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Issue 13.2 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1954 Foreign Missions for Communities Charles H. Helmsing -Voca÷ional Ideal . Joseph P. Fisher Life Conformed to Mary . Louis J. Puh~ External Grace and Religious . ~John J. Stochl Annunciation Thoughts . . ~ . Paul Dent Are You a Jellyfish? . Bruno M. Hagspiel ' Controversy on Obedience . Richard W. Rousseau Benediction . Pete~" Goodman Secular Institutes . Francis N. Korth Questions and Answers News and Views Book Reviews VOLUMe. XIII NUMBER 2 RI VII W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII MARCH, 1954 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS A FOREIGN MISSION FOR EVERY AMERICAN COMMUNITY?m Most Reverend Charles H. Helmsing, S.T.D. 57 NEWS AND VIEWS . 61 VOCATIONAL IDEAL--Joseph P. Fisher, S.J . 64 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 68 LIFE CONFORMED TO THE IMAGE OF MARY-~ Louis J. Puhl, S.J . 69 BACK NUMBERS WANTED . 72 EXTERNAL GRACE AND THE' RELIGIOUS LIFE-- John J. Stochl, S.J . 73 ANNUNCIATION THOUGHTS--Paul Dent, S.J . 77 ARE YOU A JELLYFiSH?mBruno M. Hagspiel, S.V.D . 79 A RECENT CONTROVERSY ON OBEDIENCE-- Richard W. Rousseau, S.J . 87 BENEDICTION--Brother Peter Goodman, C.S.C . 93 BOOK REVIEWS . 95 BOOK NOTICES . 97 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 97 ABOUT SECULAR INSTITUTES--Fra.r, eis N. Korth, S.J . 105 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Percentage of Income to Mother House . 109 8. What Is Meant by a First Councilor? . 109 9. Power of Superior General in Novitiate . ll0 10. Gift Money for Mass Stipends . ll0 II. May MiStress of Novices be Provincial Councilor.;' . ll0 12. Veil before Blessed Sacrament . Ill 13. Visits Required for Gaining Indulgences . Ill 14. Visitation at Mother House . Ill 15. Information on Chapter of Faults . ll2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1954, Vol. XIII, No. 2. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbatiori. Entered as second class matter January 15. 1942, at the Post Office, under, the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright. 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price:" 3 dollars a year: 50 c~nts a copy. Printed in U. S. A. before writincj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. A Foreign Mission t:or F:very American Community? Most Reverend Charles H. Helmsing, S.T.D. THESE reflections stem from an unheralded visit of a native Fili-pino bishop. Weary and disappointed, he told of his unfruit-ful visits to eight mother houses. Responsible for more than a million Catholics, he has a total of sixty-seven priests to care for them. He has only five Catholic schools taught by religious and a total of forty-eight sisters. He came to me with a missionary priest and a zealous local pastor. ¯ It was the latterwho launched the dis-cussions leading to these paragraphs. The writer had interrupted Matins for the new year of grace: "Regern uentururn Dorninurn uenite adorernus"--"Come let us adore the Lgrd, the King who is to come." It is his prayerful hope that when these reflections are rdeditated upon by harassed general and provincial superiors, they may mean the coming of the King of kings to. many souls in the field afar. Most religious communities are familiar with the Missionary Plan of Cooperation, known in the family of Mission Directors as M.P.C.1 Briefly, M.P.C. means that the parish gives prayers and alms and the visiting missionary gives missionary knowledge, mo-tivation, and zeal. In other words, the missionary receives material and spiritual assistance, and the parish receives an increase of apos- IThe Missionary Plan of Cooperation is a method of soliciting funds for specific mission-sending societies or missions. On application to the Diocesan Director of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, a society with personnel in the missions or a missionary bishop is assigned a group of parishes in the diocese. Then, on dates agreed upon with the local pastors, the mission procurator or bishop preaches at all the Sunday Masses, indoctrinates the faithful in reference to his particular mission, its activities, progress, and needs, and finally makes a financial appeal. This appeal for funds is in addition to the membership offerings of the faithful and the Mission Sunday offerings to the general fund of the Society for the Propa-gation of the Faith. Under the Plan, the Director of the Pontifical Society as-signs a missionary to every parish of the diocese annually. This missionary, by recounting the particulars of his own work, arouses an interest in all mission work. Thus, while the Society for the Propagation of the Faith helps mission-sending societies over and above the general funds that are apportioned by the Holy Father, the missionary who participates in the Plan cooperates by engendering in the faith-ful a spirit of Catholicity and apostolicity. Without a doubt, the Plan accounts, at least in part, for the tremendous growth in mission interest and mission support during the past decade. Diocesan Directors have one big regret: that they have not more parishes to assign. 57 CHARLES H. HELMSING tolicity. While this Missionary Plan of Cooperation is relatively new and still far from.perfect in operation, by contrast with the old method of soliciting mission aid it represents vast returns from little effort--mutually, I mean, for the begging missionary and for our Catholic parishes. In the old days before the Plan, even when alms were substantial, very often the neediest missions were not the re-cipients. Good parishes were satisfied with giving a mere pittance, and the whimsical giving was frequently based on the natu'ral mutual likes or dislikes of pastors and visiting missionaries. Worse still, through specious reasoning about their own needs, ~heir debt, etc., most parishes refused to give at all. Now under the Missionary Plan of Cooperation all parishes give and all receive some benefits of increased apostolicity. Best of all, the whole procedure is orderly and under obedience to the bishop of the dioceke and the religious superior of the soliciting community. There is the merit and bles-sing of obedience as well as of charity. Every Director of The Society for the Propagation of the Faith in the United States has witnessed the disappointment of visiting foreign bishops wffen they return from religious houses where they have solicited personnel. Usually, they have been dismissed with a polite but firm refusal: "We cannot take care of ou~r present obliga-tons; how can we think of opening a foreign mission?" Indeed, it is rare for any community seriously to consider the possibility of undertaking foreign mission work. Consequently, the thought arises: could not the generals and provincials of our religious communities of priests, brothers, and sisters collaborate in giving a regular supp.ly of personnel to the world-wide missions of the Church? Under such a plan every community could anticipate its turn to establish a foreign mission by budgeting its personnel and' resources. ,Just as mission-sending societies apply to participate in the Missionary Plan of Cooperation for the sake of funds, so missionary bishops could apply for partici-pation in this receiving of religious and priestly workers. The practical' collaboration of major religious superiors in such a project is, of course, not without its difficulties. Initially, in each diocese the Director of The Society for the Propagation of the Faith with the approval of his ordinary might urge every community in the diocese2 to have a mission overseas. For diocesan communities, 2provided, of course, that neither its constitutions nor the specific purposes of the institute exclude foreign mission work. 58 ¯ March, 1954 A FOREIGN MISSION ? the bishop himself would be the proper person to plant the idea: for interdiocesan communities, the urging of the Director would be merely a pious wish which he can hope will be relayed to the mother house. As a second step, the Diocesan Director might suggest that any community desirous of collaborating should consult the Mission Secretariat or missionary communities of its acquaintance to ascer-tain where American religious are badly needed, and in general to clarify its thinking relative to undertaking foreign mission work. Ultimately, with a definite idea of assuming a new apostolate, the community will apply to the Apostolic Delegation in Washing-ton or directly to Rome. It will be amazed how enthusiastically its offer will be received and how overjoyed some missionary bishop will be. It should be noted at this point that every American commun-ity that opened a foreign mission has been immediately blessed with an unexpected supply of vocations. Every experienced Mission Di-rector throughout the nation can vouch for this. Experience further shows that very often native vocations immediately supplement the meager mission personnel so that the harassed-mother house need send very few trained religious in the future. Pope Pius XI insisted on the formation of native communities, aware as he was of the ne-cessity of "like being apostles to like." However, the international character of most of our religious communities pr6vides a rule adapt-able to all nations under all conditions. In a few years' time, a native province can be set up with the native religious more stable by the fact that they are .brothers and sisters of a world-wide com-munity. By way of example the writer recalls with joy how one provincial of a teaching community, sorely pressed by requests of bishops and pastors; gave of her best sisters to establish a mission in Japan. The next class of postulants d0ubl.ed that of the previous year (and the increase has been maintained) : a new spirit of mis-sionary zeal permeates the entire community; and best of all, there are already six native professed in the Japanese mission, with nov- . ices and postulants giving promise of a future Japanese Province. While these beflections would apply to any mission field throughout the world (we cannot forget that-.there are still 1,I0i3,- 000,000 pagans), they seem to have an urgency for practi6ally all countries of Latin America, and especially for Hawaii and the Phil-ippines. Indeed, Hawaii is not a foreign mission, since.it is part of 59 CHARLES H. I"~LMSING our great nation; and the Philippines, while independent, are cer-tainly a sister republic. It is startling to think, for instance, that since 1898 ,only three American communities of women have'estab-lished themselves in the Philippines, while the Philippines have adopted American customs and even our language for all official matters. It is terrifying to think that since 1898 approximately 16 per cent of the Philippines have been lost to the Church. The pastor who accompanied the begging bishop on his unher-alded visit suggests a practical plan to meet unexpected objections here at home. He said, "Suppose I would obtain a lay teacher and persuade five other pastors to hire a lay teacher in addition to those they have at present in order that six sisters might be released for a foreign mission. Would you back up this proposition?" I said that I certainly would, and I am convinced that the attitude of this good pastor is that of many of our pastors throughou~ the United States. I am prompted to suggest a fervent meditation on the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Only those in authority over our reli-gious communities are in a position to make the decision. We in the United States are blessed beyond measure. Great as our needs are for priests and religious, certainly our sending out of a half-dozen or even a dozen religious from each of our provincial houses could be termed scarcely more than giving the crumbs that fall from our table. Without a doubt, our shortage of vocations is due to the fact that we are not pruning our vines in order to transplant the shoots that will be the beginning of new vines in the other and more impoverished corners, of the vineyard of the Lord. True it is that we have special communities especially dedicated to mission work, and they are "doing a wonderful job." But they cannot cope with the p,roblem alone. The problem with very many communities is identical with that touching our laity. ¯ The Mis-sionary Plan of Cooperation is one means, together with member-ship. in iThe.:S.od~ty.fqr the Propagat.ign. of .the Faith, that has proved effective in rousing our.la.ity to apostolic zeal.We ay.e. con-fide~ t that .a sim.i!~" organized.effort to bring more communities.into active missionary work. will re-enkindle in more of our religious a true apostolic spirit and a truly Catholic interest in everything that touches in any way the growth and vitality of the Mystical Body of Christ. 60 News Views Marian-Year Proiecf To his inspiring article on missionary zeal Bishop Helmsing ap-pended the following note that should be of special interest: "This article was written just before receipt of the Directives of the Sacred Congregation of ~Religious that during the Marian Year each reli-gious family undertake some special work of charity and zeal. Since the Sovereign Pontiff has characterized the missions as the greatest charity in the world, it is our hope that the foregoing paragraphs may help superiors decide on their contribution for the Marian Year." A Good Superior? In To Gouern is to Loue Father Ronsin offers young superiors the consoling thoughtthat to assist them in their office they have at their disposal not only the merits and prayers but also the accumu-lated experience of the superiors who have gone before them. These words may contain a bit of poetic exaggeration, yet they suggest another project that might have great practical value. During their terms of office most superiors must learn from their own personal experience, certain things that are very helpful in gov-erning a religious community. These lessons may concern some-thing apparently new--something not in the books, as they say-- or they may concern experiences that throw new light on something already known. If all those who are or have been religious superiors were to meet and to pool all these helpful personal experiences, the result would truly be an accumulated experience of immense value to present and future superiors. It is hardly.feasible to try to arrange a meeting at whic,h superi-ors could pool .these helpful experiences. But, with proper coopera-tion, it would be feasible to gather these experier~ces together in the form of writing. .Suppose each religious who is or was a superior would write down in an informal way the helpful lessons he or she has lea'rned during his or her term of office and would send the re-suits to us. We could.compile these experiences into a set of sug: gestions for superio.rs, that might be very practi.cal. Some superiors' might have very. little to write; others might have much. The amount would make no difference. The main thing that we should like to do is to create some interest in what seems to be a useful project. 61 NEWS AND VIEWS Review for Religious We might add that subjects are not excluded from this invita-tion. In fact, they are explicitly included. The subjects' experience of what it means to be governed well is every bit ~s valuable to superiors as their own experiende of what seems to make for good government. This project merits consideration and cooperation. But it should be emphasized that we are asking for constructive suggestions and not for negative criticism. Moreover. we should like suggestions based on actual experience of their helpfulness. Finally, we should prefer that any material sent to us would be signed, unless of course the nature of the communication would demand that it be anony-mous. At any rate,' whether the communications are signed or un-signed, we would comr~ile the material in such a way that those who contribute the suggestions are not recognized. American Founders' Series We seem to be in a "project" mood. Here is another. In the United States and Canada there are many native religious insti-tutes- institutes, that is, that were founded in these countries. The lives of the men and women who founded these various institutes would make interesting reading. In fact, during the last decade or two many book-length biographies of such founders have appeared. Obviously, however, we are interested in articles, not books. We should like very much to publish a series of articles containing the biographical sketches of these founders. Articles in the REVIEW are necessarily limited in length; but we could use biographical sketches up to five or six thousand words. In such sketches we should like to have not merely the main facts of the founder's life but especially an attempt to present the character of the founder and the spirit with which he tried to animate his institute. In such a series there would be danger of a certain sameness; but this danger could be kept to a minimum if the biographers would make a special effort to give the distinctive characteristics of the founder and the distinctive features of the institute he founded. Although we are thinking primarily of institutes that originated in Canada or the United States, we do not wish to exclude other in-stitutes from this project. Some of the older orders and congrega-tions, though founded in other countries, were extended to the "New World" by men and women who were, so to speak, second founders. Biographical sketches of these religious pioneers should also be included ,in our series. 62 March, 19~ Suggestions made in these pages are not usually accorded an overwhelming response; and we do not expect to find our mailbox suddenly crowded with founders' biographies. Nevertheless, lest the unexpected should happen and we should receive more than one sketch of the same founder, it seems advisable that any superior gen-eral who might be interested in this project would designate some-one to write the founder's biography. This is not essential, but it might make for efficiency. For Contributors The thought of possible articles necessarily reminds us of manu-scripts. Unfortunately we do not have a fully prepared style man-ual. But we can offer some suggestions to possible contributors that might solve problems for them and relieve us of an unnecessary bur-den. 1) Every manuscript submitted to us should be neatly typed, double spaced, with at least an inch of margin on each side of the page. lit is difficult to make editorial notations on a crowded page. 2) Quotations should also be double spaced. We mention this particularly because; in many of the manuscripts sent to us, long quotations are always single spaced. We know not how this custom originated; but we do know from experience that it can be an edi-tor's nightmare. 3) Rules for capitalization are difficult to formulate and more difficult to apply; and this is especially true iri a journal devoted to religious topics. We have found that consistency in this matter is an almost impossible goal. Perhaps in some future issue we may publish a list of words to serve as a model. For the present, how-ever, we offer contributors this one practical suggestion: be uerg re-serued in the use ot: capitals. 4) On points of style, spelling, capitalization, and so forth, we usually follow Webster's Collegiate Dictionary and A Manual of Stqle (University of Chicago Press). We would appreciate it if contributors would do likewise. Painting of Our Lady We are informed that a new painting of the Immaculate Heart of Mary has been .completed in time for the Marian Year. The painting is a companion picture to the Ibarraran Sacred Heart ,Jesus which has been used. in a national non-profit picture-distribu- ¯. (Continued on Page 86~.' ¯ 63 Vocat:ional Ideal Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. OFTEN enough to older religious the spiritual life looks simple enough but to beginners and ev, en those advancing it seems frequently anything but simple. They are frequently on the lookout for some formula or other which will make the spiritual life easily and comprehensively grasped. It is not uncommon that one approach after another is tried and found wanting. And it is not unheard of that some remain confused f6r years in regard to the theory of the spiritual Iife and some even wonder whether the diffi-culty can be resolved:. All this uncertainty, of course, affects to some extent the living of the spiritual life. Anything, therefore, that can help in the problem will be welcome. I shall propose a few thoughts suggested by Father :Lindworsky's Ps~tchologg of Asceticism. To start with an illustration. Sister Bona wants to purchase a pair of shoes for tired feet. She goes to the shoestore to be fitted and right away she is handed a pair of shoes and told they ought to fit her. She tries them on and finds them far too small. Curious as to why the salesman was under the impression they would fit, she questions him. He replies that he had measured the feet of hun-dreds of sisters. He then figured out the average size of the sisters' feet and had shoes made to that size. But he acknowledges that thus far not once has he found that the average shoe fitted any particular sister. Thus it is to some ext~nt with patte'rns of the spiritual life pre-sented in many books. No one kind of religious is had in mind. The pattern is apparently meant to fit an active religious, a contem-plative religious, a young religious, an old religious, religious men, religiouswomen, lay religious, clerical religious, each and every reli-gmus. It must be acknowledged that in a certain sense this method of procedure is excusable and at times even necessary. And those~who have a sufficiency of knowledge, and experience can easily make proper adaptations; for the large principles of the spiritual life re-main the same for all. But some try very hard to fit themselves with-out adjustment into this, so to speak, average pattern and find them- :selves spiritually very uncomfortable. It may be said, then, that there are two approaches to the spir-itual life indicated above--what may be called the "abstract" ap- VOCATIONAL IDEAL proach and whatmay be Called the "concrete" approach. The "ab-stract" approach comes about very logically~ Theology teaches us that when our first parents fell in the garden of Eden, besides losing sanctifying grace and certain gifts not due to their nature, they be-came subject to various concupiscences. Hence there arose a warfare in their nature, their lower passions often rebelling against reason. And, although in tbernsel~)es the mind and will of men were not vitiated, nevertheless, because of the condition in which these facul-ties operated,' the mind was, in effect, darkened and the will weak-ened. Hence it can be said that the original integrity in man was broken and the harmony consequent upon the integrity was dis-turbed. Therefore a man was subject to many vices--a whole cata-log of them, beginning with the seven capital sins and descending to the slightest act of unreason. If man was to approach the former high state of his nature, he would have to root out these vices and struggle back up the long ladder of the virtues. Even after Christ redeemed man and restored grace, there still remained the necessity of struggling against the vices and putting on the virtues. The old man of sin had to be destroyed and the new man of grace had to be brought, with labor, into being. And so catalogs of vices and lists of virtues were drawn up and the aspirant to holiness was encouraged to work away at them. The idea was, of course, to build up a new man in Christ by the death of all the vices and the flourishing of all the virtues. Not much attention was paid to just what vices a par-ticular individual should eradicate (although some did speak of a predominant passion) or what virtues he should put on. Since for perfection he had to be without all the vices and in possession of all the virtues, he bad to struggle manfully with the complete lists. Such is what one might call the "abstract" view of the spiritual life. The "concrete" approach may be presented this way. What is man's part in his sanctification? To do God's will. And what is the will of God for any religious? To live out his own vocation as perfectly as possible. This sounds most obvious and exceedingly simple. Like many obvious and simple truths, however, this one is overlooked. I am sure that many spiritual directors have found re-ligious, and sincere religious, who are trying to live the vocation of other religious and not their own. They read of or hear of some "way" of the spiritual life and decide that that is the way God has called them t6, "considering.hardly at all how it fits in with the plan , of their o'wn particular religious calling. Agood many religious are JOSEPH P. FISHER Reoieto for Religious and have been captivated by the idea of being a "Victim soul." This is a fine ideal if properly adjusted to one's own vocation. But any-thing in the ideal which makes impossible or difficult the. living of their own vocation has to be modified. They should be "victims" according to their own vocational-ideal. An active religious reads about contemplation and decides he is going to live as a contem-plative. /ks long as th,e ideal fits in with his own vocation, fine; but, if it is at variance with the spirit of his own order or congrega-tion, it is suspect. As long as he believes his vocation is to the active order, his way of life must fit the vocational-ideal of his order. The endeavor to live out his own vocation as perfectly as pos-sible puts every religious under the obligation of understanding the spirit of his order. It is obvious that various orders and congrega-tions have different ends in mind and hence correspondingly differ-ent means. A Poor Clare is not called upon to work on the mis-sions like the Maryknoll Sisters: the Sisters of Charity are not called upon to recite the Divine Office like the Carmelites: Christian Broth-ers are not expected to work in hospitals as the Alexian Brothers are; ,lesuits are not expected to observe the seclusion and silence of Car-thusians. So each religious must endeavor to form a clear ideal of what his particular way of life asks of him. He must study and pray over his constitutions and the rules of his order; he must read and reflect on the life: of his founder: he must imbibe the spirit that animated those who have lived their lives with signal fidelity in the same calling--he must, in brief, form a "vocational-ideal" based on objective evidence revealing what should be the spirit of his life. Then the holiness of the particular religious will depend on the way he puts this vocational-ideal to work in his life. He must put on all that his vocational-ideal requires of him and cut away what stands in the way of' the living-out of the ideal. This puts before each religious very definite work to do. And most religious would undoubtedly find plenty to work on within the limits of their voca-tional- ideal without having to spend precious time and effort trying to master and put into their lives an ideal based on an abstract treat-ment of the spiritual life or, what may be worse, an ideal based on a form of life foreign to their own. The advantages of such an approach, the concrete approach, are clear. First of all it presents the religious with a definite, detailed expression of God's will---every man's means of holiness. It, ac-cordingly, .puts emphasis in the spiritual life on something solid, 66 March, 1954 VOCATIONAL IDEAL something open to no illusions. Again it presents a simple and yet comprehensive plan of man's part (as opposed to God's part) in the spiritual life for any particular religious. This makes for integral living-~a// a religious does is sanctifying, for (in the supposition) it fits in with his vocation which for him is God's will. Consequent upon such living, there should.be peace and calm, for a religious knows that he is doing the best he can do on earth--God's will. He can have hope of arriving at holiness, for he knows that God gives him the graces required to live his vocation. Several conclusions would seem to follow from the above. First of all when a religious reads a spiritual book that is not expressly pointed to his vocation or, as sometimes happens, is actually pointed away from it, he ought to make proper adjustments in accordance with his own vocational-ideal. There are many very fine spiritual books which have to be so adjusted. Even a classical work like the The Following o[ Christ bas statements which certainly do not ap-ply literally to all religious. For example, this statement may have literal application in the case of contemplatives but hardly in the case of active religious whose work is among men: "As oftenas I have been amongst men, said one, I have returned less a man." And a second conclusion would be this. Religious institutes would do well to provide their religious with commentaries and even medita-tions on their rules. Likewise it would be useful to have lives writ-ten of founders and illustrious members of the congregation. Above all the efforts of superiors and instructors should be devoted to bringing the religious to a really practical love of their own precise vocation. It is all well and good to admire the ideals of religious of other orders, but one has to live and sanctify oneself according to the ideals of one's own order. Since a religious owes the loyalty of love to his own religious family, he is in duty bound to come to know his family and cherish it as he does .no other. It follows from all this that the ideal form of mortification for all religious is the effort of will required to live their vocation pe?- fectly, that is, to put on all that their vocation requires and cut off what hinders the full living of it. It may seem at first glance as if there is not much mortification in this; but let a religious earnestly examine himself on how be conducts himself from early rising through all the exercises and work of the day till he goes to bed tired at night, and he will find plenty of scope for the effort of will that means mortification. And the strong points of this kind of morti- 67 JOSEPH P. FISHER fication are these: it is definitely willed by God and so there can be no delusion in it; and secondly it makes for a habit of mortification, continual mortification. Religious all know the necessity of morti-fication but many feel they are remiss in its practice. Even those who perform scattered acts are rarely satisfied. They feel the need of a more continual spirit of mortification. However, they realize that there is a limit to the little incidental acts they can perform. But there is no limit to the mortification involved in the plan suggested above. And, since it is all connected with the proper living of their freely chosen vocation, it appears desirable and possible. When the , penitents of John the Baptist wanted to know what they were to do to manifest fruits of ,repentance in their lives, they received these an-swers in accord with their various vocations. "And the crowds asked him, saying, 'What then are we to do?' And he answered and said to them, 'Let him who has two tunics share with him who has none; and let him who has food do likewise.' And there came pub-licans also to be baptized, and they said to him, 'Master, what are we to do?' But he said to them. 'Exact no more than what has been appointed you.' And the soldiers also asked him, saying, 'And we-- what are we to do?' And he said to them, 'Plunder no one, neither accuse anyone falsely~ and be content with your pay.' " (Luke 3: 10-14.) The spirit of this answer certainly applies to religious to-day. "Walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you were called" (Ephesians 4: 1). OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOST REVEREND CHARLES H. HELMSING is Auxiliary Bishop of St. Louis. JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at Florissant, Missouri. LOUIS J. PUHL is spiritual director at the! Josephinum, Worthington, Ohio. JOHN J. STOCHL is making his theological studies at. St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. PAUL DENT is a former missionary in Patna, India, and is now teaching Hindi at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. BRUNO M. HAGSPIEL has had long experience in writing, lecturing, and giving retreats, and is now at Sacred Heart Mission Seminary, Girard, Pennsylvania. RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU is making his theological studies at the College of St. Albert, Louvain, Belgium. PETER GOODMAN is on the faculty of St. Joseph of Holy Cross, Juniorate of the Broth-ers of the Holy Cross, at Valatie, New York. FRANCIS N. KORTH is on the fac-ulty at St. Mary's College, St. 'Marys, Kansas. 68 Lit:e Cont:ormed to !:he Image ot: Mary Louis J. Puhl, S.J. OUR Holy Father Pius XII in the encyclical consecrating this year,to the Immaculate Mother tells us that she rejoices to see her likenes~s in her children. He asks all Christians to conform their lives to the image of the Blessed Virgin. Fortunately for us, we have a portrait of the Immaculate Heart of Mary that pictures for us her holiness and perfection. It has been drawn under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit by no less skillful hand than that of our Blessed Mother herself. This she has given us in the hymn of thanks and praise she left in the Magnificat. It is a summary of the spirituality of our Blessed Mother, and a model given us by God to aid us to carry out the wish expressed by the Holy Father in his request to conform our live~ to her image. The circumstances that gave rise to this hymn of thanks will help us to appreciate its meaning. The angel of God had come to Mary and asked her consent to be the mother of the Savior. When the humble Virgin understood how she was to serve God, she joy-fully embraced His will with those words we repeat each day in the Angelus, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord! Be it done unto me according to Thy v~ord." This act of surrender to God may be called the motto of Mary's life. It gives the key to her whole spir-ituality. Having learned in her conversation with 'the angel that her aged cousin would soon be the mother of the precursor, the humble Vir-gin hastened to be of service to her in need. The Mother of God, the living temple of God, did not think it beneath her dignity to do menial service for her kinswoman. ~ She understood well that the essence of perfection is charity. When she came to the home of her cousin and greeted her with the familiar Jewish greeting, "Peace be to you," Ehzabeth, inspired by the Holy Spirit, in great joy saluted her with the very words the angel had used, "Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb." Mary, seeing that the great mystery of the Incarnation had been revealed by God to her cousin, broke forth into a song of praise of the Redeemer. The very first verse of this hymn strikes at the most fundamental principle of the spiritual life. "My soul doth magnify the Lord," 69 LOUIS .I. PUHL Review [or Religious Mary sings. What is the ultimate destiny of man that must guide all the actions of his life? The glory of God. If I do not live up to this purpose of my life, I do not lead a rational human life. So Mary, teaching us to lead a truly Christian life, glorifies God for the wonders He .has wrought in her, and for the great mystery of the Incarnation and Redemption. But God has so arranged in His infinite goodness and power that what we do for His glory is for our happiness. We were made for joy in Him in time ,and eternity. Hence the second verse of this hymn, "My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior." Man without Christ is a hopeless, helpless debtor. Nothing remains for him but to be cast into prison till the last farthing is paid. But since he can-not pay his debt without a Savior, he must remain there forever. There is no happiness possible without Christ. Hence, if I seek my happiness in any other, I am doomed to failure. The foolish world has sought peace in power, in pleasure, in wealth, and has ended in slavery. My happiness and joy is in Christ alone. He came to teach the way to peace and happiness and la'id down His life to secure the means to it. Unless with Mary my joy is in Christ my Savior, I can have no true joy :in time or eternity. Next, our Blessed Mother teaches us the great means to praise God and to find happiness in God. "He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid, for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed." In practice, perfection must always consist in walking in the will of God, in being the humble handmaid, the servant of God. Wherever God's will is made known, in the Com-mandments, in the duties of our state, in the wish of our superiors, in the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, man the servant of God by nature is bound to obey. This humble service by Mary, she tells us, is the secret of the wonderful graces God gave her. Because she was the humble servant, God regarded her and blessed her. So abundant were these favors that came from her service that she prophesies that henceforth all generations shall call her blessed. In its way, the same will be true of us if we serve. God and His angels and saints will rejoice and call us blessed even in this life if we serve. And the day will come in eternity when Christ Himself, as He tells us, will gird Himself and minister to us ~at the table of the Lamb'. All of God's saints and the Mother of God herself will call us bles-sed through all eternity. Then follows a way to magnify the Lord and rejoice in God our 70 March, 1954 LIFE C~NFORMED TO MARY Savior. Mary begins to praise God for the present order of God's providence, for the great work of the Incarnation and the Redemp-tion. It is the work of the omnipotence of God, "He that is mighty hath done great things to me." Indeed, only an infinitely powerful God could ca.rry out the design of His wisdom and mercy to save man by clothing Himself in our human nature, coming into the world as the child of a virgin, and finally laying down His life for our salvation. Secondly, she calls the work of the Incarnation and the Redemp-tion a work of the holiness of God, "And holy is His name." God came to teach us the way of holiness, to share His own nature with us and so sanctify us, to free us from sin and clothe us in justice such as he Himself has. Finally Mary proclaims the Redemption as the great work of the mercy of God. "His mercy is from generation unto generation to them that fear Him." Wherever there is that humble reverential fear of the servant for his Lord. of the child for his Father, Mary tells us, there will be the boundless mercy of God.If we reverently serve, she teaches, we are secure in God's mercy. In the next verses we are let into the great secret of Mary's suc-cess in her spiritual life. How did she become the model of all sanc-tity? The secret is humility. How often we read and are told that the foundation of all virtue is humility. From the first to the last verse of this hymn this truth is suggested in some way. Humility simply means that I know my place and live accordingly. I know who God is, the infinite Good to whom I owe all; and I know who I am, the servant who has received all from God and must go to Him for all I need. God must reject the proud, Scripture tells us. Mary eloquently proclaims this truth and the necessity of humility. "He hath shewed might in His arm. He hath scattered the proud, in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble." If we wish to conform to the image of Mary, we must strive for humility. The second secret of her success pointed out by Mary is an ardent "desire for perfection. "He hath filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent empty away." Who ever heard of any per-son attaining a difficult goal without willing it? No one acquires a strange language without wanting to do so. We cannot learn to play the piano or succeed even in a game such as golf without wanting to learn. We do not wake up some fair morning and find 71 LOUIS J. PUHL ourselves masters of Greek against our will. Hence, the insistence in spiritual writers on an earnest desire for perfection. Our Lord Him-self has said, "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after justice for they shall have their fill." If we really wish to perfect our lives, there must be a real hunger for justice. If there is, there will follow the blessing of God and all the means necessary to attain holiness. Hence, Mary says, "He hath received Israel His servant, being mind-ful of His mercy." Notice. again, it is the humble servant that re-ceives the help. TEe last verse gives a third secret of Mary's success, her great faith and trust in God. God is faithful to His promises, "'as He spoke to Abraham and his seed forever." It was this complete trust in God's fidelity in Mary that was praised by Elizabeth, "Blessed art thou because thou bast believed, because those things shall be ac-~ complished that were, spoken to thee by the Lord." Faith in God's word who has promised to help us in every need and complete trust in His omnipotent love and mercy are necessary for success on the way to God. There are many mysteries in life we cannot under-stand. We must keep our faith firm in the words of Christ and go on in boundless trust. "God is faithful who hastcalled us to the society of His Son." He can accomplish His ends by humble means. The humble Virgin, raised to the dignity of Mother of God and praised by all generations, is an eternal example of this truth. Such is the portrait of the Mother of God left us by the inspira-tion of the H01y Spirit. She lived for the glory of God, she found her joy in Christ her Savior, she was the humble servant. Her life was a,hymn of praise of the omnipotence, holiness, and mercy of her Redeemer. The fouffdations of her holiness were a deep humil-ity, a hunger and thirst for justice, and an unshakable faith and trust in God. If I am to conform my life tO the image of Mary as God asks us to do through the words of the Holy Father, I must make it according to the model God has given us in Mary. BACK NUMBERS WANTED We have urgent requests for back numbers that are needed to complete sets. You can be of great service to other religious if you happen to have duplicates of any of these numbers and' are willing to part with them. If you have such dupli-cates, kindly notify us. The requested numbers are: Complete volumes I (1942): II (1943); and III (1944). Single copies: January. 1942; May, 1942: July, 1943 (2 copies): November, 1943; September, 1945; March. 1946: and Sep-tember, 1946. 72 Ext:ernal Grace and t:he Religious Lil:e John J. Stocbl, S.J. 44 | F THOU didst know the gift of God," Christ told the Samari- ! tan woman at Jacob's well, " . . thou perhaps wouldst have asked of him." The poor sinful woman, thinking that Our Lord was speaking of ordinary drinking water, did not understand; and so the divine shepherd had to explain that the water He had to give was "a fountain of water springing up unto life everlasting." This "gift of God" that Our Lord spoke about is grace, which God bestows on men and which was merited for men by the suf-fering and death of Jesus Christ. And truly, if we did fully under-stand this gift of God, we would know the science of sancFity a.nd the secrets of the saints. It is the heart of the supernatural life. Sanctifying grace, that divine life which is infused into the soul at baptism and which is increased or restored with the reception of the other sacraments and the performance of good works, is the greatest of all created gifts to man; so great is it that it actually makes us children of God and sharers in the divine life. Actual graces are transitory supernatural helps, holy thoughts and desires, that God continually sends us, especially when we are spiritually troubled. Their purpose is to inspire us to lead'tbe supernatural life and to give us supernatural strength when we most need it. The thought of our own weakness would be a terrifying one were it not for the fact that we have God's own assurance that His grace is sufficient for us. For this reason we can say with confidence at the beginning each ,day the prayer in the office of Prime: "Lord God Almighty, who hast brought us to the beginning of this day, defend us: throughout its course by Thy power, that we may not this day fall into any sin, but that our words and thoughts and deeds may be directed to the fulfilment of what is right in Thy sight." The band of God stretched out in our support is manifested not only through these interna~ supernatural helps which He gives us to avoid sin and perform works of eternal merit, but also in countless external helps we find all bout us. Thus we can see in the creatures about us a third kind of grace, 73 JOHN J. STOCHL ° Reoieto for Religious external grace, which theologians and spiritual writers frequently acknowledge wit~ only a passing nod as they hurry on to deeper and more important problems of sanctifying or actual grace. External graces are not absolutely necessary for salvation and are not even sufficient in themselves for the performance of a salutary act. Because of this they are often neglected in spiritual conferences and instruc-tions. They rouse the soul to merely human resolves, and hence are not sufficient of themselves to win the divine reward of eternal life. They are only the preparation for internal graces which are sufficie.nt for salvation. Yet external graces are real gifts of God, special gifts that help us to holiness. And for religious who habitually live in the state of sanctifying grace and whose whole effort is aimed at in-creasing that divine 'Iife in the soul, no means to sanctity is 'to be ignored. God places various creatures around us to help us reach the goal for which we were made. These creatures are external graces and should be used as God intended, namely, as helps in working out our own salvation and sanctification, St. Francis of Assisi found that the sun, the birds, and the animals made him love God more. For St. Francis Borgia, the death of his queen and the sight of her decaying body was an external grace that started him on the path to sainthood. And St. Ignatius says in his book of the Spiritual Exer-cises that "all other things on the face of the earth were created for man's sake, and in order to aid him in the prosecution of the end for which be was created." Any influence coming from creatures outside the soul and helping us to salvation is an external grace. Such external influences arouse thoughts of good deeds and excite holy resolutions. The sermon of a priest frequently stirs up in a sinner the first thoughts of repentance; the example of a strong Catholic in the armed service has often been a source of strengtb to weaker Catholics living with him. And on at least one occasion, the music, singing, incense, and ceremony of a Benediction servic~e has led a non-Catholic to inquire into the trutbs~.of the Faith. Some external graces of their very nature draw men to a better life. The life of Christ, the Blessed Virgin, or certain saints, the Bible, and the Church itself are bound to have a good effect on all who experience them. Other outside influences will appeal only to certain people or under certain circumstances. Music, for example, or books, good example, friends, recreation, or the radio can all lead 74 March. 19:54 ¯ ~ EXTERNAL GRACE us to God. In fact anything can be an external grace--even pain, sorrow, suffering, and sin-s-if we put it to the use that God intended. As Father Matthews says in his little book, With the Help of Thy Grace: "Every creature can make us think of God the Creator and so lead us to glo,rify.the Creator in His works. But such glorification would be only natural and God wants us to do supernatural deeds in order thereby to win heaven. So just when the external grace makes us know and love God naturally, actual grace enters our soul and helps us to know and love God supernaturally." It can and frequently does happen that all three kinds of grace come to us at the same time. The sister, for example, who° makes her weekly .confession, receives an increase of sanctifying grace by the very fact that she receives the sacrament. She also knows that by receiving the sacrament she is assured of a sufficiency of actual graces during the coming week to make her good resolutions and purpose of amendment effective. But over and above this, the difficulty of the actual telling of her faults and of the saying of the penance, and the shame felt in having to mention the same little sin of criticizing, for the fifth week in a row are all external helps to avoid sin in the future. God does not force His grace on anyone; nor does He act against the natures which He created. Rather, He deals with each creature in accord with its nature. And since, as philosophy teaches us, there is nothing in the intellect which was not first in the senses, God usually enlightens the intellect or strengthens the will through the use of the sense.faculties or emotions. Exterior graces act directly on the senses and only indirectly reach the spiritual faculties. They are either the occasions of inner graces, or else accompany interior helps. They do not of themselves strengthen the will, as Tanquerey says, but they produce in us favorable impressions, which by quickening the mind and rousing the will, prepare the soul for the reception of supernatural life. But since they are connected with true inward promptings, which move the soul to amendment and advancement in the supernatural life, they are of extreme importance. And we may be sure that when we make use of the many external graces God gives us the more important interior graces will be present. Religious life of its very nature assures us of couiatless such ex-ternal graces. The fact that religious live in communities where everyone is working for the spread of Christ's Kingdom is in itself a JOHN J. STOCHL Review for Religious great grace. Moreover, the religious is separated from many sources of temptation to which~ most Other Catholics and even the diocesan clergy are constantly exposed. For the most part we are cut off from all the pushing struggle for worldly success and the esteem of men, from bad companions, harmful reading, temporal worries, from practi.cally all persons, places, and things that are generally occasions of serious sin. The daily order of a religious house assures all of sufficient time for prayer and reflection, ample spiritual direction, and easy access to books for spiritual reading. All we have-to do is to recognize these graces and make use of them. They can be found all about us, in our Rule, the religious habit, the daily order, the little pinches of poverty, and the petty irritation that frequently accompanies reli-gious obedience. The presence of the Blessed Sacrament in our house, the beauty of the liturgy, wholesome books and study are also external graces. And though these latter are available to many of the faithful, still religious have more frequent opportunity to make use of them. ~Perhaps the greatest external grace that religious have .is the con-stant companionship of others who are striving to advance in the way of perfection. Who has not felt impelled to kneel a little straighter and put more effort into his prayer when he saw his neighbor in chapel pray with external reverence?' Or what over-worked teaching sister, is not inclined to give herself even more gen-erously when she sees others facing problems greater than hers? The unfailing generosity of one or other member of the community tends to make all the members of the community more generous with their time and their talents. Even the little twinge of human respect we feel over the violation of a rule in the presence of others can-- though it sounds strange to say it--be used as an external grate to prevent further violations. And every monastery, convent, or seminary has its number of those who by their unfailing cheerful-ness or exact observance of the rules draw others closer to perfection. There is absolutely nothing in religious life that cannot be used to draw us to greater love of God. As St'. Paul says in his Epistle to the Romans, "We know that to them that love God, all things work together unto good, to such as, according to his purpose, are called to be saints" (Romahs 8:28). And surely, if any are called to be -saints it is those who have voluntarily followed Christ's counsels, who have "left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, 76 March, 1954 ANNUNCIATION THOUGHTS or wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake" (Matthew 19: 29). ~ God comes to us through a thousand and one doors, and the' marvel of it all is the ingenuify He uses to touch our thoughts and draw our wills to higher things. God is not only present in crea-tures, according to St. Ignatius, "in the elements giving them being, in the plants giving them growth, in animals giving them feeling, and in men giving them understanding," but He actually "works and labors for me in all created things on the face of the earth, that is. He behaves as one that labors." Annunciation Thought:s Paul Dent, S.d. MARY'S plans were upset when the angel told her she would become the mother of a child, she who had planned a life of virginity vowed to God! But she gave instant consent to God's plans when she knew they were God's plans, and her own were realized in a way more glorious and holy than she could have imag-ined- and the world was redeemed, too. I must ever be ready to imitate Mary in regard to my plans. Souls will be. saved if I in-stantly and perseveringly consent to God's plans. They are infinitely holier than any plans of which I myself can think. (Luke 1:26 f.) From God to a town in Galilee (the mostboor-ish section of the Holy Land) named Nazareth (the proverbially despised section of that boorish section) to a virgin (not to a mother of a family, a person of merit and importance) betrothed to a man (whence all her importance, such as it was, in the eyes ot~ that little world--not from herself, but from him) named doseph (Joseph? Which one of the several Josephs? Joseph, the carpenter. Oh, that fellow! I thought you meant the Joseph, the one in that big house) of thehouse of David (a ruined house now, and of no account any more) and the virgin's name was Marg (a common sort of name, not distingu~ like Irene or B~renice). Thus God chooses what the world thinks little of, God chooses one fit for nothing but ordinary jobs about the house, not a brilliant writer, executive, orator. God, chooses one lowly in all eyes, especially her own, one accordingly 77 PAUL DENT not discouraged and ,despondent, but full of confidence in God and of gratitude to God for letting her love Him, letting her love Him. I want to be like you, O Mary Immaculate, Mother of God. I want to trust God and to be grateful that He allows and enables me to love Him. Mary is kneeling in prayer, adoration, love, oblation, abandon-ment, loving attention to the presence of God. ,She is lovingly aware that God is and she is humbly pleading to be allowed to be His servant-girl. Suddenly out of nothing a man appears and calls her highly favored, full of grace. She is troubled, thinking the Divine Majesty has deigned to answer her prayer. For this is evidently an angel before her who has been sent to bring God's answer, and yet he is calling her highly favored, her who had not asked to be praised, but to be ancilla Domini. B~t the angel speaks no flattery in calling her highly favored, for that is just what she is. By God's grace she is full of the love of God and is aware that she does love God, able to bear herself the honest, humble, candid witness that she really does love God. Is she now going to be told that she is allowed to be God's servant-girl? That were indeed to be highly favored! Is this not the angel's meaning? What els~ can his words mean? O Mother of God, is it presumption for me thus to try to ex-' press to myself your thoughts? ! do not think it is, if I know--as I do know !--that your thoughts, your pure, virginal; sinless, im-maculate thoughts are inexpressibly far above my power to imagine or express them. I do not think it is presumption, if I try to put your thoughts here before me'in order to help me realize more than I do what my prayer-life must be. I am your child and you are my Mother, and "like mother, like child" must mean that I try not only to do like you, but to think like you. Guard my thoughts, holy Mother of God. Help them belike yours, so that I may be like you --lovingly aware that God is and humbly desirous to be all His. "AURELIANS" IN THE UNITED STATES A Sister Adorer of the ,l~recious Blood writes, with reference to the article "Aurelian Spirituality" in our January, 1954 number: "We regret that no men-tion is made of the fact that the houses in the States (with the exception of Belle-vue, Ohio) are independent of either the French- or E.nglisl?-speaking Unions: and each has its own novitiate', in accordance with the way we were founded." 78 Are You a ,Jellyfish? Bruno M. Hagspiel, S.V.D. THIS is a challenging question. To face it honestly requires more than a modicum of courage. Yet it should be faced because this little creature of the sea has much to teach us if we are willing to let our powers of reasoning bear with full force upon the analogies that such a study suggests. Our Lord has endowed His smallest, weakest creatures with a meaning. He has used the sparrows, the flowers of the field, the mustard seed, to teach His incomparable lessons. We are but fol-lowing His inspiration if, like eager children, we try to learn from the most inconsequential things He has made, not only how to be but how not to be. If the poet Wordsworth, sensitive to the realities underlying the natural world, speaks of "the harvest of the quiet eye," how much more should we, with an eye steadied by faith, perceive the more profound realities of the supernatural world beating upon our inner selves. Yet we are sometimes as unaware of the full import of these realities as is the jellyfish of the insistent roll of the surf. If this were not so, we should not find the glaring inconsistencies between creed and conduct that are ot:ten manifest in the lives of those professing the Catholic faith and even of those committed to the higher dedica-tion of the religious life. To clarify out, thinking on this subject we might follow the lines indicated by Msgr. (later Bishop) John S. Vaugban .in "Inconsistency, or Our .Faith and Our Practice" (in Thoughts for All Times). Msgr. Vaughan alludes to the fact that~ve are often puzzled to explain why, in spite of' the overwhelming .arguments in proof of the authenticity of the Catholic Church, so many earnest men con-' tinue to resist her claims. We seldom take the t~ouble, however, of inquiring why we who believe firmly in the stupendous truths of Revelation are so little affected by them. That a materialist with no belief in a future life to sustain him should center his interest on the acquisition of worldly goods--whether honors, pleasures, or pos-sessions- is not strange. But that we who are well aware that this life is nothing more than a preparation, a path leading to an im-mortal destiny, should attach so much importance to what we know to be empty,, yain, and unsatisfying, is far more extraordinary and 79 BRUNO M. HAGSPIEL Review for Religious constitutes a really difficult problem. "We profess belief," Msgr. Vaughan says, "and .we do in re-ality believe every dogma, and yet we seem to be ab'le to reconcile With such a profession a line of conduct diametrically opposite. What we openly'affirm with our lips we are perpetually denying by our actions; and What we emphatically assert in words to be of the most vital importance we declare by almost every act of oui lives to be of no importance at all. However rational we may be in business, in politics and in our social relations, we seem to be wholly devoid of reason as soon as we begin to deal with the spiritual and the supernatural." In illustrating his point, be eliminates all matters of mere opin-ion and suggests that we confine ourselves to points of certainty on which we-all agree. He proceeds first of all to the concept of sin. We believe, obviously, that sin is the greatest evil in the world, that even the smallest deliberate sin is a more genuine misfortune than any pos-sible loss of health or fortune, that both in itself and in its conse-quences no merely human calamity can compare with it. We know with a divine certainty that not even to save our lives or any num-ber of lives would a person be justified in committing a single de-liberate v'enial sin. This, as Msgr. Vaughan asserts, is not a pious exaggeration, but the literal truth. In our own case, our faith no doubt is securely rooted. But how is it with our conduct? Does it coincide with our belief? Our atti-tude towards venial sin will supply an answer. How do we show our horror of small sins, our realization of their baseness and of the deep ingratitude inherent in them? Does our everyday life indicate an unhesitating preference to suffer pain or calamity rather than commit a deliberate venial sin? The result of such questioning will-show whether these words of Msgr. Vaughan apply to us: "We be-lieve sin to be the greatest of evils, ,we act as though it were the least." From the negative to the positive; from the consideration of evil to the consideration of the greatest supernatural good that can come to us in this life. We recognize this good as divine grace. Through faith we know that grace is so surpassing a gift that to gain one ad-ditional degree of it is an advantage immeasurably greater than to in-crease our fortunes or any of our earthly gifts a milliontimes over. One degree of grace is incalculably better in itself, of greater profit to ourselves, and more pleasing to God than any advance in worldly 8O March, 1954 ARE YOU A JELLYFISH prosperity, social position, or political power. We ought to be willing to renounce these, together with any natural gift such as wisdom, beauty, dignity, or talent, if thereby we could purchase the slightest increase of divine grace. We know all this and we teach it to others. But do we deny it in practice? The thought of grace leads logically to the thought of eternity. We may" indeed say with Msgr. Vaughan that God has committed to our hands the fashioning of a future that will be.precisely what we make it, neither better nor worse. Granted that we are fortunate enough to reach heaven, still our position in God's kingdom will depend on our own cooperation. We know that every degree of grace carries with it a corresponding degree of eternal glory. While breath lasts, we may continue to add to the amount of acquired grace-- which means that it rests with us (i.e., on our cooperation .with God's help) whether or not throughout an everlasting life we are to know God better, love Him more, and enjoy Him more completely and profoundly. This dependence is as'inevitable as that of the oak upon the acorn. But Msgr. Vaughan reminds us that many neither act nor speak as becomes men and women who have taken these truths to heart. If someone were to follow us as we go through our daily avocations, could be conclude that we are conscious of the fact that moment by moment we are drawing the plans and laying the foundations for an interminable future? Would be believe that we are aware that every one of our thoughts and actions is stamping our lives beyond the grave with an indelible mark and helping to make or mar a career that is unending? Since we easily recognize our inconsistencies, we cannot avoid~the questions: why this disparity between belief and practice? why do we behave so unreasonably? The general answer, at least in part, suggests itself at once; it is that, though we believe, we do not re~ alize. Truths affect us only in the measure that they come home to us. Even in the natural order, such truths as the distance of the .nearest.fixed star will come home to us only after a process of com-paring and contrasting. It is similar in the supernatural world. The great truths of faith affect us little because we do not realize them. We may believe them with a faith su6icient for the fulfillment of divine precepts; but unless we realize them--that is, make of them an inner experience that will work its way into our minds and hearts and permeate our whole being--they will never have the power to 81 IM. HAGSPIEL Ret~ietv for Religious the course of life, resist temptation, and give us the courage to "~ heroes and saints. The essence of~the matter is to bring our faith to the point of setting fire to our lives--the fire that Christ came to kindle--and to draw our souls out of the lukewarmness that has the disdain of God upon it. We can do this if we ponder over the truths that tell us of an invisible world, not merely skimming the surface of life, but following it to its hidden realities. By meditation the mustard seed of the gospel will grow and the kingdom 'of God that is within us will give forth its' secrets. The valhes of life here and hereafter will fall into their proper proportions, and the tranquillity of order will keep us on a steady course. Things invisible will grow visible to the eyes of. the spirit, and we shall have the thrill of knowing that we are not asleep amid the wonders that are about us. If we need added assuran, ce, we have only to look at those who have succeeded in the one great enterprise upon which we all are em-barked. From the example of the saints, all of whom have both practised this life-giving habit of meditation and exhorted others to do so, we draw the inevitable conclusion that it is a sure, simple, direct means of acqu~iring sanctity here and everlasting glory here-after. The great theologian Suarez declares it to be morally neces-sary for all who wish to rise above mere mediocrity. St. Teresa declares it impossible for anyone to practise meditation and at the same time continue to lead a tepid and sinful life. The two are mutually exclusive. Upon this matter the Holy Spirit Himself has spoken: "Think of thy last end and thou shalt never sin." And by the voice of the prophet He laas sago: 'With desolation is the whole world laid deso-late, because there is no man who considereth in his heart." it is a relief to turn for a moment from our own inconsistencies to the thought of the saints, to expose ourselves to the radiance of their uniform consistency. Even that well-known apostle of modern unbelief in Germany, Friedrich Nietzsche, who made no effort to conceal his hatred of the saints and did not hesitate to ridicule them, paid them an undeniable tribute. Obviously,' the loving humility of their surrender to God conflicted sharply with his theory of the superman. Nevertheless, he praised them "because they lived logi-cally according to their views," and he added that, compared with the saints,~''the ordinary average Christian cuts a sorry figure; he acts like a man who cannot count up to three." 82 March, 1954 ARE YOU A JELLYFISH? The saints not only realized their belief; they summed it up in effective maxims. For Augustine, "all that is not eternal is nothing": Stanislaus was born "for greater things": and Aloysius ruthlessly applied the question, "of what value is this for eternity?" And they lived ac,cording to these maxims. They were not jellyfish. To carry out the uncompromising program of the saints requires not 0nly logic but a spirit of self-denial, rt means mortification, penance, suffering. But here again we meet an inconsistency. Christ has left no doubt as to His teaching concerning our daily crosses and what to make of them. He laid down this lesson by both word and example; yet all too often the average Christian, and religious too, spontaneously turns away from the daily cross and abhors it as if it were an evil. We not only avoid suffering, but we tend to eliminate .every inconvenience. The way of the cross is not our chosen path, even though it leads to heaven. Theoretically we know that for those who love God all things work together unto good (cf. Romans 8:28), but do we live up to this knowledge? In practice--let us hu~mbly admit it--we too often act as if we could serve God well only as long as we can live in sufficient comfort and ease, as long as we are healthy and we/l, as long as we have success in our daily work and in our plans. How we dread the very thought ~f discomfort and material loss, of illness and disease, of ill success and failure! We seem to look upon such circumstances and conditions as so many hindrances and obstacles on the road to heaven: we imagine we can-not serve God so well any more; and our spirit of equanimity, of "holy indifference," and of conformity with the will of God is gone. Is not this jellyfish-like inconsistency? This is manifest especially when we find ourselves face to face with the necessity of makingade-cision in the choice of "creatures." Contrary to our'~better theoretical understanding ahd conviction, we catch ourselves ever ~o often se-lecting not what is lastingly useful to us, but what we think is more pleasant. We really ask ourselves not "what will help me most to serve God and to give Him pleasure?" .but "what will give me the least trouble?" Perhaps the climax of our inconsistency is r~ached in regard to Christ's law of charity. Again He has taught us by word and ex-ample. We must be kind to everyone. We must love everyone as we love ourselves. He has pointed out even the measure of our love. He has indicated also even the measure of our acts of kindness, "as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to 83 BRUNO M. HAGSPlEL Reoieto for Religious" me" (Matthew 25:40). Our Lord accepts every kindness to a ~eilow human being as though it were done to Himself; but He rega.r~l.s also -every unkindness as having been done to Himself. Must qce not tremble with apprehension when we remember all the uncharitable judgments, the petty bickerings, the pointed remarks that we l~vel at those around us? If we eliminate the grosser injuries of slander and calumny, what shall we say of the endless gossiping, the influendo, the taunting tone, the disparaging glance? Can we justify these things and make them consistent with God's law of love and God's own eternal love? What answer shall those who call themselves followhrs of Christ offer in explanation of unkindness, of hardness against those who have sinned, to the pitying Christ who with a divine hatred for sin had only mercy to show to the sinner? In our littlenes~ and our bitterness~, if we would find the r~medy, we need but look at Our Lord in one of tb'e most moving scenes of His earthly life, when the adulterous woman trembles at His feet while the Pharisees drop their accusing stones and slink away. Those who have consecrated themselves to Christ by the triple bond of poverty, chastity, and obedience, have chosen the three mos( potent safeguards against the fundamental weaknesses tin, at afflict our human nature. Here too the question is of supreme necessity: are we being consistent? Much too fr.equently we see that those who by the vow of poverty have voluntarily renounced all earthly pos-sessions will none the less frequently adhere to trivial things, be it a room or cell, a habit, even a dustcloth, knickknacks, trifles of every description. Even this leaves untouched the further question of in-ner poverty, the~stripping of the sp!rit that renders it unattached to all that is not needful, unattached even to itself. As for the vow of chastity, the purpose of which is to foster that undividedness by which the soul is wedded to God as to its Spouse, there are numerous ways in which inconsistency can show itself. Fidelity demands not only the observance of celibacy but also the exclusion of all things that unnecessarily endanger purity. Never-theless, much halfheartedness is evident in this respect among reli-gious. Many give way to undue attachments, indulge in the read-ing of dangerous literature, and by careless behavior Show the incon-sistency of believing one thing and doing another. The vow of obedience, this giving up, out of love for the obe-dient Christ, the most precious thing that we have, our own will, 84 March, 1954 YOU A JELLYFISH? puts consistency strongly to the test. The surrender to a God-given superior brings with it many interactions of rights and duties that give occasion for many a difficulty. How frequently self-will in affairs, both major and trivial, comes to the surface! When assign-ments are given we often see resistance, tears as of babies, excuses, an unwillingness to accept uncongenial work, pretenses of having no time for certain errands, various subterfuges. Superiors themselves do not always escape the danger of incon-sistency. Parallel to the'it rights to obedience they have their corre-sponding duties. A superior must be all things to all in the com-munity. Even here we frequently see partiality, an unwarranted establishing of precedents, an insistence on the "holy rule" as an end in itself, to the injury of some person concerned. All these things imply a disparity between that which the lips have professed and the behavior denies. Expediency takes the place of dedication and self-will usurps the primacy of self-sacrifice. We can easily im.agine Our Lord speaking to us as He spoke to the multitudes concerning John. To them He said: "What went you out into the desert to see? A reed shaken with the wind?" We can envision Him with His eyes upon us as we look through the ranks of those who have succeeded in this business of Christian living, and we ourselves can fashion the question: what did you come here to see? a jellyfish? a backboneless, glutenous substance? a semisolid hydrozoan? ' We may be sure that when Christ commanded His apostles to cast the net into the sea and the net nearly broke from the weight of the miraculous catch, there was but little room for a jellyfish. We may be equally certain that this helpless little creature was not the one chosen to be given as food to the hungering ap~ostles when the Master awaited them on the shore after His Resurrection. Happily we have still God's gift of time. We can, in a single moment of logical thinking and courageous willing, begin to make ourselves that which we desire to be. Unless we wish it, God be praised, we need not be jellyfish. MARIAN YEAR MEDAL PROJECT To encourage the wearing of the Miraculous Med~ during the Marian Year, the Daughters of Charity, of Milwaukee, are sendxng pledge cards with medals at-tached to all who request them. The cards contain a pledge to wear the~medal through the Marian Year. For the cards and medals write to: Daughters of Charity, 809 West Greenfield Avenue, Milwaukee 4, Wisconsin. 85 NEWS AND VIEWS NEWS AND VIEWS (Continued from Page 63) tion plan. Three thousand schools and organizations utilized the plan to have three hundred thousand homes consecrated to the Sa-cred Heart. As was the case with the picture of the Sacred Heart, framed glass-covered prints of the Immaculate Heart are now avail-able at 25 cents each. The companion pictures are obtainable in lots of thirty-six from the Nu-Dell Plastics Corporation, 2250 North Pulaski Road, Chicago 39, Illinois. Saturday lns?iCu,~e for Religious From Regis College, Denver, Colorado, comes news of an insti-tute for sisters held on four Saturdays during Advent and again on four Saturdays during Lent. Regis College has been conducting this institute for the past two years. The program found most suitable has been the following: 1:30 p.m., conference; 2:10 p.m., refresh-ments and social half-hour; 2:40 p.m., conference; 3:20 p.m., Benediction. Opportunity for confession is also provided., A preliminary questionnaire showed that the sisters preferred religious to academic topics. Some of the topics treated have been these: Appreciating the Mass; Mental Hygiene; Mystical Theology for Nuns; The Spiritual Life: The Psychology and Practical Diffi-culties of Prayer; Shakespeare and Catholicism; The Supernatural Life; Suffering; The Sisters in the Modern World; The Passion of Christ. The total attendance for the series in the first year was 1150 sisters. Unanimous requests for the continuance of the institutes show that the sisters like them and find them helpful. Catholic Periodical Index The Catholic Periodical Index covering the period, June, 1952- May, 1953, is now available. This contains a cumulative Author and Subject index to a selected list of Catholic periodicals. One has to see a publication like this to get even a faint idea 0f the pains-taking scholarship required in its composition. It is invaluable for libraries and writers. All communications regarding subscriptions, editorial policy, etc., should be addressed to: The Editor, Catholic Periodical Index, Catholic University of America. Room 301- Library, Washington 17, D.C. Catechism and Eucharistic Fast It is obvious that the new legislation on the Eucharistic fast re- (Continued on Page 102) 86 A Recent Con!:roversy on Obedience Richard W. Rousseau, S.J. ASMASH hit of the recent Paris stage for over a year was a play with an all-male cast: Hochw~ilder's Sur la terre cororoe au ciel (On Earth as It Is in Heaven). Though not a strictly historical play, it deals with the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Jesuit missions in Paraguay. In these missions, or reductions as they were ca/led, the Jesuits had built up a set of independent Indian cities where the Indians were learning the arts and crafts of a settled agri-cultural life, safe from the predatory, slave-making raids of certain Spanish settlers. Whether or not such a venture was by its very nature temporary and destined not to last is a moot question. In any case, it all came to a sudden and somewhat bloody end in 1767 when, heeding the trumped up charges of the discontented plantation owners, Charles III, King of Spain, ordered the reductions closed, the Indians dis-persed, and the Jesuits exiled. The play deals with those most dramatic moments of crisis when the Envoy of the King arrives with tbe message of dissolution, his imprisonment by the outraged Jesuit provincial, the arrival of the secret Jesuit messenger with orders from Rome to obey, the brief military clash, and the accidental death of the provincial. A French Dominican, H.-M. Feret, has written a short book of partly literary, partly theological criticism of the play) His literary conclusion is that the central theme'of the play is not obedience but rather the politico-ecclesiastical problem of the legitimity of the theocratic system of reductions. With that conclusion we are not concerned. The book treats of necessity, however, of obedience in itself. This section of the book has given rise to an interesting little controvers~ that we intend to examine here to see whether we can thus shed any additional light on that highly delicate problem of the Christian conscience. Fr. Feret's opinion is summed up in the fol-lowing passages: "The Christian theological explanation of obedience is relatively simple. Whether one considers the authority of the legislator who lSur la terre cororoe au ciel: le vrai drame de Hochtoalder, Contestations (Paris: Ed. du Cerf, 1953). 87 RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU ' Review for Religious develops and imposes ia law or the superior who watches over its ob-servance and applies it to concrete situations, or whether one consid-ers on the other hand the obedience of the inferior, the submission of the person who is subject to the law. we find that b:th submission and obedience, commanding and authority, have as a common, fun-damental norm th~ common good of the society or group in which takes place this commanding Or authority, this submission or obedi-ence . "That in addition obedience also concerns the personal life of the subject who obeys, if only in making clear to him how he can and must serve the common good, is quite clear: but this is only a secondary consideration. A superior does not give orders merely to intervene in the personal life as such of his subordinates, but to point out to them, and bring them to work for, the needs of the common good. In the same way, one does not obey to submit oneself to a superior, but in order to serve, by means of his orders, the common good of which he has the care.''2 Soon afterwards, dn the Jesuit journal 12tudes) Fr. Henri Hol-stein, S.J., commented thus on Fr. Feret's book: "Religious obedience is a sharing, through the habitual exercise of a spirit of faith, of the very obedience which St. Paul discerned in Christ, who became 'obedient unto death: even to the death of the cross.' . . . "[This] sharing of the obedience of Christ within the Church constitutes what we may call the objective side of Christian and reli-gious obedience. We must now show the subjective side, its place of insertion within the supernatural organism. We think that obedience flows from the theological virtue of faith, that it is inspired by a spirit of faith. Religious obedience is not, as a matter of fact, a purely sociological phenomenon, a way of acting demanded by the good order of the community .or by the efficient organization of the apostolate. 'It is essentially an attitude commanded b~j :aith.'" At this point, A.-M. Henry, O.P., one of the editors of the Dominican review of :spirituality, La Vie Spirituelle, enters the scene. In a short article4 he examines thus Ft.Holstein's pages. "Fr. Holstein is right it seems to us, in underlining the mystical side of obedience, in'presenting it as a sharing in the obedience of 21bid., pp. 48-50. 3Sept., 19~3: "Le myst~re de l'ob~issance.'" See pp. 147, 150, 152. 4"Le 'myst~re de l'oblissance'," La Vie Spirituelle. Nov., 1953. See p. 415. 88 March, 1954 CONTROVERSY ON OBEDIENCE Christ. It is. as a matter of fact, essentially that. Nevertheless, the doctrine he presents seems to us to be incomplete. We think, fur-thermore, that this criticism, in the best sense of the term, is not due simply to a question of emphasis or of a school of spirituality. We admire the obedience of the 'true sons' of the Society . But this does not prevent us from regretting the absence of two important points in the doctrine proposed by the worthy ,lesuit journal." Fr. Henry then develops two points: first, that obedience is not faith: and secondly, that obedience is not given immediately to God. A previous article of his in the Suplol~ment de La Vie Spirituelles had presented his own positive ideas on religious obedience. For his com-plete exposition of these two points both articles must be consulted. Explaining what he means when he says that obedience is not given irfimediately to God, Fr. Henry points to the fact that all gov-erning authority, civil as well as ecclesiastical, comes from God. The Church, he says, is not distinguished from other societies solely by the fact that it has hierarchical authority, but rather by its origin, its end, and its infallible teaching magisterium. Obedience' to govern-mental authority in the Church is not directed by norms that are entirely different from the norms that direct obedience to civil au-thority. All obedience is a free dependence, otherwise it is slavery. What then are the norms of this dependence? Here Fr. Henry admits the norm of Fr. Feret, but only in this context. He says that there are two necessary conditions for obedience to an order: first, that the order is not contrary to the divine positive or natural law, and sec-ondly, that it does not go b~yond the needs of the common good, which in all societies defines the power or jurisdiction of the superior. There are times when these conditions are not fulfilled, and then obedience must be refused. Here are some examples: the order of a local superior is directly contrary to that of a major superior; an or-der is given in a domain outside the power of the superior, e.g., if a Franciscan superior should order a Franciscan. to live his own spir-itual life according to the spirituality of the Societ'~ of 3esus: the weight of some orders, .their complexity and infinite detail make them tyrannical; or an order is against the natural or divine positive law. When therefore Fr. Holstein says "obedience consecrates to God not only a man's work, but the very principles of his'activities, his intellect and will," Fr. Henry answers that this can very well be 5$ept. 15, 1953, pp. 249-82: "Ob~issance commune et ob~issance rdigieuse." 89 RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU ¯ Ret~ieto for Religious understood as the complete gift of ourselves to God, which naturally includes our minds and wills (as in the Contemplation for Obtain-ing Di+ine Love of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius), but that this does not mean that we thereby somehow destroy the right and normal use of those faculties. He believes that the phrase as such, in the context of the article and lacking adequate distinctions, may lead to an understanding of obedience as a substitute for the natural and spontaneous working of the mind and will. For it can and does hap-pen that now and then men and women in religious orders thus mis-understand obedience, and see their minds and wills as mere instru-ments in the hands of the superior. Obedience is not' faith. This was Fr. Henry's first point. The Church herself, he says, is a supernatural society. To be a member of it requires supernatural admission. This supernatural society, be-sides her work of sanctifying through the sacraments, has a double function. The first 'is her teaching function. When she teaches for-mally,' she is infallible with the infallibility of God and .demands submission of the human intellect. The second is her governmental function or function of jurisdiction. Since she is a supernatural so-ciety, it follows that we could not recognize this authoritative func-tion of hers as legitimate, and therefore as representing God for us, without ultimately an act of faith. All this is, as Fr. Holstein rightly says, an imitation of the fa~ith and obedience of Christ. The object of the act of faith with regard to the governmental function of the Church is the office or the principle, that is, that the legitimate supe-rior represents God in the supernatural society which God has estab-lished. But--and this is extremely important, because it is where the expressions of certain writers can lead astray--the orders of a superior are not in themselves objects of faith, that is, they cannot command the assent of the intellect that is given only to the infalli-bility of God. When Fr. Holstein says that the submission which a religious grants to his superior is not given to a man but to the heavenly Father, whom he recognizes in the .superior--that is true, as long as one clearly distinguiShes the superior from God and the order of the superior from his office. The superior is essentially an intermediary and his orders are not infallible. Religious obedience is not based on the fact that the orders of the superior, since he repre-sents God, are infallible, but rather on the fact that since the superior has duly legitimate @uthority and is exercising it within the limits of that authority, his orders, even though objectively erroneous, are God's will for the subject and must be obeyed. 9O March, 1954 CONTROVERSY ON OBEDIENCE And so we come to the question of obedience of judgment, that Gordian knot Of religious obedience. Fr. Feret judges it rather se-verely. "Certain writers on obedience," he says, "mainly concerned with efficiency, whether ascetical or collective, have a tendency to preach a perfection of obedience that consists not only in a crushing of all self-will, which, putting aside all question of aboulia, is ac-ceptable enough, but even more, in a giving up of all personal opin-ign, or at least any opinion differing from that expressed in the su-perior's order. Now this, at le~ast if we judge by the moral the-ology of St. Thomas, runs the risk of an over-extension of obedi-ence that no good moralist could approve." Fr. Holstein does not treat explicitly of obedience of judgment, although the tone of his article supposes,it. And Fr. Henry treats it only incompletely. Fortunately, however, a pertinent article ap-peared recently in the theological review of the Diocese of Malines.~ The author, Fr. J. Brabants., a diocesan priest serving as a chaplain to nuns, had encount'ered so many theoretical difficulties concerning obedience of judgment .that he had decided to study the question more deeply. The results of his work are contained in the article, which has some penetrating observations and explanations. He treats with special clarity the case in which the subject, though willing to obey in act, finds that evidence to the contrary, forces him to recog-nize the objective unworthiness of an order. In such a case of physical impossibility of agreement by the intellect, must .we call the obedience of the subject mere obedience of execution or of the will? Would it then necessarily be excluded from the category of obedience of judgment, and therefore also from perfect obedience? This is the conclusion we must perforce come to if we demand actual conform-ity of the subject's mind with that of the superior as the essence of obedience of judgment. But is this what St. Ignatius himself taught? Fr. Brabants thus sums up St. Ignatius' formal teaching on the subject in his Letter On Obedience--teaching which must be carefully distinguished from those parts of the letter where St. Ignatius is merely being exhorta-tory or speaking" of practical means to acquire this perfection of obedience: "The complete and perfect offering of oneself is realized in the third degree of obedience by the submission of one's judgment to that of the superior in those cases in which the mind does not find itself bound bg the force of the truth . The really obedient man 6"Remarques sur l'ob~issance de jugement suivant saint Ignace," Collectanea Mech-liniensiao Nov., 1953, pp. 652-70. See especially p. 653. 91 RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU ought to bow to his superior s wishes. He approves the order re-ceived insofar at least as the will can bbnd the mind to this ap-prot~ al.'" Here St. Ignatius is teaching, first, that perfect obedience and obedience of judgment are identical; secondly, that sometimes the will, even though desiring to do so, cannot bring the intellect of the subject to agree with the superior's because the subject's intellect can in no way refuse solid, contrary arguments; thirdly, that obedience which of necessity cannot go beyond execution and will is rightly considered obedience of judgment; and fourthly, that this obedience of judgment is also perfect obedience. Obviously, however, if we give to the orders of superiors, be-cause of certain incomplete expressions concerning faith in obedience, a nature of quasi-infallibility, then actual conformity, at least by some very mysterious sort of faith, becomes essential to obedience of judgment and perfect obedience. But if, as has been explained, the motive of obedience is not the infallibility of the superior's order but his God-given function bf governmental authority, then actual in-tellectual conformity becomes accidental. We can define obedience of ju'dgment, therefore, as an inclination of the will to be so perfectly united with the will of the superior that it does all it can to bring the intellect to be in actual accord with the mind of the superior in a specific order unless reasons to the con-trary make this particular agreement impossible. We have thus examined all the authors and their articles. Re-garding the opinion of Fr. Feret, we agree with Fr. Holstein that it is inadequate. Rightfully, however, Fr. Henry points out that cer-tain aspects of Fr. Holstein's exposition need clarification, but be himself does not treat t,he question of obedience of judgment. On this last point, Fr. Brabants' article seems to us to present an illum-inating and interesting solution. We have taken the mystical notion of obedience.from Fr: Holstein, the thorough"analysis of the object and nature of obedience from Fr. Henry, and finally, from Ft. Bra-bants, the complementary considerations on the nature of obedience of judgment. And having made all the necessary distinctions and reservations, we can see in the sacrifices obedience occasions, in the graces it demands, in the faith it builds upon, in the trust in divine providence it requires, and in the identification it makes with the mystical obedience of Christ to his Father, how necessary and how noble a thing is religious obedience. 92 Benediction Brother Peter Goodman, C.S.C. IT IS INTERESTING to note during this Marian year that it was a devotion to Our Lady that was one of the forerunners of our present-day Benedidtion. It became the custom in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries for the faithful to gather together at the end of the day to sing hymns and canticles in honor of Mary. As this took place usually before her shrine in the local church, gradually another custom, that of exposing the Sacred Host for adoration (a carry over perhaps from the elevation at Mass), was added to give greater solemnity to the occasion. The use .Of a monstrance for holding the Host probably developed.from the need for such a vessel in which to carry the Host during the processions subsequent to the establishment of Corpus Christi. It has been suggested, too, that the monstrance might have originated from the practice of putting relics in glass reliquaries for veneration. As a fitting close for the service the Sacred Host was raised in blessing over the gathering. In .one of Cardinal Newman's lectures he describes the character and meaning of this rite in glowing terms, particularly the blessing. "It is our Lord's solemn benediction of His people, as when He lifted up His hands over the children, or when He blessed His chosen ones when He ascended up from Mount Olivet. As sons might come before a parent before going to bed at night, so once or twice a week the great Catholic family comes before the Eternal Father, after the bustle or the toil of the day: and He smiles upon them, and sheds upon them the light of His countenance. It is a full accomplish-ment of what the priest invoked upon the Israelites: 'The Lord bless thee and keep thee; the Lord show His face to thee, and have mercy on thee: the Lord turn His countenance to thee, and give thee peace.' " Upon reflection we might wonder why our vision of His counte-nance is not appreciably clearer, our peace not more firm and deep after we have received this blessing numberless times. Is it not be-cause we have failed to understand what is being done to "us, and failed to make full use of the power placed at our disposal? A,short paragraph in the encyclical Mediator Dei points the way 93 o . PETER GOODMAN Review for Religious to a keener appreciation of the rite of Benediction. In speaking of the blessing at the conclusion of the ceremony, our Holy Father says, i'. it is an excellent and fruitful thing that the priest, holding the Bread of Angels aloft before the bowed heads of the Christian multitude, and turning it about duly in the form of a cross, should pray the Heavenly Father kindly to turn His eyes to His Son crucified for love of us. and because of Him and through Him, Who willed to be our Redeemer and our Brother, should command supernatural gifts to flow forth to those who have been redeemed by the immaculate Blood of the Lamb." This eminently Christo-centric manner of approach is prob-ably not our usual method of praying at Benediction. We might be more inclined to bow low and feel, in imagination, the soft touch of Christ's pierced hands upon our heads and hear Him whisper, "See how much I have loved you." It requires faith, of course, to do this; faith in the Eucharistic Presence. But there are degrees in faith as there are degrees in shadow. Worldly things seen with our bodily eyes partake of the aspect of shadows'--"a, shadow's shadow, he, the Spokesman, tells us, a world of shadow!" (Ecclesiastes 12:8.) Things of the spirit, viewed with the eyes of faith, become clearer as faith deepens. To concentrate on the blessing itself, regarding it as a sort of mystical laying on of Christ's hands, does not seem to give suffi-ciently free rein to our habit of faith. Faith seeks not so much the blessing, as Him who bestows the blessing. It wants to encompass in an intuitive fashion this being who is not only human but divine. The Word was made visible to draw us upward to the love of things invisible. Christ tells us, "See, I hold you engraven on My hands and in My heart," but we are to pass through those wounds to knowledge of His Father and of the Holy Spirit. A lively faith is also acutely aware of Christ's role as Redeemer. The sacred humanity was ,broken by suffering that our human natures might be made whole by sharing in the very lif4 of the Trinity. To faith's clear vision, Christ is ever the "Lamb standing upright, yet slain" (Apoc. 5:6), the eternal Mediator between God and man. Our Lord has frequently urged us to pray in His name, to avail ourselves of His divine intercessory power. This we shall do if we pattern our sentiments at Benediction on the recommendation offered by His Holiness, Plus XII. Whet; the Sacred Host is raised above our heads in the salvific gesture of the cross, our first thought 94 March, 1954 BOOK REVIEWS will then be to beg thee Father to look upon His incarnated Son, formed by the operation of the Holy Spirit from the pure flesh of Mary. We shall remind Him to gaze upon the scars of the cruci-fixion sustained for love of us, the wounds in Christ's hands, feet, and heart. They are our means of violence with which we may rock heaven and bear away the Father's blessing. In virtue of these wounds, and of the love borne the Son by His Fa.ther, we can then with great confidence ask the Father to bless us and all the world. LISTEN, SISTER SUPERIOR. By John E. Moffaff, S.J. Pp. 208. McMul-len Books, Inc., New York: 1953. $2.75. Although one might strongly disagree with some points made by the author, yet the general impression created by Listen, Sister Supe-rior is that it is a thesaurus of practical advice, compiled by an ex-perienced director of sisters from his many years spent in giving re-treats to sisters throughout the country. Father Moffatt's creden-tials need hardly be given here because his many previous works have merited for him an enthusiastic throng of readers. As usual, the author's style is warm and engaging; his thought, uplifting and practical. As the title indicates, these spiritual chats are directed to superior's, but they are just as applicable and worth while to subjects. Often a sister in the ranks has suddenly lifted her eyes to find the hand of Divine Providence suture, oning her to lead others on the path of perfe.ction~ For many humble ones there is neither thought nor premonition that such an event could happen to them, and a wave of almost frantic helplessness overcomes them as they face their new obligations and realize their unworthiness and lack of preparation. Such persons will find this work a manual of arms in helping them to know clearly their new obligations: and the ideals presented would .soon enable the most timid to go forward with confidence, realizing with St. Paul that all things work unto good for those who love God. For the experienced sister superior each little chat might well provide matter for an examination of conscience and an inspiration in following her ideals. For the sister in the ranks this work will 95 BOOK REVIEWS ¯ Reoieto for Religious engender a greater understanding of the problems of her superior and will enable her to understand many decisions heretofore perplexing and seemingly harsh. For all, Listen, Sister Superior will pr.ovide an inspiring and refreshing review of the fundamental principles in-volved in silence, common life, poverty, rule of life, humility, jus-tice, and especially obedience.--EDWARD A. LARKIN, S.J. OBEDIENCE. Edited by A. PI~, O.P. Pp. viii ~ 289. The Newman Press, Westmins÷er, Maryland, 19S3. $3.7S. This volume contains the English version of a collection of re-ports presented by priests and sisters of various religious institutes at the 1950 conference of La Vie Spirituelle on the topic, "Obedi-ence and the Modern Nun." Although the book is primarily in-tended for religious women, more than half of the contents would be useful for all religious: and the entire book would seem to be indispensable for priests charged with the spiritual direction of re-ligious women. The loose unity characteristic of collections of this kind is offset in the present instance by an attitude and a theme which seem to have prey,ailed in most of the authors' approaches to their facet of the subject. The attitude is one of candor and honesty in facing the problem of evaluating and ordering the personalist and democratic tendencies which are certainly, if only indirectly, influencing con-temporary religious life. The theme is religious obedience as a vir-tue which involves a maximum of intelligent activity. The impact created by this contemporaneity of treatment is that of freshness rather than novelty. Suggestions and conclusions arise from a merger of the present historical condition with the vital tra-dition of Saints Basil, Benedict, Dominic, Francis, Ignatius, Thomas Aquinas, Teresa of ,Avila, John of the Cross, and Th~r~se of Lisieux. The tinique value of the book lies in this attt!mpt.to as-similate within the tradition of the Church whatever is good in modern psychology and the social drive toward personalism. Because of the variety of topics, a brief review can hardly give an accurate description of the contents of the book. Yet the flavor might at least be sampled by reading some short statements made by Henri Bissonier in histreatment of "Initiative and Obedience in Re-ligious Life." "Initiative is in full play when a subject can, and in some ways is obliged' to, give plain proof of his originality, free 4hoice and creativeness in the permissions he seeks. Obedience is in full play because the subject acts only when the permission sought 96 March, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS comes back to him as a permission granted with the validity of a command" (p. 237). "In brief, let initiative be not only tolerated by superiors but conceded, allowed, encouraged and almost, imposed. so long as a subject needs to be drawn out of that dangerous inertia which merely counterfeits obedience" (p. 238). The whole tendency of this book is to arouse a new appreciation and enthusiasm for obedience.-~ROBERT D. CROZIER, S.J. ~ BOOK NOTICES To GOVERN Is TO LOVE, by F. X, Ronsin, S.J., translated from the French by Sister Eugenia Logan, S.P., is addressed to superiors of religious women. Translations have appeared in Italian and Spanish, and others are being prepared in Polish, Dutch, and Por-tuguese. This book is a r~sum4 of a much larger work published by the ~uthor in 1947 under the title Pour Mfeux Gouoerner, which has not as yet been translated into English. It is divided into four parts: I, To Know Subjects; II, To Understand Subjects; III, To Form Subjects; IV, To Love Subjects. Although it is not easy reading, perhaps because it is a condensation, still superiors will find it well worth while to make a study of the points discussed and to ponder on them, for their benefit as well as for that of the members of the community. (New York: Society of Saint Paul, 1953. Pp. 288. $3.00.) ~ To write profoundly, correctly, simply, a~d clearly on any aspect of the Catholic teaching on grace is a genuine achievement. John V. Matthews, S.J., once did this on the subject of actual grace. More recently be has done the same thing as regards sanctifying grace. THE LIFE THAT IS GRACE gives in simple, readable chapters the profound truths pertaining to the doctrine of sanctifying grace, and presents these truths in a practical, inspirational manner. (West-minster, Md.: The Newman Press. 1953. Pp. vii q- 196. $2.50.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part. these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. A Life of Mar~t, Co-Redemptrix. By Peter A. Resch, S.M. "This little work tries to set forth the life of the Blessed Mother 97 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review [or Religious simply and positively, amplifying the gospel story only by the in-~ terpretations which the Church seems to favor in her liturgy, in her papal pronouncements, and in her recognized commentators." Pp. 96. $1.00. CATHOLIC LITERATURE DISTRIBUTORS, 660 N. Dearborn St., Chicago 10, I11. The Wife Desired. By Leo J. Kinsella. As the title indicates, this book gives the qualities that are desired in a good wife. Ac-cording to the various chapters, the wife desired is an inspiration to her husband, has personality, is patient, is a physical being, has a sense of humor, is a companion to her husband, and is religious. This is the first book to be published by the Catholic Literature Distributors. Pp. 168. $2.50. (Paper edition, 70 cents.) THE DAUGHTERS OF ST. PAUL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby,N.Y. Louis Martin: An Ideal Father. By Louis and Marjorie Wust. In this book the authors have given us "the first life in English of a saintly father of a sainted daughter." This life of the father of the Little Flower of Jesus "is presented in a pleasant and entertaining style." Pp. 375. $3.00. (Paper edition, $1.50.) EXPOSITION PRESS, 386 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N. Y. Living for God. By Rev. Manuel Milagro, C.M.F. "The book is designed for those who have a fair knowledge of the doc- .trine and the teachings of faith, hope, and charity; who have expe.ri-enced the bitterness of the struggle required to lead a virtuous life; but yet, who find their way more or less clouded by a feeling of anxiety." Pp. 116. $2.50. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 21 W. Superior St., Chicago 10, Ill. Wisdom Shall Enter. By Leo J. Trese. A book of modern apologetics presented in readable style. Contains an introduction, sixteen chapters, and two appendices., The chapters deal with standard apologetic themes: existence of God; man's immortality and freedom; need of religion; credentials of Christ and His Church; and so forth. The appendices treat briefly of the nature of God, and of the dictum that outside the Catholic Church there is no salvation. Pp. 144. $2.75. The Apostolic Itch. By Vincent J. Giese. "A group of reflec-tions from the lay point of view, on the lay apostolate, particularly the directions it should take in the years ahead." The author is edi-torial director of Fides Publishers, which is dedicated to serying the 98 March, 19~4 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS lay apostolate. Pp. 126. $2.75. The Kingdom Is Yours. By P. Forestier, S.M. An "unpre-tentious commentary of the Gospel," as the author says in his Preface, in which "youth will be able to meet Christ, to hear His teachings directly, to gaze at leisure upon His sacred person, and to learn at first hand the virtues that make true and perfect Christians. Young men and women will realize that religion is not like other school subjects, such as science or literature, for instance. They will discover that religion enriches the whole personality--the mind, the heart, and the soul." Pp. xiii q- 189. $3.50. WILFRED FUNK, INC., 153 E. 24th St., New York 10, N;Y. Catholic Shrines in the United States and Canada. By Francis Beauchesne Thornton. "What.I have tried to do is to give the his-tory of noted places of popular pilgrimages: places where the attrac-tion of a saint, an atmosphere, or a devotion, has drawn men and women with the compelling magnetism Chartrek had for Henry Adams" (from the author's Preface). The book tells the story of one hundred and nineteen of these noted places and gives exact loca-tions, with maps and photographs. Beautifully printed and illus-trated. A distinctive contribution to the story of Catholicism in Canada and the United States. Its price, as prices range ~today, is very moderate. It should be in every Catholic home and institution. Pp. xii + 340. $4.75. GILL ~ SON, 50 Upper O'Connell St., Dublin, Ireland. Our Lady of the Smile. By Rev. St6phane doseph Piat, O.F.M. One of the memorable events in the life of the Little Flower is the apparition of Our Lady when she was a child. It was at this time that Our Lady smiled on Th6r~se. In this book Father Piat shows how the Little Flower later fostered the devotion to Our Lady of the Smile, and how this. devotion has spread since her death. Pp. x + 134. 5/6. We Catholics. By Robert Nash, S.d. This is a second volume of short essays on what might be called the everyday spirituality of Catholics. Besides the Introduction. there are twenty-six essays on practical topics and in the readable style that we have come naturally. to expect of Father Nash. Pp. viii ~- 136. 5/. Plus X. By Fr. Hieronymo Dal-Gal. ~Translated and adapted from the Italian by Thomas F. Murray, M.A. An authentic bi- 9grapby based on ot~cial records. For the sake of readability this English adaptation omits the notes and abbreviates some of the 99 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENT~ Reuieu~ for Religious material contained in the original Italian. Good for both private and public reading. Pp. xv ÷ 246. 15/. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Mission [or Margaret. By Mary Fabyan Windeatt. This is a life of St. Margaret Mary, with special reference to the devotion to the Sacred Heart and the practice of Communion on the First Fri-day, told in story form. Pp. 230. $3.00. B. HERDER BOOK CO., 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. The Philosophy of Being. By Rt. Rev. Louis De Raeymaeker. Translated by Rev. Edmund H. Ziegelmeyer, S.J. A synthesis of metaphysics in which "the author follows the lines of thought of St. Thomas Aquinas, and makes convincing application of the doc-trines of the analogy of being and the real distinction between es-sence and existence in all contingent beings." Not a textbook: but suggestions for using' it as a textbook are furnished by the trans-lator. Pp. xii -k 360. $4.95. HOLY SHROUD GUILD, Esopus, N. Y. Self-Portrait of Christ. By Edward A. Wuenschel. C.SS.R. The author is a recognized authority on the Holy Shroud of Turin. In this book' he presents the arguments for and against the authenticity of the Shroud and concludes that it is authentic. Good photographs of the Shroud are included, as well as an excellent and detailed bibliography. Pp. 128. $1.00 (paper). P. J. KENEDY ~ SONS, 12 Barclay St., New York 8. N.Y. A Doctor at Calt~ar~t. By Pierre Barbet, M.D. Translated from the French by the Earl of Wicklow. In this book Dr. Barber, an eminent French surgeon, gathers together his many writings and lectures on the physical sufferings of Christ. His interest in this sub-ject began when be saw photographs 6f the Holy Shroud. His work is based on a careful study of the impressions on the Shroud, as well as of archaeology, history, scriptural exegesis, and so forth. Pp. 178, plus 12 pages of photographs. $3.00. The Epistles in Focus. By B. Lawler, S.J. Contains a'n explan-atory foreword and sixteen chapters. The first two chapters are in-troductory. "All the remaining chapters," says the author, "are devoted to one or two Epistles in turn. Each c,hapter contains (i) useful information, followed by (ii) a brief commentary. (i) The information is partly certain, partly conjectural: you need not take it all as 'gospel-truth,,' . . . (ii) The commen'tary makes no preten- 100 March, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS sions either to completeness or to havir;g a balanced selection of learned opinions. It is merely what I regard as necessary or useful for the ordinary reader." The book concludes with useful schematic summaries of the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles. Pp. 165. $3.00. NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Faith and Prayer. By Vincent McNabb, O.P. A reprint of works formerly published by Father McNabb. Pp. ix-I- 215. $3.50. The Fulness of Sacrilice. By A. M. Crofts, O.P. A study of the Eucharist intended to "help the reader to appreciate the Sacrament and Sacrifice of the Eucharist, not.merely as a truth isolated within itself, but as the culmination of God's vast and eternal design of Re-demption, gradually unfolded down the ages of preparation, and, once fulfilled, for ever perpetuating the fulness of sacrifice in the re-deeming mystery of the Messiah."' Pp. 296. $3.00. The Trinity in Our Spiritual Life. By Dom Columba Marmion, O.S.B. The Abbot Marmion once composed a beautiful Consecra-tion to the Blessed Trinity. This book contains the Act of Conse-cration, and an explanation of each part of the Act by means of apt selections from other published works of Dora Marmion. Pp. 284. $3.50. The Scale of Perfection. By Walter Hilton. A noted English classic on perfection translated into modern English, with an intro-duction and notes by Dom Gerard Sitwell, O.S.B. The fifth volume to be published in the new Orchard Series. A book which is indis-pensable for the student of Christian asceticism and mysticism and which makes charming and unctious spiritual reading. Pp. xx-~ 316. $3.50. RADIO REPLIES PRESS, 5'00 Robert St., St. Paul 1, Minn. That Catholic Church. By Rev. Dr. Leslie Rumble, M.S.C. Edited in collaboration with the Rev. Charles Carty. A sequel and companion book to the three volumes of radio replies published pre-viously by Frs. Rumble and Carry. This volume contains 1650 replies to questions, also a detailed index. Pp. x ÷ 453.$3.50. (Paper edition, $2.50.) TEMPLEGATE, 719 E. Adams St., Springfield, Ill. Christopher's Talks to Catholic Teachers. By'David L. Green-stock. Advice to Catholic teachers covering their own preparation, religious teaching methods, the manner of dealing with various age 101 NEWS AND VIEWS Reoiew /:or Religious groups, also of dealing with the abnormal child, vocational counsel-ing, and so forth. Pp. xi + 228. $3.75. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York 7, N.Y. Kegs to the Third Floor. By Philip E. Dion, C.M. A very practical and readabl~ .treatise on how to live the religious life well especially by imitating Christ in His obedience, His love of the poor, His love of the cross, and His love of enemies. Pp. 188. $3.25. Nr-WS AND VII:WS (Continued from Page 86) quires some changes in our catechisms. Of special interest, there-fore. is the communication of the Sacred Congregation of the Coun-cil published in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, December 16, 1953, pp. 809-810. According to this communication, the Sacred Con-gregation of the Holy Office, with the approval of the Holy Father, has ordered certain changes in nn. 335, 339, and 340, of the Catechism of Blessed Pius X. The following is an accurate sense-translation of the new version of these numbers: 335. What is required to make a good Communion? Ans. To make a good Communion, three things are required: (1) to be in the state of grace: (2) to know and to bea~ in mind who is going to be received; (3) to be fasting from midnight. 339. In what does the Eucharistic fast consist? Ans. The Eucharistic fast consists in abstaining from food or drink of any kind, with the exception of plain water. 340. May one who is not fasting euer receiue Communion? Ans. One who is not fasting may receive Communion in danger of death; also in definite circumstances determined by the Church. 340-bis. What are these de£nite circumstances determined by the Church ? Ans. They are the following: , 1) The sick may receive Holy Communion, even after taking medicines or liquids; if, because of grave inconvenience recognized as such by the confessor, they are unable to observe a complete fast. 2) Those who receive Communion at a late hour or after a long journey or after fatiguing work may take some liquid nour-ishment up to an hour before going to Communion, if they experi-ence grave inconvenience recognized as such by the confessor in ob- 102 March, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS serving a complete fast. 3) At evening Masses, those who have abstained from solid foods for three hours and from liquid for one hour may receive Communion, 340-ter. When permission is granted to take liquids, are alcoholic drinks included? Ans, When permission is granted to take liquids, alcoholic drinks are excluded. Summer Sessions Reverend James I. O'Connor, S.J., professor of canon law at West Baden College, will ~ive a course entitled "Canon Law con-cerning Religious," at Immaculate Heart College, Los Angeles, from June 28 to July 31, inclusive. This is a general course directed to all religious women, and it will be given during the regular summer session. There is adequate housing on th~ campus for out-of-town religious. For further information address: The Dean, Immaculate Heart College, Los Feliz and Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, California. The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia. Dallas, Pennsylvania, (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for sisters) will be held this year August 20-31. This is the second year in the triennial course. The course in canon law is given by the Reverend :losepb F. Gallen, S.J., that in ascetical theology by the Reverend Daniel J. M. Callahan, S.J., both of Woodstock College. The registration is restricted to higher su-periors, their councilors and officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Rev. Jo-seph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. Marquette University offers an Institute on Canon Law for Re-ligious, to be held on six week ends during the 1954 summer session. The Institute will be conducted by the Reverend Adam C. Ellis, S.J., a member of the editorial board of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Although primarily intended for superiors, masters and mistresses of novices, councilors, bursars, and others charged with some direction of reli-gious communities, the institute will be open to all religious. The meetings will be held on successive Friday afternoons at 3:30-5:15, and successive Saturday mornings at 9:00-11:00. The first ses-sions will be June 18-19. Father Ellis will also give one special con-ference on "The Mind of the Church in the Government of Reli-gious," discussing such problems as adaptation, studies, physical care 103 NEWS AND VIEWS Retffew ~or Religious of the community, sleep, diet, work, and the like. Another special feature will be a question box. Registration fee for all twelve sessions will be ten dollars; for individual sessions, one dollar. For a detailed list of topics to be treated at the various sessions, as well as for regis-tration and further information write to: The Director, Summer Session, Marquette Universi.ty, Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. C, anonizaflons, 195 I The Clergy Monthly, edited by the Jesuit Fathers at St. Mary's Theological College, Kurseong, D.H. Ry., India, has published short biographical sketches of those who have been beatified or canonized during ~he reign of Pope Plus XII. With the gracious permission of the Editor of The Clergy Monthly, we have already reprinted the biographical sketches of those canonized or beatified from 1939 to the end of the Holy Year, 1950. (See RE.VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII [1949], 3-17; IX [1950], 330-31; X [1951], 225-38.) The following are brief sketches of those canonized during 1951: St. Emily de Vialar: born, 1797; died 1856; beatified, 1939; canonized, June 24, 1951. Foundress of the Sisters of St. Joseph "of the Apparition." By 1952 her institute had become an impor-tant missionary congregation, with 2,000 members in 125 houses. St. Mary Dominic Mazzarello: born, 1837; died, 1881; beati-fied, 1938; canonized, June 24, 1951. Cofoundress, with St. John Bosco, of, the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians. Don Bosco wanted a congregation that would do for girls what his own Sales-ians were doing for boys. By 1952 there were more than 14,000 Salesian Sisters in 58 countries. St. Anthony Gianelli: born, 1789 ; died, 1846 ; beatified, 1925 ; canonized, October 21, 1951. As a diocesan 15riest he distinguished himself in educational work and in the parish ministry. In 1838 he was appointed bishop of Bobbio. He founded an institute of sisters for teaching poor children and nursing the sick-~the Daughters of Mary dell' Orto. In 1952 this institute had 1,400 members in Europe, Latin America, and Asia. St. Francis-Xaoier Biancbi: born, 1743; died 1815; beatified, 1893; canonized, October 21, 1951. A Barnabite, professor of theology, great preacher, and director of souls. The peopl~ of Naples venerated him as the Philip Neri of their city. St. lgnatius of Laconi: born, 1701: died 1781; beatified, 1940; canonized, October 21, 1951. A Sicilian Capuchin lay brother/ He i 04' March, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES spent most of his long life begging food for the Capuchin monastery --an occupation that gave him many opportunities to do good for souls. The last three.salnts, the Holy Father observed on the occas;on of their canonization, differed much in their external life--a bishop, a theologian, and a lay brother--but all three were great apostles. All three were remarkable for overcoming natural family affections and self-love, for being constantly united with God in the midst of manifold occupations, and for dedicating themselves ardently to the salvation and sanctification of their neighbor. Francis N. Korth, S.J. An informal two-day gathering of a number of priests interested in secular institutes was held at the Morrison Hotel in Chicago, Feb-ruary 22 and 23. Various parts of the country were represented. The meeting developed out of a questionnaire sent to interested per-sons last December. The questionnaire mentioned the possibility of a meeting of priests who might already know something about sec-ular institutes or who might be desirous of learning something about this type of institute. Those who received the questionnaire were asked to contact other priests who might be interested. Father Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C., of Notre Dame University, was chiefly re-sponsible for getting the meeting together. A small but select group of priests gathered for the opening ses-sion at ten o'clock the morning of February 22. It became imme-diately apparent that these priests had come together for a very definite purpose and that they were wholeheartedly concerned with the topic under discussion. A short introductory paper followed by discussion was the planned outline for each session. The lively, lengthy discussions that characterized each meeting amply fulfilled all expectations. The first paper treated the topic: "The Role of Secular Institutes in the Church Today." It was presented by the Reverend Raymond E. Bernard, S.J., of the Institute of Social Order at St. Louis. A number of pertinent historical items, from the eighteenth century up FRANCIS N. KORTH Reoieu., [or Religious to the present time, were noted. It was pointed out that the blend-ing of firmness and flexibility in the Prooida Mater Ecclesia wisely allowed for the growth of the new institutes under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. ~ The afternoon session of the first day was devoted to a paper and discussion on the juridical requirements of secular institutes, the initial ~teps to be taken in forming a group that might develop into a secular institute, further steps, consolidation, and final ap-proval in a diocese. Subsequent papal approval is a further possi-bility. This matter was ably presented by the Reverend Andr~ Guay, O.M.I., Director of the Catholic Center at the University of Ottawa. Guides in formulating steps of development are the docu-ments that have emanated from the Holy See and the constitutions of approved secular institutes. The first definite general purpose of a secular institute is the sanctification of its members; any apostolate that follows is an outgrowth of that. There must also be a definite specified purpose, which might be quite general, such as the purpose to undertake the various types of work the bishop may suggest, provided there is no one else to do that work. At the beginning de facto approval by the local ordinary should be obtained, and then the group will function as best it can. Great care is to be exercised in admitting applicants, since there is question of a very special vocation for life, a vocation that makes peculiar de-mands upon the individual because of the complete dedication of oneself to a practice of the evangelical counsels in the world. In a true vocation of this kind God's grace will not be wanting. After experience shows that the group can function along the lines of a possible secular institute and that it has within itself the potential ability to carry on, the bishop is to be approached again, this time for de jure recognition of the existing group as a pious as-sociation of some kind (society, sodality, or some other form). After such recognition is obtained, the succeeding period is

Transcript of an oral history interview with Reinhard M. Lotz, conducted by Sarah Yahm at Norwich University in Northfield, Vermont, on 10 April 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Reinhard Lotz graduated from Norwich University in 1960; the bulk of the interview focuses on his subsequent military career in the U.S. Army. ; 1 Reinhard M. Lotz, NU 1960, Oral History Interview April 10, 2015 Sullivan Museum and History Center Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: Could you introduce yourself on tape? RON LOTZ: Yeah, my name's Reynard M. Lotz, they call me Ron. And I'm living in St. Louis, Missouri at the time. I had 30 years in the army and retired in 1990. So that means I'm the class of 1960. So again, it means that I'm in my 77th year. SY: Seventy seventh year, congratulations. So where were you born? RL: I was born in Jamestown, New York in 1938. SY: Where is Jamestown? RL: Jamestown is a town that I spent about four months in and then I really grew up in Waterbury, Connecticut. That was an industrial town, blue collar town, brass center of the world during the 19 -- actually up until after the war, until the 1950s. I can remember World War II and the blackouts. I can remember going by the factories that used to run 24 hours a day seven days a week and all the machines click clacking away. And they were making shell casings and that for the war effort. SY: And what were your parents doing during the war? RL: Well my mother was a stay at home mom. I had a sister. And my father ran the F.W. Woolworth Company, five and ten cent store there in town. And so when I was growing up I started working for my father when I was eight years old. And my father would pay me out of his own pocket. SY: Really? RL: Yeah, just because I wanted to earn some money and then I also did things like wash cars for 50 cents and mow lawns for 50 cents. So I was an entrepreneur. SY: I was just going to say, you were a little entrepreneur. Excellent and so when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? RL: You know it's a funny thing, I had some likes, but I never knew I would follow those. But I love military history. I love to read. And when I was at a very young age, I took my mother's library card and went into the adult section and got books to read. SY: You were one of those -- hold up, I got to close that door because of the sound of the vacuum is much louder on tape. RL: I understand.2 SY: Hey there. F2: Hello. SY: I'm doing interviews and the vacuuming is super loud. Do you know who's vacuuming and why? F2: No idea, but (inaudible) [00:02:31]. SY: OK, well I'll see you tomorrow. We'll just have to deal with the vacuuming. OK so you took the library card and you went -- RL: Into the adult section and got books and read them. I was one of those kids that loved to read and military history was one of my passions you might say. SY: I ask this to everybody actually, did you play war as a kid? RL: Yes, in the sandbox outside my back door. We had a sandbox. And I had plastic soldiers from that timeframe and I used to dig caves and castles and machine gun pits and the whole bit. SY: And was it World War II in your mind, was it World War I, was it the Civil War, was it the Revolutionary War. RL: Well it was World War II because I grew up in that timeframe and that was the thing that was most prevalent at the time. And during that time, you're going to grammar school, if you turned in newspaper and depending on how many bundles, et cetera, et cetera, you get stripes. I don't know if they call that PTA or whatever but there was an emblem you could put on your sleeve on your jacket with stripes on it depending on how much you collected and contributed to the war effort. SY: Interesting. Wow, OK, so the war was very much a part of your childhood. So how did you end up deciding to go to Norwich? RL: Well I went to a prep school, Mount Hermon, which was in Massachusetts, northern Massachusetts. But it was a prep school that part of your tuition was paid with working eight hours a week. And so when I went there I started off in the farm working with dairy cows. And then my second year I was groundskeeper and my third year building cleaning. And the epitome of my career at prep school was that I was a waiter in the dining facility which gave you a lot more free time and you became the friend of a lot of people who liked to sit at your table because you would make sure that you were in the kitchen, the first to get the food, et cetera, et cetera, and they always had second helpings. So I was at Mount Hermon and I applied to three colleges. One I was put on a waiting list, one I was rejected, and the other was Norwich University. Now I was a C+ student. So -- SY: Even with all that reading?3 RL: Oh with all that reading. My reading skills were far superior to my age, but the point being is that I came to Norwich and there was a lieutenant colonel -- no, he wasn't a lieutenant colonel, he was a first sergeant or sergeant major at that time. He was lieutenant colonel my freshman year. But he took me around the school and so impressed me with his attitude towards the school plus also how he treated me as a person that when I left I told my parents that's where I wanted to go. Now you have to realize too at that time all of us had to have a military obligation. Either you went in for six months, then the reserve or you went for two years active duty and that. So we were going to have to go into the military anyway and I loved military history. And when I came to Norwich University I just kind of fit in you might say. SY: Yeah, so what was your experience like as a rook? A lot of people have described a harsh awakening at that moment. Were you prepared? RL: I guess since I've been away to prep school and been away from home and that that I was able to adapt a lot easier maybe than those who had not been. I took it all with a grain of salt. I said these are things you're going to have to put up with so keep your mouth shut and grin and bear it. SY: Now were there some kids -- I know there were a lot of kids who washed out, it was like 51% or something in your class. Dick did the math. He told me. But do you remember, were there kids who got targeted? Do you remember hazing or was it mostly just like this is just something we need to get through, this is an elaborate game? RL: I think that there's always a certain amount of hazing. Hazing not in a real rough or negative sense, but hazing in the sense that maybe one guy or several people just maybe don't fit the mold so therefore they might get a little bit more of harassment than you did. Or maybe that you have adapted and try to do what the cadet is telling you to do, therefore the heat's off you. And we always used to try to help those cadets or rooks who were having a tough time. Heck, we helped polish their shoes. We made sure their uniforms were pressed. Some kids just weren't capable of accomplishing all that. And then you have to say too, I think today at Norwich the qualifications academically and everything have improved a great deal. Now you have SATs and ACT scores. Back in those days, it was based upon submission and also the recommendation from your teachers and of course your grades. But Norwich is a totally different school today versus back in the 1950s. SY: Yeah, but that's interesting. So you do remember helping kids out. RL: Oh yeah, absolutely. And some of the rooks harassed the rooks. I mean it wasn't just upper classmen. But it was sometimes -- it's a predator type of atmosphere and I think it's human nature. You just have to be careful of that and aware of it and make sure that it doesn't happen if you can do something to stop it, you see. SY: Yeah, and that's always the question is how do you keep it from crossing that line. RL: That's right. And it's how strong a person you are. If you're a very strong person with morals and with firm beliefs, then you try to do something to change that, but it's the 4 method in which you change that that's the key. If you're abrasive or in your face or something, the person that you're talking to or trying to get something changed, it's not going to work. You have to be able to balance it out and approach it in the right way in order to get results. And I learned this at Norwich. I used that all through my army career, is to approach something -- always treat the other person like you would like to be treated yourself. When you had a problem with a person, you sometimes had to be tough and some outright terminate his career or whatever, but it sometimes had to be done. It's not the fact that you wanted to do it, but the fact is that they broke the rules and there's nothing that you're going to repair it. You've had it. SY: Do you remember any moments at Norwich when you learned that lesson, any of those like difficult leadership dilemmas? It was a long time ago. RL: Well it's that I remember the good days. I remember one rook who he was never going to make it at Norwich because his intellect was to the point where you would say that it was at a level that was not college level, let me put it that way. Yet we tried to prep him for exams and things like that and we tried but he was finally eliminated because of his academics and he just couldn't do what had to be done. SY: It was almost cruel to keep him in the system. What part of the highs that you remember from your time in Norwich? RL: The comradery. SY: Had you experienced that before at boarding school? RL: No, I don't have friends -- my boarding school was something that I survived it. Academic-wise and everything else, it was a challenge for me. I was actually in a school that I was doing college work and so that prepared me though for Norwich because when I came to Norwich I was fully prepared to face the academics and know how to handle all that. So I got to say, that's a big plus. But when I got to Norwich, my relationships with the school and the profs and everything else, I remember the PMSNT, I remember those people who worked in the PMSNT office. I remember Major Pekoraro who was the engineer major there. And I was a business major but I joined the engineer society because of this major because he was a Korean War veteran who was a POW. And he was a role model. He was tough but just and just the type of person you felt you'd like to be around and learn from. There was a guy named Hardy who was a captain. And I think he had a relative or a brother or something that was going to Norwich at the time and he was an armored guy and he was a friendly, nice person. And then there was -- and some of the names here, I can't -- there was a lieutenant colonel there who also was a very role model. These guys were role models. The PMSNT was the tough guy, didn't have much association with him. But at Norwich I learned, because of our social life with our fraternities and things like that, it gave us an outlet and we had a closer relationship. And I think the class of 1960 has done amazingly well keeping abreast of each other and I've lost in the past year several of my classmates of whom I talked to before they passed on, just several days before they passed on, from the point that I wanted to say goodbye. It's a tough thing to do. You have to realize now that I'm on a 5 shortlist and those guys were important. And I think our class is like that. But Norwich has been a great influence on me because it gave me the opportunity for the leadership positions, I was a cadre member every year. My senior year I was -- we had the freshman battalion at that time and I was made the executive officer in charge of all the academics for all the freshmen. So I had to have academic boards. And we met on those with records of those cadets who were not achieving the standard that needed to be to graduate. So we would review their records and then recommended action, help, tutoring, or whatever it needed to try to get that kid back on track to get the rook, get them through that first year. SY: Do you think that type of dedication to the wellbeing of your rooks made you a better leader in the military later? RL: I think it did, but let me relate something that happened at summer camp. I was in the honor tank platoon and I also was -- SY: Hold on a second. It's like we're crossed here, it's like star crossed, you know what I mean. RL: I don't know if you can -- SY: I'm going to see if I can get Heather. (inaudible) [00:15:00] They're redoing the library. But it's like if somebody's talking in the hallway -- but they're right over there. She's going to ask. If she doesn't, we might just need to shell this as well into the back. RL: Are we going to have repeat all this again? SY: No, I can edit it together. But I want people to be able to listen to actual sound clips that don't involve listening to somebody -- RL: You can say that's combat. (laughter) You can hear the guns in the background, you know. SY: Exactly, this is so authentic that I took my recording all the way into whatever. Did Heather work her magic? I think she might've worked her -- RL: No, I don't think she's had time to -- and I don't think they're going to stop. They're on a time schedule and what's going to happen is they're going to just drive you nuts and have you do it. SY: You know this happens, they don't do work for days and I don't know their schedule and I can't ever get it. And then I'm like, "Great, they're done for a while." Then I bring someone in. This has happened to me like two or three times. RL: Well let me think. Want to try? SY: Yeah, let's keep talking.6 RL: If we can't maybe I can do something tomorrow, if I can. SY: Yeah, if you can you can pop by and if not, you're going to be back in October. RL: OK, we were talking about ROTC and summer camp. And I went to summer camp at Fort Knox -- thank you. SY: You're awesome. RL: And when I was there, we had two companies, A and B, and I was company A. And we had a lot of Norwich grads were there, plus VMI, plus Citadel, plus from all over, from all the ROTC units. And this was at Fort Knox. And there were two incidents that I remember vividly. One is that on a Saturday afternoon in 90 degree heat in my khaki uniform with an M1 on my shoulder, I was walking guard duty around the barracks that we lived in, World War II barracks. And the rest of the cadets were getting ready to go off because after twelve o'clock on Saturday they could go into town and do all that and I had the guard duty. I was on guard. And so I was walking around the barracks and one of the tac officers came up to me from Norwich and I reported to him and the general orders and the whole bit. And I was soaking wet. And he says, "Well how's it going?" And I turn to him and I said and I was facing him and I said, "Well sir I'm going to tell you that this has taught me one lesson, that I will never go into this man's army as a private." And he laughed. Well let me tell you, I was very serious about that. And then it came to where we were closing out and we were going to rate our contemporaries in the barracks and that. One of my classmates came up to me and said, "Ron," he says, "Don't you worry." He says, "Me and the boys are going to take care of you." And what he meant was that of all the Norwich guys and all the guys in that barracks that these guys had gotten together and rated me number one. SY: And why were you rated number one. RL: Because I think they liked me. You can't question that because you never are actively trying -- you're treating people the way you want to be treated. And you want to be a leader in the sense that you do the right thing at the right time and for the right reason. But when he came up and told me that and there were some pretty high powered Norwich guys in the cadet corps and they were going to be -- running the regiment that coming year. And so when it all came out there were two guys ranked top in armor ROTC summer camp. One was from VMI and one was from Norwich. It was me and one other guy. And so we went up head on head competition and the guy from VMI won out, which is fine because I went in there kind of naïve and I didn't know what to expect. But the point being was that I had the opportunity, Norwich had the opportunity, and Norwich did well at summer camp. And that was all that was important to me. So those things impacted on me and also the professors like Loring Hart who later became president of the university, he was my English teacher. And I was the news editor on the Guidon. And we had some West Point cadets come up because we had fraternities at that time, they said to us, "Boy do you guys have it great here," because of the social life and everything. And that was the greatest thing about Norwich. Norwich has always been about the citizen soldier. Now this is before we had civilian students, so you got to 7 realize that what I'm talking about here is my time at Norwich as a cadet corps, the citizen soldier. They trained us to go out into the world and be a civilian but if the country needed us, to come back and to serve our country. And that was our whole philosophy. SY: And I think the other element of the citizen solider that I find compelling is the idea that you're a thinking citizen with a trained mind and you also know how to follow orders, right? RL: Absolutely. SY: And so I'm wondering as you sort of went on in the army if that training as a citizen soldier ever got you into trouble. Did those two things ever clash, your moral code, your ethics, your trained mind, and, "Do this?" RL: Well I think it could and maybe did. It's like yes and no. There's only two answers. There's a no or a yes and there's nothing in between. Now therefore you become very moralistic, moral, saying, "OK, that's wrong." But in the real world, there's a middle line there and you have to try to come to grips with that. Sometimes you can't stomach it. I mean sometimes it's either yes or no and that's it. I find that too many times people are not willing to say yes or no, they're willing to kind of muddy the water and go with a middle direction and that may not be the best way to do. And sometimes, and this I shouldn't probably say, but I say sometimes that affects our policies and the way we look at combat and the way we look at what's happening out there. SY: Was there ever a time when you said no? Was there ever a time you sort of refused an order? RL: Refuse an order? SY: Where you're like, "I don't think this is right." RL: No, I have found in life that you never -- if you're given an order and you're in a public place and that, don't ever say no, ever. The time to say no is after in private because I have learned that commanders do not want to be criticized in front of their troops or in front of a group. And they will cut you off at the knees. And I understand, some people didn't. You don't get in an argument if you're briefing and the commander is saying something that you may not agree with or is trying to correct you, you let them do it. Point being is you correct it after the briefing or whatever. And if he still does not accept your evaluation of such and such, then you let it go. Now to say that you always do what you're told to do, yeah you better watch out because if you're told to do by the commander and he comes back and checks and it's not done, you're going to lose your job. But if you're told to do something and find a better way to do it, that's a different story. So you have to think. It's not just those things, yes sir two bags full. It's the point is, "Yes sir," and think about, then how to get it done. If it's an impossible thing to do, and I ran across this when I was a battalion commander, and it was during a timeframe where we were faced with cuts in the budget and we weren't getting the right maintenance equipment and things like that. And my troops were living in World War II barracks where in the wintertime we had to almost wrap the whole building in cellophane 8 in order to keep the wind out and the cold out. And we had oil furnaces that sometimes went belly up. And in the summer time my troops were dragging their mattresses outside and sleeping in the street because it was so hot inside. And I had a confrontation with my brigade commander, support command commander. And I went into his office and told him I did not have to be motivated by his letter of reprimand. And he looked at me and he says, "Is that all?" And I said, "Yes sir." "You're dismissed." And I walked out. And these are World War II barracks and one of the clerks had called the other battalion commanders and they came running to the support command headquarters. And they said, "What did you do? Why did you do a dumb thing like that?" He says, "All of us have gotten these letters of reprimand," but this is the way the colonel commanded his troops with giving them letters of reprimand to light fires under them. Well I was not -- if somebody had told me this before, maybe I would've been a little mellow, but I wasn't. And I was just stubborn enough to go in and confront him. And I'm not encouraging people to do that, think it out, let it cool off before you do something. But from that day on, that commander and I had a great relationship. SY: He respected you? RL: He and I would sit down on a Saturday morning because we were working six days a week, sometimes seven days a week. And this isn't peace time now. And he would say, "OK." And with the problems that he knew were happening with the battalion, he would say, "OK." And then he would write notes to that battalion commander for maintenance or admin for people. He'd tell them I want so and so and so done. Or he'd look at me say, "That's your responsibility. You take care of it." And you damn well better take care of it because he was giving you support but you were responsible for all this, now you get it done. And when he left, years and years later, I was at Arlington National Cemetery visiting the grave of my mother-in-law. And my wife and I walked up the hill. This is just below where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is. And as I walked up and went onto the road, right across that street was a gravestone, a major general, who had been my support command commander. And I have done a composite book for all three of my children of my military record and in there I positively made this statement of this incident where he gave me a letter of reprimand. And what I said is that if I ever have to go to war, I want to go to war with this man because I knew that that was a man that I respected, that was a man that I knew he could do what he said he could do and he demanded that of his troops and he wouldn't take a "No." When he said, "Do it," you well knew it was to your benefit to do it. He had served three tours in Vietnam. He was highly decorated. He had been an enlisted man and then went to the prep school and then went to West Point. It was a guy I respected. SY: You trusted him. RL: Yeah. And you knew that he'd take care of you. But in order to survive in the battlefield, you had to learn and you had to do what he said because he had the experience. Now when you got the experience, you see, and then he would rely upon you to get the job done. But he'd tell you what to do and then it was up to you to do it. And how you did it, that was up to you.9 SY: Yeah, that's interesting. So let's rewind a little. So you finish up Norwich and you commission. And where do you go, what do you commission? RL: Well after I got my commission I went to -- because my eyes were not good enough for combat arms, I was commissioned in the transportation corps, but I had to serve three years in combat arms, that was the rule. So they sent me to Fort Benning. And I went to infantry officer basic course. I went to airborne school and then I went to ranger school. And if you ever need any stories about those schools, back in those days, I could tell you some that were -- again, it's one of those things where it is rough, but boy oh boy, you got to roll with the punches and you can have some good belly laughs out of it. SY: Well tell me one of them. RL: Well down in Florida during the jungle training, they kept you awake. They kept you on constant patrol, patrol, patrol. They wanted you to be exhausted, to see how you would react and how you could do it. Well we kept going out and out on patrols and we had a plan and usually we went out at night time, at night patrols. And I was the last guy in the patrol and I carried an M1 rifle. And we had these little florescent things attached to our cap where you can see the guy in front of you so you could follow him. And we were going through the swamps and there was a log there and I stepped over a log. And I took a step off the log and I went up to my waist in mud. And I looked around and there was nobody there. The guys had kept on going. They didn't know I was stuck in the mud. So here they are and you're not trying to shout or anything, but luckily the guy in front of me looked behind and didn't see me and sent the word up to halt for a minute. He came back and he had to pull me out of the mud or I would've been there to this day. And the fact is that we got through all this and we did all this and we were in the mountains one time and I had the automatic rifle slung across my neck and this is with the ammunition pouches and everything. We're walking up this mountain road and they said take a break. And I was on the left hand column, so I went off to the side of the road and just squatted to lean, I thought against a bank. Well there was no bank. And I went over head over heels down the side of this mountain and came up flat against a tree with my feet up in the air. And I wasn't hurt and I got myself out of that. So I called back up onto the road. Guys hauled me up. And we had a good chuckle about that. But it was stupid instances like that. They weren't funny to anybody else, but in our state of mind they were. And you never forget them. SY: Yeah, absolutely. So you do all of those different schools and then where's your first placement? RL: My first assignment was in Germany with the First of the Fifteenth Infantry Company B. That was the company that Audie Murphy served in during the Second World War. And as you know he was the most decorated of our military heroes. And at the time I arrived we were a straight infantry. We walked everywhere. We weren't mechanized. And while I was there, I was there a year and a half in Bamberg, Germany, and our mission was we would deploy to -- if the Russians came through the Fulda Gap to delay them as long as we could until the armor could move up to confront the enemy. So ours was the delaying action. Well while I was there, we became mechanized with armored personnel 10 carriers. But during that time we didn't have them, we would walk to training areas one way, either in the morning or walk back in the afternoon and be trucked out in the morning or be trucked back in the afternoon, one of them. But we walked one way because there was a gas shortage at that time. So periodically an infantry platoon was in our company was sent out to what they call a forward position, an infantry platoon plus an engineer platoon. And we had a cantonment area out there, barracks and all. And it was our job, we stayed in communication with the base, that if the balloon did go up and the Russians did come across then we had certain missions to protect the engineers in blowing bridges and et cetera, et cetera. And that's what our job was. And my job out there was to call unannounced alerts, usually early in the morning, and then the guys all had to jump, get dressed, and in the trucks, and gone out of the cantonment area to their designated positions. Now we did that for a year and a half and then because I was a transportation corps officer and had served my time in the combat arms, I was sent to Berlin, Germany. At that time it was a walled city. They were still building some of the wall. And it was isolated. There were four sections, French, British, American, and Soviet. And the Soviet section was walled in and you could only go -- usually you hear, "Checkpoint Charlie." Checkpoint Charlie was a real point in the wall with barbed wire and everything. Now I understand it's just like a block of concrete or something in the road. Well back then, it was real life. And I saw places where refugees had tried to climb the wall and had been terminated, had been killed. SY: So you saw their blood on the wall? RL: Well you knew where they were because the bodies had been taken away and we knew where they had tried to get across. But at that time I was a train commander and as a train commander I took the train from Berlin to Helmstedt which was in the western zone through the Russian zone. And we had to stop the train in Marienborn for a Soviet checkpoint. We wouldn't deal with East Germans. We didn't recognize the East Germans. We dealt with the Russians only. That was the politics of the time. And a Russian officer would be there. I had an interpreter and we would check every document for every person that was on the train. And sometimes you could tell when tensions were high the Russian officers would be really SOBs and when tensions were not high then they were more friendly. But there were always a couple of Russian officers who were SOBs regardless of what. However, I did that for a good year and at the same time I had a good buddy who had been in the infantry in one of the other battle groups in the same town, had been my roommate in Bamberg, Germany where we had been stationed, who reverted to the MP corps and came to Berlin and was riding the freight trains, the same route, everything else, but on a different track. But he was in charge of the MP detail that was on the freight trains. And I remember one time we got stopped in the middle of the Russian zone and I looked out my window of my passenger train and there was the freight train and there was my buddy. "How are you doing?" We put the window down, we'd chit chat before one of the trains moved on. He was going west and I was going east. But there were times like that and Berlin was -- SY: Were there any really high tension moments that you had?11 RL: Well yeah it was because you didn't know how they were going to react. I mean they could be real SOBs or they could be -- the thing is is that at that time you didn't want to take a chance of not following the rules. Berlin was the showcase of Western Europe. They had rebuilt it from the war and the contrast between West Berlin and the Soviet, it was like night and day. I was a staff officer for part of my time there and I had to take a Sedan and a driver and drive into the Russian sector just to show the flag. And sometimes I would get out to walk and I would take pictures of some -- Berlin before the war must've been a magnificent, beautiful city because I could tell you the architecture and everything else. And then the apartment buildings that the Russians had built looked about as drab and falling apart as you could ever believe. So that's why they had to put up the wall, that's why they had to stop the rupture of East Germans coming into the West. And cultural wise and everything else, the western zone -- guys, you couldn't have asked for anything more. And Kennedy came and paraded through West Berlin. I was there. I was there between like ten feet away, fifteen feet away, and believe it or not there was a Norwich graduate there, my class, name of Bob Francis who was in the signal corps. And I don't know if he was taking pictures for whatever, but he was there during the parade. I saw him and talked to him. Now when Kennedy lost his life, the Berliners, when he said ich bin ein Berliner and they just went crazy. They loved him. So when he died, they turned out every light in West Berlin. They turned out every light. There wasn't a light there and lit candles in their windows, put candles in their windows. SY: Do you remember where you were when you found out that Kennedy had been shot? RL: I was in Berlin, where exactly I can't remember. I just know that the effect it had on the Berliners and on the world was amazing. And the Berliners loved this man just from the standpoint of what he said that time and he had come. And the respect, the showing of respect by candles, putting them in the windows, and turning out all the other lights was amazing. No other president has been honored, I don't think, with such sincerity. People try to emulate, but unfortunately they fall far short. SY: Was there ever a moment when you were in Berlin or Germany in general where you were like, "This Cold War is about to get hot," where you thought, "Oh, it's going to start?" Did Dick tell me a story? Was it your story about a plane where if it took off, that was going to be a reaction? He said something about a plane. I don't know what I'm talking about. RL: That was Vietnam. SY: That was Vietnam. That was later. OK. RL: I keep hitting that. I can't remember because it was always there and you were always prepared. And so to say one point over another, I can't remember such. Now I did have a friend there who flew helicopters and I do remember flying over Hitler's bunker that was totally destroyed from the Second World War and there was just nothing but dirt, concrete, that had never been rebuilt. Little things like that I remember. I remember going to see the ballet, Swan Lake as a matter of fact. They brought all of these wonderful cultural things into Berlin to show people the difference between the two 12 countries or philosophies you might say. But to think about the tensions, yeah, but when we were told to make staff rides and to be in total communication with our headquarters because we never knew when our cars might be stopped and something might happen. But other than that, no. SY: Yeah, it was just a pervasive feeling? RL: It was a constant reminder and harassment to leave Berlin. To drive, it was going through checkpoints. And then you didn't know if you were going to get let back in and all of these things. But life goes on. SY: OK, so then you leave Berlin and where do you go next? RL: Well from Berlin I went to -- and let me relate something here too about Norwich. Back when I was a senior, Norwich had corporations come in to recruit and to interview you and that. Eastman Kodak came in and I was supposed to see them and I didn't. Eastman Kodak wrote me a letter and it said, "When you have your military obligation finished, let us know and we'll bring you to Rochester." So when I came back from overseas, there was a question there whether I would stay in the army or not. Not serious, but I wanted to explore all of my options. So I went to Rochester. They offered me a job and et cetera, et cetera, but I did stay in the military. SY: Why'd you decide to stay in? RL: Well maybe it was something I was used to, you felt comfortable in. You have a driving flame to be the general or something? No, I just felt comfortable in what I was doing. I liked what I was doing. And so I kind of just stuck with it. SY: And this is what? Now we're at '64? RL: Yes. SY: So Vietnam is just starting to get on people's radar. RL: The big buildup was '65, '66 when they started sending all the divisions over. And then of course '67, '68 being the Tet Offensive. So I was assigned out to Fort Lewis. And then I was only there a year and I was given orders to go to Fort Bragg to be trained as a Special Forces officer. So I reported into Fort Bragg and was trained. And the revolution in the Dominican Republic occurred. And the 82nd Airborne was deployed to the Dominican Republicans, so they sent a contingence of Special Forces down there, and I was one of those. My mission there was more -- as a detachment commander I was small team, modified team, intelligence gathering upcountry on the island. And then I came back after that and was the S4 for the unit. SY: So this is the revolution and opposition to Trujillo? RL: Trujillo had been assassinated. And the communist were trying to take over the country. And luckily the Dominicans were -- and the 82nd Airborne -- the US was asked to come 13 in and help. And they contained the uprising in the inner city of Santo Domingo, the inner city. And they barb wired it. They had literally barb wire all around the old city and kept the communist in there. Now there were some in the country, in other places and towns, but the Dominican Republic was set up as -- the police force was almost as strong as the army because every police force had a fort in every town. And they had their own weapons, et cetera, et cetera. And the police force was pretty brutal if there was any question at all. Like I was on jump status down there on the island and we used to jump over sugar cane fields. And nine out of ten times -- for practice and to keep proficient -- the police force or the military had brought in who they thought were rebels and popped them, dumped bodies in there. So you found those things. So there was a certain amount of strong armed tactics that the Dominicans were imposing against their own people. But these people were looked upon as Communists and were trying to take over the country. SY: So how did you react to that, finding those bodies in the fields? RL: I walked away. I wasn't going to bury them and I kind of took a pragmatic look at it. I said, "You know what, there is nothing I can do about it. These guys are dead. The diplomats are down here trying to effect an election where the people will elect a Democratic president. We're doing the best job that we can to provide a stable atmosphere for this to take place." And other than that -- and I was upcountry, as I say, intelligent gathering. And I will say that the country was pretty quiet. We had a few times where intelligence was -- radioed back. But the people on a whole were wonderful, hardworking people. And when I was the S4 of the unit, I went down to the quartermaster where our food depot was and that. And believe it or not, the doctors would condemn food, the package was open or something. It wasn't good enough for US soldier consumption. And there were no, what I call, rat turds in it or anything else, but it was just sitting there or a can was dented or something. I would police up all these food stuffs and with approval, the doctors said, "No that's OK but we can't serve this to the troops because of the rules." So I gather this up and we had other outposts in the country. And then I would fly up in a helicopter and give the food out to the people. I felt that was something because they were very, very poor. Let me tell you, the country at that time was -- SY: Oh I've spent time there. It still is. RL: I mean trash and everything, you couldn't believe it. Now it's a resort area though. SY: Except where it's not. RL: I'm sorry, but my personal opinion is that there are some places in the world that never improve. Why is it that the -- again, it's the old power grab. Those that have, have and those that don't -- unfortunately. We try to change that in so many places in the world and we've always done the right thing, for the most part, but it's a very tough, tough thing to do. And they can only help themselves. 14 SY: So that's an intense period of time in the DR. And then you come back and then they're like, "Oh, since you had that nice, intense experience, we're going to send you somewhere easy. How about you go to Vietnam?" I'm kidding obviously. RL: That's right. No, no, I went to school at Fort Eustis, had a job there for six months in the educational department doing reviewing training and things like that. And then I went off to Vietnam. On the way over I took a delay in route and visited Japan, Okinawa, and Taiwan because I had gone to school with a couple of Chinese officers who were stationed on Taiwan. I visited with them before I went to Vietnam. SY: Did you have any idea what you were getting into? RL: No, because I didn't know where I was going to be assigned at the time and when I arrived there at Tan Son Nhat Airport, we were getting rocketed and we lived in tents until they made our assignments. And I was assigned as a transportation corps officer to the fourth transportation command, which was working pier operations and that in Saigon. And I was a pier operations officer for part of my tour there. And this was before Tet Offensive. And we had barge sights that were out of town and I used to go by myself with a 45 strapped to my hip and drive like hell. [We went either by the River in a boat or drove to each barge site.] But at that time, we didn't realize how the VC had infiltrated the area and how serious the problem was. I was extremely lucky. I always thought in my career that I had a guardian angel watching over me because there were so many times where it could've gone the other way. And I remember this, just the night before -- actually the night that I was out and did something, which I won't say right here, it was all job related. I was out there alone in the delta and I came back and that morning was when the VCs struck. And when somebody from Cholon, which was the Chinese sector, some of the officers were going out to the headquarters and got ambushed, shot up, they never made it. And all hell broke loose. And I remember that the VC drove the people on the outlining communities into the city. I remember outside the port area, the one street was just -- one night -- was just crammed with refugees just streaming into the city trying to get away from the fighting. And there were a lot of other incidents where we had ships that were sitting out trying to get up the Saigon River to offload and they'd be spending days and days out there because the port was just jammed with ships and we were trying to offload the equipment and everything and we couldn't get them all up. And some of these ships were commercial ships with cargo holes. And they were rocketed and there were gaping holes in the sides and in the upper structure and things like that because they had to travel up through the delta, in a winding river which wasn't very wide to get to Saigon. And those guys, the bad guys, were out there. And we did our job. And I had a very good friend who was a helicopter pilot. And I remember we had to go to Vung Tau one time and we were in a Huey and we had a number of technicians with us and things like that. And we were flying along the delta and we were skimming the delta. We weren't flying high. We were just skimming. And all of the sudden I just hear this whomp, whomp, whomp, whomp and all of the sudden my buddy in the pilot chair, the whole chopper, he was trying to lift it, almost physically lift that chopper to get altitude because we were under fire. And this guy I have a great admiration for. He's been a friend for a good, long time -- got us out of the situation. We 15 got above it all and flew on to Vung Tau. And we got out. We looked and we were just lucky. Again, it's a matter of time, where you are, and sometimes just plain luck. SY: Right place, right time. Wrong place, wrong time. Did you have any -- I know some people had sort of superstitious good luck charms or things they did to -- were there things in Vietnam that you did to just kind of keep yourself safe in your own mind. RL: Nope. I just kind of -- I tell you quite frankly, I remember the presidential palace, right across the street from my billet. I mean the VC were so close into the city and Saigon was a beautiful town. Well let me say this, Tudor Street which was all tree lined, but during war time a lot of bars and bar girls and all that. But a beautiful town, some really fine French restaurants, but when they say Pearl of the Orient, it was prior to this time. I would say after the war, World War II because I don't think there was much damage there during World War II. But it must've been a beautiful country. SY: So when you were in Vietnam, a lot of people, it was an existential crisis for them. It brought on a lot of doubts about why they were there, what they were doing, the nature of war itself. Was that your experience or did you -- RL: I think that you could dwell on that if you wanted to. But I also think it's in the situation which you're placed in. If you're under a great deal of stress, if you're under fire, if your life is -- it might be snuffed out in a minute's notice, that you start to think about it more and say, "Why the heck am I here, God protect me. Let me just get out of this." And it so shocks your system that that images, they keep reoccurring. It's like your memory buds have been lit up and those things keep coming back in flashes. So I think it's all based upon the situation and where you are and what you're doing. SY: It sounds like you weren't in combat directly. RL: I wasn't directly in combat. I could've been shot because of snipers or anything else. But did I have a rifle in my hand and going out into the jungle, no I did not. My job was to ensure that cargo got lifted off of these ships onto barges or any place else and was delivered to the troops. And I did that. When I got promoted to major, then I was, due to a recommendation by one of my instructors at the transportation school, they recommended me for a staff position. And so they moved me -- still in the Saigon port, but I was at a staff position while I was there, the rest of the time I was there. I was there thirteen months. I was given a special project to do and I told the command that I would stay there until it was finished. So rather than twelve months, I spent thirteen months. SY: Do you remember the first day you arrived and the day you left? RL: I remember the first day I arrived. SY: What was your impression? RL: It was hot, steamy hot. We had a tent city. And there were hundreds of troops in a cantonment area at Tan Son Nhat Airforce Base. Planes coming and going. And I wasn't there very long. And then I was assigned to a unit in Saigon where I was working nights. 16 So I would sleep in daytime. So I do remember the arrival and coming off the plane. But going home, I'd have a hard time. SY: You weren't counting down your days? Well no, because you had that special project, so it wasn't like you were sure. RL: Well I knew I was going to stay. I mean I just knew it. I knew that I was going to do this and that was it. It's hard to -- SY: Was it hard to adjust to coming back home after being in Vietnam? RL: I came back. I was stationed at Fort Monroe. And I worked for the training command there. And I was responsible for the training budget of all the service schools around the United States, to include the aviation schools at Fort Wolters, Rucker, all this. And I remember I worked for a guy named General Pepke and his deputy was a General Andrews. Pepke was a two star at that time and Andrews was a one star. And I had a very responsible position because at that time, believe it or not, in the early '70s, they were downsizing to get out of Vietnam and the school budgets were being cut. And I remember the DA staff called me about the aviation budget for our aviation schools. And I worked with two colonels, lieutenant colonels, who became general officers and trying to save the aviation budget from being cut to the bone. And I remember I worked on a lot of projects and was flying back and forth between Fort Monroe and Washington to work with these officers and try to save as much as we could. And that was I think a turning point probably in my career because I had not been selected for the Commander and General Staff College yet, I was a major. Now Commander and General Staff School is very important to you. I hadn't been selected yet. So there was an opportunity there and I was already working on my master's degree, going to night school. Now I was working constantly with a high pressure job and I was going to school for my master's degree with George Washington and I was doing commander general staff work with the reserve unit at Fort Eustis which was about 20 miles away. SY: You were a busy guy. RL: So I was going to school for four nights a week plus weekends working plus doing my job plus doing the papers and studying and doing all the things you have to do. So I was out and that's why I say to people don't ever get discouraged, don't let people tell you that you're not going to make it or you're not going to do something. You have to keep plugging away and rely upon yourself to be good enough to do it. So I have to say that I wasn't married at the time, so your social life goes to hell in a handbasket. See, you have to set your priorities. And there's another thing that Norwich is going to help you do is set priorities and know what's important and what's not important in life because you have to look down the pike. Think outside the box and then see what it's going to be like ten -- 15 -- 20 years from now. So if you want a career, you got to work for it. And they're not going to hand it to you. You go out and get it. You prove your point to them. So all this happened and I finished up my Commander and General Staff stuff, I got my master's degree, and they shipped me to Korea.17 SY: Now at this point you must be tired. RL: Well I'm going to tell you right now, the thing is that you learn something from your education, from Norwich, which is to press on. It's the old thing as can do, I will try, whatever. Can do was my infantry, first of the fifteenth, can do outfit, Norwich was I will try. And those things drive you, especially if you have fire in your belly and you want to go someplace. And you're not satisfied with just sitting on your butt and hoping that it's going to happen. So I go to Korea and I work for 8th Army HQ in Seoul and I'm a logistical staff officer and out of the blue the general calls me in and said, "Oh by the way you're going to continue as a logistical staff officer, but you're now the missile maintenance officer for Korea." That's an ordinance job and the ordinance officer had just gone home and they didn't have anybody. So now I'm responsible and the problem they had with the Hawk missile program which is a Raytheon product was they were getting about 40% reliability. And DA was holy hell on the command. So I had to do something about that. Well let me put it this way, it's a twelve month tour in Korea. And my assignment officer, the big assignment officer from DA, came over and he says, "Hey, yeah Lotz, you're going to the armed forces staff college." So I said, "Hey look, I've been to Leavenworth." He says, "You're going to the joint school, the armed forces staff college, in Norfolk." And I said, "Well when's this going to happen." He said, "Your next class is six or seven to eight months out," after I come back. I said, "What will I be doing?" He said, "You'll snowbird." Well snowbird is that you go there and you do whatever the school tells you to do. And I told him, I said, "No, I don't want to do that." I stayed in Korea 18 months. I worked on the job I did and when I did that, the reliability of the Hawk missile was at 94%. I had done a whole refurbishment program on the other missiles that we had in budget, I had set up budgets for refurbishment, did all of that, and so I came out of Korea with what they call is a dual job efficiency report because I did two jobs in one. And then I went to the armed forces staff college. SY: There you go. And then you get married. RL: No, not yet. I got to school. I went through school. I was assigned to the military personnel center where I was given a job as the lead on women in the army. I used to brief the DA staff. I used to go over there with all the statistics because we were trying to create a model that would determine the grade and MOS and how to bring them in without having big bubbles and all of that, et cetera, et cetera. And I used to go over with these big, in those days, printouts like this and I used to brief the DA staff. And I used to bring these printouts to them and I'd say generals if you don't believe what I'm saying, you can read it. And I drop it on the floor and they'd all laugh. We're talking about two or three stars and they all laugh because they know they aren't going to do that thing. So they were listening to what I was saying, it's the how we were trying to work this. And I wasn't trying to be smart. I was just trying to lighten the load, just be a little levity there. And I was recommended for the Pace Award because of that and I was given a special award. And I met my wife in Washington. My wife, I was trying to get a date with her and she was busy or I was busy. One time I just got fed up and said, "Are you free Friday night? Can we go out?" And she finally said yes. And so her father was a retired colonel infantry which she never let me forget. And we went out to dinner and dancing down in Washington. And I said to her that night, I said, "I think I'm going to marry 18 you." She said she'd never marry a military guy. And she says, "I think you're right." I've been married ever since, the same woman, very happily married. SY: That's a lovely story. So we've been talking for like about an hour and fifteen minutes. RL: And you want to know something? You got more than you need. SY: And I think you probably want to -- I don't want to take up your whole day. RL: No, and I got to get going. SY: Yeah, exactly. So any last thoughts? This was great. Let me -- RL: It's too much, I know. But I'm telling you stories. SY: No, no, you're telling me stories. This is all really important. RL: We haven't gotten to the point where I got to be a battalion commander about this guy, Pendleton, who used to be -- I'll tell you that a different time. But that's the leadership team. There's what you face as a battalion commander. There is where you have distress and strain of seven days a week, 24 hours a day and have to take care of the troops. SY: So when we have more time, we'll really go into that. I'll put a pin in this. So let's pick. So when we talked on the phone yesterday, you were talking about how you think that in terms of remembering war there's this unfair hierarchy where combat stories are valued more highly than other stories. So do you want to speak to that? RL: It's the perception that people have that when you mention warfare, they think of combat because that's what it's all about. You wouldn't have a war unless somebody was fighting. So we focus on those people who are in combat because they're the ones nine out of ten times who get wounded or there's fatalities and things like that. But we forget about those who support the combat troops, the combat service support troops, and things like that, that there's a huge number of people behind supplying and taking care of, the medical people and the supply people and the transportation people and all these people that are supporting the combat role. Even the artillery people, the combat service support, it's a team and we can't forget that there's a large team behind the combat lines that are supporting those in the trenches. SY: And also I'm sure that in Vietnam even though you were behind the lines, you still were in danger all the time I would imagine. RL: Well you were because the way the war was there, you didn't know who your enemy was because the enemy melded in with the populace. And the snipers and the ambushes and things like that that could happen at any time. So you always had to be prepared. The convoys had to be prepared even in the city sometimes, especially during the Tet Offensive in '68, the Tet Offensive. A lieutenant working with us was ambushed and was killed. So it could happen at any time. And there was no front lines in the First World19 War. It was a trench. And you knew those bad guys were on that side and you were on the other side. It's a different war out there during my service. SY: Yeah. What was it like to live with that constant anxiety and confusion? You were there for a long time? RL: Well yeah, but the thing is is that you didn't dwell on it because if you dwelt on it, then you were afraid all the time and you couldn't get your job done and you couldn't function. So you put it out of your mind. It's one of those things that when you're put under stress, you look to God to say, "Make sure I get through this." SY: Were there ever moments when it broke through and felt that fear, like I don't know, going to bed at night or waking up in the morning or things like that? RL: Only from the standpoint of anxiety you might say. There were times -- the night before the Tet Offensive, I had to go to a barge site and I went alone and I had to go through the city across the bridge outside the city. And the Vietnamese troops were guarding the bridge and so I pulled up in my Jeep and they looked at me and I said, "I got to go to the barge site," which was a couple miles away. You had to go through this little village and all. And they looked like as if I was nuts. But I went and this was about one o'clock in the morning. And I went through the village down to the barge site, checked it out, the operation and everything, and came back and at dawn that same day the next vehicle that came into that village was ambushed. Well there for the grace of God, go I. So there's no way of telling what's going to happen at times. And so the anxiety level is there but you can't dwell on it and you do your job. SY: Does your training keep you from dwelling on it? RL: I think so, yeah, if you know what you're doing. It definitely is a big plus. If you didn't know what you were doing, your anxiety level would really be high because then you would be looking in the shadows. It's not that you're not conscious of what's going on around you because your training develops that instinct to look at certain things and evaluate certain -- and quickly and whether it's safe or not safe. So from that standpoint, yeah your training is a key factor into how you react and how you look at things. It tells you when to go and not to go at times. So it can be a life saver. SY: So I interviewed a guy just last month or a couple weeks ago and he was also an officer. He was also a logistics guy behind the scenes, but it was in Iraq and as we know there's no real distinction between combat and noncombat anymore. And he was describing when he came back, it took him a while to realize that he had some of the signs of PTSD. He needed the quick fix. He had the hypervigilance. He was seeking out thrills and things like that. And I'm wondering if -- it was talked about less in Vietnam, especially if you'd come back and function, it wasn't talked about at all. But did you when you came back experience trouble adjusting back into a civilian -- not civilian because you're still in but? RL: Well I think maybe I had a sense of -- I was self-sufficient you might say. I could handle my emotions. I could -- so I'm self-sufficient you might say, not a loner, but able to cope 20 you might say better than others. And because of my background, because of how I was brought up, because of everything, that all contributes to how you adapt and can assimilate all that happens to you in a combat zone when you come back and try to come back into the community. The associations you have with your family, the associations you have with people, how you view the world and everything else, all of that's a factor in what affects you up here in your head. SY: Claire, can you tell them to be quiet nicely? F2: Sure. RL: See that all affects how you look on life. And so from that standpoint I would say that I didn't come back with a lot of anxiety, I came back to a world that was safe, the world that hadn't been effected by war, a world that I didn't have to watch out. SY: Was it strange to like sleep in a nice comfortable and to eat delicious food? RL: No. SY: It just was easy? RL: It was easy. I assimilated right back in. But I tell you, that's based on attitude too. And you got to realize this, you don't always sleep on the floor. You don't always sleep and live out of a rucksack. There were cantonment areas and things like that. In Vietnam it was like they were trying, because the war wasn't popular, is they tried to bring all the comforts of home to Vietnam. So for the combat troops when they weren't out in the field, they could come back to a cantonment area with all -- good food, rest, relaxation, et cetera, et cetera. And they also had the R&R where they could go over to Australia or to Japan or wherever and Thailand. So there were certain things and they tried in Vietnam to try to keep guys in combat maybe six months and then six months in a rural area. So there's all different aspects that you have to consider when you look how a person's going to react when he comes back. SY: Are there any, I don't know -- when you think about Vietnam, I don't know how often you think about it now. Are there smells, images, feelings that you remember, anything that sticks with you? One guy, I read his memoir, he talked about the smell because they were burning poop where he was living. RL: That was up at a cantonment area. We had the outside latrines and all that and they had to do it to get rid of it. A lot of times in the Orient you'll find they'd throw it on their fields, in the rice, and all that. They use it for fertilizing. Well the Germans did too and animal manure was – used as fertilizer. SY: Welcome to Vermont spring. RL: Well you had the old honey wagon. So in Germany they used to pour it onto the fields. And that's why you had to be careful of what you ate and things like that, especially in the Orient. What I remember about Vietnam, the food, not the American but I mean the 21 Vietnamese food. I do remember the time where there was during the Tet Offensive a lot of rocket attacks right across the street from where I was staying and the presidential palace wasn't too far, like two blocks away. The thing was that the rocket attacks would come in and then I remember one morning they heavily rocketed that area and the concussions and the noise you hit the floor, and then I ran outside because right across the street there was a Vietnamese family and a rocket had hit the house. And so this other fellow and I ran inside, up the rubble, actually the rubble, and got into the front entrance because the family had children. And we found the family, luckily nobody was hurt. They were underneath the stairs and they had been saved because they had taken shelter underneath the stairs where that closet or whatever it was saved them. And we hauled them out. I remember that. I remember working in the Saigon port and on the Saigon River. I remember that little incidence where we took ground fire. I remember little things like that. SY: Yeah, I bet the food was amazing. RL: The food was. I thought the food -- Oriental food can be quite good. When I was stationed in Korea I used to eat on the economy all the time. And you'd sit on a pillow and fold your legs and a lot of times they had a grill in front of you and things like that. I liked Korean beer. SY: Korean beer is good. I like Korean barbeque too. So we haven't gotten talk about you being -- you were a brigade commander right? RL: I was a brigade commander. SY: How many people were in your brigade? RL: It was thousands. I was a commander of the school brigade which had all the troops and students for the transportation school at Fort Eustis. SY: And the story you were telling of when you were staying in the World War II barracks and you had that -- RL: I was a battalion commander at Fort Bragg. SY: That was Fort Bragg? RL: That was Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I was commander of the seventh transportation battalion, had a long military history in that battalion. We had the only airborne car company still left in the United States army and that was left over from World War II. And the commander was a captain and he was on jump status because of the airborne car company, that was the connotation of it. And they were used -- that's why I say it's leftover from the Second World War. They also had an air delivery company, quartermaster company, where it was commanded by a major. And they did rigging for heavy drops, meaning vehicles, supplies, everything, and rigging the parachutes, and things like that. And because I had airborne troops in my battalion, my job also my slot was designated as an airborne slot. So at 44 I was still jumping out of airplanes.22 SY: Woah, so how'd your wife feel about that? RL: I had been married two years, three years at that time. And her father had been a 30 year veteran in the infantry, had been in the Second World War and that. And it's part of the job. SY: You were meeting a lot of people. So did you have any leadership challenges? How do you think you did as a leader? Were you the right mixture of approachable and intimidating? Did you think about that? RL: Well I guess if I had to self-evaluate, I was both because my commander expected -- he expected his commanders to be combat ready all the time and to be efficient and to get the job done regardless of the obstacles. There was a certain amount of pressure. Which therefore, you had to -- like they say, it rolls downhill. Now you had to say that at this time we had a volunteer army. Yeah, we were in a volunteer army. We had kids from all over the country. And we had to appeal to their sense of duty because that wasn't an eight to five job. I don't know where they ever got this idea. And the accommodations they lived in were not pleasant. They were the bunks and the World War II barracks, one latrine at the end. And the barracks were not in very good shape because that was the time of the Carter timeframe and they were cutting back on the forces. The money wasn't there. It wasn't being appropriated for repair parts or anything else so your vehicles were down a lot of time. You had to spend long hours to try to maintain and keep them going. And maintenance was one of the biggest problems with keeping the vehicles going, trying to make sure that the troops were taken care, and weren't put in such a state where they couldn't function. And we just did so many different things within the battalion because not only did I have truck company, I had Jeeps, I had an air delivery company, I had a Stevedore company that lifted the boxes and all that. So we had a challenge because we were multifunction, not just one focus. And we supported the 82nd airborne. And the 82nd airborne was -- they had three brigades. One brigade would be in the field and we had to support them. One brigade would be in garrison and we had to support them. And one brigade would be I'd say down, not deployable, they were resting after doing these other two. Well we had to support on a 24 hour, seven day basis, those two other brigades. We never had any down time. And that's why the vehicles had problems because we were running them all the time. And so it got to be a challenge, a real big challenge. But I was extremely proud of my battalion I encouraged my troops to be competitors. Fort Bragg there was very competitive with the 82nd airborne, the other troops there. They had boxing matches. We had combat football. We had air delivery competitions with the 82nd because they had their own air delivery unit. And I would say that my boxers, I reestablished and let some of my troops box, started taking championships. We beat the 82nd airborne in combat football, never been done before even though my commander who was a major at the time and was captain of our combat football team broke his collar bone. And it wasn't too long after that that they outlawed combat football because there were too many injuries. But the fact here is here was a support element, a transportation battalion, that went up against the combat troops, the 82nd airborne, and beat them in combat football, biggest thing. I was real proud of my troops. I had the championship women's basketball team at Fort Bragg. So esprit de corps is a very important thing and you got to give them a sense of accomplishment, not 23 only on the job but also in these other areas. So you try to encourage that. It's a difficult thing. It's a balancing act. It's like you have to keep all the balls up in the air at the same time and you have to learn how to do that. And it's not an easy thing. SY: Interesting. So I have two more questions for you and then Clark has some Norwich questions for you. But I also know time is an issue. My buddy Dick [Shultz?] told me a story. He discovered halfway through that I was Jewish. And then it was all over. He talked about -- he says you have some story about an airplane, it was in Vietnam, almost taking off or something, a Cold War story about if this airplane takes off, we're with war with Russia. I don't know, he remembered something. You don't know what he's talking about or you do? And you watched the plane hover and then it went down again. Maybe this wasn't Vietnam. Maybe this was Korea. I don't know. RL: I don't know. I was in South America one time and I was in special ops. I was Special Forces then. And one of the planes, it was a C123, which was an old prop driven. I mean you never see those today. And it was special ops. And the pilots, we were contour flying. Contour flying means you're right on the deck, bounding up and down because of the air drafts and everything else, and I remember this vividly. I was up with the pilots and these two guys -- you got to remember, air force guys I think are a little bit different than army guys. And they have to be for what they do. And these two pilots were up there just chatting away. I mean it was like they're having a cup of coffee down in the wherever and they were just chatting back and forth and this thing was bouncing up and down, up and down, and all across wise. And they were just having the grandest time. And you got to realize that it takes a special breed to do this. And it's the joy. I mean, I was a young guy and I just had the greatest time because -- and you have to have the competence though. And that's where you were talking about the training and everything else is so important. It's that these guys were able to do this, almost with their eyes closed. But the fact is, it was dangerous, what we were doing. And the helicopter I told you about being shot at and the pilot, as I say, I make light of it. But the fact was, we were taking ground fire and very well that chopper could've gone right there into the patties except for the pilot, again who I knew personally and had great confidence, and just pulled back on the pitch. And that thing, we didn't know if it was going to make it up or not because the rounds were hitting and if they'd hit the wrong part, we were done for. But this guy was just cool as hell, pardon the expression. He was. And that chopper, the vibration, it was just straining to get up over 1,000 feet where we get out of range of the ground fire. There were other things, but -- which one? There was a couple other things. But it was fun because you're young and you think you're invincible. And like you were talking about, how do you feel about -- some of these things you don't think about because you put it right out of your mind. And sometimes you put it out of your mind for a purpose. SY: Training plus testosterone. RL: And you just don't think about it after that too. Some of the things are so emotional that you don't. You put them out of your mind and you don't go back. That's just the way of life.24 SY: So one last question, people talk a lot about the military civilian divide. And you said that they're two different cultures. So you were in the military a long time and then you're retired. And so how do you interact with the civilian world? Do you feel different than the people around you who are civilians? Do you mostly spend time in military circles still? RL: No, when I left the service I never looked behind. And I went 180 degrees, gone the other way. SY: All right, what did you do? RL: I established my own business out of a hobby. I worked with antique clocks, 1700 and 1800. And I found that in order for me to establish a business, I had to go do these high end antique shows. And so I started doing high end antique shows, maybe was doing 15 or 16 a year -- I had a studio built off the back of my house. Business was by appointment only. And I had between 45 and 50 tall case clocks plus all these other clocks and things like that. And I'm down to about two shows a year now. And I used to be driving 40,000 miles a year to do the shows. But it gave me the latitude to be my own boss. It gave me the latitude to where if I didn't want to work seven days a week, 24 hours a day, I didn't have to because I had a young family. And I just didn't want to go back into the pressure cooker. The pressure cooker is what I call, even in my final days -- I had great jobs, one of them where I was the DCS for air transportation in the military airlift command, which is now melded into the transportation command at Scott Airforce Base. I was responsible for all the aerial reports and cargo and passengers all over the world. I had people all over the world. And so one time I left from Scott Airforce Base to the west coast to Hawaii, to Japan, to Korea, to Okinawa, to the Philippines, to Diego Garcia, to Turkey, to Germany, to Spain, to England, and home. So I only say that because I'm giving you the perspective that you can do anything in your military career. It depends on the field you're in. And one time I worked for the comptroller of the army as one of his executive assistants and was also congressional liaison for the appropriation committee with Congress. I worked with the Senate and the House of Representations when I was stationed in Washington. So what I'm trying to say is that a military career is not just one thing. I've had a varied career from combat arms to comptrollership to transportation to a multitude of other things, Special Forces and that. SY: But then you didn't want to go back. You wanted a job that wasn't that intense? RL: Well it was the fact is that that was me. Everybody's different and it was me. And I've been involved with Norwich since I was a class agent. And let me just tell you what I did because this is what I say to the Norwich grad is to keep active. I was a class agent for a while, then I was president of the alumni club in Washington DC. Then I went to the alumni board. Then I was president of the alumni association. Then I went to the board of trustees. Then I went to the Board of Fellows. Then I was chairman of the Board of Fellows. And then I had been a contributor with the Partridge Society and all of that. And I worked with the Colby Symposium for 20 years. And today they just appointed me as chair of the Friends of the Colby, the military author's symposium.25 SY: Cool, congratulations. Do you feel like Norwich -- it clearly prepared you for a military career. Do you think it also prepared you for your civilian career? RL: Sure. SY: How so? RL: I think that Norwich gave me an attitude. You know, it's an attitude and it's a level of confidence. Norwich University was the perfect match for me because it gave me the opportunity for leadership positions. I was the cadre every year I was here. And second it did, it gave me a great opportunity to meet combat vets because of the PMSNT and the cadre officers and that and to associate with some really find people. Thirdly, I met some great professors. Loring Hart was my English teacher. And I wrote an article for the Guidon one time and he wrote me a little note. He said, "Well done, you learned something." Little things like that that were feedback from the administration. Ernie Harmon who was the president at the time, I had met maybe four or five times. And when I was given an award or my diploma and the only other time I met him was when he chewed me out one time really bad when I was a corporal of the guard, and I mean really bad. SY: What did you do? RL: He drove up and parked his Cadillac and was going up to his office and I was the corporal of the guard. We were ready to take the flag down or something. And I didn't see him. But I didn't call the guard to attention or anything. And he just came over and chewed me out for not calling to attention and saluting him. And I said, "Yes sir." And the other time I met him was the time he called me into his office. And here's a good story for you. He called me in. He says, "I got a letter from your parents. They're concerned because you weren't accepted into advanced ROTC," because I failed the medical because of my eyes. And he says, "Do you want to be in advanced ROTC?" And I said, "Yes sir." He said, "Well this is what we're going to do." He told me exactly what he was going to do. He was going to get me my eye reexamined at Fort Ethan Allen and that the transportation would be provided for me and to report at such and such a time. And that was it, bang, gone. I went up to Fort Ethan Allen, went to the doctor there, doctor came from my home town. And he says, "What's the problem?" He says, "Well you got to be kidding me." He says, "During the Second World War with guys that were absolutely blind were in the infantry and they gave them two or three pairs of glasses in case they broke one and they sent them off into combat." So he reexamined me and passed me and that's why I had a 30 year career in the army. And I spent a lot of time, when they said I couldn't be in the combat arms, I spent a lot of time in the combat arms. So I tell these cadets don't give up and the fact is you can be anything that you want to be, you just work for it. SY: Now, Clark you had a question. It was about this canoeing trip right? CLARK HAYWOOD: (inaudible) [01:41:05] that you got to, as I would say, as a young guy, you got to hang out with Homer Dodge. So what was Homer Dodge like?26 RL: Wonderful guy, just a wonderful -- and he had to be in his 90s. All right, I was stationed in Washington DC at the time and I was working in the Pentagon. And I was elected president of the alumni club in Washington. And so my wife and I, we looked at what we could do to be interesting for the group, to bring him in. So I contact Dr. Dodge and asked him if I went down and picked him up -- now he was down in Pawtucket and Camorra, Cremini or something plantation. He had a beautiful home right on the Pawtuxet River, old, old home. And I said if we come down and pick you up and bring you up for the meeting and then take you home. Well that was like two hours down, two hours back. Anyway, he agreed to that. So my wife and I went down and he addressed the group. And by the time it was all finished, we got home at like one or two o'clock in the morning after driving him home. And he invited us to come back and spend the day with him. So we did. Now he was a canoeist. If you read his bio and that, he was a pretty serious canoeist. And at the age that he was, he was still canoeing. I couldn't believe it. And he had it all upstairs. He hadn't lost a bit. He had not lost a bit physically and everything else. And his stature, he wasn't a very tall guy, but he says, "Come on." He says, "I want to go in the marshlands along the river here and we'll go canoeing." So my wife and I got the canoe out and all three of us got in and he paddled us around and showed us all this marshland and things like that. And we just had a great time. And we had lunch together down there. And so that's how my connection with another president, he was president from 1944 to 1950, and then Ernie Harmon came in. And then Barksdale Hamlett I think came in after Ernie. And I knew him. And then it was Loring Hart. And then it was Russ Todd. Then it became Rich Schneider. I knew every one of these guys. I worked with them because of my association with the school. SY: So what about -- you've seen Norwich change a lot over the years. And how do you feel about the changes? Your alumni are sometimes very pro and very anti, it's interesting. RL: Well you have to realize that our society has changed. And when females came into the corps, well that was a big thing. Well at the same time I was working in Washington. And as I told you, women in the army, that's what I worked on. SY: So you did work on that? You worked on making that happen. RL: Yeah. I was briefing the generals. Remember I talked about those reports and I used to throw them on the floor to laugh because this was all the statistics they were providing because we were trying to integrate women into the army in certain MOSs by grade and MOS so there weren't any big bubbles, you see, because for promotion and everything else. And so this was a big thing that the Pentagon was concerned about. And they were getting a lot of court action, litigation. So we were an important part of the personnel system to make all this happen in a logical way. And that was where my commander because of the group I was leading gave me a special award and also recommended me for the Pace Award which was a very prestigious thing. I didn't get it, but the point is that he thought enough of me to recommend me for it. And that's what counts in life is that at least you get recommended for some of these things. But seeing that in the corps, so that didn't bother me at all because I had women in my battalion. And they were some of my best officers and best NCOs. Now I will say we did have some problems with women in the army and that was with -- and the only thing I want to mention here is lesbianism. 27 We did have issues of that. And that's changed too. You got to know what the period of the time was and the problems that we were confronted with which we hadn't confronted before. So they were new to us. So in order to be concerned about protecting troops and everything else, you had to reorient yourself. And that's the most important thing. The issue why I say that is to be able to be flexible enough to adapt to a new change and to be behind it and to understand it and support it. Now if you don't -- there were times where I don't agree with everything that happens at Norwich but at the same time I understand this is a big operation here. It's grown so much that the opportunities for these cadets -- they're busy all the time. All the opportunities are so much greater than what we had when I was going to school. And the other thing is that you've got civilians here too. And those are all different problems that you have to work through so there's no favoritism towards one body or towards the other. And that's why I say with a Colby symposium is that we have to incorporate the civilians as well as the military. So the subjects have to be such as that they relate to both sides. And therefore they interconnect and therefore what we're trying to do is enrich the student's experience. And what I say is think outside the box. You can't be just focused with blinders on. If you do that then you're missing a lot. And you're missing a lot in life too. SY: That might be a good note to end on. Clark, any other questions? CH: Yeah, do you have any anecdotes of any of the presidents that you worked with at all, just funny or anything serious that you learned, like insights from the past? RL: Well Ernie Harmon was -- he'd watch you from his window as you walked your tours and all that. He was gruff. He was fair. And I didn't have a lot of contact with him. The awards, the diploma, and when it was necessary. Other than that, you didn't want to have any experience with him from that standpoint because it might be negative. That's what you didn't want because Ernie, he was a tough guy, but he was fair. SY: Any interactions with his wife? RL: No, none. None whatsoever. SY: I'm reading her autobiography right now. RL: You're a cadet and you're talking in the 1950s. And we're isolated then because we didn't have '89 up here. And that's what I think -- that's what made our class just hang together, the comradery and the fraternities and everything else. And that's why I think even today with our class, we hang together. Maybe it's other classes. It just happens that maybe I'm looking at just my class, but then you went from there to Hamlett who was a gentleman. He only was here for a little while. I think he got sick or had cancer or something and left. So it was limited experience there. But then Loring Hart came in. Now he was my English professor. And I have to say that Loring Hart drew me back into Norwich, he did, because I was in the alumni club, but he says you got to come back to Norwich. And he used to stay with me when I was the president. He used to stay in our home, he and his wife Marylyn. And she was a delightful person. SY: I'm trying to track her down.28 RL: I think she died. She's passed away. Either that or she's in a -- SY: A nursing home? RL: Yeah, extended care. And I'll mention that in just a minute. But Loring Hart was an academician and at the time -- each one of these presidents that we're talking about was the man for his time. That's what they needed. And then of course they outlived their time and so then they bring somebody else. So Loring was the academician. I think he brought people together. He certainly was a favorite of mine. I used to stay with him when I came up for the meetings. That's because we were friends. And that friendship developed after Norwich, after I graduated. When Loring left and Russ Todd came on, Russ and I talked -- General Todd and I talked a lot because I was on the trustees at that time. And he was the right man for the time because of the military aspect, that's what they needed. But I will say this, that Rick Schneider when it was his time to do it -- and he's been here, what, 20 some years. He brought characteristics or elements of all the presidents previously you might say. And why I say that, maybe not in the intensity of an Ernie Harmon, but he came with his military background with the Coast Guard. Second was his finance background, which is a Godspeed because he understands that you can't do anything unless you have the money to do it. And that is a big plus in the atmosphere that we operate in today. He also is able to work with people. Therefore, he's been able to advance the university in certain areas. And he's given them the latitude to do that, where we've gotten more prestigious things that are necessary in a university. Now he's working on the campaign for the bicentennial which he knows that may be part of his legacy is the fact that he leaves the school financially better off than when he came in, which is a very important thing because if we're to perpetuate this for longevity, we need the financial endowment. A lot of big schools have these huge endowments over the years. But you got to realize that in the early years, even in the '60s and the '70s, there was a very small endowment. And there wasn't a lot of money being given. But after that with technology a lot of our graduates have done extremely well. And they've been very generous with giving back to the school. So that's an important element as we look at our history in the 20th century and now in the 21st century is how things have changed from that standpoint. The university's changed because of the physical plant, because of the civilian population. And yet we're still getting great admission in the cadet corps. So the core values of the university, the concept of citizen soldier, has got to be preserved because that's the main stay as far as I'm concerned of the university. And when I came to this school, I had no intention of going into the military as a career. I took business and I expected to go into the business world. SY: And so why do you think you did? RL: As I progressed, everybody had to go in and had a military obligation regardless. I don't know how it developed. It just developed. I was always one of these people who was willing to take on responsibility and I was a cadre member the whole time. I did well at summer camp. And I was involved with all of these organizations here. SY: You were good at it.29 RL: Well I was interested in it. I was interested, like the honor committee and all these committees. But the point being is that I did well so I had the opportunity to -- I was a distinguished military graduate. I had the opportunity to accept an army commission. And I said, "Why not? Twenty years, get my masters, and go out in the business." Well I got to that point where I had my master's and 20 years and I got promoted early to colonel. And I had young kids and everything. I loved the military. So I just stayed in for 30. But how did I get into, it was Norwich. I didn't have any intention of coming into the military like a lot of these young men and women come into the school today. I had no idea that I would spend 30 years in the army. But I had a great career. I had great opportunities, great assignments, and so you look back on your life and you say, "Gee, I've been lucky." But I have to say that I was prepared academically before I came to Norwich, how to study, because the grades are important. And Norwich developed me after that. I don't know what more I can say. SY: I'm worried about you catching your plane. RL: No, no, don't worry about that. I'll catch that plane. I know how to do it. As long as they don't ticket me for speeding. SY: I think we're good. Thank you for coming back today. RL: Well you can edit anything out of that you want. END OF AUDIO FILE

Issue 64.1 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Biblical Helps Maki ng Co nne c tion s QUART~:RLY 64.1: 2005 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to cbarisms of Catholic religious life, As Pope Paul VI said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ YVeb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ¯ Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2005 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an}, 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. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uali~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer S~I Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard . Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 64.1 2005 contents prisms 4 Prisms religious life refocusea Religious Life: Naturally Sacred vs. Graced Sacred? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a sacramental perspective as a corrective for religious institutes to employ in bringing a harmony between the apostolic service inspired by the graced sacred of their chrisms and that same service adapted to the naturally sacred of human invention. 22 Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church: Analogical Considerations Edward Foley OFMCap suggests that, when we look at lay-and-clerical religious communities through the lenses of biculturality and double religious belonging, we will find an untapped resource for the church and the world to which we minister. 37 bib icaO he ps Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Colleen Vogt offers a pastoral solution for reclaiming the lament tradition, using lectio divina as a model to show how one might inhabit one of the p~alms of lament. Prayer / Reflection Review for Religious 51 The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey Matthias Newman OSB reviews the gradual increase of Bible reading in the everyday spirituality of Catholics and gives some guidelines for a person's spiritual journey. Prayer 65 making connections ~ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises Frederick E. Crowe SJ describes two ways of our human growth--the way from above downwards (belief) and the way from below upwards (personal acquisition)--and applies these ways to the Ignatian Exercises. 76 Ignatian Colloquies: Their Surpassing Value A. Paul Dominic SJ reflects on the ease and power of the prayer time known as the Ignatian colloquies. Reflection and Discussion 89 94 99 departments Scripture Scope: Death and Resurrection: Patterns of Loss and Hope Canonical Counsel: Salus Anirnarurn Book Reviews 64.1 200~ What you are now holding in your hand is the first issue of a carefully revised Review for Religious. Our new subtitle, as you see, is A Journal of Catholic Spirituality, a description that has always been true of our journal without being expressed explicitly. One is slow to modify an esteemed sixty-three-year- old journal, either in its title or in its format. A number Of factors have led me as editor, with the consultation and approval of my advisory board and my editorial staff, to introduce this subtitle and a slightly different format, adapted from our experi-mental issues called Spirituality Review. From its beginnings Review for Religious had as its primary audience the many men and women reli-gious- priests, brothers, and sisters--now more accurately called members of the consecrated life-form in the church. At the same time Review for Religious had readers who were diocesan priests and seminarians and men and women belonging to "third Orders" or secular associations of traditional religious orders such as the Benedictines and Franciscans. But the very title of the journal referred only to "sisters" and "brothels" and some priests. Today, in view of the women and men who are now formally associated with the spirituality and min- Review for Religious istries of various religious congregations and the many others who are coworkers in the mission, it seems appropriate to make our name more inclusive. Our journal desires to share the charisms of consecrated life with all who hope thereby to enhance their Christian lives. Review for Religious has always been a journal for mem-bers of all religious congregations, without focusing on just one of them. Now this journal continues along this path with renewed mindfulness of how laypersons can benefit from the richness of the church's various spiritual traditions. Review for Religious will continue to publish articles that are theological, pastoral, spiritual, historical, and sometimes canonical. As in our Spirituality Review supplement, we will have some articles that invite interaction, both through per-sonal reflection and through conversation with others. At the same time, we will continue to publish articles that demand more attentive reading and slow personal assimilation. We will have the more interactive articles in full on our website () along with synopses of other articles from the current issue. They will be easily acces-sible via the "icons" that grace particular sections of each issue. We ask you, our readers, to spread the good news about Review for Religious. David L. Fleming SJ 64.1 2005 NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Religious Life: Naturally Sacred vs. Graced Sacred? religious life refocused The World Bank has initiated a dialogue with faiths and cultures. One of its aims is to maximize the effectiveness of its projects.' Underlying the dialogue is this institution's supposition that it needs to look carefully at the beneficiaries of its projects. Their perceptions and viewpoints could be more relevant and practical than those of its own administrative personnel. The question is twofold. Are the World Bank's assumptions a hindrance or a support to the projects it sponsors, and can there be a mutually beneficial dialogue (teaching and learning hand in hand, "evangelizing and being evangelized") between the financing partner (World Bank) and the beneficiary (the nation and its people)? In the present article I pose and try to answer those two questions in the .context of religious life. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR has degrees in law, philosophy, Buddhism, and Catholic and evangelical theology; has recently retired from university teaching in Sri Lanka; and is spending time away from his country. He can be contacted c/o L.N. de S. Wijeyerame; 25, 2nd Lane; Ratmalana, Sri Lanka. Email: nabeyasingha@yahoo.com. Review for Religious If a religious institute can be considered the repository (the bank) of its charism and the "marginalized" the beneficiaries of its charism, the issues are, first, whether the methods of the institute are a help or hindrance to what it seeks to accomplish and, second, what mutual benefits of dialogue and interaction might we be talking about (evangelizing and being evangelized). I preface these reflections with a brief reference to Vatican Council II. When the decree Perfectae caritatis was being finalized, the forces in the council that were in tune with its renewed thinking had lost their theological battle to incorporate the vision of Lumen gentium (Constitution on the Church) into Perfectae caritatis (Decree on Religious Life). So they decided on a strategy. They outlined a method of reform and adaptation of religious life and left the actual adaptation to the religious institutes themselves. Perhaps no other council document (except Optatam totius in §16) describes a method so explicitly. The hope was that religious institutes would bring to their adaptation the vision of Lumen gentium. The method included two steps and five principles. The steps were for religious life to return to the sources of all Christian life and to adapt community living to meet the conditions of today. The five principles are (1) that the purpose of religious life is to follow Christ more closely, to live his story as it is told in the Gospels; (2) that the unique contribution of a religious institute to the church comes from the spirit and customs of its founders; (3) that all religious communities contribute to the church by taking up needs of the apostolate; (4) that communities' keen awareness of the human condition in today's world will help them serve more adequately; and (5) that all the external changes in the world mean nothing without a renewal of heart that never forgets that the goal of religious life is closeness to Christ through the vows. 64.1 2005 Abeyasingha * Religious Life The charism of the institute is a graced gift of the Spirit that~ is not available to all. A Challenging Counterfeit Probably all religious institutes have adapted their constitutions and statutes in accordance with these two steps and five principles, but problems arise amid this very renewal. In addressing them I offer this first hypothesis, namely, that sometimes what makes for the personal fulfillment of the members of a religious institute may hinder the effective functioning of the charism. The paradox of human existence is that we are spiritual and bodily at the same time. The paschal mystery touches the very depths of our being (see Rm 6). But the problem is: Can we ever fully know what our full potential as humans beings is and what depends on the gift of the Holy Spirit? Almost every spiritual gift has what has been called "a challenging counterfeit"-- spiritual healing-psychic healing, prophecy-psychic knowing, divine ecstasy-self-induced trance, and so forth) The one comes from the Spirit, the other from human nature. No one denies that what comes from human nature is good. But the problem comes when the natural is identified as not merely from "above," but as a gift of the spirit beyond questioning by mere mortals, including those entrusted with the task of "discerning spirits" within the religious institute. Natural gifts are good, even sacred, because they ultimately derive from the Spirit. But religious life bears witness to the following of Christ according to the charism of the founder. Following Christ is a call to all people without exception; the charism of the institute is a graced gift of the Spirit that is not available to all. Review for Religious The charism is different from the naturally sacred. Rudolf Otto wrote of the numinous. Jung discovered a religious component in mental health. The charism, on the other hand, is what can be called the "graced sacred." This graced sacred brings us to a greater awareness of our difference from God, seen in our particular personhood and historicity, and leads us to communion with God and with our fellow human beings. This is the point of Lumen gentium, the constitution on the church, describing the church as a sacrament, a sign and instrument of intimate union with God and the unity of the whole human race. Harmonizing the Naturally Sacred and the Graced Sacred What I suggest in this article is that the harmony comes about from the meaning of sacrament. The sacramentality of the church is expressed preeminently in seven different aspects (the sacraments) and many other practices (sacramentals). One sacrament cannot be substituted for another; the fruit of each is specific. That specific fruit is symbolized by specific natural elements and the orientation given to those elements by specific words. Similarly, I suggest, religious life and its institutes may not be in a position to use all of the naturally sacred (all of the multiplicity of good gifts) along with the graced sacred of their specific charisms, but must keep a sacramental perspective: the bread and wine of Eucharistic celebrations are no substitute for the water of baptism. To think and do otherwise is like something described by Eric Gill (1882-1940): "The clergy seem to regard it as their job to support a social order which as far as possible forces us to commit all the sins they denounce. ¯ . . A man can be a very good Catholic in a factory, our parish priest used to be fond of saying. And he was very annoyed and called us bolshevists when we retorted: Yes, 64.1 2005 Abeyusingba ¯ Religious Life but it requires heroic virtue and you have no right to demand heroic virtue from anyone and certainly not from men and women in thousands and millions." A Specific "Grace" for a Specific "Need" of a Specific "People" Here is an example from the secular world. Why do business corporations exist? To make a profit for shareholders by serving their clientele. Coca-Cola marketed a soft drink with a particular flavor for nearly a hundred years. Many felt it was time to change. A new flavor was developed. For four years there were market surveys and discussions about whether the new flavor would be accepted. Experts thought it would. But, when the new flavor was introduced, sales began falling, Coca- Cola dealers began complaining, speculators were buying up the old brand and reselling it at a premium. Once the facts were established, the management was quick to do a flip-flop. As always in the marketplace, even the cleverest ideas surrender unconditionally to reality. To express this in the language of sacraments, Coca- Cola is the church. The drink it produces and advertises (the external sign) is intended to get specific results: popular refreshment and financial profit. When adaptations are made for greater effectiveness and that effectiveness is not forthcoming, the company goes back to its original specific success. (The analogies here are, of course, rather loose.) Both business effectiveness and sacramental effectiveness may have something that religious institutes could well learn from. Another analogy would be: As any fisherman knows, the bait has to be attractive to the fish, not to the fisherman. A group of teaching brothers came from Europe to a mission country many years ago and established a small school primarily for Catholics in the town, but others were Review for Religious admitted if there was room. The brothers received no salary; their founding province supported them. Because of their sheer dedication, the school prospered. Years passed. Graduates of the school did very Well and soon held many of the better jobs. More and more students applied for admission. The school expanded. Fees were raised. The result? The poorer Catholic children for whom the school was originally intended could no longer afford the school, and, with the shortage of vocations in Europe, the brothers could no longer staff the school and so they pulled out. The diocese now runs the school. The question is whether the school and its activity and reputation are still effective signs producing the particular good result it was established to produce. Less than ten percent of its students are from poor Catholic families. I raise another question. A religious who was a popular teacher and preacher (let us call him Jack) asked and received permission to study for a doctorate in his own country. During his studies he wanted to continue with some teaching and preaching, his institute's main work; that, too, was approved. When he asked for a computer, however, he was told, "We cannot afford to give you a computer, but if someone gives you one you may keep it." At that same time his institute was spending a great deal of money on other things, including computers for others studying elsewhere. What sense does this make? What is the "sign value" of this refusal, especially when it is the institute's policy to provide members with what they need for their mission and apostolate? Priority of Insight over Orders: Problems of Transition An institution is always in danger of taking care of itself first and finding reasons for continuing to do what it has begun doing. Before Vatican II one hardly thought of the 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life church and religious life as sacramental. They were institutions and functioned like clockwork on orders given from above rather than by options freely made by the members. The only option members had was to join the institute or leave it. Leaving An institution was not really an option, for is always in danger of it was considered putting oneself in danger of dam-taking care of itself first nation. But with Vatican II the idea came to the fore and finding reasons for-o that God's revelation is not continuing to~do so much the communication ~ of his will by commands, but what it has begun doing:., rather the manifestation of ___ I his call in Christ. Options took priority over orders--not that orders did not have a place. Life always has to function with some insights and orders from above. In the period of transition, option often came to mean a choice for oneself and for one's own pleasure and convenience. The result was some new terminology and some misunderstandings. Many religious who had worked tirelessly in the mission field were convinced of their mission's importance, but their success (judged especially by the love of the people) began to be criticized from the perspective of social-justice issues. Critics said it was more important to root out the causes of evil than to treat the victims of it. (When a drunken driver is knocking people down, one stops the driver first and then takes care of the injured.) 12 With democratic elections of superiors, numbers counted. Lobbying for candidates became a virtue supposedly for the good of the insftute. Advertisements in Catholic publications, and much more the talks of vocation promoters to prospective candidates, pointed Review for Religious out the benefits of joining this or that institute. One such promoter of vocations says, "If you join, you will get a good education, two degrees, never be without food, shelter, and clothing, take trips abroad" and so forth. The Ironic Priority of the Naturally Sacred over the Graced Sacred Twenty or thirty years ago a certain pastoral initiative was to be voted on. Some thought it was going astray. An insightful religious defended the initiative and argued that negative votes would probably be motivated by envy more than prudence. My interest now, though, is in the conclusion of what he said at the time, a short section titled "Tips to Younger Members." Today it seems to make a great deal of sense. I present an edited version of what he said, so that the individuals and the institute involved may not be identified. Those who have followed the recent efforts to block the pastoral initiative will surely have picked up some guidelines for their future. Some of these could be: 1. Concentrate on becoming popular. This is more important today, when decisions depend a great deal on the community, than when the superior was all-powerful. If you are accepted by the confreres, whatever you do will be accepted. If you are unpopular, you could be a hundred percent right, but people will find flaws. 2. Develop your apostolate outside the congregation, rather than do something that will redound to its name. 3. Spend more time on creating public opinion than on the actual work. Opportunities for this are many in the work you do and in community gatherings. Every vote you win can help. An 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life excellent way of becoming popular is to caricature someone else, preferably someone who is out of favor at the time. 4. Note that some institutes operate like prima donnas and cannot tolerate another getting the limelight and tend to undermine those that succeed. 5. Note that, beneath all the spiritual talk, we use the same tactics that politics does; for example, we eliminate those who threaten our position. 6. Note that some confreres are skillful in getting people transferred, projects closed, and houses rethought. Enlist their help if you find that your present house or a particular confrere does not suit your taste. 7. Remember that, if you muster a sufficient quantity of emotion, it can carry more weight than rational arguments. 8. If you have a foreign degree and good contacts abroad, use arguments camouflaged by spirituality to prevent others from acquiring similar advantages: 9. Do not forget to choose scapegoats. They provide safety outlets for group frustration. If possible, pick on the more talented ones, for that will give you a head start in the race. It is easy to see that this man's irony points out the danger of the naturally sacred taking priority over the graced sacred and, worse still, acquiring institutional approval. Where to focus? My Contention is that the sacramental perspective, as outlined earlier, could function as a corrective. In this regard I recall two axioms that were used in sacramental theology: "Sacraments are for people" and "Sacraments are to be celebrated in a Revie~ for Religious human way." The corrective is people, learning from them even as one teaches and serves them and letting the normal dynamic of human interactions operate. Introducing a Corrective Based as they are on people's memories and often on their catering to their own selves, mentalities cannot be changed by decree. It is possible, however, to improve one's memories by expanding one's horizons. It is possible to lessen one's selfishness by increasing it, by including others within the ambit of self-love and self-fulfillment and thereby making pleasures of longer duration available to them and oneself, by loving your neighbor as yourself. In our day the horizons of memory are constantly being expanded. There is the effort to draw from Christian and pre-Christian thinkers principles that could be used in management. There is fascination in the variety of cultural patterns, even though unfortunately the principle of "might is right" sometimes operates. Other problems arise when people do what they consider good for others without paying enough attention to cultural patterns. Technology has expanded, and now there is the marvel of the global village. People cannot survive in this "village" by excluding others and looking out only for themselves. But that does not mean following others blindly. It is by contributing one's particular insight that one benefits from the global environment. How the Corrective Could Function The principle is that all people have specific contributions to make in the service of others. That is the reason for the very existence of religious institutes. In the global village the interconnections among people can help in the sharing .of benefits, but, if people simply remain members of the crowd and do not offer something 64.1 200Y Abeyasingba * Religious Life specific, the benefits to be shared are nothing special and what each person receives is even less. How the religious charism functions is not much different. Those who bear the charism today have to be fully aware of both providing and receiving benefits, benefits that are not necessarily measurable in money or any other numerical way. The benefits are in the life of the community of believers and in the life of the religious institute. In the history of Christianity, when many believers, sometimes the majority, deviated from gospel values, almost always it was a religious institute that initiated the reform. Eric Gill said that the "social order" which his parish priest supported (namely, values which well-meaning people usually support) often forces people to commit all the sins they denounce. This was the point made in the satiric novel The Ugly American, which showed how unintended negative results often come out of well-intentioned and generous works of U.S. foreign policy.3 One can perhaps draw from it some ideas for religious to take into account today. 1. If you manipulate people or achieve results using unethical means, the people at some point use these same means against you. Because unethical means often yield quick results, it is easy, when human rights are violated, to focus on some beneficial result being achieved at the moment. The words of a British politician are relevant: "We have no perpetual friends, no perpetual enemies; we have only perpetual interests." Western religious orders with dwindling numbers are tempted to take in members from wherever they can in order to continue the works they have set up. But have they ever asked themselves whether what they are doing caters to the self-interest of the recruits. Are the new members interested in religious life and the ministry of the institute? Or do they consider it a way of getting access to the more affluent world? By Review for Religious getting new members accustomed to levels of creature comforts well above those of the upper-middle class in their own countries, are religious institutes providing the means for a more effective ministry or are they creating a self-serving inward-looking membership? When higher superiors support blindly the actions of lower superiors, regardless of whether such actions are ethical or not, what message are they conveying to observers who have offered criticism and to others who see or hear about what is going on? The ironic "Tips to Younger Members" mentioned above are all-too-accurate a list of what religious institutes, sometimes knowingly, sometimes with naive good intentions, actually do. They seem not to ask themselves pointedly whether tolerating (or even approving) such conditions Wh nstarting lO al m-o ement, local resources. and arrangements almost inevitably causes amoral and even immoral practices to increase in the general membership. 2. When starting a local movement, use local resources. First discern the spirit of the locals that one chooses as collaborators. Then let the locals decide clearly and exactly what it is they want. When the project takes a life of its own, know that it is time to bid goodbye and let the locals manage.it. In The Ugly American a priest who wanted to do something for the locals has been so successful that the U.S. ambassador in the country writes about him, "If the report is accurate, this man is an agitator of the most extreme skill, and combines with this the typical Jesuitical command of dialectics. The priest is rumored to speak Burmese, eats native food, and is obviously engaged in some sort of papist plot. I need not remind you of Lenin's warnings about the skill of the 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life papacy when its interests are threatened. I should appreciate receiving whatever dossier material you might have on this man.''4 If any project initiated by an outsider is to endure and not be considered a foreign imposition, it must take on a life of its own in the new soil. When people have forgotten who started a given project, that is a good sign. It means it has become part of themselves. In Bombay, India, the vigil Mass for Sundays was started relatively recently. But in Sri Lanka it has been functioning for over thirty years. The same is true of the paschal vigil celebrated after nightfall and not at midnight. If asked who initiated the changes in these places, people would probably have no idea. The fact is that they were introduced by one priest after he found that some people had difficulty coming to Sunday Mass and the Easier Vigil celebrated at midnight. Many of his fellow priests, however, were very negative about his initiative. If a project is to take a life of its own and continue beyond the lifetime of those who set it in place, it must operate according to local norms, use local resources, and harness local technology. The general temptation is often to go high tech, but in the less-developed world high tech often flounders. How many computers have been damaged when the electricity fails without warning or when voltage fluctuates? How much equipment lies unused in hospitals, either because the technician who was trained to operate the instrument has retired or because the materials required to operate it are not easily available? When high-tech equipment needs repair, who is at hand to repair it or who has the money to replace it? How few are those who think ahead and avoid such problems! How many projects fail to take account of the real needs of the people here and now and the present state of development! Are they projects that the people Review for Religious can contribute to and participate in? 3. If one can move with the "native" majority-- haltingly at first and with more confidence later--and come to share their way of life, one comes to understand their hopes and fears and expectations. That is an excellent basis for an apostolate that the majority will feel part of. With all their limitations and biases, they will bring also their native wisdom. On the other hand, if one begins with a minority elite that shares one's own cultural background and lifestyle, the apostolate is likely to move in an elitist direction and result in efforts "owned" mostly by the few and largely for their own benefit. 4. One can learn even from those who oppose one's efforts. In The Ugly American the exchange between two characters--both of them in the armed forces--is interesting. One is French and the other American. They are both involved in fighting the communists in Vietnam. The Frenchman believes that beyond the classical authors there is little to learn. But the war is going badly for those who are following classical methods. The American comes along. He proposes that some of the principles of Mao Tse-tung be included in their war effort, and he proposes fighting a battle on those principles. The Frenchman is surprised and even pleased at their success. The lesson is clear. One can learn tactics and strategy even from the "enemy"--those espousing false doctrine, unconscionable goals, and so forth. The Reassertion of the Graced Sacred Early in this article I pointed out the relation and the difference between the naturally sacred and the graced sacred. The interplay between them comes to the fore in Advent, when one reflects on the significance of Jesus' incarnation. It occurs in the prayers after communion on the four Sundays of Advent: "May our communion teach 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life us to love heaven. May its promise and hope guide our way on earth"; "teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and to love the things of heaven"; "may this Eucharist free us from our sins and prepare us for the birthday of our Savior"i "in this sacrament we receive the promise of salvation; as Christmas draws near, make us grow in faith and love." It is not that the things of this world are evil. The statement "Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in [Christians'] hearts" (GS §1) sums up the spirit of Vatican II. The point is the balance. While we appreciate and enjoy the things of this world, how do we express our faith in Christ? We seek a balance between the things of earth and those of heaven. The prayer in Proverbs 30:7-9 is relevant to ordinary human affairs and to the charism of a religious institute: "O God, two things I beg of you; do not deny me them before I die. Keep lying and falsehood far away from me; give me neither poverty nor riches; give me just as much food as I need lest, satisfied, I deny you and say, 'Who is Yahweh?' Or else, being in want, I steal and profane the name of my God." It is easy to begin well and end up doing all-too-well for ourselves. If, however, we live with and work for the majority and, more particularly, the lower end of that majority, then there is a good reality check on whether we are incarnating the charism to address today's needs or manipulating the charism for ourselves. An Italian missionary in Sri Lanka was known for his love for the laborers in his parishes. Eventually he became bishop and was known as the "coolie bishop." He traveled by public transport and, when asked why, said he liked to meet the ordinary people. Beggars walked in and out of his office. When celebrating Mass for the laborers, he went to them in full episcopal attire because, he said, he wanted to Review for Religious honor them. When I was a young priest, he was already retired. When I visited him soon after my ordination, he told me, "Look after the poor. If you do that, the rich will automatically come to you." Notes ~ See www.worldbank.org. 2 See Robert T. Sears, "A Christian Approach to Discerning Spiritualities," Journal of Christian Healing 21, no. 1 (spring 1999): 17-18. 3 William J. Lederer and Eugene Burdick, The Ugly American (London, 1958). By 1961 it had gone into thirteen printings. 4 Lederer and Burdick, Ugly American, p. 41. Be Still Be still, very still, and know that I am God. Listen to the steady breathing of a baby fern just before dawn. Listen to the high blue air calling to a distant cloud. (Do not try to woo me with your words. My heart already aches for yours - oh, if you but knew!) Listen to a cornstalk's shadow singing to the sun. Listen to ants chuckling, scratching their ears, to seeds throbbing with life. Listen long with your whole being. My voice is a whisper. My voice is silence. Be very, very still. Louise Finn CND 64.1 2005 EDWARD FOLEY Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church: Analogical Considerations An intriguing outcome of the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life was the definition of a new genre of religious life, '~mixed communities." In Vita con-secrata Pope John Paul II has described "mixed" com-munities as institutes that originally "were envisioned as a brotherhood in which all members, priests and those who were not priests, were considered equal among themselves" but "have acquired a different form with the passage of time" (§61). Two distinct yet 0ppositional fac-tors in this picture are the clericalization that had occurred in many men's religious communities before Vatican Council II and the call of the council's Perfectae caritatis (§2) for communities to return to the original inspiration of their founders.1 Edward Foley OFMCap presented a x;ersion of this article in Assisi in March 2004. He is professor of liturgy and music at Chicago Theological Union, where his address is 5401 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. Review for Religious When my Capuchin Franciscan order addressed these two factors, it became clear that brotherhood and fra-ternity, rather than ordination, are the "specific kernel of the gospel form of life revealed by the Most High to Francis." Capuchins have declined to introduce "clerical institute" language into our constitutions, appealing this matter directly to Pope John Paul II in 1987. The pope's 1996 message to our minister general, in which he stressed the link between our identity as brothers and the nature of "mixed institutes," seems to affirm the non-clerical nature of our order.2 Despite such official clarifications, however, there continue to be tensions among Capuchins regarding the appropriate relationship between ordination and reli-gious profession. Such tensions manifest themselves gov-ernmentally around the questions of electing lay brothers as provincials and of the proper role of concelebration in Capuchin life. Initial formation also is a point of con-tention: formators struggle with balance between for-mation for Capuchin life and formation for ordained ministry. Such tensions are not limited to Capuchins or Franciscans; many "mixed communities" struggle with them. More broadly, the Roman Catholic Church itself could be considered a "mixed community" comprising lay and ordained persons, persons of equal dignity in dif-ferent ecclesial states of life. And so I offer this study of "Capuchin priesthood" not only as a way to rethink the nature of ordained priesthood within institutes of consecrated life, but also as a way to reenvision the relationship of ordination and baptism, of the clergy and the laity. If a community of equal members can consider the juxtaposition of its Franciscan "minority" and its sacerdotality less as a prob-lem to be solved than a grace to be lived, maybe its think-ing can help other religious communities and the church 64.1 200~ Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church 24 itself to think about appropriate complementarities among the mix of lay and ordained members. I propose this reenvisioning through two unexpected analogues to the relationship of priesthood and member-ship in an institute of consecrated life. These two ana-logues are biculturality and double religious belonging. Biculturality One of the characteristics of 2 lst-century society is a heightened multiculturalism. Cultural commentators and especially cross-cultural psychologists have begun to explore the phenomenon of biculturality. Sometimes it is defined as "the ability of people in a minority culture to understand and work within the dominant culture in order to improve their economic and/or physical well-being .[while retaining] the knowledge and behaviors of their own indigenous culture." 3 Some contend that bicul-turalism is only a transitory phase.4 Others believe that biculturality is by definition the marginal experience of not being in either culture, but trying to understand and change that situation,s Recently, however, some researchers have argued that biculturality is not necessarily a matter of marginalizafion or dislocation nor an uncomfortable step toward assim-ilation. Rather, it is a healthy and even ideal stage in which one's original cultural worldview remains while one acquires other cultural views.6 According to these researchers, then, biculturality can be the integrated life stance of belonging to two cultures at the same time.7 This view of biculturality suggests that living what some have called "a hyphenated existence" successfully does not mean achieving a perfect equilibrium between cultures, but engaging in a continuous negotiation between them. Researchers have found that bicultural persons do not embrace elements from both cultures to Review for Religious the same degree at the same time. Instead, as their self-identities adjust to various social situations, they seek various cultural balances.8 They seem to achieve an advanced degree of acculturation, becom-ing adept at drawing upon varied aspects of their cultural identities as needed. I think that this more positive and dynamic understanding of biculturality pro-vides a useful analogy for thinking about religaous profession vis-a-vis the priesthood. In particular, I think it makes three distinc-tive contributions to thinking about this relationship. First of all, biculturality suggests that being an ordained religious does not force one to choose either the religious life or the priesthood as primary or foundational. Unfortunately, this choice is often made: men describe themselves as "first a Capuchin, and only then a priest." Such words imply that one vocation is not as important or as privileged a voice in the identity as the other. Chronologically, of course, formation as a Capuchin ordi-narily comes first and then formation for presbyteral min-istry, but this does not prevent a friar from living an integrated life, with religious profession and ordination as equal dialogue partners in the lived "culture" of his vocation. If one were to find theological meaning in this chronology, a meaning that would supersede "cultural" considerations, that could introduce a kind of colonial-ism by suggesting, for example, that Capuchin priesthood must somehow be tamed by Capuchin life--or vice versa. Biculturality, however, suggests another way. Individual Capuchins and Capuchin communities that 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi~ to the Church welcome both profession and ordination can model-- because of that lived reality--a mutual "inculturation" (not an "acculturation,''9 but a constructive bicultural-ity), an integration without denigration. This would be a turn to what some theologians call "complementary dualism," a kind of East Asian yin-yang symbolic think-ing-- a "both/and" form of thinking distinct from the "conflicting dualism" and "either/or" thinking that mark so much of Western thought.1° Biculturality reveals that, in the hyphenated reality of the friar-priest and in the reality of ordained and nonordained members in mixed communities, there is actually grace: for the individual, the community, the church, and the world. Biculturality suggests that there is here a gift to be accepted, not a problem to be solved.~ There is, as Jung Young Lee asserts, an invitation to be not only "both/and," not only "in-between," but also "in-beyond," transcending the present and finding a new identity, a new understand-ing, a new relationality epitomized as a "harmony of dif-ference." 12 A second contribution of biculturality to our under-standing of ordained religious and of communities that comprise both the lay and ordained vocations is aware-ness of the dynamism present there. As previously noted, various studies have shown that bicultural persons make various adaptations according to various social situa-tions. 13 This insight is useful for mixed communities and for their individual friar-priests. Just as a bicultural African American woman knows when to adapt to one or other circumstance or keep a balance between them, so can individual Capuchin priests and Capuchin communities acquire sufficient integra-tion to know what to do when. An example would be concelebration. When they concelebrate, ordained friars emphasize the presbyteral facet of their ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Sometimes this is most appropriate, as at the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday, when priests celebrate receiv-ing their priesthood from Christ in union with their bishop. At a Mass of first profession, however, concele-bration is inappropriate, for it would emphasize the priesthood of some of the friars at a ritual moment when our Capuchin identity is the focus. Concelebration is not an absolute right; it needs to be regulated in accord with various sensible considerations.14 Note that the goal of people's inculturation is alertness to relevant consid-erations and wisdom in weighing them in various cir-cumstances. One-size-fits-all responses (such as "No concelebration, ever" or "I always concelebrate") are not adequate. The goal is not to ignore or suppress prefer-ences and other considerations, but to find the appro-priate dynamic balance in various circumstances. A third contribution of bicultural understandings is that they can put us in solidarity with the many sisters and brothers around the world for whom biculturality is not an option, but a fact of their everyday life. The last thirty years have brought a 230-percent increase in the number of people who live outside their countries of birth--an estimated 185 million people,is Growing numbers of today's people are of mixed race. As V]rgilio Elizondo has aptly noted, "the future is mestizo." 16 Of course, biculturality and mixed race are not nec-essarily synonymous terms, especially if one thinks of biculturality as an advanced state of acculturation. Unfortunately, many immigrants and people of mixed race live in circumstances of marginalization and forced itinerancy, not integration. Such pilgrims long to move in from the margins, finding a society that allows them to live their own lives--woven of disparate social and cultural strands--in integrated and peaceful ways. If we are to be on mission to these displaced and dis- 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Cburcb traught people, we must acknowledge that our first step in evangelization is "the example of our lives.''~7 The ecclesially "mixed" ~8 nature of international communities such as the Capuchins is an untapped resource for our mission to those caught between countries, languages, We are a hybrid community, a conjunction of lay and ordained, disparate str~ands woven together into a single, yet not homogenized identity: ? and cultures, for we embody an ecclesias-tical biculturality and are a religious paral-lel to what some post-modern scholars call "hybridity." We are a hybrid community, a conjunction of lay and ordained, dis-parate strands woven together into a single yet not homogenized identity. We are living examples-- or at least potential examples--of ecclesiastical incul-turation, of the integration of clerical and lay cultures into better relationship. Double Religious Belonging Another contemporary form of hybridity is double religious belonging.19 This, too, may help lay religious and ordained religious reimage their togetherness. Double religious belonging--that is, being an adherent of one religion while incorporating the teachings or prac-tices of another religion--may be attributable to increas-ing globalization. In the West and in a church such as ours, this appears to be the case.2° In countries like Japan, however, double religious belonging is not only widespread but also a traditional, preglobalization real-ity. Recent government statistics indicate that, in a coun-try of 126 million, 100 million Japanese identify Review for Religious themselves as Shinto adherents, and 95 million identify themselves as Buddhists. The only conclusion one can draw is that a majority of Japanese consider themselves both Shintoists and Buddhists.2~ Not only is double religious belonging the rule in China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka;22 it is also at the root of Christian origins. Claude Geffr~ writes: "At first the Jews who had become disci-ples of the path of Jesus found it completely normal to continue to visit the synagogue, to be circumcised, and not to eat certain forms of impure meats. Thus they believed in the possibility of remaining Jewish while becoming Christian.''23 Despite this history, however, double religious belonging has emerged as a theological problem "in reli-gions that demand an absolute and exclusive commit-ment on the part of their adherents to their founders and/or faiths." Peter Phan numbers among such reli-gions Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He notes that "these three religions consider themselves not only mutu-ally incompatible but also irreconcilable with any other religion whatsoever, so that 'conversion' to any one of them is often celebrated with an external ritual signaling a total abjuration of all previous religious allegiances." Despite such official stances, some Roman Catholic and other Christian scholars believe that double belonging-- being a Hindu Christian or a Christian Buddhist--is increasing and may even be desirable.24 1 will leave that debate to theologians concerned with religious plural-ism, but I want to examine two contributions that dou-ble religious belonging brings to our rethinking of the "mixed communities" of priests and lay religious. First, double religious belonging is a catalyst for a particular and promising type of dialogue across notori-ously difficult terrain. Vv'hen individuals and communi- 64.1 200Y. Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi3~ to the Church ties simultaneously identify themselves with two distinct religious traditions, they enable dialogue marked by unusual openness and absence of acrimony. In describing effective interreligious dialogue, Jacques Dupuis says that, "in order to be true, interreligious dialogue between persons of different faiths requires that both partners make a positive effort to enter into each other's religious experience and overall vision insofar as is possible.''2s Such empathy is a particular gift of those individuals and communities who live not between but within two dif-ferent religious experiences. Their dialogue is actually a dialogue with themselves, and it has a ready capacity for honesty and authenticity in a complementary rather than exclusionary manner. It is, in effect, a public self-exam-ination requiring a particular humility and honesty. Such dialogue is not only a technique for survival but a powerful form of witness and evangelization.26 It reveals Christianity in its most hospitable mode, allowing for "mutual complementarity" that enriches all partners in the dialogue.27 It is a rejection of colonial forms of mis-sionary activity where the goal is to impose one's reli-gious beliefs on another community, and an exquisite example of a new kind of missiological dialogue--a "mis-sion in reverse"--in which a true mutuality between mis-sionary and community develops,z8 Analogously, 2 lst-century Capuchins--like other mixed communities--embody a kind of double religious belonging, both within individual friars and within our communities. The graced invitation here is to a public dialogue of the self, a new response to our constitutions' call to "mutual dialogue" in a spirit of fraternal under-standing and sincere esteem,29 a call to a continual self-examination marked by empathy, honesty, and hospitality. If we can sustain such humble dialogue, not so much for resolving some perceived problem in our Capuchin iden- Review for Religious tity as for continual self-reflection, Capuchin life will freshly give gospel witness to people outside the Roman Catholic community. Simultaneously, such Capuchin Franciscan dialogue will become a poignant form of "new evangelization," not only (in Pope John Paul's words) as "reawakening traditionally Christian countries to the urgency of the gospel," but also as struggling with the alienation that faithful Catholics often feel as a result of clericalism in the face of yearnings for new models for the ordained ministry. A second contribution of double religious belonging to our rethinking of Capuchin priesthood is its invita-tion to reconciliation. Few forms of violence are more heinous than those perpetrated in the name of religion. Holy wars, a disturb-ing human reality, are a particularly unset-tling legacy among Jews, Christians, and Muslims.3° In his clas-sic work Violence and the Sacred, Ren4 Girard ,i A secon~ d. contribution of idouble religious belonging ' :o~o to o.urreth~i~tking ~ ,,~"~ ~i~of Capuch~n priesthood ::~ ,:is i~s invitation to r~coffciliation, has demonstrated how religion and violence are wed together in ancient religions.31 As recent events in Bosnia, Northern Ireland, Israel, Afghanistan, and other places demonstrate, however, the inseparability of religion and violence has not been relegated to some ancient past. Sadly, many today embrace violence as a "sacred duty." 32 As Christians we are called to confess the horrors we have perpetrated under the banner of Christ. As John Cobb summarizes, "our history is replete with persecu-tion of Jews and heretics. We have sanctioned and sanc- 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi3~ to the Church dried conquest and slavery. We have undergirded patri-archy in extreme and horrific forms. We have ignored the consequences of our actions for the well-being of the natural world, thus threatening the human future on this planet. We have used political and economic power to force our beliefs on others." 33 Few have modeled our need to confess such sins of commission and omission as much as our H01y Father, who throughout his pon-tificate has confessed the wrongs that the church has perpetrated against Jews, the Orthodox, minorities, and others.34 This is an essential move towards reconcilia-tion. Yet forgiveness is not a power that belongs to the perpetrators, but a gift that belongs to victims, and it is a gift they can give only when they are no longer demo-nized, colonialized, trivialized, or in some other way dis-missed as the "other.''3s Those who experience the grace of double religious belonging can show us the way. They have embraced the other to themselve~ and become living icons of interre-ligious dialogue. As dynamic models of integration, they clarify that reconciliation is not an act once and for all achieved, but an abiding prophetic stance.36 Individuals and, even more so, communities of double religious belonging are symbolic antidotes for the poisons of reli-gious ignorance and hostility, and show the way to "shalom." A minorite community of lay and ordained members can be similarly iconic. Individual ordained fri-ars and, even moire so, communities of lay and ordained brothers also manifest, in a sense, double religious belonging. They show clearly that there are no aliens or strangers in our midst, that otherness is to be welcomed. What a potent witness to a church in which there is considerable feeling of alienation. Many feel that prob-lems of a clerical culture significantly contributed to the sexual abuse that has rocked the church in my own coun- Review for Religious try and others. The clergy and the laity feel some alien-ation from each other. In a recent study of newly ordained Roman Catholic priests in the United States, the respected sociologist Dean Hoge reports that sev-enty- five percent of diocesan priests in the United States ordained between 1995 and 1999 believe that ordination confers on priests a new status which makes him essen-tially different from the laity; sixty-nine percent believe that a priest must see himself as a "man set apart" by God; and thirty-six percent think the laity need to be "better educated to respect the authority of the priest's word.''37 This suggests that considerable numbers of Roman Catholic priests and laypersons may view each other as different, unreconciled strangers, even aliens. Like all those who embrace otherness even in them-selves, we Capuchins too must be agents of reconcilia-tion, in the church and for the church and the world. In the image of the Crucified, we are called to break the circle of violence, to model a new way of being church, a new way of being priest, no.t predicated upon separa-tion and sacralization, but rather in solidarity with oth-ers and in humble service. A Gift to the Church Often communities like my own consider the issue of lay friars and friar-priests an internal one. I would contend that mixed communities are not an intra nos "problem," but a gift to the church and the world. The meaning, the reality, of that gift is well illustrated by its analogy with the contemporary phenomena of biculturality and double reli-gious belonging. Such reenvisioning is useful not only for mixed religious communities, but also for a the contem-porary "mixed" church. In a world and church wounded by violence and oppression and abuse, it is only through collaboration, mutuality, and an openness to understand- 64.1 2005 Foley * Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church ing and abiding with each other that we can prevent vio-lence and become true collaborators in God's reign. Notes t For help on this article, I am grateful especially to Professors Stephen Bevans SVD and Robert Schreiter CPPS of Catholic Theological Union and to my Capuchin brother Patrick McSherry. 2 Analecta OFM Cap (2002): 338-342. 3 Jerome Hanley, "Beyond the Tip of the Iceberg," Reaching Today's Youth 3, no. 2 (1999): 10. 4 See M.M. Gordon, Assimilation in American life (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964). s Visweswaran Kamala, Fictions of Feminist Ethnography (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), p. 127, as cited in Ravneet Tiwana, "Hyphenated Identities and the Space 'In- Between': Construction of the Sikh-American Identity." http://depart-ments. oxy.edu/anthropology(31.xii.03). 6 J.M. Bennett, "Multiculturalism and International Education: Domestic and International Differences," in Learning across Cultures, ed. Gary Althen (Washington D.C.: National Association of International Educators, 1994), pp. 157-158. 7 See Jean Phinney, "Ethnic Identity in Adolescents and Adults: Review of Research," Psychological Bulletin 108, no. 3 (1990): 501- 502. s See K.A. Noels, G. Pon, and R. Clement, "Language, Identity, and Adjustment: The Role of Linguistic Self-Confidence in the Acculturation Process," Journal of Language and Social Psychology 15, no. 3 (1996): 246-264. 9 This is an intentional move from the term "acculturation," used by social scientists, to "inculturation," used by theologians. ~0 Jung Young Lee, The Trinity in Asian Perspective (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), pp. 33-34. ** See the stories of "hyphenation" as 'an exploration of grace in Peter Phan and Jung Young Lee, eds., Journeys at the Margin: Toward an Autobiographical Theology in Asian-American Perspective (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1999). ,2 See Jung Young Lee, Marginality: The Key to Multicultural Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995). ,3 See Inga Jasinskaja-Lahti, "On a Way toward Integration: Russian-Speaking Immigrant Adolescents in Finland." http:// www.utu.fi(15.xii.03). Review for Religious 14 See John Huels, "Concelebration," in Disputed Questions in the Liturgy Today (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1988), pp. 39-45. ,5 This is a conservative estimate (9.i.04). ~6 Virgilio Elizondo, The Future Is Mestizo (Oak Park: Meyer-Stone Books, 1988). ~7 Third Plenary Council of the Capuchin Order (Mattli, 1978), The Path of Renewal: The Documents of the Five Plenary Councils and the First Assembly of the Order of Capuchin Friars Minor, ed. Regis Armstrong, p. 44. ,8 Letter of John Paul II to John Corriveau (18 September 1996) as cited in Analecta OFM Cap 112, nos. 3-4 (1996): 566. ~9 Though some speak of "multiple religious belonging," we opt for "double religious belonging." As Claude Geffr~ explains, multiple religious belonging is a postmodern form of syncretism in which con-sumers consider the living religions as supermarkets from which they choose. It is "believing without belonging," with little attention to "the credibility of this or that belief, its necessary connection to this or that religious system, and its incompatibility with other beliefs. The only criterion is the enhancement of my being and most inti-mate potentialities." See "Double Belonging and the Originality of Christianity as a Religion," in Many Mansions? Multiple Religious Belonging and Christianity, ed. Catherine Cornille (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 2002), p. 94. 20 See Catherine Cornille, "The Dynamics of Multiple Belonging," in Many Mansions? p. 1. 2~ Jan Van Bragt, "Multiple Religious Belonging of the Japanese People," in Many Mansions? p. 8. 22 Peter Phan, "Multiple Religious Belonging," Theological Studies 64 (2003): 498. 23 Geffr~, "Double Belonging," p. 102. 24 Phan, "Multiple," pp. 498 and 504. 2s Jacques Dupuis, "Christianity and Religions: Complementarity and Convergence," in Many Mansions? p. 64. 26 Sung-Hae Kim, "An East Asian Understanding of Mission," in Mission in the Third Millennium, ed. Robert Schreiter (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 2001), pp. 16-17. 27 Dupuis, "Christianity," p. 65. 28 See Claude Marie Barbour, "Seeking J~astice and Shalom in the City," International Review of Mission 73 (1984): 305. The Third Plenary Council of the Order (Mattli, 1978) affirmed this notion of "reverse mission" in Path of Renewal, p. 61. 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church 29 Capuchin Constitutions 84:2; see 145:3,157:4, 162:1,175:2,175:4. 30 See Leo Lefebure, "Sacred Violence and Interreligious conflict: The Background of a Tragedy," Chicago Studies 41, no. 1 (2002): 8- 25. 31 Ren~ Gerard, Violence and the Sacred, trans. Patrick Gregory (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977). 32 R. Scott Appleby, The Ambivalence of the Sacred: Religion, Violence, and Reconciliation (Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield, 2000), pp. 81- 120. 33 John Cobb, "Multiple Religious Belonging and Reconciliation," in Many Mansions? p. 25. 34 Many of these are chronicled in Luigi Accattoli, When a Pope Asks Forgiveness: The Mea Culpas of John Paul II, trans. Jordan Aumann (Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 1998). The book could not include more recent papal gestures such as the 12 March 2000 ceremony in Rome calling for forgiveness for the sins committed by members of the church, and the May 2001 trip to Athens, where the pope asked for forgiveness for sins against Orthodox Christians. 3s Robert Schreiter, Reconciliation: Mission and Miniswy in a Changing Social Order (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1992), pp. 45-46 and 52-53. 36 While John Cobb does not think that "multiple belongers" can lead the reconciliation process, I think he overlooks the iconic role of such believers in that process. See Cobb, "Multiple," pp. 26-27. 37 Dean R. Hoge, The First Five Years of the Priesthood: A Study of Newly Ordained Catholic Priests (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2002), p. 28. cloister space curves softly into silence here a solitude like trees becomes the smooth line of bench or table even the edge of longing breathes a blessing curving back into flesh and bone Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious COLLEEN VOGT Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Prayer has been described as "an exercise in dialogue with a deity that holds simultaneously great hope and immeasurable risks.''1 Christians, at least popularly, are taught to ask for what we need and to praise God for what we are given, bearing pain and pleasure just the same, as God's will. While there is, of course, value to prayer in a "Thy will be done" stance, we lose much if we cannot hold God accountable for our suffering as our Israelite ancestors did. Walter Brueggemann articulates well this "costly loss of lament." 2 This paper addresses a loss of lament and suggests that lectio divina can show how one might "inhabit the psalms of lament,''3 in particular Psalm 69, and thus enter into dialogue with God while feeling pain and anger. Costly Loss of Lament Much in today's world calls for lament: violence and war, our complicity in social sin, Colleen Vogt has a graduate degree in divinity and is in ini-tial formation at Mount St. Benedict Monastery; 6101 East Lake Road; Erie, Pennsylvania 1651 I. biblical helps 64.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament slander of one another, and even petty disagreements. We need to be able to bring such laments to prayer not only in petition and confession to be rid of them, but also from the very midst of our feelings of anger and anguish. Without lament in our prayer and worship, we live an impoverished relationship with God. We lose an element of authenticity in our prayer if we do not honestly face our faith's bewilderment at evil that still exists when God is all good and all powerful. Prophets offer us examples. Jeremiah speaks of being overpowered by God (Jr 20:7). If he does not take up this concern of his with God, he cannot grow in his relationship. Brueggemann suggests object-relations theory about mothers and their children as a parallel, but any human relationship can show this human concern for authenticity. When people feel trampled upon, they must speak up or risk not being a full person in relation to the other. As Brueggemann says, "the absence of lament makes a religion of coercive obedience the only possibility.''4 A pattern of coerced obedience is likely to think "If I am suffering, it must be God's will, and 'his will be done'" without us liking it, and in fact smothering some truth. At this point we need not become violent or abusively assertive, but we can ask for respect. Lament leads to asking questions of theodicy. By lamenting we express that all is not well with the world, that this state of affairs is changeable, and that it seems to be God's responsibility to change the situation. Just to form this thought has a benefit all by itself. Brueggemann points out that Jeremiah seems happy simply in the hope of having his say, without expecting anything to change: "You will be in the right, O Lord, when I lay charges against you, but let me put my case to you" (Jr 12:1, NRSV throughout). Jonah, however, clearly expects God to respond. He asserts that God has "cast [him] into the Review for Religious deep" and declares as an accomplished fact that God brought him back up from the pit (2:3-6). God is the one responsible for his downfall and the one who can restore him. "Deliverance belongs to the Lord" (Ion 3:9). The ancients reasoned that in a world without an evil God, and ruled over by an all-powerful God, if something is wrong it must be because of God. Speaking to God about this, or "holding God against God," is risky, but it allows one to continue.5 Otherwise, without admitting one's true feelings of lament, one could not truly express praise as a free person: "praise can retain its authenticity and naturalness only in polarity with lamentation." 6 If we admit this need for lament, how do we go about restoring it? There are a number of ways in our tradition. I suggest lectio divina as a help to inhabiting a lament psalm prayerfully. Lectio Divina Several recent books introduce lectio divina in an accessible manner. They provide slighdy different ways of prayerfully reading the Bible (or some other text). The following is an amalgamation of these sources and my own experience. Lectio: reading. What does the text say? What do the words actually say? Also, what is its literary or historical setting? One may read several translations or glance at the accompanying notes. Cross-references may provide insight into the text at hand. For those familiar with Scripture, connections may occur of their own accord. Lectio divina is not the time for more extensive research. Meditatio: meditation. One explores the text further, making room for it in our hearts. What word or phrase stands out? By focusing on short sections, we have time to mull things over. We may learn small parts by heart, to help our heart to become more involved.7 We reflect 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament prayerfully, drawing personal meaning from the text.8 We trust in the grace of God to lead us. These first two .steps are closely tied to each other and are similar to what I learned about exegesis as a theology What happens in us we trust in the gra ce of God to lead us? student. Lectio, however, is private prayer, and exegesis seeks more universal and communal insights. It is best not to double up and intermingle these two practices.9 Oratio: prayer. Once we have become familiar with the text, we are ready to relate it to our life. Perhaps the words invoke our deepest desire; they may help us find meaning in suffering. They may have reminded us of others who need our compassion. Other words, too, may come to mind at this moment in a prayerful way. Contemplatio: contemplation. Here, more or less beyond words, one sits in the presence of God. During prayer these stages are not always clearly delineated, but they have a general movement toward contemplatio. Often one reads slowly and mindfully until a word or phrase catches one's attention or tugs at one's heart. Then one pauses for a shorter or longer time. Vv'hen attention wanes, one returns to the same text or moves on.|° Lectio and a Psalm of Lament Let us now apply this to a psalm. I chose a psalm because, as a postulant in a Benedictine community, I look to know them more deeply and because the "psalms invite us to be honest." ~ They give us scriptural language to express and transform deep and dark emotions such as anger, self-righteou.sness, and sorrow. And I have come to appreciate the special relationship between the psalms Review for Religious and lectio. Bernard of Monte Cassino says, "In psalmody we speak to God, in lectio God speaks to us through the Scriptures. In the first we ask him about things, and in the second we understand the answer." 12 Lectio/Meditatio I put these two steps together to bring some exegesis to the prayerful reading, for it can provide enrichment. When one has great familiarity with Scripture, a kind of exegesis arises spontaneously in prayer, but beginners can use help in making connections and understanding the psalms' literary style. In Psalm 69 there are many graphic images: "waters have come up to my neck," more enemies "than the hairs of my head," poison and vinegar for food and drink, and enemies "blotted out of the book of the living." These give readers pause and invite them to react. The images of distress may stir compassion for the psalmist or a memory of having felt like that. One may think of examples of unjust sufferers: prophets of the gospel, persons falsely accused of crimes, the church itself, or Jesus, the ultimate innocent suffering servant. The strong curses may evoke immediate resistance because Christians should "love your enemies"--or perhaps agreement with the vindictive sentiment as personal enemies come to mind. But any of these reactions may signal that God is trying to say something to our heart. The reactions may be invitations from God to go deeper. They may suggest that we pause and ponder. What is God saying through this text? Alternate translations may help. The words quoted above from the New Revised Standard Version are almost the same as those in the New American Bible, except that "poison" becomes "gall." Are there cross-references provided for this text? This is, in fact, the psalm most quoted in the ~4.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Cursing enemies is a difficult_.th ei one with which many modern ,Christians are uncomfortabie. What is my res ponse? New Testament.13 "Gall and vinegar" appears in the Gospel accounts and in Romans 15:3 and Hebrews 11:26. Verse 25 about a camp made desolate is used in Acts 1:20 to refer to Judas. Revelation 3:5 mentions "the book of life" of verse 28 (and elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures). Seeing the psalmist's words reinterpreted on Jesus' lips in the Gospels or used in explaining theological concepts in Paul's letters brings new levels of meaning. Christological interpretation of the psalms is very much a part of the patristic tradition. Biblical notes and commentaries offer background information on several phrases and themes. The "deep waters" of verse 2 suggest the chaos engulfing the earth itself along with this innocent person. In the praise at the end, even the sea, which was a threat in the beginning, offers its praise to God. The water reference could also refer to a river ordeal, a trial by water to test the innocence of a person.14 This ancient practice was revisited in European medieval and American colonial witch trials. Praise as a sacrifice or offering to God is another theme in this psalm. This usage helps scholars to date this psalm. Because verses 30-31 say that a song of praise is worth more than an animal (or grain) sacrifice, the psalm is probably exilic or postexilic; there is no temple in which to offer sacrifices.~5 Prophets and psalmists determine that God does not want animals ("Do I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?" Ps 50:13), but prefers people's obedience and songs of praise instead. Cursing enemies is a difficult theme, one with which many modern Christians are uncomfortable. The strong Review for Reli~ous words are frequendy omitted from the lectionary cycles even when the rest of the psalm appears. They are sometimes excised from communal prayer. But it is important to understand this literary device in its context. Hebrew is a particularly metaphoric and graphic language. Though desires for punishment are certainly expressed, the words are not all meant literally,16 nor are the psalmist's words a decree of punishment--this is no vigilante justice seeker. In the Israelite understanding, the curse was only to be effective upon God's judgment that the person was indeed guilty. This was helpful to Israel as a people without a modern justice system as we know it. This is the reasoning behind trials by ordeal. If God finds guilt in someone, he or she will die. This practice is not in accord with modern thought and sensibilities, but, in many cases, allowing God to do the punishing is an idea needed as much today as ever. Many a lawsuit or personal vendetta might be prevented if those involved brought their laments to God and left the case in the hands of divine justice. Another relevant aspect of cursing is that there is indeed evil in the world that needs to be exorcized. Though the Israelite understanding did not easily distinguish between the sin and the sinner or between the individual and the community, we can take a cue from the psalmist and curse the sin, asking God to purify this blot in our community. We can curse an evil on behalf of those who cannot, namely, the victims who have been so dehumanized that they can no longer pray themselves.17 Claus Westermann has noted the following elements in biblical laments: address or introductory petition, lament, turning toward God (confession of trust), petition, and vow of praise.~8 We see them to some extent in this psalm. "Save me, O God" invokes God in verse 1. Then there is a long lament to God over the psalmist's 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament 44 situation: false accusations, desertion by friends and family, ridicule for religious practice (vv. 2-12). There is a confident petition to God for help (vv. 13-18). "Answer me, rescue me, let me be delivered," verse 13 cries out. After more lamenting about his sorry situation (vv. 19- 21), the psalmist expresses a desire for God to punish his enemies (vv. 22-28). This cursing is especially graphic and invites us to admit our own inner violence. A final petition for salvation in verse 29 makes way for a song of praise that calls all the earth to praise God (vv. 30-36). This praise ends the mood of sadness and vindictiveness and moves the psalmist to trust that God will make salvation known by vindicating him in the here and now. Westermann offers another helpful observation. Three subjects or characters have a part in many of the lament psalms: God, the psalmist, and the enemies. Westermann traces the history of the lament psalms by noting the balance between the three subjects. Accusations against God become more and more subtle, perhaps representing a trend like the one we know today of being hesitant to accuse God. As this is. a later psalm, the small accusation against God in verse 17 is couched in restrained terms: "Do not hide your face from your servant"--words that hint that God be not silent or absent.~9 This close and prayerful reading of the psalm helps us see how others prayed this psalm in the past. We understand the situation and the words and phrases better, sharing in the tradition. But we do this in order to communicate with God better, and so we turn now to oratio and contemplati0. Oratio Looking again at the text, we pray it with new eyes and a new heart. Perhaps, by God's grace, we are inhabiting the psalm, or perhaps the word dwells in us. Review for Religious God spoke to us as we came to understand the psalm more deeply. Now we speak to God as we understand our own relation to the psalm. We pray as the innocent sufferer, declaring anger at God (a little) and at enemies and problems (a lot). We trust in God to restore our fortunes, sure that it will happen. We may repeat our prayer, perhaps going deeper. More understanding may come, or more earnest petition. At some point this dialogue is finished, and we are left without words, or "we read under the eye of God until the heart is touched and leaps to flame.''2° Contemplatio We may image contemplation as gazing at God or just being in God's presence.21 No deep searching of our own into the text can force this. Our reflection on the text is mere preparation, tilling the soil and watering the seeds. It is God who brings forth the fruit of the land and the fruits of contemplation. We move forward, changed by this encounter with God through the word of God. We ha~e followed the traditional lectio model for expressing and transforming deep emotions. By inhabiting the words and the world of the psalmist, we are brought into relationship with our tradition and with God. We go forward by witnessing to the Word as committed Christians, in a stage one writer calls operatio.22 Notes ~ Samuel E. Balentine, Prayer in the Hebrew Bible: The Drama of Divine-Human Dialogue (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), p. 168. 2 Walter Brueggemann, "The Costly Loss of Lament," in his The Psalms and the Life of Faith (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995). 3 Michael JinkJns, In the House of the Lord: Inhabiting the Psalms of Lament (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998). 4 Brueggemann, "Costly Loss," p. 104. 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament s Balentine, Prayer, p. 146. 6 Claus Westermann, Praise and Lament in the Psalms, trans. Keith R. Crim and Richard N. Soulen (Atlanta:John Knox Press, 1981), p. 267. 7 Mariano Magrassi, Praying the Bible: An Introduction to Lectio Divina, trans. Edward Hagman (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998), p. 109. 8 Thelma Hall, 7bo Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 9. 9 Michael Casey, Sacred Reading: The Ancient Art of Lectio Divina (Liguori, Mo.: Triumph Books, 1996), p. 80. 10 Charles Cummings, Monastic Practices (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1986), p. 8. 11 Elizabeth Canham, Praying the Bible (Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 2001), p. 33. 12 Quoted in Columba Stewart, Prayer and Community: The Benedictine Tradition, Traditions of Christian Spirituality, ed. Philip Sheldrake (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1998), p. 34. 13 Carroll Stuhhnueller CP, "Psalms," in HarperCollins Bible Commentary (rev. ed.), ed. James Mayes (HarperSanFrancisco, 2000), p. 420. 14 John Kselman and Michael Barrd, "Psalms," in New Jerome Biblical Commentmy (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1990), p. 537. 15 Kselman and Barrd, "Psalms," p. 537. 16 Stuhlmueller, "Psalms," p. 420. 17 Stuhlmueller, "Psalms," p. 420. is Westermann, Praise, p. 170. 19 Westermann, Praise, pp. 169, 170, and 181. 20 Dom Marmion, cited in Hall, 7b0 Deep for Words, p. 44. 21 Hall, 7bo Deep for Words, p. 9. 22 Mario Masini, Lectio Divina: An Ancient Prayer That Is Ever New, trans. Edmund C. Lane (New York: Alba House, 1998), p. ix. Prayer / Reflection Let us use the fourfold traditional approach of reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation as we enter into Psalm 69. Review for Religious In the Spirit of Psalm 69 Come and save me, O God, for the floodwaters rise, and my body has sunk in the depths of the mire; There is no footing left in this bottomless pit, which keeps dragging me under to make me expire. I am wearied from weeping and crying aloud, and my throat has dried up like a desert of clay, And my eyes swollen shut are consumed by my tears, while I wait for the Lord and continue to pray. They are numerous, more than the hairs of my head, they who hate me, unjustly, insisting I die; They are many and mighty, who force me to pay what I never did steal, which they claim, but they lie. O my God, you have known all my follies and sins, for my guilt I have never concealed from your sight; I admitted my faults and confessed them to you, and for these you have punished me, that is but right. But that they who have trusted in you, O Lord God, should be shamed, and through me, how could that ever be? How could they who have sought only you be disgraced? God of Israel, never permit it, through me! It was only for you that I suffered reproach, every insult and shame they could throw in my face, Like a stranger to brothers, an exile from home, by the sons of my mother cast out in disgrace. For the zeal of your house had consumed me with fire; these reproaches I bore were intended for you; When I wept for my sins and I fasted for days, those reproaches were mine, and the insults were true. I repented my ways, put on sackcloth for clothes, 64.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament and became like a fool for my sins which I grieved; How the mouths in the marketplace laughed me to scorn, and the drunkards reviled me with songs they con-ceived. But for my part, I sought only you, O Lord God! Come and favor mb now, come and answer my prayer! O my God, in your greatness, be tender and kind! Come and show me you love, show me how much you care! Let your faithfulness come to my aid even now, lest I sink ever deeper and deeper in mire; Let my enemy fail, as you rescue my life from the bottomless waters before I expire. Let the waters abate and not sweep me away; let the ocean not cover and choke me to death; Let the depths not rise up and then swallow me down, nor the grave close around me and smother my breath. Hear and answer me, Lord, in your bountiful love, all the mercy and goodness befitting your grace; Turn your face to me, gently, with deepest concern; take me into your arms with your fondest embrace. Turn your face not away from your servant in need, but have pity and answer me quickly instead; Draw me closer and closer to you, O my God, as you ransom me back from the fate of the dead. You have known all my shame, my abuse, my disgrace, the reproaches which crushed me and wasted my soul; This disease has consumed me and broken my l~eart, and my spirit, now helpless, has lost all control. When I looked for somebody to comfort my pain, there was no one With mercy or pity around; Wh6n I looked for consolers to share in my grief, Review for Religiou~ there was no one who cared, there was none to be ¯ found. But they poisoned my food and they sickened my thirst, when they gave me the dregs of their wineskins to drink; May their tables be turned into deathtraps for them, their companions, the pits which they fall in and sink. May their eyes grow too dim and distorted to see, and their thighs never cease from convulsing with fear; May you pour out your just indignation on them, and in fury destroy all the things they hold dear. May their camps be deserted like desolate wastes, no inhabitants left who could live in their tents, For the one you have wounded, they wounded the more, with their slanderous stories of sins he repents. Take account of the crime upon crime they commit, lest they enter your meadow, the pasture you tend; May their names be erased from the record of life, with the just be not listed in life without end. As for me, in my pain and affliction, 0 God, be my help and my bulwark of strength from on high; Only let me sing praise to the Name of the Lord and give thanks for His glory extolled to the sky. For what pleases the Lord, more than oxen or bulls, with their horns and their hoofs, is. the praise of His Name! So, take courage, you faithful ones who are oppressed, and your heart will rejoice in the God you proclaim! For the Lord in His love hears the cry of the poor, and He never forsakes those who cry out in need; They are bound unto Him who created their lives, who has bound Himself to them, His creatures, to feed. 64.1 200~ Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Let the heavens declare it, their God is the Lord! Let the earth sing His praise for its life that He gives! Let the sea that is full of the creatures He feeds praise the Name of the Lord, their Creator, who lives! Know that God will save Zion and bring exiles home! They shall dwell in the cities of Judah restored! Know the seed of His servants inherit the land, all who love Him and trust in the Name of the Lord! Joseph E. Brown SJ, Jesus Sings the Psalms in Your Heart (1980) YO Review for Religious MATTHIAS NEUMAN The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey Tena lB sipbilreit huaasl lpilvaeyse odf a C vaatrhieotlyic o Cf hrorilsetsi ainn st hthe rpoeurg-h the centuries. In the immediate pre-Vatican II church, the Bible had little impact on ordinary Catholic spiritu-ality; Mary, the saints, and popular devotions held the dominant places. The Bible was certainly revered as a source of religious truth, and many good Catholic homes had a family Bible, but not many Catholics read it reg-ularly for their own spiritual nourishment and their rela-tionship with God. Students in my theology classes over the past twenty years--who have been mostly of the post-Vatican II generation--are amazed to learn that the Bible seldom played a direct role in the religious forma-tion of their parents and grandparents. Since the coun-cil the Bible enjoys a larger role in everyday spirituality, but usages still vary widely among Catholics. Matthias Neuman OSB last wrote for us in 1997. His address is 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. 64.1 200Y Neuman * The Role, of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey In a course called "The Documents of the Second Vatican Council," one assignment I give is to conduct a number of personal interviews, some with Catholics who lived through the years of the council and can remember the pre-Vatican II days and some with persons born after the council. A key question of the interviews concerns the role of the Bible in the personal spiritual life of the respondents. Their answers range widely, but three groups typically appear. One comprises those Catholics who still have little.awareness of the Bible, who do not read it even occasionally or consider it a guide for their own spiritual lives. (Many of these same people can make little sense of the lectionary readings at Mass.) A second group reads the Bible in a fundamentalist way. It func-tions in their lives about the same as it does in the lives of Protestant fundamentalists--as the literal source of all religious truth. Their interpretation of many passages tends to be simplistic. A third group consists of Catholics who have developed a significant and balanced practice of Bible reading. Scripture functions in their lives as a source of spiritual direction and nourishment. Other variations could be identified, but these three suffice to show what a complex situation exists among the Catholic faithful with regard to the Bible and its role in their lives. In this article I want to explore the connections between a prayerful reading of Scripture and the appli-cation of that reading to a person's spiritual life journey. My intent is to get at a number of ways in which the "meanings" in the Bible help people set and seek their spiritual goals and make practical decisions. Beginning with a historical overview of the Bible's role in Catholic spirituality through the ages, I move to the church's cur-rent teaching on Bible reading as a personal spiritual practice. In a final section I suggest some specific ways the Bible can guide a person's spiritual journey. Review for Religious The Bible in Catholic Spiritual Life through the Centuries Private Bible reading was not much encouraged throughout much of Catholic Christian history. Vatican II stands as a refreshing new beginning in this regard. Make no mistake--the Bible has always been crucial to the Catholic Christian tradition, all the way back to the 2nd century, when the various books of the New Testament began to be collected. But the Bible was usu-ally seen as the source of authentic religious truth for the church as a whole, rather than as reading material for individuals. In the liturgy the "meaning" of the Scriptures that were read or sun'g was usually "given" through the spoken word of the preacher. Personal read-ing for meaning and application seldom occurred. There were, of course, exceptions. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the Egyptian desert monks used the Book of Psalms as a "manual of conversion." The individual monks wanted their reading to effect a gradual conver-sion of their raging emotions, a principal goal of theirs. The practice of lectio divina that developed later, in cenobitic life, continued and broadened this application of the Bible to the monks' personal lives, but the prac-tice was not widespread in the church.1 A second excep-tion was the use of Scripture in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. Scenes from the Bible served as start-ing points for many of his exercises. But here again the practice was confined to limited numbers of directors and retreatants. Over the centuries, of course, personal reading of the Bible was encouraged by particular spir-itual directors. In the late 6th century, St. Gregory the Great, in his letters, often recommended the reading of Sacred Scripture to his correspondents? But these peo-ple were generally wealthy persons who could afford manuscript copies of a book or books of the Bible. This 64.1 2005 Neuman * The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey luxury precluded its use by the general populace until the invention of printing in the 15th century. Before then, not many individuals or families possessed a Bible. The cost was prohibitive. An entire parish con-gregation might have only one copy of the Sacred Scriptures (usually locked up, except for services, or chained to the lectern). When the printing press began to make books more affordable in the early 16th century, the strong connection seen between printed books and the "private interpretation" of the Protestant Reformation made Catholic leaders try to limit Bible reading while Protestant leaders--with numerous Bibles printed in the vernacular languages--encouraged the reading of the Bible by everyone. The famous Catechism of the Council of Trent or Roman Catechism (1564) made no mention at all of reading the Bible as a spiritual practice for Catholics.3 In short, good Protestants read the Bible; good Catholics did not, for it could lead to doctrinal or moral error. Another change had been gradually happening in post-Reformation Catholic circles that also moved atten-tion further away from the Bible. As Catholic leaders became increasingly concerned with "correct doctrine and teaching," catechisms became the primary ways to teach people the true faith. Moreover, since some of those Catholic teachings (on the priesthood, the seven sacraments, and the Roman primacy, for example) were not clearly apparent in the Bible itself, catechisms became the immediate basis of instruction, without, of course, claiming to replace the Bible. In the long period between the close of the Council of Trent (1563) and the opening of the Second Vatican Council (1962), Catholics were sometimes counseled against reading the Bible personally. A New Perspective The Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation Review for Reli~ous (Dei Verbum) of Vatican II stands, therefore, as a strikingly new statement of the Catholic Church. It encourages ordinary believers to read the Bible regularly for their spiritual nourishment. Chapter 6, "Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church" (§§21-26), forged a new direc-tion for Catholic spirituality. How that chapter came to be is an amazing story.4 The preliminary schema of the constitution contained warnings about laypersons read-ing the Bible. They were reminded to approach the sacred text with the church's teaching in mind and with careful preparation. They were to be ready to accept willingly any definite assertions of meaning the magis-terium made about individual passages.5 There was no mention of personal.spiritual nourishment. Two factors seem to have brought about the radical shift that occurred in the writing of this chapter of the document. The first was the comments and testimony of several Protestant observers about their own personal and communal church experiences of Bible reading and the many spiritual benefits it brought to people/The second factor was a principle from the patristic era, one that had slipped out of modern Catholic awareness, the strong parallelism between Sacred Scripture and the Eucharist. Several Catholic theologians had persuasively brought this idea to the committee's attention. In the end the drafting committee included a strong encour-agement of Scripture reading for believers' personal spir-itual benefit. This decision ranks as one of the major achievements of the council. Let us review this pivotal chapter, "Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church."7 It begins by noting that Scripture along with Tradition is the supreme rule of the church's faith (§21). But then the text goes on to assert that the word of God also serves as "strength for faith, food for the soul, and a pure and lasting fount of 64.1 200~ Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey spiritual life" (§21). This reading is for all believers. "Access to Sacred Scripture ought to be wide open to the Christian faithful" (§22). There are no restrictions. This practice is not limited to the clergy and to scholars, but is for everyone. Church leaders are to see that ade-quate translations in vernaculhr languages are available for the faithful (§22). Preachers, patristics schol-ars, exegetes, hnd catechists are to help people under-stand God's word (§23). The ordinary faithful them-selves are encouraged to pick up the Bible and read: "Let them go gladly to the sacred text itself, whether in the sacred liturgy, which is full of the divine words, or in devout reading, or in suitable programs and various other helps" (§2 5). Here the council fathers begin claim-ing Scripture reading as a spiritual practice for the Catholic Church. This section of Dei Verbum ranks among the more important of the council's pastoral decisions, because it led to many changes in the practical spiritual life of the church. Soon after the council, dioceses and publishing houses began to develop "biblical study programs" for groups and parishes. Interest in these programs ran high and gave many lay Catholics their first real familiarity with the sacred texts. Renew, the Little Rock Bible Study, the Paulist Press Bible program, and other endeavors began to make the Catholic faithful better acquainted with the Old and New Testaments as a resource for liv-ing their faith. Small neighborhood groups started meet-ing regularly to read and discuss the Bible. The spiritual How do We experience, preachers, patristics scholars, exegeteS, and catechists helping people under tand God's word? Review for Religious lives of innumerable Catholics were deeply affected by these developments. Almost thirty years after the council, the Pontifical Biblical Commission issued a document to assist such developments. Although this document, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, is intended primarily for schol-ars, it has several pages that are relevant to us.8 Its sec-tion IV, "The Interpretation of the Bible in the Life of the Church," advances beyond Dei Verbum. First, it iden-tifies a specific purpose of reading the Scriptures spiri-tually, a purpose it calls "actualization." Actualization means putting the meaning of the Bible into action as a value or norm of behavior. It is not sufficient to read the Bible and merely understand its meanings; those mean-ings must begin to make a difference in how the reader perceives, judges, and acts as a believing Christian. Second, actualization presupposes a correct exegesis (explanation) of the text, part of which is the determin-ing of the literal sense--what the historical writers intended to communicate in their time, place, and cul-ture. Rejected here is any literary theory or assumption that the only real meaning is what the text immediately means to each reader. There is, however, a recognition that every text contains more meanings than the literal one; the richness of a written text is not limited by the lit-eral sense alone.9 This richness is part of the spiritual guidance of Sacred Scripture. The document recom-mends especially the Scriptural texts used in the liturgy as excellent for both personal and communal reflection. Finally, the document promotes the ancient monas-tic practice of lectio divina (divine reading), which is "a reading, on an individual or communal level, of a more or less lengthy passage of Scripture, received as the word of God and leading, at the prompting of the Spirit, to meditation, prayer, and contemplation.''~° We have come 64.1 200Y Neuman * The Role of Scripture on tbe Spiritual Journey a long way from the wariness of pre-Vatican II days, with its warnings about the dangers of false interpretation. Applying the Bible's Meanings to Personal Life We can now proceed to three specific ways of read-ing Sacred Scripture as nourishment or companion on our personal spiritual journeys. The first way is to exam-ine and apply the large patterns and themes which the books of the Bible offer. This knowledge can guide or challenge us into new areas of faithful Christian living. Sometimes these patterns will be quite obvious, for exam-ple, Job's struggle with God's justice. Sometimes a sec-ondary book can help us get off to a good start on one or another biblical theme. Andrew Ryder's Follo~ving Christ: Models of Discipleship in the New Testament can help us discover the various ways in which the following of Christ is depicted .in the New Testament and might be pursued today.~ Afterwards we will be ready to read and understand various suggested passages of Scripture more carefully. I have used this book in spiritual-direction ses-sions; it has helped people find a pattern of discipleship that fits their own life circumstances. In Matthew's Gospel, discipleship is expressed in community building; a beginning parish minister found in that Gospel a sense of direction for his spiritual jour-ney. Luke's Gospel sees discipleship more as an individ-ual stance in a large society; a young adult new to a large city reflected and prayed over that Gospel as a welcome way of maintaining strong faith in an unfamiliar setting. Another example of large Scriptural patterns guiding people's faith would be the contrasting Christologies of the Gospels of Mark and John. For those with too "divine" an image of Jesus, reading Mark slowly and meditating on its descriptions of Jesus' weaknesses and struggles can help towards appreciating the full down-to- Review for Religious earth humanness of Jesus (3:20-30; 6:1-6; 7:14-23; 8:16- 21; 11:12-21). On the other hand, John's Gospel will definitely strengthen people's view of the divine nature of Jesus and his mission (1:1-18; 5:1-47; 6:35-58). Various attitudes toward "law" are reflected in the writings of Paul and Matthew. For people struggling to overcome a paralyzing sense of law, Paul's letter to the Galatians high-lights Christian freedom, especially 5:13-26. That passage was of great importance in my own spiritual maturation as I began theology studies. On the other hand, peo-ple who need a deeper appreciation of the place of law in Christian life can benefit from sustained reflec-tion on the Gospel of Matthew (5:17-20; 12:1-13; 15:1-14; 19:16-24). Sometimes struggles dealing with anger, espe-cially towards God, are a problem. Reading the sections of Jeremiah called "Jeremiah's confessions" (11:18-12:6; 15:10-21; 17:14-18; 18:18-23; 20:7-13; 20:15-18) assist people to see how anger can change into improved prayer. One advantage of large Scriptural patterns and var-ious contrasts is that they can help Christians to be more sensitive to the differences in people's spiritual lives. Today many legitimate spiritualities exist in the church, many ways of actualizing the gospel in one's life. Instead of acting like competitors, all can benefit from a healthy exchange of ideas and practices. To acknowledge and cel-ebrate these differences and similarities remains an ongo-ing challenge for everyone in our variously pluralistic church. 64.1 2005 Neuman * The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey A second method of reading the Bible personally uses individual passages as answers to personal questions or as directives for daily living. Christian history provides many examples of this. In late-3rd-century Egypt the young man Anthony, hearing in church the words "If you would be perfect, go sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:21), took them as addressed directly to himself. Thereupon he sold his many belongings and took up the life of an ascetic. Over a century later another famous African, Augustine of Hippo, torn by internal turmoil, picked up Paul's Letter to the Romans and read: ". not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts" (13:13-14). He describes its effect on him: "At once, with the last words of this sentence, it was as if a light of relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart. All the shadows of doubt were dispelled." 12 This method is often used in modern Catholic retreat practice. Individuals or groups are assigned a passage for them to reflect on and pray over, listening for how it "speaks" to them. The contemporary spirituality movement Focolare makes a monthly practice of reflection on a specified Bible passage. Some potential problems with this method need to be addressed. People may take the ideas that come from these passages as special divine messages, divine answers to some difficulty of theirs. Such interpretations need to be balanced with other factors: discussion with a spir-itual director, prayerful reflection, practical "testing," and so forth. People need to be cautious of "absolute" interpretations, taking them as God's direct inspiration. Some of Benedict Groeschel's guidelines for evaluating "private revelations" would apply: (1) Keep all claims of Review for Religious revelations in perspective; (2) no private revelation comes directly from God and therefore none can be assumed to be inerrantly true; (3) a private revelation by definition is personal and therefore must be carefully applied and must never be considered an infallible guide in any sit-uation.~ 3 Still, this use of Scripture can be beneficial. Biblical quotations often grace calendars, diaries, and notebooks. Using them as thoughts for the day or week or month can be a helpful spiritual practice. A third method of using the Bible for personal spir-itual nourishment is lectio divina. For years lectio divina was seen as a uniquely monastic spiritual practice. In recent decades it has come to be used widely in the church. The document mentioned earlier, The Interpre-tation of the Bible in the Church, encourages all Catholics to consider lectio divina as a way of reading the Sacred Scriptures.~4 The lectio divina of the monastic tradition differs from "spiritual reading," as a practice of the 16th and 17th centuries came to be known. Spiritual reading has meant a "set time" for reading a variety of religious books. Its primary purpose is religious information. Lectio divina means an in-depth reading of the Scriptures that challenges readers to personal conversion. The text is read slowly, more than once, and its meanings are mulled over in an effort to see their application to one's life. Lectio divina demands unbiased and receptive read-ing. It demands prayer and concentration. Focused atten-tion demands discipline of body and mind, and one prays for honesty, openness, and insight and for the grace to bring them into one's daily practice. The Bible has always been the favored material for everyone's lectio divina, but that does not mean it is an impersonal generic record. The books of the Bible are the word of God, but also are the faith accounts of real men and women, and so lectio divina is a unique form of 64.1 2005 Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual :yourney listening. The reader continually asks: What do these particular words coming down to me from these partic-ular people say to me? Those spiritual experiences are allowed to challenge my own. My faith is confronted with the faith of another, and in that encounter I may glimpse my own need for conversion. As I read St. Paul's words to the Philippians, "I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying in every one of my prayers for all of you" (1:3), I am led to explore thank-fulness in my own life. How often do I thank God, even for my best friends? How often do I pray for them? At this point we have arrived at the heart of lectio divina. By these questions in this context, the Christian feels hap-pily invited once again to conversion; God's grace to change for the better is there. A succession of such moments becomes a conversa-tion between the Christian and the Lord, a loving inter-change between ourselves and the Mystery of God, mediated by the faith-filled words of the Bible. Many use the daily lectionary passages for their lectio. In any case this conversation with God should be continued day by day. In it we will find ourselves noticing our motives, the effects our attitudes and actions are having on our-selves and others, and the shape our hopes and dreams are taking. The Second Vatican Council blazed a fine trail for Catholic spirituality by encouraging more reading of the Bible. Many have been following it with enthusiasm, but much remains to be done. The Bible and its many stories and poems of faith have the potential to guide people's faith life amid today's formidable challenges to it. Many need to become more aware of how much they need this treasure trove of Christian tradition for their own peace and happiness. The council says it well: "Such is the force and power of the word of God that it can serve the church Review for Religious as her support and vigor, and the children of the church as strength for their faith, food for their soul, and a pure and lasting fount of their spiritual life" (DV §21). Notes ' Michael Casey, Sacred Reading: The Ancient Art ofLectio Divina (Liguori, 1995); Matthias Neuman OSB, "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," Review for Religious 36, no. 1 (January 1977): 97-110. 2 Peter Brown, The Rise of Western Christendom (Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers, 1996), p. 137. 3 [Addressed to pastors of parishes, the Roman Catechism (1566) does, however, cite explicitly about a thousand short Scripture pas-sages throughout--somewhat like the references made on pp. 59-60 above--and quietly weaves another thousand biblical allusions into the discourse. There are some twenty-five pages explicidy devoted to prayer and eighty-five more pages on the Our Father, all of them laced with Scripture. Ed.] The ten-year-old Catechism of the Catholic Church devotes eight pages specifically to the importance, place, meaning, and use of Scripture in the church (CCC §§101-141) and seventy-five pages to prayer (§§2558-2865), with considerable Scripture weaving in and out and the Our Father given pride of place as in the Roman Catechism. 4 Stanislas Lyonnet SJ, "A Word on Chapters IV and VI of Dei Verbum: The Amazing Journey Involved in the Process of Drafting the Conciliar Text," in Vatican 11: Assessments and Perspectives, ed. Ren~ Latourelle, Vol. 1 (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 187. s Lyonnet, "Word," pp. 198-199. 6 Lyonnet, "Word," pp. 178-179. 7 Texts of Dei Verbum are taken from Vatican Council 1I: The Conciliar and Post-Conciliar Documents, Vol. 1, ed. Austin Flannery OP, rev. ed. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). s Pontifical Biblical Commission, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church (Washington: USCCB, 1994; also in Origins 23, no. 29 [6 January 1994]). 9 This issue is dealt with in detail by Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, The Revelatory Text, 2nd ed. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, Michael Glazier, 1999). See especially pp. xxx-xxxiv. ,o Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, p. 38 (IV.B.2). II Andrew Ryder, Following Christ: Models of Discipleship in the New Testament (Franklin, Wisconsin: Sheed and Ward, 1999). 64.1 200Y Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey ~z Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 153 (Book 8, no. 29). ~3 Benedict Groeschel CFR, ,'I Still Small Vo#e: /1 Practical Guide on Reported Revelations (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993). ~4 The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, p. 38 (IV.B.2). Prayer Litany to the Holy Spirit Come, Spirit of wisdom, and teach us to value the highest gift. ---Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of understanding, and show us all things in the light of eternity. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of counsel, and guide us along the straight and narrow path to our heavenly home. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of might, and strengthen us against every evil spirit and interest which would separate us from you. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of knowledge, and teach us the shortness of life and the length of eternity. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of godliness, and stir up our minds and hearts to love and serve the Lord our God all our days. ~Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of the fear of the Lord, and make us tremble with awe and reverence before your divine majesty. --Come, Holy Spirit. -Viterbo University-Book of Prayers Review for Religious FREDERICK E. CROWE Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises In the Second Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, the grace I ask for in the third prelude of the first contemplation (on the incarnation) is an intimate knowledge of the Lord that I may love him more and follow him better (§104).1 That establishes a pattern. In the next exercise (on the nativity) I make the same petition in the same form (§113). And so throughout the Second Week the grace I ask for is always the same, and is asked for in the same form.2 The aim is to know Christ and so to love him. This is in full harmony with the point that the actions of Christ we have been contemplating were performed for me; the Lord's nativity and all of his sufferings leading to his death on the cross were undergoneJbr me (§116). Love follows on knowledge: to know such self-sacrificing love calls for a return of love. Frederick E. Crowe SJ, a contributor to our pages in 1994, 1999, and 2004, is editor of The Collected Works of Bernard Lonergan. His address is Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario M4Y 1P9; Canada. making connections 64.1 2005 Crowe * Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises The order from knowledge to love not only stands to rea-son and appeals to our common sense; it is also thoroughly Thomist, possibly reflecting what Ignatius learned at the University of Paris. At any rate, he could easily find this doc-trine in St. Thomas and make it his own. The will, Thomas holds, is a faculty that follows the direction of intellect. Few doctrines of his seem better established than that.3 Its position in Thomist thought is further solidified by its role in Trinitarian theology: as will follows intellect, as decision fol-lows understanding, so the Holy Spirit proceeds from the divine Word.4 No doubt the doctrine is true, central, and important, but it is not the whole truth, nor does Thomism exclude other ways of thinking on this question. One other way, especially, is nowadays coming to the fore. In current literature we repeatedly find a quotation attributed to Pascal: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know," and there has been a growing movement to explore those reasons of the heart that are not reasons in a strictly cognitional sense, and do not depend on prior knowledge. There even is a kindred doctrine in Thomas: what he calls knowledge by connaturality. The context for Thomas was the question whether wisdom resides in the intellect. In response he says that wisdom implies a rectitude of judgment, and that this rectitude can be had in either of two ways: either through the full use of reason.or through a certain connaturality with the matter under judgment. Thomas gives an example. In regard to chastity one person may have right judgment through moral science, but another person who has the habit of chastity may have right judgment through a certain con-naturality with the matter to be judged,s If we turn to Lonergan, we find him remarkably reticent on knowledge by connaturality, at least on knowledge so termed: it is missing from the indices of most of his major works. There is, however, a mention in a late lecture, where Review for Religious he says, "God's gift of his love is the cause of our knowledge of God by connaturality," and adds a reference to Aquinas.6 There is also his interview, again late in life, with Pierre Robert, where Robert brings up for discussion "knowledge of God by connaturality" and Lonergan responds: "[The knowl-edge of God by connaturality] comes about through charity. No created being provides a solid analogy (St. Thomas). There is an order: a wisdom that is sapita (savory) introduces an enlightened goodwill, which yields good practical or theoret-ical judgments.''7 But let us, like good Thomists, avoid slavery to words. Under another heading Lonergan has a full doctrine of his own that achieves the same purpose as knowledge by connaturality, that in fact includes in other terms both knowledge by connaturality and the usual Thomist order. And, because the unity of this twofold pattern could become such an important theme in the science of our spiritual life, and possibly in our practice of the Spiritual Exercises, I will try to Lonergan sees two patterns ff advance in human development, describe it in more detail and in simpler language. The thought of Bernard Lonergan may not be the simplest, but I am familiar with it, and it has the advantage of being a real fac-tor in his spirituality and his theology. The Two Ways of Human Development Lonergan sees two patterns of advance in human devel-opment. 8 I propose to see them first in their unity and con-trast, and then take each by itself. There is a movement from below upwards: from experience through understanding and judgment to decision and the commitment of love, and this is the order of the Ignatian Second Week. But there is also a process from above downwards: from love through commit- 64.1 2005 Crowe * Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises 68 ment and judgment to understanding and enriched experi-ence. This second process gives us knowledge resulting from love, knowledge by connaturality, and it is the more funda-mental and the chronologically prior process. I believe that these two ways of development have much to contribute to a science of Christian spirituality. Do they relate also to the Spiritual Exercises? That is an intriguing question, and the pursuit of an answer is the main task of this essay. We must therefore take a closer look at Lonergan's doc-trine on each of these two ways. The Way from Below Upwards First, the order from below upwards: from experience through understanding and judgment to decision and the com-mitment of love. One simple way to see this "ordinary" way, in its elements and in their coherence, is to think of the "lev-els" of activity in a court case. There are witnesses who bring their experience to the case: what they saw, what they heard, and any relevant experience they had. There are attorneys, at least two of them, with their two different explanations of what the witnesses described; they represent the level of understanding. But understanding is a fickle instrument in the search for truth, and so, third, there are the members of the jury, who have to decide on the truth of the matter: Which attorney is right? Is the accused guilty or innocent? Finally, there is the judge, who not only presides over the whole oper-ation, but must take action, imposing an appropriate sentence or declaring the accused flee. This pattern of four steps, so sharply outlined in a court case, can often be observed in the give-and-take of family life, though there it is obscured by the chaotic flux of conversation. Somewhat more systematic than conversation and less sys-tematic than legal proceedings, this is the pattern we follow in the Second Week. We interrogate the witnesses in the way Ignatius describes: What are they saying? What are they Review for Religious doing? and so on (§107). In this way we come to understand and know our Lord better and, in response, to choose to love him and take appropriate action. In the words of the First Week, anticipating the response of the Second, what have I done for Christ? what ought I do for him? (§53). The Way from Above Downwards The way from below upwards is only half the picture. As time went on and the tableau of the two ways of development became a regular reference in Lonergan, the way from above downwards emerged more and more clearly as the way most of us live our lives. Its beginning is found in children, maybe even more than in adults. It coheres with the role of love in religion and theology. It descends from the gift of God's love through religious conversion to moral conversion, and per-haps-- though this step is more academic than spiritual-- through moral to intellectual conversion. The process from above downwards, thus briefly indi-cated, is not spelled out as fully as the way from below upwards, and so for an integral picture I have to piece together remarks from various places. My procedure is similar to what I believe prospectors for gold do: panning for nuggets and discarding the sand (though the "sand" may in this case have its own value). Lonergan starts as always with the gift of God's love. On our side there is the transformation of falling in love. One no longer is one's own. A life has begun in which the heart has reasons which reason does not know. A new world has opened up. In some kind of analogy, perhaps a rather distant one, this applies also to the Lord Jesus. We have to think of him "as developing from below as other human beings and from above on the analogy of religious development.''9 Here is a sweeping view of the process. Children are born into a cradling environment of love. The process begins in the affectivity of the infant, the child, the son or daughter, 64.1 200y Crowe ¯ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and ttse Spiritual Exercises ¯ 7o the pupil, the follower. On this affectivity rests the child's apprehension of values; as educators know, values are caught, n6t taught. On these apprehended values, belief rests. On belief follows the growth in understanding of one who has found a genuine teacher and has been initiated into the study of the masters of the past. Then, to confirm one's growth in understanding, comes experience made mature and percep-tive by one's developed understanding. One can recognize these terms as fitting into one or another o~: the four levels of human activity, but note that the experience at the end of the way down is not identical with the experience at the start of the way up. The experience at the start is rather raw material, but at the end of the circle it is experience "made mature and perceptive by one's developed understanding." Implications are many. One is the role of community. It is all-important in this process that we are born into and develop and live out our lives in a community, that our insertion into community and history includes an invitation to accept the natural process of development. In that process one belongs to a hierarchy of groups and so owes allegiance to one's home, to one's country, to one's religion. Through the traditions of the group, one is "socialized," finding that one's home is an exist-ing society. One is "acculturated," learning and accepting the values of one's group. One is "educated" to become in time a fully inserted member of the tribe or clan, and eventually a participant in the modernity that each generation must create for itself and for its posterity. (The trio of words in q~otation marks recurs over and over in Lonergan.) There are further implications. Of special impo~tfince is the healing factor. The transformation of falling in" love (domestic love, human love, divine love) is a healing',force. Where hatred sees only evil, love reveals values. In one sweep it commands commitment and joyfully carries it out. Where hatred reinforces bias, love dissolves it. We see this in our Review for Religious Catholic history. Christianity possessed the spiritual power to heal what was unsound in the imperial domain of Rome. But it was unaccompanied by its natural complement of creating, for a single development has two vectors: one from below upwards, creating; the other from above downwards, healing. Of similar importance is the factor, already mentioned, of tradition. The community receives and adds to what it has received and hands on the tradition. In this transmission, belief plays a key role. Through belief personal experience is filled out.by reports from others, one's insights are complemented by insights of others, and one's own judgments--what one has been believing from childhood or in school or in college or in university or in the press--are formed within the context of the judgments of others. These two sources of growth (personal acquisition and belief) are not in separate compartments; the two are inter-dependent, there is a symbiosis. Both begin from infahcy. But only through the second does the first take one b~yond the earliest prehistoric stages of human development. Only through the first:is there any real assimilation and appropri-ation of the second. From the cradling environment of the infant to the professor consulting the encyclopedia, our lives are filled with trust and eventually belief. Applying the Way from Above. to the Spiritual Exercises I began my .sssay with the Ti~omist pattern, from below upwards, as seen.iri the Second Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It is a familiar pattern,, arid I need not go through it again. The application of the opposite order to the Spiritual Exercises, the process from above downwards, is, however, not so simple. 'A useful preliminary is to note a parallel between the secular and the religious, between day-to-day liv-ing and the world of revelation and faith. Here is Lonergan's position on this point. "What holds in general for self-under- 64.1 200Y Crowe ¯ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises Where the Second Week focuses on knowing and, therefore loving, the Third and Fourth Weel~s focus on communicqtion between persons already in lovei , standing in our world mediated by meaning and motivated by values holds also when that world is transfigured by God's self-revelation in Christ Jesus. The one revelation was made to many and thereby brought about a new type of commu-nity. For that community Christ prayed to his Father that 'they all be one.' It remains that a community is one not only by God's grace, but also by a consequent union of minds and hearts. Again, it remains that that consequent union can be troubled, disturbed, undergo an identity crisis; and the solu-tion to that crisis will be a common confession of faith."1° The present task, therefore, is to apply the process I have described to the Spiritual Exercises and to our Catholic spir-ituality. There are particular applica-tions, as when the rules for thinking with the church (§§352 -370) suppose the role of tradition. But what we seek here are applications within the heart of the Exercises, appli-cations built into their structure. We ask whether this contrasting position on knowledge and love is found there, either in the form given it by Pascal or in the Thomist knowledge by connaturality or in Lonergan's two ways of development. How do these ideas enter, if they do, into the Spiritual Exercises? My tentative answer is that they do enter the Exercises and in a way that considerably enhances our understanding of the Exercises. The Third and Fourth Weeks illustrate this most clearly. Where the Second Week focuses on knowing and therefore loving, the Third and Fourth Weeks focus on Review for Religious communication between persons already in love. That is, they presuppose love, love expressed in being with Christ, being with him in his suffering and being with him in his glorifica-tion. It is "being with" that matters. Whether we are with the Lord in his suffering or in his glory is secondary. What is pri-mary is that we are with him. Thus, although point six of the exercise on the Last Supper (§197) does not mention love, it is integral to love, a love that is grateful, a love that is a return of love. We are to ponder the way Christ suffers all these things on account of my sins (§ 197). The story is told of a mother who, on finishing her kitchen chores, went out to her child in its cradle on the verandah. She closed her eyes and sat there. There were loud voices next door, but she did not open her eyes t

Issue 15.1 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 19 5 6 Sisters' Re÷rea÷s~i .".'- . Thomas Dubay Novice Master and Secrecy .John R. Post Forbidden Readlncj . John J. Lynch Book Reviews Questions and Answers VOLUME XV , NUMBER 1 R ViI::W FOR Ri LIGIOUS VOLUME XV JANUARY, 1956 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS SISTERS' RETREATS--I--Thomas Dubay, S.M . 3 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . l0 SOME RECENT PAMPHLETS . 10 NOVICE MASTER'S OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY-~John R. Post, S.'J. 1 l QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Difficulty in Submitting to Superior's Will . 2. Permission to Offer One's Life to God . 22 3. Occasional Confessor of Religious Women .22 4. Permission for Private Penances . 23 5. Indulgences for Little Office of B.V.M . 24 6. Name of a Religious Institute . 24 7. Lowering Veil for Holy Communion . 25 8. Ordo to Follow in Convent Masses . 25 FORBIDDEN READING--'John 3. Lynch, S.J . 27 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 46 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 48 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 'january, 1956. Vol. XV, No. I. 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: Augustine G. Ellard, S.'J., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright, 1956, by Review for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please co~nsult notice on inside back cover. Review for Religious Volume XV January--December, 1956 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS ST. MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in ÷he CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX Sisters' Retreats l Thomas Dubay, S.M. INTRODUCTION THIS article and the others that will follow it1 deal with the results of an experimental study of retreats for religious wo-men. A summary of the purpose of the study can perhaps be given in no better way. than by reproducing the note addressed to each sister participating in th3 survey. Dear Sister : The purpose of this study is to help you to make more profitable retreats. If you will be so kind as to join hundreds of other sisters in answering this question-naire, you will be make a noteworthy contribution to this end, for it is hoped that through publication the results of this study may be made available to retreat masters. Because mere statistics are not .of themsel;ces too reliable, space is provided after the questions for your further comment. And the more comment you offer, the more you will help this study. If the space provided is not sufficient, you are urged to add pages of your own. Sittce it is your individual opinion that is so valuable, Sister~ I would suggest that you consult with no one. Further, you may be assured that your opinions will remain secret. Your Mother Superior has agreed to return all questionnaires without anybody's reading of them. And certainly I will not know you. None of your answers will be interpreted as, negatively critical and so you should feel perfectly free to state your full and frank views . May God bless your kindness! Of approximately 1300 questionnaire forms distributed to a large number of different communitiesz located in all parts of the United States, 701 were returned with answers. These 701 returns seem to represent a reasonably good cross section of the American sisterhood in age distribution, type of order, and kind of work. In respect to the 'number of years of professed religious life the respondents are distributed in the manner indicated in Table I. TABLEI: PROFESSION AGE OF PARTICIPATINGSISTERS 1-5 years . 108 6-10 years . 97 11-20 years . 173 21-30 years . 156 31-40 years. . 97 over 40 years . 66 ~Editors' Note: There will be five more articles. 2A rough estimate would place the number of distinct congregations between 30 and 50. 3 THOMAS DUBAY Review /:or Religious 2~ wide variety of occupations is likewise represented. Table II shows the kinds of work done by the sisters. TABLE II: OCCUPATIONS OF PARTICIPATING SISTERS Teaching in grade school . 230 Teaching in high school . 187 Hospital and nursing education: . . 86 Teaching in college . 79 - Domestic . 55 . Social work . 13 Home for aged . 10 Represented by numbers under ten are the following occupations: orphanages, office work, postulant or novice mistresses, public health nursing, cloistered life, and several miscellaneous offices. Nine sis-ters did not reveal their occupations. That many sisters are vitally interested in the retreat problem is evidenced both by the care with which 701 filled out a nuisance of a questionnaire and by the many appreciative messages that ac-companied their answers. These kind observations we will pass by here and commend to God for reward. Even a brief reading of the returned survey forms can leave no doubt that the sisters have been frank--sometimes bluntly frank-- both in their praise and in their blame. The excerpts that follow are statements characteristic of the sincerity, care, and goodwill with "which the replies are replete. I have tried to answer seriously and thoughtfully the various questions, and hope there is no inconsistency in my answers, or any misleading statements, dust thinking along these lines in order to answer the questions has been, in a sense, a meditation and an inspiration. Hope I haven't been too far out in left field on these answers-~but it was a good opportunity I couldn't afford to miss !--even though I just made it late to class! Father, you must be smiling or laughing at my preachy manner. But no . . . I don't presume to be saying (rather writing) authoritatively. ,Just presenting my observations, since better retreats and better retreat masters for sisters was for a number of years a special object of ~y poor prayers. In the whole course of this study, it has seemed wise to place considerable stress on the sisters' written comments for the reason that a mere statistical presentation viewed alone can be misleading. When explained by the living observation, statistics can be most enlightening and helpful. Manifestly only a fraction of all the sisters' comments can be January,. 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--l[ included in these articles, but the excerpts ~he writer has chosen are repregentative. There were so many striking statements, so many shrewd observations, so many sincere analyses Of retreat problem~, '~o. many grace-inspired kindly remarks, that, when pressed to choose "~mong them, he felt like a little boy give~n free reign in a well, Stocked candy shop. Only he had no free reign, for lack of space.:has mercilessly curtailed the number of sisters' comments reproduced in "these articles. Perhaps some future detailed stu.dy can exploit the untapped riches of their observations. Views of extreme minorities (i.e., .of one or two sisters only) are usually not represented in the written observations; for their comments, if placed next to an excerpt representing ten or fifteen sisters, would produce an imbalance in favor'of the former. These extreme views are not neglected, however, for they appear in the numerical summaries. It need not be stressed that the views of the sisters are not necessarily those of the present writer. One ~eason is that he is here interested in presenting the sisters' opinions, not his own. A second--and this one is metaphysical--is that what one sister af-firms another sometimes denies. In this connection, however, we should remember that the c6ntradiction is often merely apparent; for rarely are the sisters speaking about the same retreat master or exactly the same idea. SOURCE OF PRIESTS We sh,ll first consider the question, as to whether 'sisters prefer their retreaq masters to come from the same or different orders of men year after year. This item in the questionnaire wfiiworded as follows : As a source of re~reat masters would you prefer p~iests __always from the same order from different orders ~it makes little difference to me Further comment: (space provided) While we will give first of all in one summary a picture of the views of all of the sisters on this question, it would be a mistake to "rest content with that picture alone. There are on this point three types of situations among congregations of religious women, Some are attached to orders of men; others are not so attached' but do obtain their retreat masters from one order of men alone; and still others are not attached and do not restrict the source of retreat. m~isters to one order of men. A priori we might expect different THOMAS DUBAY Reoieu~ [or Religious reactions in the three groups to the question under discussion here. This expectation is borne out to some extent by the answers to the survey question. ]Due to the fact that no sister participating in this study was asked to identify either herself or her congregation, it was impossibl~ to distinguish in most cases into which of the three categories a given reply fell. However, a considerable number of sisters did distinguish their congregation in this general way and so some basis for a com-parison is possible. We will first give a cumulative picture of all the replies relative to this question. TABLE III: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS--ALL SISTERS Always from the same order . 148 (21.8%) From different orders . 353 (52.0%) It makes little difference to me . 178 (26.2%) As already indicated, not much can be proved from this overall picture; and so we will proceed to our breakdown. TABLE IV: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS SISTERS ATTACHED TO AN ORDER OF MEN Always f, rom the same order . 60 (62.5 %) From different orders . 18 (18.75%) It makes little difference to me . 18~ (18.75%) Here we notice a considerable deviation from the overall pic-ture. Most sisters attached to an order of men wish to receive their retreat masters from that order alone. In the~e congregations, bow-ever, there appear to be two rather strong minorities of another mind. TABLE V: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS SISTERS UNATTACHED TO ANY ORDER OF MEBNUT RECEIVING RETREAT MASTERS FROM ONE ORDER ALONE Always from the same order . 10 (11.3 %) From different orders .65 (73.0%) : It makes little difference to me . 14 (15.7 % ) Here also a noteworthy deviation from the overall picture can be seen, and that in a direction opposite to the deviation found in. the immediately preceding table. Because the two groups of sisters included in Tables IV and V almost perfectly balance each other off, the position of unattached sisters receiving retreat masters from several orders of men is fairly well "refledted in Table III, once due allowances are made. As he went through the. returned replies, .January, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--I the present writer received the impression that this third group of sisters is for the most part Well pleased with its custom, i.e., re-ceiving priests from different orders. We may turn now to the reasons the. sisters give for their various preferences. The number of excerpts given in each group is approximately proportionate to the number of preferences regis-tered in that category. Those who prefer, the same order: I prefer priests from the same order as my own because I feel that they understand my obligations better and are thus able to help me more. Our community always have the same religious for retreat masters, and there seems to be a definite continuity of purpose represented in their retreats--which is fine. I think that it is ideal to have a priest of one's own order, as he knows and has the same spirit and can lead one in one's own spirituality. A religious usually comes to appreciate what is traditional in her congregation. We always have . We have priests where I come from, and believe you me, Padre, they're "tops" ! If there are two branches of the same order--one for men, one for women--then the sisters profit greatly by having retreat masters of the same order. The retreat master then understands best the way of life through which the sisters are to reach heaven. For any sisters it would be hard to have different ways of spiritu-ality presented and urged on them by priests of various orders. Sisters preferring priests from different orders: I think they should be selected for personal ability. Many'sisters I know get tired of having the same order, as we generally do. Each order has something special, something beautiful that they follow. Knowl-edge of the various orders will not only broaden our intellectual and spiritual outlook but also make for a deeper understanding and cooperation between the orders. I prefer priests from different orders as it would give variety to the types of medi-tations given. The for instance are fine but you always know what their meditations are going to be based upon. I like to be surprised once in a while. I would not consider the order if I had a choice but would find men who were' holy and knew how to inspire others to holiness. However, when one order is always chosen, some souls will grow weary because they like change. It is possible that continued use of the same order would exhaust their supply of the "best." I like the return of the good retreat master. I have made retreats given by the same one five times and am ready for another five more. Where I was in-clined to think the order produced the individuals, I've grown older and wiser and am sure that life, life-work, and production is all an individual job. There are two orders that I like best, but because in their members I have met real sanctity. We are in spirit and have made the effort to get priests, but this is not a hard and fast rule. We have had others and they have also been excellent. THOMA'S' DUBA'Y ¯ Review ~or ~V'e would become more broadminded if we had different orders. We hav~ the same order always, but many sisters have expressed the wish for men from different orders. Some orders of retreat masters adhere to one form of presentation more or less. ¯ . . I hate to say this but sometimes the meditation becomes boresome before he really starts. ~ iCrom different orders--However,'a priest of any order should not try to instill the particular virtues, customs or religious devotions of his order. He should not adopt an attitude that his order is superior to all others. This is boring. Sometimes a change of method is good. I like it when I do not know what the next conference is about. Wl£en the retreat masters come from different orders, they have a different approach and p~attern. This is good. I believe each order has its particular talents to offer, and being human, variations ofeven the most fundamental topics are appreciated.' I have made several retreats and having had' the same order of priests conducting them, I was able to tell almost exactly what incidents Father was about to discuss and in almost the same words he used. Sisters to whom the source of priests makes little difference: I have,made retreats under priests of several orders and I find the order doesn't make much difference--it is the personal sanctity, earnestness, and understanding that counts¯ It is not the order; rather it is the personal holiness of the priest which would be an inspiration to follow. As far as particular retreat masters are concerned, it really matters little who he is, where he is from, or what religious congreg, he represents. The important thing is that he himself is a truly spiritual man, well prepared td give the retreat, en-thusiastic for the cause--the cause of Christ and the interests of His consecrated Spouses. Can love them all! and respond to all. However, I think a religious priest would understand better community problems and regulations than secular priests. The habit does not make the retreat master; it's his union with the Divine Master that makes the difference in the retreat. I believe they should be chosen for their individual capabilities, not confined to orders at all. It might be a good idea if some center could be designated "~here one could send in names to be recommended and likewise receive such information. FAI~IfLIARITY WITH CONSTITUTIONS The. next item of inquiry offered results charac.terized by a greater degree of agreement than the preceding. Dealing with the retreat master"s, familiarity with the congregation's consfitutions, the quest.ion was framed in the fo!lowi.ng words: " Do you like the retreat master to be. familiar with the Constitutions of you~ ,. congregation and refer to them in his talk~? .-~, .yes ___no ___it makes little difference Further comment: danuaCg, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--][ The vast, majority of sisters, 616 (89.0%), desire the retreat master to be well acquainted with their particular constitution.s, while an exceedingly small° numl~er, 5 (.7 %), register an opposing vote. A small minority, 71 (10.3%), do not see that a knowledge of the constitutions makes very much difference. The latter group offered the following comments on their answers: I should like the retreat master to be f~miliar with the Rule but not necessarily the specifications given in Constitutions. Retreat should be a time of spiritual deep-ening. Intei'pretation of Constitutions belongs to the religious superior. I think it is more important that he know the spirit of the congregation than the actual constitutions, for every sister can read "these latter at any time herself. If he gives me the spiritual fundamentals, I can apply thXem to my own life. ,I know the practical details of my Rule and its spirit, better than he does. Often retreat masters interpret our rules in terms of the spirit of theic institutes. The sisters holding the majority opinion have a wide variet)~ of somewhat related reasons for their view: Very definitely. You prefer someone whose foundation is sound. It doesn't help you to gain the spirit of someone else's order. If your Constitution states specific virtues, it is more helpfhl to discuss these. Every sister knows that her Rule is her way of life and she has more confidence in you if you are willing to take the time to study God's plan for her. If he isn't familiar with the Rules and practices of tl~e community, it is the better part of wisdom not to assume that this community is exactly like that community'. It loses some of the rapport when a retreat master, for example, keeps referring to. "when you say the office; now in the recitation of the office, etc." when it so happens that your community, does not say the office. Knowing that the retreat master is familiar with the Constitutions makes it easier to discuss problems in confession. It is of no encouragement to have the confessor ask one: Do you have to do that? When I ask for guidance or enlightenment, I presume the confessor to know what I have to do and tell me frankly." If he is familiar with our Constitution he will know. Interpretation by someone outside the community sometimes brings a greater ap-preciation of the rule. The retreat is more practical, and you fed as though he is interested in your com-munity and the advancement of its members in the spiritual life. That is our custom and we prefer it. 'However, retreat masters must be prudent and careful, never permitting themselves the liberty of direct or indirect criticism of an approved rule. We had that ~xperience once and the sisters resented it. This is essential, I think, if a, pplications and illustrations are to be meaningful. As members of a religious congregation our sanctification will be attained by doing God's will according to the spirit and customs of our particular congregation. What better thing could be done during retreat than to .get more deeply acquainted with them? THOMAS DUBAY .It makes us feel he takes more interest and thus gives us more confidence. Customs and traditions are important and a talk on visits home to sisters who are not permit'ted to visit home is wasted. Very definitely. I have gone through whole retreats in which the talks were geared to teaching sisters, and our whole congregation is engaged in nursing. Besides the spirit of each community is different, also the practice of particular virtues, appli- .cation of rules, etc. I think the retreat master should discuss the Constitutions beforehand with some superior or the provincial in order to be sure he applies it as intended. We may conclude from these observations that ordinarily the retreat master will do well to read over a copy of the sisters' con-stitutions before he begins to prepare his retreat. Because it is in the nature of the written word to need a living interpreter, he can also with profit seek comments and observations on community customs 'and interpretations from some one of the older sisters. 'She will ordinarily be a superior. OUR CONTRIBUTORS THOMAS DUBAY, author of The Seminary Rule, is now at the Marist Col-lege, Washington, D. C. JOHN R. POST is master of novices at Shadowbrook, Lenox, Mass. JOHN 3. LYNCH is a professor of moral theology at Weston College, Weston, Mass. SOME RECENT PAMPHI'ETS GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana The Mass: Homage to God. By Paul R. Milde, O.S.B. Pp. 28. 15 cents. dog Is Your Heritage. By John M. Scott, S.J. Pp. 45. 15cents. The Holy Man of Ars. Saint dohn Baptist Vianneg. By Dom Ernest Graf, O.S.B. Pp. 40. 25 cents. Saint Luke Paints a Picture. Our Lady of Perpetual Help. By Sister M. Julian Baird, R.S.M. Pp. 8. 5 cents. FROM OTHER PUBLISHERS Spiritual Direction. A Current Bibliography. Department of Religion, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana. Pp. 11. Padre Magin Catala. By Aloysius S. Stern, S.J. University of San Francisco, San Francisco 17, California. Pp. 20. Free on request. So You're Going to Teach Religion. By Richard R. Baker, Ph.D. George A. Pflaum, Inc., Dayton 2, Ohio. 10 cents. Time Out to Think. By Gene J. Jakubek, S.J. San-Del Printing Co., 602 :Gratiot Street, St. Louis, Missouri. Pp. 22. 15 cents. 10 Novice Masl:er's Obliga!:ions Secrecy John R. Post, S.J. A master of novices by reason of his office is made the custodian of many secrets. His young charges in asking for direction confide in him their faults and spiritual difficulties, and in so doing they lay on him the obligation of concealing these faults from others. To reveal or even t-o use this knowledge outside the limits laid down for the entrusted secret would, of course, be sinful. Yet, a master is often obliged by canon 563 to give a report to higher superiors on the conduct of his novices; and, in order to protect the order from unsuitable members, he may even desire to dismiss a novice on the basis of knowledge learned only in confidence. Can he reveal or use such knowledge with a good conscience? This ap-parent clash of obligations poses a few moral problems which the following pages will attempt to solve. It will help at the beginning if we clarify in general the position of the novice master with regard to his novices. There is more to his job than the rejection of the unfit. He must also act as spiritual director. His work, then, is not exactly the same as the doctor's who examines candidates before entrance. The doctor's work is primarily for the benefit of the order and is known as such by the candidates. Father Vermeersch remarks that a doctor who examines applicants for their physical fitness is thereby excused from the obligation of keeping his entrusted secret as far as revealing his findings to the superior is concerned. The reason given is that the boy understands this to be the purpose of the examination and implicitly gives his ~onsent beforehand to the doctor's revelation. But, if a .novice master wants to carry on as a spiritual director, such a consent on the part of his novices cannot be presumed. Human nature being what it is, he could not expect young men to confide in him their faults and failings while they know that he is free to use this knowledge for their dismissal. So, 'to maintain the confidence of his charges, he must in his many interviews with them consider himself bound by the various secrets, except in the rare cases where the commo,n good allows revelation, trusting that divine providence and his own powers of persuasion will rid the order of undesirable members. GENERAL DOCTRINE ON SECRETS A secret is some hidden knowledge belongjng.to.a person by 11 JOHN R. POST Reoiew for Religious strict right, ,which cannot be sought after, used, or revealed by an-other con.treaty to the reasonable will of the owner. Thus the ob-ligation of keeping a secret usually derives from the virtues of both justice and charity. For example, to learn from reading the incoming mail that a novice's brother is thinking of becomi~3g a priest and to reveal it before the matter has b~come public might be displeasing to the novice and hence against charity. The act would also violate justice, first, because the information belongs only to the novice and his brother by strict right, and secondly, the act breaks an im-' plicit contract with the novice to keep secret the matter of his letters. Of the four different kinds of secrets-~confessionaI, entrusted, promised, and natural--only three have a definite place in the work of a novice master. The con~:essional secret concerns the knowl-edge communicate~d to a priest in the sacrament of penance.1 The entrusted secret is one that is confided to another under a con-tract that he will not use the information without the consent and according to the good pleasure of the giver. This contract is im-plied when one goes to consult with doctors, lawyers, or priests acting in their professional capacity. The natural secret concerns something one happens upon in the life of another and which the nature of human society demands should be kept secret. All three of these secrets bind under grave sin if their revelation' would be seriously harmful. On the other hand, moralists agree that there is.no secret-~ex~ cept the confessional--which does not have its limits. The reason is that no obligation to keep a human secret is so strong that a stronger obligation to reveal it cannot present itself. In other words, when an obligation to conceal interferes with a higher good, ~t shbuld cease. This principle, however diffic[dt in practice, is gen-erally recognized in theory. The Church overrides the obligation to keep a natural secret when she asks her children, to testify to im-pediments found in future spouses and priests. Doctors, too, are sometimes obliged to report bullet wounds to the police in accord-ance with the principle that the common good at times demands exceptions even to the entrusted secret. It is certain doctrine, there-fore, that the revelation of a human secret is justified when it i~ necessary to prevent preponderant h~arm to the community, to the owner of a secret, to its recipient, or to a third party. Sometimes, too, revelation can be justified if the consent of the owner'can be 1Though canon 891 forbids the master to hear novices' confessions generally, it does allow it in certain cases. , 12 January, 1956 OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY reasonably presumed. THE CONFESSIONAL SECRET The. obligation of keeping secret whatever is known from a sacramental confession is the weightiest there is--stemming as it does from the divine law and protecting one of the most precious means of salvation. Every priest, therefore, is forbidden not only to reveal confessional knowledg,e, but even to use it in a way that would render this consoling sacrament odious or more burdensome to penitents. A novice master, for example, who knew only from confession that one novice had an aversion for another could not, without the permission of l~is penitent, use this information in making out the bands, or groups, for recreation, even though he knew it would be for the penitent's good. The reason why such use of confessional knowledge is forbidden is not merely that it might work a hardship on the individual penitent, but also that the very fact that if such use of confessional knowledge were permitted, it would be a-bur-den for penitents in general and would make confession more diffi-cult. Hence, even in a case in which the individual penitent might be pleased (e.g., because he was removed from the company of someone he found disagreeable), the novice master could not use the knowledge without express permission. One might think that the novice's permission for such changes as these could readily be presumed, but it is" the universal teaching of theologians today that permission may never be presumed for the use of confessional knowledge. The reason is again the same: if permission could sometimes be presumed, this would diminish the security the confessional is supposed to offer and thus make con-fession more difficult. During confession, of course, the master is free to advise, per-suade, and guide the penitent out of his difficulties and even to bring up m.,atter from previous confessions. But outside of confession, if be wishes to speak to the novice about confessional matters he should have permission. Such permiss!on would be implied if the novice himself took the first step by referring to matters he had confessed. Tt~tE ENTRUSTED SECRET It would seem that most of the novice master's knowledge of his charges will come under the heading of entrusted or committed secret. Because he is designated by the order as the spiritual father 13 JOHN R. POST~, . ~ . ; ~ Revieu~ for Religious 6f '.the .novices, ~there~is set up. between him and th~'m the mutual understanding that ,whatever is: confided to him will be kept hidden and~never used in any way that will jeopardize their interests. This promise or pledge.is inherent in his office; and, since the'common good not only of the novitiate, but of every community in which his novices w.ill _live depends' so much upon the confidence which they have in superiors, it is largely his duty to build up this con~ fidence in them from the very beginning. Some of the entrusted secrets are stricter than others, depending upon the channels through which they come to him, so we propose to treat them according to these several channels--secrets of mani-festation and spiritual direction, paternal denunciation and chapter -of faults, and inspection of mail. MANIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE AND SPIRITUAL DIRECTION Next in strictness to the seal of confession is the secrecy which surrounds the rhanifestation of conscience. The reason for this is that'the manifestation, like the sacrament, has for its primary pur-' pose the spiritual Progress of the one making it, and to achieve this purpose some disclosure of conscience is necessary. Slnce, then, it comes so close in its matter and purpose to the sacrament of pen-ance, this .secret, of all the entrusted secrets, should be 'held the most sacred. Nev.ertheless, except in the case where the manifestation is made ~ander the seal of confession, more latitude is allowed the master in the use of what' he hears, always safeguarding, however, the rights and ~eeliflgs of the one who makes it, and always avoid-ing anything that 'would diminish confidence in. his office. The authors'who comment on this subject say that the novice aster '}nay not reveal anything heard in manifestation, even to higher superiors, without the consent of the novice. Thus, if a master were asked by his provincial or canonical visitor whether he had n.oticed an impediment in a certain novice, and the master knew of this impediment only through manifestation, he would be obliged to answer with a polite, "I do not know," or something similar. Wl~at then, if the impediment were an invalidating impediment --for. example, the novice had once apostatized from the Catholic Church~ and joined a non-Cath01ic sect--and the novice could not be persuade.d.to.d0 anything about it? The master may not reveal the. impe.dim.ent.o He may and should instruct the novice of his se~iou.syobligation to have the impediment removed before going L4" lanuat~, 1956 OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY on; but, if the novice still refused, the mastei could neither reveal the impediment nor use. his knowledge for such things as dismiss-ing him, °or refusing to recommend him for vows, or even delaying his profession if the novice were acceptable on every other count. In matters such as-the foregoing, the secret of ~manifestation is, for all practical purposes, like the confessional secret. But when there is question merely of the spiritual good Of the novice, greater latitude would be allowed for the use of knowledge because, in some cases at least, permission to use manifestation knowledge may be presumed. The reasons for this are, first, that there is no absolute prohibition of presumed permission as there is in matter of con-fession, and. secondly, all n~vices understand that the novitiate is a time of probation where hard things will be asked of them-. More-over, in some orders novices are ins'tructed beforehand that-one of the purposes of the manifestation is to provide superiors with knowl-edge that will .help them to govern paternally, assign subjects to proper offices, guard them from temptations, etc. In strict right, then, the novice master can, unless the novice expressly forbids it. use manifestation knowledge to change his occupation, living quar-ters, companions, etc., provided that there is no danger of revela-tion and the best interests of both novice and the order are served. .But presumptions must yield to facts; so sometimes prudence may require that, before using this knowledge in a way displeasing to a novice, the master sound him out beforehand. Outside a novice's manifestation, of course, the master may speak to him irl private about sins mentioned, not in confession, but in manifestation in order to warn him or to exhort him to do better, provided that everything is kept under the same seal of secr.ecy; for these private interviews of spiritual direction partake of the nature of a manifestation. PATERNAL DENUNCIATION AND CHAPTER OF FAULTS According to Suarez, the denunciation of another's faults to .a superior as to a father is only a method of-fulfilling the, injunction of fraternal correction imposed on all Christians b) our Lo~d ih Matthew 18:15. Going on occasions to the st~perior first, instead of directly to the culprit, though a departure from the order estab-lished by our Lord, does, nevertheless, fulfill the gospel injunction substantially; for the superior, acting solely .as the instrument ,of the inforrfiant, is obliged to use this knowledge within the limits "of the informant's "ih~ention. 'Pr~siaming, then, that the-informant's JOHN R. POST Review for Religious intention is exclusively one of charity for a fellow novice, the master is obliged to act towards the delinquent as a lather, who desires ,only the correction and improvement of his son, not as a judge who, looking first to the common good, may for that end punish severely and even dismiss from the order. This being so, suppose a novice master learns from one boy that another has been speaking against the institute. Could he dis-miss the culprit or hold up his vows or give him a public penance on the strength of this denunciation alone? No, for this would be acting judiciall~l and contrary to the intention of the informant, whose only intention presumably was that the delinquent be ad-monished privately and Watched over for his own good. $o, in paternal denunciations the master is obliged to restrict his use of the denunciation to what is nicessary for the private correction of the delinquent. Can a superior reveal the matter of the denunciation to others? Not any more than is required to attain the end of the denunciation. But, if. it is necessary to tell the provincial, for example, in order to change the delinquent from one office to another, the master must warn him that this knowledge is in the paternal forum2 and cann6t be used judicially. If others have to be consulted, the same warning must be given to them and the name of the delinquent withheld. But, if it is impossible to get their advice without revealing the name, they must be bound to strict secrecy also. With regard to the use of such knowledge, the master may do whatever he judges necessary for the spiritual good o~ the delinquent short of notable injury to reputation and expulsion. Hence, he may admonish him privately, reprehend sharply, change his occupation, even though these may be repugnant to the novice. In all of this the novice master is bound under a double, secret to the informant. The first is an obligation not to use the knowl-edge contrary to his intention; the second not to reveal the name of the informant and to protect him against any harm that might be-fall him as a result of his act of charity. Both of these ard entrusted secrets. Obviously, if the fault is more serious and the intention of the informant is primarily to protect the community from an unworthy 2For a more complete explanation of the difference between the paternal forum and the judicial forum, the reader is referred to the article "Paternal Government and Filial Confidence in Superiors," by John C. Ford, S.J., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II (1943), 146-55. 16 Januar~j, 1956"'" OBLIGATIONS ~: :to SECRECY member, then, this would not be a paternal but a judicial' denunci-ation; and the master would ~be free to proceed to dismissal if he judged it wise. When it is not clear, however, what kind of denunci-ation is being made, the master must question the informant about his intention; for he would be violating an entrusted secret if he began proceedings in the judicial forum without the consent of the informant. And this consent the latter is obliged to give as often as dismissal by. moral estimate is the only way to prevent grave injury to a third party or to the community. The chapter of faults, like the paternal denunciation, is another form of paternal correction. Here a novice in the presence of the master is admonished of his exterior faults by each of his fellow novices in turn. This should be done of course out of the sincerest charity, the only motive being to improve the individual spiritually. The master's use of information learned in chapter, therefore, is governed by the same principles that were laid down for the paternal denunciation, except that, since all present have already learned of the fault, he has more freedom as far as the reputation of the sub-ject is concerned. About this exercise Father John Ford, S.J., writes, "It is not proper to use judicially material revealed therein. The fact that all novices participate in this exercise does not change the principle. But the fact that all are present is the reason why only lesser ex-ternal faults are fit subject matter for revelation in the chapter, and why it would be improper for anyone to reveal anything serious enough to warrant the dismissal of a novice. If an imprudent novice. were to reveal such a fault, all present would be bound by the secret and the master of novices would be obliged to presume that the revelation was intended as part of the exercise of fraternal cor-rection, and therefore, not to be used judicially,, for example, by dismissing the novice." THE INsPEcTION OF MAIL , The last of the secrets entrusted to a novice master are those which be learns from the inspection of mail. Since this right of in-spectioh is given to him only to help in the paternal governm, ent of souls and to protect their interior lives from harm, he may never use this knowledge for any other purpose. As Father Genicot says, "He cannot make a wider use of it, unless he, can presume the con-sent of the writer or receiver, which cannot be presumed, of course, if it would cause hardship to either one.''3 Although the subject 3Tbeologia Moralis, 3rd ed., I, p, 395. 17 ~JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious matter of letters is not usually as confidential as that in the patelnal denunciation, still both are in the paterna! forum; and their use and revelation should follow the same principles. Canon 611 denies to all superiors the right to open letters of subjects to or from higher superiors. To do so, therefore, would be to invade the natural right of the subject; and, if a letter of this kind were opened by mistake, the knowledge so acquired could not be used without injustice. SOME IMPROBABLE CASES OF ENTRUSTED SECRETS Thus far we have taken for granted that revelation of an entrusted secret was not necessary to prevent serious harm to the community or to some third party. Now, let us consider some occasions when the preponderant harm done to others by concealment might seem to.justify the revelation of such a secret, or at least its use in dis-missing a novice. First, suppose a novice master discovered in man(festation that a novice had a habit of impurity that made him unfit for the re-ligious life and that might bring great harm to the community. Could the master reveal this knowledge to the provincial with a view to the novice's dismissal, if after exhortation the novice re-fused to go? Or, could the master himself use the knowledge to dismiss the novice without revealing the cause? It might seem at first that a master of'novices could reveal such knowledge to the provincial. And he could if it were only a ques-tion of choosing between the. harm to the individual novice and that threatening the community. But a third element enters into the case in favor of concealment, and that is the element of general confidence in the institution of manifestation as such. The moral harm done to a community by a loss of confidence in its spiritual directors is so great that moralists are inclined to say that no ex-ception to the secrecy of spiritual direction should be allowed.4 And, if we consider, as we have done, how close the manifestation comes to the sacrament of confession in its matter' and its purpose, we should not wonder that, more than all the other entrusted secrets, it should share somewhat in the inviolability of that sacrament. ~A principal difficulty against this solution seems to come from an, analogy, with other entrusted secrets. Most theologians, for in~- :(Cf. Francis J. Connell, C.SS.R., American Ecclesiastical Review, March, 1953, pp. 200-201; John C: Ford, S.J., "and Gerald Kelly, S.J., ,'Theological StudieL March, 1954, pp. 83-84. 18 ~ ]anuarg, 1956 OBLIGATIONS To'SECREC~ stance, will allow a doctor, to warn a prospective bride qf he finds that her fianc~ has a contagious disease which would threaten her health and future happiness. Here is an entrusted secret which can. be revealed to protect a third party, why cannot the same be done~ '~ove? Because, though both are entrusted secrets, still the s.ecret. of manifestation is on a higher level than that of the medical secret; for the confidence which men have in their spiritual directors is both more important for the common good and also more fragile than. the confidence they have ifi their doctor.s, though both are important. For all practical purposes, therefore, the secret of manifestation should be kept almost as inviolable as that of confession. Can the novice master in the~ case above use the manifestation knowledge to dismiss the novice without revealing the secret to any-one.? Even if he had the power from the provincial, it would seem that he should forego the bare use of it for purposes of dismissal. Father Ren~ Brouillard says that, although in strict right a superior could, to avert a preponderant harm to th~ community, use mani-festation knowledge against an individual, still it would be prefer-able for reasons of prudence and discretion not to use it euen in extreme cases because this kind" of secret approaches the nature of the confessional secret; and a betrayal might easily mean the loss of confidence by'the whole community,5 Next, take a case involving a secret' learned only in paternal denunciation. One novice reports to the master that another has been the aggressor in a mutual sin of unchastity: and, when ques-tioned by the master, the culprit admits it, but says that it is the only time he has ever sinned that way and he is really con- "trite. Moreover, the master cannot persuade him to go willingly. When the master questions the informant about his intention i.n making the denunciation, he finds that it was ~nly to help the. culprit to amend. Hence, if the informant is unwilling to let the master act judicially, the master's hands are tied. The reason is that the threat to the moral health of the community or third ¯ party does not seem to be great enough to excuse from the entrusted secret, especially since other means such as exhortation and separ-. ation of the two novices can still be tried to avert the danger. But," if it were clear that the delinquent were confirmed .in a habit of unchastity with others, then the master, after using all other means,. could resort to dismissal even without, the consent of the informant; fbr the d~iinquent wou'ld in this c~se ,constitute a proportionately gRevue des comrnunautes religieuses, III (1927), 104. 19 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious grave threat to the virtue and reputation of the community. Lastly, suppose the master of novices learns through the inspec-tion of mail that one of his charges just before vows has a debt of $10,000 hanging over his head. His creditor, knowing the situa-tion, writes in his letter that he. intends to "bleed" the order for the sum after vows. The master knows of thi~ debt only through this letter and is unable to persuade the novice to leave. What he to do? In this case to protect'the order from serious harm, the master could dismiss the novice, despite his pbjections; and, if it were necessary to forestall distrust, he might even make public the reason for dismissal. Such cases, thank God, are very rare among novices, due largely to the careful examinations they go through before entrance and also to the fact that, when there is just reason for dismissal, they can usually be made to see it. But, when a case like the above does arise, the master must remember that in choosing between two evils charity always obliges him to choose the less; the two evils here being the harm to be done to the community or to a third party by his concealment, and the harm to the culprit and the institution of fraternal correction, or manifestation, c;r inspection of mail by his revelation. NATURAL SECRETS When the ordinary religious observes an otherwise hidden fault of a fellow religious, he is bound in justice and charity not to re-veal it any more than is necessary, in this matter the novice master is not like an ordinary religious. As regards his novices, he is not only a spiritual director, but also a superior. If he should find a novice engaged in some prank, he would certainly not violate justice by giving him a public penance--though he might violate charity if a private admonition were sufficient for the correction of the cul-prit and for the preservation of religious discipline. Moreover, if the fault were sufficiently serious, he could proceed to the dismissal of the novice. Novices recognize from the beginning that the master ha~ this right, for they know that they are undergoing an exam-ination by the order. A~.d just as in a scholastic examination the results can be used by the teacher to dismiss a boy from school, without any violation of a natural secret, so too in the use of this knowledge which he. acquired from personal observation the master of novices has the widest scope in which to exercise his administrative powers. 2O January/, 19~6 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS As regards externs, the novice master has the same basic duty as others to preserve the natural secret. Suppose, for instance, that he had dismissed a novice for some fault that he had observed, and later were asked by a school or a business firm for the cause of the boy:s dismissal. He would be violating a natural secret were he to reveal this fault if it would not unfit the boy for business or a stu-dent's career." The case, however, 'would be some'what different if be were asked to give testimonial letters concerning an ex-novice of his who wanted to enter another religious order, for here canon 545,n.4, makes it clear that merely natural secrets must give way to the needs of the Church. By the same token he is bound to re-veal the natural secrets of his novices when ordered to do so by his own higher superiors; and, if they are significant enough, he may include them in his regular report (can. 563). CONCLUSION To sum up, then, the master of novices must try to balance as best he can the interests of both the order and the individual soul; and, when any one of his obligations to secrecy seems to tie his hands~ let him take consolation from the words of the divine master, "Let them both grow until the harvest . . . lest while you gather up the cockle, you root up the wheat also together with it." ( ues ons ncl Answers I In my striving for perfection I find if difficult to submit to God's will by acceptlncj my superior as she. is. Her inconsistencies induce murmur-ing; her injustice provokes scandal; her partiality seems at times unbear-able. What can I do about it? Sister might do well to cultivate the habit, by reading, reflection, prayer, exercise, experience, etc., of seeing the whole matter through God's eyes, as it were, and then of feeling about it as that vision suggests. God sees the superior's imperfections, but also the good consequences that sooner or later He can draw out of them. He does not like her inconsistencies either; but He does not expect human beings to be completely qonsistent, and He will make those deviations conduce to greater good eventually. Similarly He views 21 :QUi~'~IONS"AND ANSWERS Review [oF Religio~s "her injustice and,partiality and disapproves of them; ~but they also ¯ ~re tolerated in His infinitely, wise a'nd holy' and potent designs. He '.knows that if sister shouldobey an imperfect superior perfectly, hei? ¯ obedience would be all the more excellent, and more to His glory, ,and especially to her own pleasure and gain and sanctity in" the end. She would also be more Christlike, with all the advantages ' that this likeness implies; Christ's obedience would haste been rela- ¯ tively commonplace had the powers, in His time been just what :they should have been. The malice and unreasonableness of His persecutors were His opportunity. : May. a religious, without seekln9 permission from his superior, offer his life to God, that is, volunteer to let God take his life for some special pur-pose? Whatever good there is in such an act is contained in loving God with all one's forces, or in trying to accomplish the will of God "on earth as in heaven," or in being perfect as one's heavenly Father is perfect; and very obviously no permission is required for such practices. Superiors do,not have authority in the matter of directly terminating life. Even if. they did, it would seem that one could go over their heads to the Supreme Superior of all superiors. --AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. I am a sister and a supervisor on a hospital hall. I wanted to cjo to confession. A priest of one of the ~:ify parishes had finished visiting a patient, and I asked him to hear my confession in a vacant room on the hall and also told him that I could not !eave the hall becauseof a patient. who was in a critical condition and r.equired constant attention. He kept hesltatincj and asklncj me questions. Finally he said he could~not hear my .confession outside of the confessional in the chapel. Why couldn't he? This priest, since he had jurisdiction for the confessions of .other women in the diocese but did not antecedently possess special .jurisdiction over you/ a religious woman, is. termed the occasional confessor of religious women. He could hear your confession validly .only in the legitimate place. This is the only case in which place is required .for the t~alidity of a confession. The confessions of women, including religious women, may not be heard licitly ohtside of the .confessiorial except in a case of sickness or for other reasons of about ~the same or greater import than sickness (c.,910,' § 1). If such a :reason existed, he could have heard your .confes~i0fi bdth validly danuary, 1956 ' QUESTION'S AND ANSWERS and licitly outside the confes.sional, e.g., in the room you mentioned, Examples of such sufficient reasons are those of a sister'confined~ to her room by a sickness that is not serious, deafness, a sister who wishes to go to confession but cannot leave a patient, the probable danger of, a sacrilegious confession or Communion, the probable danger ofserious infamy or scandal, of gossip in the community, or shame or fear with regard to going to the confessional. The prudent and at least probable judgment of the confessor of the sufficiency of the reason for hearing the confession outside the confessional is all that is required. Regatillo gives what appears to me to be a very sound practical norm of action for a confessor when he is requested to hear the confession of a religious woman outside the confessional and the sufficiency of the reason is not immediately clear to him. The confessor is to indicate the prohibition of hearing a confession in this manner except for a sufficient reason; but, if the religious woman insists, he may hear the confession outside the confessional Any .precautions prescribed by the local ordinary on the confessions of women outside the confessional are to be observed. A sufficient reason existed in this case, and the confession could therefore have been heard both validly and licitly outside the confessional. Cf. Regatillo, Institutiones Iuris Canonici I, 355; De Carlo, De Religiosis, n. 172, 5 ; Genicot-Salsmans, Theoloqia Moralis, II, Ed. 17, n. 319. Our constitutions read: "In ~he practice of ordinary private corporal mortifications and penances, the sisters are to be directed by the judcj-ment of the confe'ssor alone; for external and public acts they must have also the permiss~ion of the local superior." I am a mother provincial, and I have a sister who is practicin9 private penance with the consent of her confessor in a way that is injurious to both her physical and mental health. Are her local superior and I simply powerless to do anything? This article of the constitutions is to be interpreted according to the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions. Accord-ing to this practice, the permission of a confessgr or spiritual director suffices for private acts of mortification and penance. A superior may" also grant this permission. It is more prudent tb consult one,of these, especially for habitual acts; but permission is not o~ obliga-tion unless this obligationqs stated in the laws or customs of the institute. For public acts, i.e., those dbne in the presence of at least a good part of the community, such as the community penanc~'s ~ir~ the refectory, the permission of the superior is necessary, rail su- QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew [or Religious periors also have the right of vigilance, over private acts and may moderate or forbid such acts, even if permitted by a confessor or spiritual director, when they create a danger to health, religious discipline, or the work of' the institute. All such matters of their very nature fall under the government of superiors, e.g., the care of the health of subjects is not only a right but also an obligation of superiors. --S-- In our community we have always recited the Little Office of the B.V. M. in English. Do we cjain ÷he indulcjences granted for the recitation of this office? The indulgences are listed in the Raccolta, n. 318. Can. 934, § 2, enacts that the indulgences attached to prayers may be acquired by .reciting the prayers in any language, provided the translation is approved. The Little Office of the B. V. M. is an exception to this norm, since the Holy See has declared that for the gaining of its indulgences this office must be recited in Latin when the reci-tation is public but may be recited in the-vernacular when the recitation is private. The Holy See has also defined private recita-tion in this matter. "The recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. is still to be held as private although done in common within the confines of the religious house and even when done behind closed doors in a church or public oratory attached to the house." (Acta Sanctae Sedis, 40 [1907], 187-88.) The common or choral reci-tation of the office by sisters is within the confines of the religious house, since it is done in the semipublic oratories of convents. If exceptionally a community Should recite this office in a church or public oratory attached to the house, the doors are considered open only when the public is admitted generally or indiscriminately, not when a few determined persons are allowed to enter. There-fore, not only the individual but also the choral recitation of this office in the houses of religious is to be considered~ private and, if done in the vernacular, sufficient for the indulgences in either case. Cf. Beringer-Steinen-Maz0yer, Les Indulgences, I, nn. 206, 756; De Angelis, De Indulgentiis, n. 92; Heylen, De Indulgentiis, 67; Battandier, Guide Canonique, n. 272. Is ÷here any law of the Church on the name or title of a religious insfi-÷ufe? This legislation is found in can. 492, § 3, which prescribes that 24 danuar~l, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS new.congregations may not assufiae the name of any religious in-stitute already established. It is sufficient that the flame be somewhat different, e.g., Sisters of St. 3oseph of Cluny, Sisters of St. doseph of Newark. The title or name of the congregation may be taken from the attributes of God, the mysteries of our holy faith, some feast of our Lord or the Blessed Virgin, the saints, or the special purpose of the congregation. The name should not be artificial nor should it express or imply any form of devotion that is not ap-proved by the Holy See. If I may presume to add anything to this law and practice of the Holy See, I would suggest that the name should not be unduly long; and I would emphasize this suggestion even more for the names of provinces and especially of houses. --7-- Is it a fact that the Holy See stated that sisters are not to lower their veil before or after receiving Holy Communion.7 Some communities have stopped doing so; others still do it. I have no knowledge of a published statement of the Holy See directly on this practice. The S. Congregation of the Sacraments did say: "When Holy Communion is being received, all those things are to be avoided which create greater difficulty for a young person who wishes to abstain from Holy Communion, but in such a way that his abstinence will not be noticed" (Bouscaren: Canon Lau; Di- _ gest, II, 214). It can also be held that the same principle is implicit throughout this instruction, which treats of daily Communion and the precautions to be taken against abuse. It would be more in the spirit of this instruction to eliminate the practice. Even prescinding from the instruction, I see no good reason for the retention of the practice. It is also the cause at least of wonderment to small children when done in church. The same lack of reasonableness is to be predicated of an unna.turally slow pace in approaching the altar rail or in returning to one's place in the chapel or church. Like the rubrics of the Church, other practices should express reverence in a natural manner. --8-- I am a religious priest and,regularly say the community Mass in a con-vent. May I never say the Masses of my own institute? Convent chapels are semipublic oratories? The principal semi-public oratory is tba~ used for the religious exercises, especially for the hearing of Mass; other chapels of the house are secondary semi- 25 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religiou's public oratories.~ The generhl principle is that the place of celebra-tion determines'the ordo (calendar) to be followed for Mass. Tl~erefore: 1. In the principal semipublic oratory, every priest, diocesan or .re!igious, must say Mass according to the ordo of such an oratory, whether the ordo is diocesan or proper to the religious, e.g., "Fran-ciscan,~ Dominican. a. The priest does not follow the special rites or ceremonies of religious orders or churches, e.g., a diocesan priest does not me, ntion the founder of a religiotis order in the Cont~iteor. b. The. priest may celebrate votive or requiem Masses permitted by the ordo of such an oratory, even though not permitted by his own ordo. ' c. When the ordo of such an oratory permits private votive Masses, the priest may say the Mass of the office of the day for such a place or a votive or requiem Mass, and in all of these he follows the ordo of the oratory in every respect. Or he may say the Mass that cor-responds to his own ordo, even if only that of a blessed. If he does so, he is to say the Mass in the festal, not votive,' manner, i.e., he says the Mass exactly as he would in his own church or oratory. d. The norm for a principal semipublic oratory applies also to a church "and a public oratory. 2. In the secondary semipublic oratories, a priest may.but is not obliged to follow the ordo of the place of celebration. He may and ,prefer.ably should follow his own ordo, because of the general prin-ciple that the Mass should as far as possible be in conformity with the office. 'This norm also applies to Mass in a private oratory and outside a sacred place. ~ 3. The ordo of the oratories of lay religious is the diocesan i~rdo except in the case of religious who have a proper ordo. In practice a proper ordo will be found only iia the second'order of nuns or third orders of c0ngreg.ation~s of sisters. These have the right of following the ordo of the first order of religious men to which they are affili-ated, e.g., Franciscan sisters have the right of following the ordo of the first order.of Franciscan men to which they are affiliated. An in-stitute subject to the diocesan ordo may also have some special Masses granted by the Holy See. 4.~. Cardinais and bishops have the privilege of following' tl~eir own ordo wherever they celebrate. Cf. J'. O'Connell, The Celebra-tion of Mass, 58-61.'---JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. 26 I:'orbidden;,. Re ding John J. Lynch~ S.J. | T-is 'rather cor~mon knowledge among Catholics that ~l~e Church | forbids her subjects to read certain publications which she~judges would be a threat to faith or morals. Beyond ~hat g~neric"facL however, common knowledge does not proceed very far--partiall~r, perhaps, because more detailed information is not a practical ne-cessitj" for the many who prefer to restrict their reading either 'to professedly Catholic publications or to literature which di3es not verge ori religious or moral matters. But it' is also unfortunately true that more detailed information on this law is not abundantly available except.in technical manuals of moral theology and canon law. Hence even those who desire or need enlightenment find them-selves under a certain handicap for want of informationa.l sources. It is primarily for that latter reason that the subject appears, ap-propriate to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Even though limitations of spac? forbid an exhaustive treatment here, it may be possible to in-dicate the basic principles involved and to recommend for more de-tailed explanation other authors' whose writings in the vernacular are conveniently available. THE CHURCH'S RIGHT TO CONTROL RI~ADING The point of departi~re for any intelligent discussion of this question is the established fact that the Church is divinely instituted, vested with full right to teach authoritatively and to rule in matters religious, and charged byr Christ Himself with the responsibility .~f safeguarding Catholic faith and morals. In these matters the voice of the Church is the voice of God and commands the same unques- [ioning obedience which is due the word of God Himself. Further-more-- a psychological fact which any rational individual must ad-mit- the printed word Can and does exert on the human intellect .and will a most powerful influence for both good and evil and is, consequently, a mighty factor in the preservation or destruction of personal faith and morals. Hence in all reasonableness we must concede the right and duty of the Church, if she deems .it necessary, to exercise a measure of control over the literature we read anal to establish norms and regulations whereby the faith and morals" of her subjects will be protected from what we might call "subversive influences," Neither her authority in that sphere, nor her essential 'wisdom in the exercise of that authority, Can be yalidly que~tioned :2,7 JOHN J. LYNCH Reoieto for Religious once we face the fact of her institution by God as official and ~iuthori-tative custodian of faith and morals. THE FACT OF LEGISLATIVE CONTROL In wl~at specific form has the Church de facto expressed her pro-hibition against certain publications? For practical purp6ses we need consider but two documents, one of which restricts itself to the presentation of generic norms which proscribe certain type~ of lit-erature, while the other provides an enumeration of individual works and authors condemned specifically by name. This latter chtalogue is commonly referred to as the Index of Forbidden Books; the more generic legislation is derived from Book III of the Code of Canon Law. They are not mutually independent and unrelated documents, as we shall see. And while the Index is probably more fa~iliar to most people as a term of reference, it is the Code upon which we lean more heavily when decision must be made regarding our freedom to read certain literature. Occasionally, too, local bishops will exercise their rightful .author-ity in this regard and forbid their respective subjects to read ~pecified publications. But since legislation of that kind is invariably brought to the immediate attention of the faithful from the puligit and through the diocesan press, there is no need here to delay; on that species of prohibition. I. THE CODE OF CANON LAW: CANON 1399 Canon 1399 lists eleven different categories of writing:which, regardless of title or specific author, are automatically classified as forbidden reading for Catholics. It is in no sense of the Word an arbitrary catalogue. Divine natural law obliges us to avoid;'if p?s-sible, reading anything which may imperil our faith or mortal recti.- tude. The Church in her wisdom and from the wealth of her ex-perience has merely specified that fundamental obligation of natural law by indicating in this canon various classes of literature, which are most likely to pose such a threat to the average individual. Since her norm of judgment is the ~iverage Catholic, and because We must concede the existence of Catholics who are above average in knowl-edge. of their faith and in unswerving adherence to its priniiples, a word about the pectiliar nature of this law is necessary for° an ap-preciation of its obliging force~ Law Foundbd on Presumption The law enunciated in cani3n 1399 is of the type which is said 28 danuar~t; 1956 FORBIDDEN READING to be: ;"founded on presumption." In other words, the legislator of such .a statute first, with good reason, pre.sumes something to be uhiversally true, and then on the basis of that presumption formu-lates a~ law. Presumption of Fact What is presumed as true may be a fact of some sort, on the assumed universality of which legislation is thereupon enacted. If, however, the fact presumed can be disproVen as non-existent in a given:instance, the law based thereon collapses in a sense, i.e., does not oblige in that individual case. Such laws are said to be "founded on a l/resumption of fact"; and it is the intention of the legislator that his law shall not bind in isolated instances where by way of excepiion the presumed fact is not verified. Perhaps an example will further clarify this notion of presump-tion of fact. Civil law, for instance, holds a husband legally re-sponsible for the support of all children born to his wife during their marriage. The fact on which that legislation is founded is the presumption, valid in the .great majority of cases, that a husband is the~natural father of his wife's children. If, however, contrary fact can be proven in an individual case, the law yields to that fact and dbes not apply in that particular instance. Presumption of Universal Danger Another presumption upon which legislation is sometimes based is that. of universal danger, i.e., danger to the common welfare. In this case a certain act is reasonably presumed to be usuaIl~t dangerous to the.individual and as alu~a~s a threat to the common good if not contr'o]led by law in each individual case. Hence the presumption, .or basis for the law, is twofold and directly regards not only the welfare of individual subjects but also and primarily the good of the commhnity as a whole. For this latter reason such a law does not cease t}o oblige the individual even if it should be apparerlt that the act in question threatens no danger to him personally; for there remains the further presumption that to allow individuals to make that d_ecislon for themselves will inevitably pose a threat to the common good. Thus, for example, in time of severe drought some communities 'have" f6rbidden all outdoor fires unless in each case a permit be first obtalne~t from local civil authority. Such a prohibition is founded on the'presumption tbat'danger to the community cannot be effec-tively ~iverted.if private citizens are allowed to decide for themselves ,JOHN J. LYNCH Review for Religious what precautions are adequate against ,uncontrolled conflagration. Hence civil authority reserves that decision to itself; and despite the acttial efficacy of .the precautions he may take, the individual will be held liable if he lights a fire without the permission of proper officials. For the primary presumption still obtains, viz., that it is dangerous to the common good to permit individuals to make such decisions for themselves without supervision. Presumption of Canon 1399 It is on this latter presumption of universal danger that the Church bases her law prohibiting certain types of literature. She recognizes th'e fact that the general faith will be imperiled if in-dividuals are allowed to judge for themselves in these cases the presence or absence of personal danger. Consequently this law is intended to oblige even those who have every reason to believe that the reading of° certain forbidden matter will not in the least affect their personal faith or morals. In the interests of the common good, the .right to pass judgment on that question is legitimately reserved by the Church to herself. Hence this positive law of the Church is designedly more strict than is natural .law on the same point. Natural law demands only that one avoid reading what is dangerous to oneself; positive Church law requires that we refrain also from reading whatever ecclesiastical~ authority }~as judged to be a threat to the faith and morals of the average individual. Natural law obliges us to consult only our own consciences when choosing matter for reading: ecclesiastical" law en-joins the further obligation of consulting designated superiors be-fore we can consider ourselves free to read certain publications. Extent of Canon 1399 Before summarizing the content of canon 1399, a brief word about the extent of the prohibition which this law expresses: 1. With the ~xception of cardinals, bishops, and several other .high ecclesiastics, all Catholics--clergy and religious as well as the laity--are subject to the Church's law of forbidden reading. It .goes without saying, of course, that no exemption from this positive law can ever imply freedom from natural law. Regardless of dig-nity or rank, no individual can escape the obligation of avoiding as far as possible any reading which may de facto constitute for him personally a threat to faith or morals., It is only within that area where positive precept is more stringent than naturhl law that cer-tain Church dignitaries are declared immune from obligation, on ,]anuarg. 1956 FORBIDDEN READING the legitimate presumption th~at the same exceptional qualities which merit them their rank will likewise guarantee their immunity from the harmful effects of the literature condemned by ecclesiastical law. 2. We are forbidden not only to read certain literature, but also to publish it, retain it in our possession, translate it into other lan-guages, and to sell or in any other way make it available to others. 3.' Although the Code speaks primarily of books, it also ex-plicitly states that, unless the contrary is evident in a particular con-text, the law applies equally to all manner of publications, whether booklets, pamphlets, magazine or newspaper articles, if these are substantially concerned with forbidden matter. 4. The prohibitions of this canon, although binding gravely in conscience, are not absolute in the sense of removing certain pub-lications irrevocably beyond the reach of Catholic readers. As will be seen later,in more detail, permission ~o read such matter can and will be granted v~hen reasonable request is made of proper authority. With these preliminary notions in mind, a glar)ce at the stipu-lations of canon 1399 will provide at least .a bird's-eye view of the literary area proscribed by ecclesiastical law. To cope with all the legal ramifications of this complex statute would require that genius and skill peculiar to professional canonists, and for that reason the following survey is purposely restricted to the larger aspects of the law. _As a possibl~ aid to memory,, the exact order of the canon itself has been abandoned in an effort to gather its finer and more elusive details within several broader categories. The four divisions actually employed here are still not completely distinct from one another; but they may serve to fix more firmly in the reader's memory the various types of literature which the Church considers most likely to exert a malign influence on the faithful. A. SCRIPTURAl. WORKS Since the Bible is the word Of God Himself and one of the au-thentic sources whence we derive the revealed truths of our Catholic faith, the Church has always exercised extreme vigilance over the exact letter and substance of Holy Scripture. As the constituted guardian of divine revelation, she insists therefore upon her exclusive right to pass judgment on any publication which attempts to repro-duce or to interpret the Bible either in whole or in part. Scientific scholarship, if exercised competently, objectively, and without bias, will never contradict the scriptural teaching of the Church. But there always remains the possibility 'that unscientific methods, re- 31 JOHN J. LYNCH Re~ieu~ /:or Religious ligious prejudice, or misdirected piety will adulterate the conclu-sions of biblical scholars; and for that reason the Church has re-stricted our right to read two classes of scriptural writings: 1. All editions of Hol~l Scripture which are compiled or pub-fished bq non-Catholics, whether these editions be presented in the language in which they were originally written or in ancient or modern translation--in other words, any non-Catholic edition of the Bible or parts of the Bible. The example which comes immediately to mind is the King James version so commonly used by English-speaking non-Catholics. But those who have engaged in biblical studies may also recognize such standard works as Rudolph Kittel's Biblia Hebraica, Psalterium duxta Hebraeos Hieronqmi by J. M. Harder, Nestle's Novum Testa-mentum, and Chicago Bible, an English translation of old and new testament compiled by a group of scholars under the auspices of the University of Chicago. All of these, as well as numerous others, are automatically ban'ned for most Catholics. By way of excep-tion, however, the Code allows anyone who is engaged in the study of either theology or scripture to make use of such works, provided that they are known to be faithful and integral reproductions of the original and to contain nothing by way of annotation or com-mentary which impugns Catholic dogma. Under the same. proviso, this privilege also applies to vernacular translations by Catholics when the reason for their prohibition (as explained immediately below) is failure to obtain proper ecclesiastical approbation. 2. Scriptural publications of Catholic authors who have failed to observe ecclesiastical law regarding prior censorship. (One infallible sign of proper compliance with this requirement is the "Imprimatur" usually found at the beginning of religious books published by Catholics.) Hence (a) Catholic editions of the Bible text, either in the original language or in translation, 0s well as (b) annotations'and commentaries on Sacred Scripture, are prohibited reading if they are published even by Catholics without proper ecclesiastical examination and approval. B. WRITINGS DESTRUCTIVE OF FAITH Faith can be understood here in a rather broad sense so as to include firm intellectual a~sent not only to those dogmas solemnly defined or traditionally taught by the Church as having been re-. vealed by God, but also to what may be termed the rational pre-rqquisites of faith in that strict, sense and the corollaries which 32 danuarg, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING logically follow from revealed truth. In order to protect effectively the hard core of revelation, the Church must also guard that peri-phery of truths and principles which, although not divinely revealed or solemnly defined, are inextricably linked to the deposit of faith. It is with this realization that canon 1399 goes into some detail-- repetitiously perhaps in spots--as to the various species of writing forbidden as pernicious to Catholic faith. 1. Writings which attack or ridicule Catholic dogma, or which impugn religion in general, or attempt in ang wag to destro~t the fun~aments of religion; publicatiohs which defend heresy, schism. or other errors condemned by the Holy See. This synthesis of several sections of canon 1399 comprises two generic methods of discrediting the Catholic faith: the direct attack whereby the positive teaching of the Church is allegedly refuted and claimed to-be false: and the more indirect approach whereby, even perhaps without explicit reference to Catholicism, certain false doctrines are defended as ostensibl~ true. The threat in. either case is reductively the same: either to wean the reader away from the true faith through disparagement or specious argu-ments or to attract him intellectually or emotionally to beliefs which a're opposed to Catholicism. When the Code speaks of attacking theological truth or of de-fending doctrinal error, it implies a deliberate, methodical, concen-trated attempt to prove or disprove by means of formal argumen-tation. Isolated and gratuitous assertions, incidental to some other predominant and harmless theme, would not suffice to verify this notion. So too of ridicule, calumny, skepticism, and the like. If such aspersions be persistent and an integral part of an author's manifest thesis they can go a long way towards creating doubt about re-ligious truth and can be sufficient to classify a work as condemned, under this heading. Heresy in theological terminology is th~ pertinacious denial or doubt of any truth which has been infallibly declared by the Church to be part of divine revelation. It is the rejection therefore of dogma, which signifies any doctrine so taught by the Church. By schism is meant the refusal of one already baptized to submit to the 're-ligious authority of the pope or to live in communion with the members of the Church who do acknowledge his authority. Over and above these more blatant defiances of ecclesiastical teaching authority, there-are other doctrines which may not di, rec~ly contradict the above-mentioned truths but which are at 33 JOHN J. LYNCH Reuieto /:or- Rel~'gious variance with certain other theological pri~nciples or conclusions which the Church defends as certainly true even though not con-tained perhaps in the direct revelation of Christ. Denial of these truths is condemned by the Church not as heretical but as false or erroneous. The :undaments o: religion are natural or supernatural order, on ness of our faith. Among these last and immortality of the human soul, bility and fact of divine revelation, all those truths, whether of the which depends the reasonable-' would be classified the existence freedom of the will, the possi-the possibility of miracles, 'etc. Many of these "fundaments" have also been explicitly taught by the Church, and hence would qualify also under one or another of the preceding paragraphs. With regard to the writings of the ver~f early heretics, theologians generally admit that they are not at the present time forbidden ab-solutely, at least to those who are well versed in the faith. The reason they alleg~e i~ that the errors defended in these ancient works have long since been universally recognized as false and no longer pose a common threat of perversion. Hence such collections as those of Labbe or Migne may be kept intact and their contents read~ even though they do include some of the heretical writings of ¯ Tertullian, Eusebius, Origen, and others. The same exception, however, cannot be made for the works of Luther, Calvi;a, Jansenius, and their like, whose errors are still extant and still dangerous. There is no need, however, to return to the Reformation era to find examples of literature which explicitly attacks theologidal truth or defends theological error. Unfortunately such writing is all too plentiful even in our own day. Christ and Catholicism, for instance, by Frederick A. Johnson .(New York: .Vintage Press,. 1954) openly attacks Catholicism both by specious argument and by ridicule, defends heresy, and propounds lesser theological errors. Its subtitle, "A Provocative and Trenchant Analysis of the Real Re-lationship Between Christianity and the Roman Catholic Church," is an accurate portents°of "its theme insofar as the real relationship alleged is one of substantial incompatibility rather than that of identity. Teachings explicitly attacked in one way'or another in-clude the apostolic origin and succession of popes, the indefecti-bility of Church doctrine, devotion to our Lady, the divine insti-tution of the Mass and the dogma of transubstantiation, the effi-cacy of indulgences and sacramentals, and th~ divine origin of all the sacraments except baptism and the Eucharist. (It is significant, 34' FORBIDDEN READING incidentally,, to note on the dust jacket that rMr. Johnson's education ?and background are technblogical, his occupation that of engineeri'ng, his "interest" philosophy, and his hobbies travel, music, and photo-l~ raphy.) Less crude in its presentation, and motivated perhaps by the best of misdirected intentions, is Giovanni Papini's The Devil (New York: E. P. Dutton ~ Co., 1954), originally published in Italian as II Diabolo. The heretical thesis which the author strives to estab-lish is that God's love and mercy are incompatible with an eternal hell and that we may therefore hope that eventually even Satan may achieve salvation and hell cease to exist. 2. Writings which disparage divine worship, which seek to undermine ecclesiastical discipline, or which deliber'ately and per-slstently hold up to opprobrium the ecclesiastical hie?arch~l or the, clerical or religious state. Although literature of this kind is not aimed so directly against the content of Catholic doctrine, it is not difficult to appreciate the pernicious effect it could have on the practical, faith of individuals. Divine worship in this context is not restricted to the Catholic liturgy, but includes any act by which man~ honors God in Him-self or in His saints. As in the previous category, it is not a ques-tion here of occasional disparaging remarks which may be made in passing by an author, but rather of the calculated development at some notable length of an opprobrious theme. Nor is it sufficien.t that individual clerics, religious, or members of the hierarchy be the, target of such abuse. In order to classify as prohibited reading, attack of this kind must ordinarily be leveled against those states of llfe as ecclesiastical institutions. Christ and Catholicism, mentioned just previously in another context, also amply exemplifies almost every" detail of this category of writing. The chapters on the Mass, the priesthood, the sacra-ments-- to cite only the more blatant--are intent upon establishing our liturgy as farcical pantomime and our priesthood .and hierarchy as sacrilegious usurpations of divine power and authority. 3. Those writings of non-Catholics which treat formally" of religion, unless, it be clear that they contain nothing contrary to Catholic faith. There is every good reason to ,hold suspect the religious writings of. non-Catholics,'wl~ose very segregation from the Church is ~itse.lf religious error and creates strong presumption against, the "cukacy' of ahy religious doctrine they would hold' 6r fea~h. Heh~e 3'5 JOHN J. LYNCH Reoieto t:or Religious the Church forbids us to read such literature until we have ascer-tained through some reliable source that it contains no substantial theological error. Religion must here be understood in" its widest sense as includ-ing whatever pertains to the relation of man to God. Every branch of theology, therefore, is included--dogma,, morals,~ ascetics, scrip-ture, litu'rgy, Church history, canon law, etc. Even many philosophi-cal works would fall into this category insofar as they deal either with God as an absolute entity or with rational creatures in their relationship to God, or treat of those truths and principles which constitute the rational foundations of religion. By "formal" treatment (the Code uses the term ex professo) is meant something substantially more than religious obiter dicta. Either the entire work, or a notable section of it, must .designedly express religious beliefs substantiated by logical evidence, real or alleged. The author must, in other words, be intent upon discussing a religious topic at sufficient length to establish the particular pro-position or thesis which he has in mind. Confronted with such a publication, a Catholic is forbidden to read it unless he is certain that it contains nothing of any import-ance contrary to Catholic faith. That assurance should ordinarily be sought from someone who is competent to judge such matters and who is familiar with the content of the work in question. If it should, for instance, be recommended in established Catholic papers or periodicals, one may safely assume that the permissive clause of the canon has been verified. To cite but one possible example of this type of literature, C. S. Lewis, an Anglican, has written both The Screwtape ,Letters and Beyond Personality. Both unquestionably deal formally with matters religious, and hence qualify immediately as suspect under this pro-vision of the law. (3ust a little reflection will suffice to make one realize how comprehensive this phase of the law is.) Since Catholic scholars seem to have found nothing substantially erroneous in the former, it may legitimately be read. But several theologians have pointed 6ut dangerous theological errors in Beyond Personalit~ , and hence this book may not be read ,without permission from proper authority. C. WRITINGS CONTRARY TO MORALS It should be noted at the very beginning that immorality is a term. which is not properly restricted to violations of the Sixth 36 Januar~l, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING Commandment. Impurity is but one species of immorality, a word which is intended to include also whatever else is contrary to the law of God. Therefore, when canon 1399 proscribes writings which of set purpose attack good morals, it is stating a universal prohibition against publications which would tend to weaken us in any virtue or to attract us to any vice. Later on in the same canon explicit mention is made of several species of immoral themes. But since that comparatively brief catalogue does not pretend to be ex-haustive, it is the universal principle which constitutes the ultimate norm in every case. As was true in matters of faith, so too on this question of moral-ity the prohibition is intended to affect publications which make a calculated and determined effort to discredit virtue or to justify or commend what is objectively evil. Whethe~ directly by means of formal argumentation, or indirectly by recourse to derisive tactics, this impugning of virtue or commendation of vice which is pro-scribed must be something substantially more than passing reference. To be included under this automatic prohibition, it must Constitute at least a notable part of the author's intention and literary~'effort. One such book which would seem certainly to fulfill those requirements would be Joseph F. Fletcher's Morals and Medicine (Princeton University Press, 1954), devoted almost entirely to a defense of contraception, artificial insemination, sterilization, and° euthanasia, and to an attempted refutation of Church teaching in that regard. Much of the literature of the Planned Parenthood As-sociation would likewise fall under this ban, since its avowed pur-pose is to counsel birth control as a means of limiting the size of families. Judging merely from pre-publication announcements, ad-vertisements, and reviews, The Stor~/ of Margaret Sanger by Law-rence Lader (New York: Doubleday, 1955) is likely to qualify as forbidden reading under this beading since apparently it is laudatory of the morality which she advocates. Among the immoralities which are more commonly defended or recommended in writing, and which the Code therefore sees fit to mention specifically by name, are (a) (~arious forms of super-stition such as fortunetelling, divination, black magic, spiritism, and the like; (b) dueling, suicide, and divorce; (c) Freemasonry and similar societies, if they are represented as beneficial organizations harmless to Church and state; and finally (d) obscenity, which may be defined as the deliberate presentation of sexually-exciting matter in a manner calculated to be attractive and to stimulate the sexual 37 JOHN,~J., LYNCH Review for, Religiou, s passions. It should be noted that. in every one of the ab6ve cases, and especially in the last, it is not the subject matter which merits condemnation, but the manner in which the subject is treated. '!t is the impugning of virtue and the approval of vice which consti-tute, the threat to individual, good morals. D. PUBLICATIONS LACKING ECCLESIASTICAL .APPROVAL a) Absolutd Prohibitions Canon i385 6f the Code enumerates various classes of litera-ture which Catholic authors-~even laymen--are obliged to submit for diocesan cen.s.orship and approval prior to publication. The list is quite comprehensive, but may be summed up briefly in the con-cluding words of the canon itself as including "all writings which contain anything having a notable bearing on religion or morals." Should it happen that an author fail to comply with this law and publish without approbation a type of work specified therein, it does not.necessarily follow in every case that the publication is forbidden reading for .Catholics. But there are some such works whose very lack of approval does alone suffice to forbid their being read. One such category has already been mentioned, above under "Script~ural Works" (A, 2). The remain~der comprise books and PamPhlets u;bich relate neu; apparitions, revelations, visions, prophe-cies, or miracles, or u~hich introduce novel devotions. The Church by no means denies the possibility of the miraculous even in our own day, nor is her attitude towards them one of skep-ticism~ But she knows from experience the wisdom of extreme cau-tion in these matters because of the dangers to genuine faith involved. in the excess which is credulity. Many, too,.are easily led astray by the novel and the bizarre in the matter o.f devotions. Hence the Church rightfully reserves to herself the prerogative of examining for theological flaw any innovations in this regard and is unwilling that the faithful be exposed to ~heir influence until her own scrutiny has proven them sound. The lack of an Imprimatur on books and pamphlets of this kind is an indication that they are forbidden reading. Regardless of their actual conformity or disconformity with historical and theological fact, they inay not be read unless officially approved. b) Conditioned Prohibitions This final category includes three' classes of publications which likewise ,call for ecclesiastical approval, but which, if published in 38 danuaG/, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING neglect of that requirement, are proscribed only in the e, vent that their content is at variance with Church teaching on the subject. Strictly speaking, much of this type of forbidden literature is al-r~ eady included implicitly under the prohibition of works which are dangerous to faith. But because the Code sees fit to specify, s6 too shall we. 1) . Editions of approved liturgical books in which ang alter-ations have been made. in such a wag that theft no longer agree with the authentic editions approved b~t the Hol~l See. Our liturgical books include the Roman Missal and. Breviary, with both of which the Roman Martyrology and the Roman Calendar or Ordo are closely relatedi the Roman Ritual and the Memoriale Rituum which contain the prayers and ceremonies used in the administration of the Sacra-ments and in other liturgical functions; the Roman Pontifical and the Ceremonial of Bishops, both concerned with episcopal functions only; and the Roman Ceremonial which contains exclusively pap_~l ceremonies. All new editions,of these books must conform exactly tO the authentic texts published by the Holy See, else they are pro~ hibited. 2) Works which spread a knowledge of indulgences which are spurious or which have been condemned or revoked bg the Holg See. An indulgence is termed spurious if it was never validly granted; condemned, if because of abuses it was proscribed by the Holy See; revoked, if withdrawn or abrogated for some reason after having been once granted. The best way to ascertain the authenticity of indulgences is by reference to the Encbiridion Indulgentiarum: Preces et Pia Opera, which is the official collection of .indulgenced prayers and good works. 3) Pictures, printed in ang manner whaisoever, of our Lord," the Blessed Mother~ the angels, the saints and other servants of God, . if tbeq depart From the s#irit and decrees of the Church. The reason for this precaution was expressed long ago by the Council of Trent when that synod pointed out that many of the faithful acquire and retain knowledge of the faith largely through artistic' representa-tions of its mysteries. Therefore the Council warned explicitly against all images which would be suggestive of false doctrine and occasion theological" error. Thus, for example, we are expres,sly forbidden by the Holy Office to represent our Lady in priestly vest-ments, or the Holy Spirit in human form, either with the Father and Son or separately. This preseht legislation concerns only pictures Which are ira- 39 JOHN J. LYNCH Review for Religious pressed upon paper or other material suitable for publication and does not explicitly refer to medals, statues, paintings, and the like. "Since the Code~ in this section is-cohcerned with;printed publicatio.ns, it.does not legislate here with regard to other sacred images. But by its omission it does not mean to deny that those other representa-tions of religious mysteries can also be at variance with the spirit and letter of Catholic doctrine. A previous canon (1279) covers that more generic question quite thoroughly. Perhaps this outline of Code legislation could best be concluded with a practical suggestion. A good rule to follow when in doubt about a publication of manifestly religious nature is to look for an Imprimatur or some other indication of episcopal approbation. If it is'lacking, and, if one is without permission to read forbidden matter, a prudent conscience will advise inquiry before proceeding further. II. THE INDI~X OF FORBIDDI~N BOOKS It may now be apparent how all-inclusive is canon 1399 in its specification of dangerous reading, and why therefore the Index of Forbidden Books is really of secondary importance as a guiding norm. The Index in substance is merely an alphabetical catalogue-- according to authors where possible, otherwise according to titles-- of those works which Rome has seen fit to proscribe by name. As a rule titles explicitly contained in the Indix are already implicitly condemned by virtue of Code legislation; but only a small fraction of those works to which canon 1399 would apply will be accorded express mention in the Index. It would be manifestly impossible .for the Holy See to know of the existence, to say not.hing of the detailed content, of every potentially dangerous work which is published--and equally impossible to catalogue them in manage-able form even if they could be known. Hence, the Index is reserved for those works which are of special importance, either because of their subject matter or because of circumstances of time, current trends, or ingenious approximation of error to truth. But the very great majority of writings which are correctly classified as forbidden owe their condemnation to the generic provisions of canon law alone. Placing a book on the Index is now usually a matter of underlining an already established fact. Since 1897, when under Leo XIII our modern version was first cdmpiled, the Index has gone through a number of editions, the latest in 1948. Interim condemnations are published periodically in 40 January/, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING Acta Apbstolicae Sedis, and these addenda are eventually incorpor-ated into the next subsequent Index whe.never a new edition seems feasible. Occasionally certain titles are deleted when, for example, a book for one reason or another is judged no longer to represent a serious 'universal danger. It would appear to be the present policy of the Church to restrict to a minimum the number of books explicitly condemned and to depend more and more on the general principles of canon law to guide the faithful in their recognition of forbidden matter. The 1948 Index contains 4126 entries, of which only 255 represent publications of this twentieth century. For the benefit of those who may have occasion t~ consult the Index itself, a brief explanation of some of its terminology and sym-bols may be helpful. Solemn Condemnations. Usually it is the Congregation of the Holy Office which now issues the condemnation of specific publica-tions. In exceptional cases, however, the pope himself may choose to exercise his supreme authority and proscribe a work in even more solemn manner. These papal pronouncements are rare (only 144 books in the current Index are so condemned) and are reserved for writings which are considered to be especially pernicious. In the Index books proscribed by solemn papal decree are designated by the cross or dagger (~'). The practical significance of that symbol is to remind us of the severe penalty of excommunication imposed by the Church on those who would knowingly read or retain such literature without permission. Conditioned Condemnations. The asterisk (*) which precedes other titles in the Index indicates that the work is condemned in its present form until it be corrected ("donec corrigatur"). The im-plication, therefore, is that its errors are not beyond correction and that a revised edition, if submitted to proper ecclesiastical authority, may yet merit approval. The work in its original condemned form, however, remains forbidden reading. "Opera Omnia." Since 1940 the preface of the Index contains this authentic explanation of the phrase opera omnia whereby the complete works ~)f some authors are now prohibited: "According to practice' now in force, when the complete works of a certain writer are condemned by the term topera omnia," each and every work of that author is to be understood as proscribed without exception." If an author has shown himself to be invariably at odds with faith or morals, this sweeping condemnation of all his works is employed is the surest means of protecting the unwary. 41 JOHN J. LYNC~ Review [or Religious "'Omnes Fabulae Amatoriae." This phrase is appended to the names of eleven, of the novelists listed in the Index (Stendhal, George .Sand, 'Balzac, Eugene Sue, Alexandre Dumas, St. and Jr:, Champ-fleury, Faydeau, Henry Murger, Frederic Souli~, and Gabriele O'An-nunzio). In literal English translation the expression dmerges as "all love stories," a concept which is perhaps more accurately ex-pressed by the circumlocution, "all novels which emphasize impure love.'.' In the absence of any authentic interpretation, commentators generally have attached that meaning to the term as employed in the Index. For practical purposes, the expression is intended to ban literally all the novels of the author named but allows for.the pos-sible exception of one or several which may be shown certainly not to offend against canon 1399 and which ha'~e not been forbidden by particular decree. It is, therefore, a somewhat less rigorous con-demnation tba~a is the term .opera omnia which prohibits all an author's works without qualification. Needless to say, however, it ,creates a very strong presumption against any novel which that author may have written and commands extreme caution on the part of any would-be reader. Actually the great majority of titles contained in the Index would be of very little interest to the average modern reader nor does their proscription in any notable way restrict the literary preferences of most. Usually it is only the professional scholars in a specialized field who would have either need or desire to consult them. Another popular misconception of the Church's prohibition of books is that it concerns itself chiefly, if not exclusively, with the risqu~ and the salacious. That impression, too, bespeaks almost total unfamiliarity with both Code .legislation and the Index. As a preferred list of potential best sellers, our ecclesiastical blacklist would be a colossal hoax. III. PERMISSION q~O READ CONDEMNED LITERATURE As has already been mentioned, ecclesiastical legislation against the reading of certain literature is not so absolute as to deny Catho-lics without exception all access to publications condemned by posi-tive law. The Church's prohibition in this regard is basically a pre-cautionary measure intended to restrict such reading to thdse only who in bet judgment can safely survive exposure without con-tamination. Hence she reserves to" herself, in the person' of qualified delegates, the exclusive right to judge each individual case. But she expressly provides for those circumstafices in which neces~sity or genuine utility requires the reading of condemned matter by those 42 ,lanuary, 1956 o FORBIDDEN READING whose ~olidity of faith and morals she recognizes as promising them immunity from harm.' Ordinary Permission ' .Except in the case of exempt clerical institutes, whose members may refer this matter to thei'r major superior, it is one's local ordinary alone who may grant religious, either directly or through a delegate, permission to read literature which" is otherwise forbidden. (It need scarcely be said that the Holy See could likewise grant the same per-mission.) But unless he has acquired special powers beyond tboze which the Code concedes him directly, the ordinary may give that permission only to specified individuals and for specified titles. He would not, for example, allow "all the Sister graduate students to read whatever is prescribed for their course in the history of litera-ture." Those who request permissions under this law will ordinarily find that chancery requires the names of those who want the per-mission, the titles of those works which they wish to read, and the reason which makes that reading necessary. It is usually advisable to channel requests of this nature through someone whose position and personal knowledge make it possible to testify to the reasonable-ness of the petition--a parish priest, chaplain, one's superior, or the dean or head of a department if one is enrblled in a Catholic coll'ege or university. The practice of individual chanceries may vary in this regard and Ioc~aI custom should be as&trained and observed. (A specimen petition may be found on p. 70 of What Is the Index? included ~among the suggested, readings at the end of this article.) Permission to read forbidden matter is granted with the express 'understanding that adequate precautions will be taken to prevent the literature in question from falling into the hands of others un-authorized to read it. And no permission, however broad, can ever release us from the obligation under natural law to protect our-selves from danger. None of us is confirmed in grace simply by complying with the requisites of positive law. It may happen that one's own theological background is not always sufficient to solve every difficulty alleged against our faith and to dispel all doubts which may be lodged against our religious convictions. One's first and urgent obligation in that case is to seek explanation and en-lightenment from some other who is qualified to expo.se the error behind the doubt. And it may sometimes happen that decision to abandon that type of reading will prove a prudent additional course of actioni I 43 JOHN J. LYNCH Reuieto for Reli~t'ous Extraordinary Permission There are some exceptional situations which cannot be pro-vided for adequately or ~xpeditiously with the restricted power granted by the Code to ordinaries in favor of their respective sub-jects. Professional scholars engaged in prolonged research, librarians responsible for the disposition of numerous books, editors and staff members of religious papers and periodicals, college and university professors.-~tbese and others in similar walks of life must often, in order to do their work effectively, have somewhat greater latitude in the matter of probibityd reading. To cope with circumstances such as these, bishops in this country by virtue of their quinquennial faculties, and at least some major religious superiors by virtue of special privilege, may at their prudent discretion allow certain indi-viduals greater liberty. Perhaps the briefest possible way of ex-plaining the limits of this power is to quote from the formula used by the Holy Office itself: "The faculty of granting for not more than three years permission to read or keep, with precautions, how-ever, lest they fall into the hands of other persons, forbidden books and papers, excepting works which professedly advocate heresy or schism, or which attempt to undermine the very foundations of religion, or which are professedly obscene; the permission to be granted to their own subjects individually, and only with dis:rim-ination and for-just and reasonable cause; that is, to such persons only as really need to read the said books and papers, either in order to refute them, or in the exercise of their own lawful func-tions, or in the pursuit, of a lawful course of studies." An official note appended to the above faculty further advises that it "is granted to Bishops to be exercised by them personally; hence not ¯ to be delegated to anyone; and moreover with a grave responsibility in conscience upon the Bishops as regards the real concurrence of all the above-named conditions." It should be clear without further comment that this type of general permission cannot be granted at random or automatically upon request. Admittedly there are times when ecclesiastical restrictions on reading impose a considerable inconvenience, perhaps even handicap, upon Catholic scholars. Unfortunately, that sometimes is an un-avoidable incidental by-product of Church legislation in this regard. But we simply must, recognize and respect the fact that the direct intent of these laws, formulated in obedience to Christ's own man-date to His Church, is the protection of the faithful as a whole ;.n the essentials of faith and morals. If the individual good of acom- ,lanuarg, 1956 " FORBIDDEN. READING parative few must occasionally suffer, it does so out of deference tO the greater good. -~ IV. SUGGESTED READINGS 1. Joseph M. Pernicone, The Ecclesiastical Prohibition Books, Washington, D. C.:, Catholic University of America Press, 1932. Written as a doctorate thesis when the author, presently auxiliary bishop of New York, was in. graduate studies in cation law at Catholic University, this book provides an exhaustive and most competent analysis of those canons of the Code which pertain to forbidden literature. Technical rather than popular in presen-tation, it would nevertheless serve most effectively as an occasional reference book for those who may want more minute explanation of the finer points of the law. \ 2. T.L. Bouscaren, S.J., and A. C. Ellis, S.J., Canon Law: A Text and Commentary, Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951 (ed.2), pp. 778-91. Father Bouscaren is aconsultor to the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith; Father Ellis is a consultor to the Congregation of Religious. Both were professors of canon law at the Gregorian University, Rome. Although their excellent com-mentary is intended primarily for students of ecclesiastical juris-prudence, )eligious in general would find in the pages devoted to forbidden literature much that would help to a fuller understanding of the intricacies of this law. 3. Redmond A. Burke, C.S.V., What Is the Index?, Mil-waukee: Bruce, 1952. Whereas most literature on the subject is directed to theologians or theological students, this presentation, as interesting as it is informative, is addressed "to intelligent laity, whether Catholic or non-Catholic." The author is at present di-rector of libraries at De Paul University in Chicago. Eminently readable, the book provides in addition to the standard treatment of the subject several convenient and instructive appendixes. Samples: better known authors of forbidden works grouped according to subject matter; a complete list of the books written by the eleven novelists condemned with the term omnes fabulae amatoriae; for-bidden titles from the English literature; applications of tfiis law to the readings recommended by the Great Books Program. Father Burke's book would be a highly useful addition to the library of any religious house. .4. Edwin F. Healy, S.J., Moral Guidance, Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1942; ch. XIII, pp. 276-85. Previously profes.- FOR YOUR INFORMATION Review [or Religious sot of moral theology at West Baden College, Father Healy now lectures on the same subject at the Gregorian University in Rome. His college texts in moral theology, of which this is but one, are familiar to many who.have taken or taught such a course in recent years. The chapter devoted to forbidden books is presented, of course, in textbook style and provides a conveni'ent outline of the law's main content together with the most practical of its applica-tions. The corresponding section in the companion volume, Teacher's Manual For Moral Guidance, gives further insight into the purpose of this legislation and provides telling answers to several objections commonly leveled against the ecclesiastical prohibition of books. 5. Malachi J. Donnelly, S.J., "Church Law and Non-Cath-olic Books" in American Ecclesiastical Review, 114 (1"946), pp. 403-9. Although this article is restricted to but one category of forbidden literature, viz., the religious writings of non-Catholics, its practical value is perhaps thereby enhanced. Religion has become a most popular topic even among non-Catholic authors, and there are numerous books of this kind on the market which win almost universal applause for their sincere and perhaps novel approach to spiritual problems. It may be an fiye-opening experience for some to see how Father Donnelly applies canon 1399 to one such book, Be~/ond Personality/ by C. S. Lewis, and demonstrates the caution we must exercise at times when selecting even our spiritual reading. For Your Int:ormation Concernincj Summer Sessions We are happy to be of service to ~eligious by publishing in our March :and May numbers announcements of summer-session courses that are of special interest or value to religious. We are willing to do this for any summer-session directors who] send us the proper information. But it seems to be asking too much "merely to send us a summer-session bulletin and to leave to us the work of select-ing the courses to be announced. Deans who ~vish us to publish an announcement should compose it themsel'ves. The announcement should contain only brief references to the spedat courses for re-ligious, and all the information should be in one paragraph. The material should be. typed double- or (preferably) triple-spaced. 46 January, 1956 FOR YOUR INFORMATION Moreover, it would be helpful if.~opitalization, punctuation, and other mechanics were in conformity with the rules given in our "Notes for Contributors," as published in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIV (March, ,July),- 104 ff., 194 ff. Our Addresses It will help ve.ry much if those who write to us will note the following addresses : 1. Business correspondence should be sefit to: The Coliege Press, 606 Harrison, Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: The Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. Questions on canon law and liturgy should be addressed to: The Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Maryland. 4. Other questions and editorial correspondence should be ad-dressed to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's Col-lege, St. Marys, Kansas. New Holy Week Rubrics Of interest to many of our readers is the appearance in the "win-ter issue of Theology Digest (Vol. IV, No. 1) of a concise summary of the new Holy Week order to be observed in the celebration of the sacred ceremonies and the recitation of the Divine Office. Ad-dress: Theology Digest, 1015 Central, Kansas City 5, Missouri. $2.00 per year; foreign, $2.25. Breviary Changes A decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, dated March 23, 1955, made some radical changes in the rubrics for celebrating Mass and reciting the Divine Office. A pamphlet entitled Otffcial Changes in the Breviary, by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., gives the back-ground of the decree, an English translation of the parts that concern the recitation of the'Breviary, and a brief commentary on these parts. The material concernirig the new rubrics for Holy Week, which was contained in the decree of November 15, 1955, i;, not included in the pamphlet. The price of the pamphlet is ten cents. It is pub-lished by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. (Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.) THE HISTORY OF ISRAEL. Vol I and Vol. II, By Giuseppe Ri¢c~otti. "Translated by Clement della Penta, O.P., and Richard A. Murphy, O.P. Pp. 430 and 476. The Bruce Publishing Co., Milwaukee I. 1955. ~ $15.00 the set. For those Who have enjoyed Ricciotti's Life of Christ in Eng-lish, a similar treat awaits them in the new translation of his two-volume History of Israel. Detailing the dramatic story of God's chosen people from the call of Abraham to the final catastrophe at Jerusalem in 130 A.D., the author gives rich background and a vivid i~resentation of the trials and triumphs of Israel. The Do-. minican translator~ have captured Ricciotti's pleasant style, pre'- senting an engaging history which has already seen four Italian editions and four European translations. In his preface Father Murphy points out that the book "fills a lamentable gap in the field of Catholic,scriptural literature in Eng-lish." One plies library shelves in vain to find so adequate a Cath-olic treatment of Israelite history within a single work. With Ricciotti's training in oriental languages, his years lived in the Holy ¯ Land, and his wide acquaintance with non-Catholic literature, his history is more than "just another book." It does not seek merely to' answer non-Catholic objections, but to present a positive, clear exposition of the Catholic approach to complex Biblical questions. Ricciotti's appreciation of recent discoveries of historians and arche-ologists is evident in a lengthy chapter concern_ing late excavations and surveys, evidence from which he faithfully evaluates and as-similates into his work. The translators supplement this section of his book with findings of the past two years at Qumram and Murabba'at, and they have changed some dates to conform better with the new evidence. Ricciotti's explicit intent is to write history. He avoids long discussions of critical theories. Cautious, especially in the face of recent discoveries in Palestine, he presents his readers with facts and leaves to them the formation of personal' judgments. His one thrust at modern criticism is~to point out that "any critical history must take into account the basic outlines of history as they are sketched in the Bible." The Bible is a historical source par excellence. At-tempts to discredit it on arguments drawn from philology an;:l liter- 48 BOOK REVIEWS' ary criticism are based on false philosophic presfippositions.The fundamental supposition of "impossibility" of Israelite tradition' 'by Wellhausen and others is being shaken and weakened by the spade of the archaeologist. Recent discoveries tend to confirm the tradi- 'tional position, both as to events and their chronology. Where the Bible and other sources are mute, as, for instance~ during the period of Greek domination and after the Romafi seizure of Jerusalem in 70 A.D., Ricciotti reconstructs Jewish h~istory and attempts to fill in, the silent pages of Israel's tragic story. In his role of historian he maintains a steady progression. Any pause, such as to explain prophetism or the importance of an archaeological discovery, is only to enrich the reader's background for a deeper ap-preciation of the history at hand. Because references in the original are principally to German and French sources, the editor thought it "unnecessary to burden Eng-lish- speaking readers with a bibliography" in the English edition. Some may regret this lack, even though the footnotes in the text are more than sufficient, to indicate the author's wealth of source material. The scholar will find this History a helpful reference. It presents a readable and engrossing story for those wishing to learn more of Israelite history and serves as excellent background for an intelligent reading of the Bible.--ROBERT C. DRESSMAN, S.J. THE LIFE OF ST. DOMINIC SAVI'O. By Sf. John Bosco. Transla'red by: Paul Aronica, S.D~B. Pp. 112. Salesiana Publishers, Pafferson New Jersey. 1955. $2.75. In 1857, Dominic Savio, after spending two and a half years under the guidance of St. John Bosco at the Oratory of St. Francis of Sales in Turin, died at the age of fifteen. Two years later, Don Bosco wrote an account of the life of this youth whose sanctity he held in high esteem. Short and unpretentious, this biography was published largely with a view to the spiritual profit of youthful readers. Translated from the fifth Italian edition, The Life of St. Dom-inic Savio has been prepared for American boys,, their parents and teachers. Hence the translator has added to the original text some background on the ,biography itself, a biographical sketch df St. John Bosco, and two appendices. After the author's preface and after seventeen of the twenty-six chapters, all of them 'brief, the translato~ has inserted notes gathered' from the latest .Italian edition of ii}he, work. 49 BOOK REVIi~WS Review [or Religious In the opening chapters, Don Bosco sketches Dominic's life prior to his arrival at the Oratory late in" 1854. Abandoning chron-ological order, he then proceeds to treat of Dominic's stay at the Oratory in topical fashion. Thus he sets forth the boy's deter-mination to avoid sin, his constant efforts' to strive for sanctity, his spiritual practices, his attitude toward studies, his friendships and relations with his associates, his special graces. The final chapters resume chronological sequence in telling of Dominic's final sick-ness and death. In many ways this is an admirable little book. In its small compass we are given the picture of a young saint sharply and sym-pathetically drawn by another saint, a much older and more experi-enced man. The boy's high ideals, his cheerfulness, and general likeableness, so much in evidence throughout, constitute a most appealing element. The attractive biographical sketch of Don Bosco himself sets the stage, as it were, for Dominic's days at the Oratory and puts the reader in a better position to grasp the relation of Don Bosco to his subject matter. One, however, may be inclined to question the complete suitability of the book for today's American boy. For at times, the viewpoint of the author, both because of time and mentality, discernibly differs from that calculated to be easily and properly understood by the modern American.boy. The notes occasionally rectify this matter. On the other hand, the notes them-selves do introduce a comment on Dominic's m(~desty which the average American boy might find difficult to grasp (p. 55). Fur-thermore, there are several passages of St. John's text which seem to call for notes to clarify theological implications contained therein. For example, his reflections on the force of a good First Communion' on a person's life appear to be a somewhat sweeping generalization which might be difficult to substantiate and need, at least, to be set against a proper historical background (p. 8). Again, Dominic's remarks on merit require distinctions (p. 78). The language of the book runs along simply and smoothly for the most part. One, however, does encounter an occasional awk-~ wardly turned phrase as well as several lapses of grammar and Eng-lish idiom. In place of the illustrations taken from the fifth Italian edition, more modern drawings would perhaps be more effective in catching the eye of young people. While this book, then, has many good points to recommend it,- it is not without its drawbacks, especially for young readers. ~EDMUND F. MILLER, S.J. 50 ,lanuary, 1956 BOOK REVIEWS DAYS OF JOY. By William S÷ephenson, S.J. Pp. 176. The Newman Press, Westmins÷er,Maryland. 19SS. $2.S0. In his preface the author tells us that it is his purpose "to set forth as fully and plainly as possible the meaning of this [the Easter] message ." This is indeed no small task, and yet he succeeds admirably. A full understanding of the meaning of Easter and 'the cause of our joy in it demands a mature faith and an understanding en-riched and deepened by all that the Church can tell us about it. It is no small merit of this work that the author makes free use of the wealth that Holy Church has found for us in this mystery. A step-by- step account of the sacred history from Easter to Pentecost is ac-companied by explanations of dogmatic truths, prayers from the Mass and hymns from the breviary, quotations from devotional writers and instructions in prayer. Theresult is not a heavy treatise, but a book which is devotional and inspiring with its piety deeply rooted in dogmatic theology and the" liturgy. Each stage of events in the story of the Resurrection is treated in this way. First there is an account of the event, e.g., the meeting of our Lord and Mary Magdalen; then there is a series of reflections on the mystery in,which the author explains the truths it shows and their meaning for us. The reflections are concluded with a col-loquy in which some liturgical prayer, hymn from the breviary, or devotional poem is read prayerfully. Along with the text, some-times in the form of notes, are explanations of liturgical practices, the account of the beginning of a devotion or suggestions on methods of prayer drawn from the Exercises oF St. Ignatius. With justice the book is subtitled Thoughts for All Times, because the author's handling of his subject relates this central truth of our faith to other truths and to our daily needs. The com-bination of the gospel narrative and the light thrown on it by theology and the warmth of the liturgy is a happy one. Finally, the method of prayer woven into this pattern gives these sublime thoughts and truths a personal and particular meaning. Thus, the

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

Issue 67.4 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Personal Witness Heart -Knowledge, .Spiritual Reflection QUARTERLY 67.4 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard - St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 5.5806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournal of Catholic ~pir~ual~ for 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scop~ Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.4 2008 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 personal witness Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal Reflection Richard Hauser SJ gives personal witness to Thomas Merton's influence in five areas of spirituality: models of spirituality, personal prayer, the sacred and the secular, nonviolence, and interreligious understanding. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 358 Our Ethnicity.en Route to God Ruth Bolarte IHM, recalling her early religious formation as a Peruvian woman in the United States, points out the need for everyone's ethnic cultural roots to be recognized and made good use of in spiritual direction and in faith and religious-life education. 366 heart knowledge Constitutions and Heart Knowledge Beatrice Eichten OSF proposes that women and men religious may ~ell review their ¢onstitntions and question how they live out in practice their co ,mmunity life and governance today. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Revie~ for Religious 380 Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 386 Nestor Gregoire OMI suggests ways that the Rule Book of a religious congregation can become user friendly and be a part of the community's prayer life. Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations Joel Rippinger OSB paints a picture of the contemporary demands on the monastic community and the adaptation required to remain true to monastic life. 392 4O4 413 Revisiting Hope William P. Clark OMI ruminates on all the richness that the virtue of hope gives to our daily living and to our witness-ing to our Christian faith. Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Hedwig Lewis SJ offers reflections on the Jesuit as "a man on fire" in the light of Decree 2 of General Congregation 35. Though applied here to the Society of Jesus, the ideas have relevance for all women and men religious and for others who desire greater commitment to the Lord. A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of A. Paul Dominic SJ proposes ways that we might find content for our prayer in the dreams that God may use in speaking to us. 425 Scripture Scope: The New Perspective on St. Paul 430 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon: Common and Constant Opinion 435 Book Reviews 443 2008 Index 339 67.4 2008 prisms 3401 Nvember is the month in the Catholic liturgical tradition devoted to a commemoration of the faithful departed. We remember, those who have died and now have a different role to exercise in the communion of the saints. We remind ourselves that death is not an end, but rather a door passed through to life forever. Some years ago the Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner wrote a long essay in the Quaestiones Disputatae series entitled On the Theology of Death. One of the challenges that Rahner pre-sented was for us to view death as a beginning. Obviously in our Christian faith in the resur-rection of the body we acknowledge that in dying we rise to new life. Although physical death can be seen as an end, that same death can be seen as a beginning. Rahner, however, was drawing our atten-tion to how we prepare for our Christian death by how we live. If we truly 7want to enter into living our Christian faith, we should spend our lives learning how to die. All the little dying opportunities in our life allow for this growth. Something so simple as the physical act of fall-ing asleep at night and waking to a new day can be an exercise in dying. We can't make ourselves sleep, but we can give ourselves over Review for Religious to its possibility. And that attitude/action of "giving our-selves over" is what makes death a beginning. In our everyday life, there can be a lot of bringing things to a completion or to an end (a dying), and then we find ourselves giving ourselves over to a new project. Every time we face an ending or a dying, we are learning how to die by giving ourselves over to something new. As Christians, then, we truly can be said to be peo-ple who spend their lives learning how to die. In fol-lowing Jesus, we are his disciples even up to his death on a cross. Even suffering an unjust and cruel death by crucifixion, Jesus saw and freely accepted his death as a giving over of himself to God and to us--his own gift of self in love. This is the gift God makes present to us in every Eucharist--the eternal stance of Jesus giving himself over to the Father and to us, and inviting us to be with him in this gift. So as we enter into every Eucharist, we again are exercising our learning how to die--a giving of ourselves over to new life. November is also the end of the church's liturgical year. We begin anew our liturgical year with the sea-son of Advent. Just as in the secular ending of a year and then the beginning of a new year, we find ourselves challenged to acknowledge that this year we are one year closer to dying, no matter our age. It seems to be a good time to ask ourselves; as Rahner would remind us, how we accept death as a beginning and how each day we are learning how to die. David L. Fleming SJ The Review for Religious advisory board members and editorial staff pray for a blessed Advent and Christmas sea-son for all of you, our readers. 341 67.4 2008 prayer RICHARD J. HAUSER Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal Reflection 342 The Newsweek cover of 19 November 2007 proclaimed 1968 as "The Year That Made Us Who We Are." Prominent among the events recalled were the deaths of Martin Luther King Jr. on 4 April and Robert Kennedy on 6 June. For me the year recalled another death, Thomas Merton's, on 10 December, and Newsweek's title led me to reflect on how Merton had made me and many of my genera-tion who we are as Christians. This surprised me. I had never explicitly assessed Merton's contribution either to 20th-century spiritual-ity or to my own. Then I received and accepted an invitation from St. Mary's College, South Bend, to speak about Merton's legacy to contemporary spiritu-ality. I began delving back into spiritual devel-opments after the Second Vatican Council. Richard J. Hauser SJ writes from Creighton University; 2500 California Plaza; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. Review for Religious To be safe I narrowed my topic to Merton's influence on me, but I soon felt that Merton had influenced my entire generation, affecting major writers such as Henri Nouwen and Thomas Keating. From 1969 to 1972 I studied in the Department of Religion and Religious Education at Catholic University in Washington, D.C. There I became fascinated by Abraham Maslow's self-actualizationpsychology, espe-cially his approach to peak "religious" experience. Deciding for my dissertation to compare Maslow, an agnostic, with a Christian spiritual writer, I did not take the suggestion to use Ignatius Loyola. I had read Seven Storey Mountain in high school; as a young Jesuit I had not become further acquainted; but I would become familiar with him. I chose Merton. Looking back now, I am aware that Merton signifi-cantly altered my approach to spirituality in at least five areas: models of spirituality, personal prayer, the sacred and the secular, nonviolence, and interreligious under-standing. Models of Spirituality Merton transformed my understanding of not only spirituality but also human nature. He moved me from a behavior-centered approach to a contemplative, heart-centered approach. And for the first time I began under-standing the role of grace. In my Jesuit formation from 1955 to 1968, we strove to do God's will as indicated in the daily order. Our day included Mass, meditation, examinations of conscience, the rosary, and other prayers. It included times for work, study, play, eating, and sleeping. Our, day was spent doing things for God. Holiness, as I understood it throughout my Jesuit formation, was in fidelity in doing God's will 343 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection by observing the daily order and keeping the rules: "Keep the rules and the rules will keep you." I frequently failed in observance. I was a perfectionist and experienced guilt. I had migraine headaches during my early years. During my studies at Catholic University, I began rethinking my model of spirituality and of human nature. Though I had never formally articulated it, my understanding of human nature throughout my forma-tion was Freudian: Human nature cannot be trusted because it is dominated by the strong self-centered instinctual impulses of the Id, and so spirituality strives to repress and control this unruly nature. Abraham Maslow's personality theory challenged this model. Maslow describes human nature in a posi-tive series of needs leading to full self-actualization. This actualization occurs as we recognize and respond to our nature's promptings. For my dissertation I sought a theological perspec-tive on human nature that would complement Maslow's psychological one. Merton's theory of the True Self pro-vided that perspective. He stresses that the True Self is the self in an existential union with God. This union is capable of transforming the self if we live in tune with it: "The secret of my identity is hidden in Him. He alone can make me who I am, or rather who I will be when at last I fully begin to be. But, unless I desire this identity and work to find it with him and in him, the work will never be done." Also: "There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace, and my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find him I will find myself, and if I find my true self I will find him.''1 For the first time in my life I was exposed to a Christian approach to the self that stressed not sinful- Review for Religious ness but grace. For me, Merton was describing grace as it worked transforming the various levels of Maslow's series of needs. Merton's "self-realization in Christ" was the perfect complement to Maslow's agnostic "self-actu-alization.'~ But Merton's approach to the self was not naive. He realized that discovering our True Self is difficult because we are shadowed by a False Self. This False Self is a product of our secular, materialistic culture; it leads to an understand- ¯ ing of the self that does not include God: "Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self. My false and pri-vate self is the one who wants to exist outside the reach of God's will and God's love--outside of reality and outside of life. And such a self can-not help but be an illusion .A.ll sin starts from the assumption that my false self, the self that exists only in my own egocentric desires, is the fundamental reality of life to which everything else in the universe is ordered" (Seeds, 34-35). Merton's approach to spirituality focuses not on behavior but on the habitual consciousness underlying actions. Spirituality seeks to recognize and respond to God's presence at the center of our self, our True Self. This includes recognizing and rejecting the patterns of our False Self that separate us from God. It is not unlike Paul's contrast between following Christ by faith-ful observance of the external law and following Christ Merton's approach to spirituality focuses not on behavior but on the habitual consciousness underlying actions. 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thonms Merton'~ Legacy: .4 Per~onM Reflection 346 by responding to the law of the Holy Spirit written upon our hearts. This insight illumined my spirituality. When I began my university teaching, I was asked to teach a graduate course called Approaches to Mysticism. Merton's contemplative spirituality became my guide. Personal Prayer Merton transformed my personal prayer, helping me experience prayer as an authentic and fulfilling expres-sion of myself before God and not only as a prescribed religious obligation. He helped me recognize the Spirit's role and become aware of actual contemplation in my life and prayer. I believe that contemplation is the key to Merton's spirituality. ' Daily personal prayer was a regular part of our Jesuit formation. We were given Jesuit-authored meditation books that presented scriptural passages for each day of the year. We were taught the Ignatian methods of meditation and contemplation presented in his Spiritual Exercises. We were instructed to reflect on those passages using memory, understanding, will, and imagination. We prayed for fifty minutes each morning beginning at 5:30. I found these prayer hours difficult and did not look forward to them. They seemed irrelevant; I often experienced distraction, boredom, and sleep. I was faith-ful to this regimen for the first nine years of my Jeslait formation. As part of my formation I taught at a Jesuit mis-sion in South Dakota. Life at the mission was difficult, both in community life and in ministry. The students showed little enthusiasm for the courses I taught or the activities I ran. Discouraged, I wondered if I had fol-lowed the right vocation. I began taking walks alone late at night down the country road. I poured out my Review for Religious discouragement to the Lord. The walks stabilized me; in the stillness I often found peace. I looked forward to these walks and would not miss them if I could help it. I determined to continue serving the Lord. But I did not consider these walks personal prayer-- they were not the Ignatian prayer I was trained in. Needing sleep, I soon was sleeping through the morning prayer hour and getting up in time for the 6:30 Mass. I felt guilty, but one day I realized I was not skipping prayer--I was doing it at night. From that moment my personal prayer changed. I felt that prayer does not have to be a strenuous concentration of mem-ory, understanding, will, and imagination. Simply being with the Lord anywhere--in chapel or outside--was prayer. Theologians might not agree with me, and this was not the Ignatian prayer I was taught--so I kept my ideas to myself. In graduate school Merton gave me a theological foundation for my prayer. He helped me realize I was holding on to a Pelagian understanding of prayer. He showed me that prayer is really more the work of the Holy Spirit than my work: "It can therefore be said that the aim of mental prayer is to awaken the Holy Spirit within us, and to bring our hearts into harmony with his voice, so that we allow the Holy Spirit to speak and pray within us, and lend him our voice and our affec-tions that we may become, as far as possible, conscious of his prayer in our hearts.''2 Merton showed me that prayer can actually be easy and that we can pray from wherever we are in our lives. It does not have to be a strenuous effort to forget our daily lives and to concentrate on Scripture using mem-ory, understanding, and will. "In prayer we discover what we already have. You start where you are and you 347 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯ Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal R~ection Merton gave me the theology and language to explain and justify what had become my regular practice of personal prayer. 348 deepen what you already have, and you realize that you are already there. We already have everything; but we don't know it and we don't experience it. Everything has been given to us in Christ. All we need is to experience what we already possess.''3 Finally, and unbelievably, I learned that my prayer sometimes fulfilled Merton's description of contem-plation- being touched by God in a way transcending words. What I had considered merely natural human expe-riences-- Maslow's peak experiences-- were actually encoun-ters with the divine: "Contemplation is a sudden gift of aware-ness, an awakening to the Real within all that is real. A vivid - ¯ - awareness of infinite Being at the roots of our own limited being. An awareness of our contingent reality as received, as a present from God, as a free gift of love. This is the existential contact of which we speak when we use the metaphor of being 'touched by God'" (Seeds, 3). I realized these experiences happened most frequendy for me--and for Merton--in nature, and they happened most frequently outside of formal prayer times. He showed me that contemplation is not merely the preserve of cloistered monks and nuns, but that we are all called to it by our baptism. In short, Merton gave me the theology and language to explain and justify what had become my regular prac-tice of personal prayer. This had several enduring effects Review for Religious on my rhythm of personal prayer. I moved toward more and more silence in prayer, allowing the Holy Spirit to pray within me. I began daily prayer with my personal concerns rather than Scripture. I arranged my place of prayer to ensure I could always view God's creation. I altered my annual eight-day retreats: I stopped going to retreat houses and went to places of great natural beauty near a mountain or an ocean--and I began looking for-ward to these retreats. The Sacred and the Secular Merton's ideas had many ramifications in my life. He helped me transcend an artificial distinction I had made between the sacred and the secular. He helped me recognize that daily life is sacred. Before the Second Vatican Council and throughout my formation, I had lived with a basic misunderstand-ing about spirituality and holiness. I believed that spiri-tuality is primarily faithful performance of devotional practices aimed directly at worshiping God, such as Mass and visits to chapel, and that holiness is measured by fidelity to these practices. I did acknowledge other things as important, such as doing God's will and charity toward others, especially toward the most needy. These things, however, seemed not as central to holiness as the explicitly religious activities. When the council came, I was deeply influenced by the document "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). The council clearly taught that being a good Catholic is more than simply performing reli-gious obligations faithfully. A good Catholic must also be actively involved in serving the kingdom of God by living in love in ordinary daily life, and especially by working for justice in the world and working for the poor. 349 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯Tbomas Merton's Legaiy: A Personal Reflection This call occasioned a crisis in my life. I began to feel there had been too much emphasis on religious activities and not enough on service to others. I questioned my commitment to daily Mass and meditation. For a while I dropped daily personal prayer. I had set up a dichotomy between sacred activities and secular activities. Merton helped me overcome this dichotomy. His understand-ing of the True Self was key. The True Self exists in an existential union not only with God but also with the entire human family. There is no true union with God without union with one another, and so the Holy Spirit moves our hearts not only to love God in religious activ-ities but also to love one another in our daily activities: "Christ prayed that all men might become One as He was One with his Father, in the Unity of the Holy Spirit. Therefore when you and I become what we are really meant to be, we will discover not only that we love one another perfectly but that we are both living in Christ and Christ in us, and we are all One Christ. We will see that it is he who loves in us" (Seeds, 65). Living a life of service to others is not a distrac-tion from union with God but actually a condition for reaching this union: "One of the paradoxes of the mys-tical life is this: that a man cannot enter into the deep-est center of himself, and pass through that center into God, unless he is able to pass entirely out of himself and empty himself and give himself to other people in the purity of a selfless love" (Seeds, 64). Merton emphasizes that the quality of prayer affects the quality of our action. The more deeply we are united to God in prayer, the more energy we have to serve our neighbor. "Action and contemplation now grow together into one life and one unity. They become two aspects of the same thing. Action is charity looking out- Review for Religious ward to other men, and contemplation is charity drawn inward to its own divine source. Action is the stream, and contemplation is the spring. The spring remains more important than the stream, for the only thing that really matters is for love to spring up inexhaustibly from the infinite abyss of Christ and of God.''4 Merton gave me the theology to dedicate myself to both prayer and service. Since both flow from the Holy Spirit, both are sacred. This theology impelled me to social action. Soon after I began my university teaching, I initiated a campus boycott of iceberg lettuce to sup-port the farm workers' union. I encouraged nonviolent picketing of the food service lines. The boycott took more than a year but was ultimately successful. Nonviolence Before reflecting on Merton's spirituality, I had a lim-ited understanding of nonviolence. I thought of it sim-ply as conscientiously objecting to the war in Vietnam and, influenced by Martin Luther King's civil rights movement, as not retaliating physically when attacked. Though I admired these positions, I saw those who took them as rare, highly idealistic, and a bit naive. Merton revolutionized my understanding. His description of the True Self showed me that an attitude of nonviolence is an integral part of living the gospel and following Christ. Since God dwells within every human being, this com-munion has radical consequences for how we think and how we act. When we are in tune with God at our center, in our True Self, we experience our oneness with others, even with our "enemies." Our behavior changes. Merton helped me realize that Western understand-ings of the person foster secularism, individualism, materialism, competition, and a sense of superiority. 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯ Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal R~leaion Merton helped me.realize that Western understandings of the person foster secularism, individualism, materialism, competition, and a sense of superiority. This False Self has the illusion that our existence is not connected with God or with others, and this illusion leads to violence: "People who know nothing of God, and whose lives are centered on themselves, imagine that they can only find themselves by asserting their own desires and ambi-tions and appetites in a struggle with the rest of the world. They try to become real by imposing themselves on other people, by appro-priating for them-selves some share of the limited supply of created goods and thus emphasizing the difference between themselves and other men who have less than they, or nothing at all" (Seeds, 47). Merton concludes simply: "I must look for my identity, somehow, not only in God but in other men. I will never be able to find myself if I isolate myself from the rest of mankind as if I were a different kind of being" (Seeds, 51). The transformation Merton calls for happens most profoundly in contemplation. In a busy Kentucky city, Merton experienced his most well-known contemplative awakening: "In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of Review for Religious separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness.''s Such consciousness is the foundation for Merton's understanding of nonviolence. It can move us to deal with our neighbors always with compassion and love, not violence. We seek nonviolent ways to show our neigh-bors the divine within them as it has been shown joyfully to ourselves. This is the way Merton was leading me to radical implications of being a Christian. How inad-equate my understanding of nonviolence had been! Merton lived during the turbulent 1960s and applied nonviolent principles to social movements. He became the prophetic voice for many involved in these movements. While studying in Washington, I attended many mass demonstrations against the Vietnam War. I remember a group of marchers on Pennsylvania Avenue carrying a ban-ner slandering President Nixon. Merton helped me realize that this was not true nonviolence. Without compassion and love, it was merely a redirection of hatred. Truly non-violent social movements exclude hatred, because we are all members of one human family with God as our Father. I began applying nonviolent principles to personal con-flicts. I realized how often I sought to resolve conflicts by some sort of psychological intimidation. I saw anew the need for prayer. And I began teaching a course titled Faith and Nonviolence. We read the New Testament, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez, Daniel Berrigan, and Merton. The course applied nonviolent principles to both societal and personal conflicts. Interreligious Understanding Although I had taken several courses on world reli-gions during my theology studies, I understood these religions mainly as institutions with distinctive creeds, 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection codes, and cults. Through his approach to contem-plation, Merton led me toward an empathetic under-standing of them. Key to this deeper understanding was Merton's insistence that the contemplative experi-ence of the divine is beyond words: "Contemplation is always beyond our own knowledge, beyond our own light, beyond systems, beyond explanations, beyond discourse, beyond dialogue, beyond our own self." "It cannot even be clearly explained. It can only be hinted at, suggested, pointed to, symbolized. The more objec-tively and scientifically one tries to analyze it, the more one empties it of its real content, for this experience is beyond the reach of verbalization and rationalization" (Seeds, 2 & 6). Since all human beings share the same human nature, and since the same God dwells within us all, we may indeed share similar experiences of God. Reading Merton's Inner Experience confirmed this idea for me. Buddhist descriptions of satori are not unlike Merton's descriptions of contemplation. Merton presents a poem. Devoid of thought, I sat quietly by the desk in my official room, With my fountain-mind undisturbed, as serene as water; A sudden crash of thunder, the mind doors burst open, And lo, there sits the old man in all his homeliness. Merton comments: "There sits Chao-pien himself, the same and yet utterly different, for it is the eternal Chao-pien, one with no familiar name, at once humble and mighty., utterly beyond description or comparison because he is beyond yes and no, subject and object, self and not-self. It is like the wonderful, devastating, and unutterable awe of humble joy with which a Christian realizes: 'I and the Lord are One.'''6 Review for Religious This was a major breakthrough in my understand-ing. After my own experiences of contemplation, I could now allow Merton's books and essays on Zen Buddhism, Taoism, Sufism, Judaism, and Hinduism to lead me to deeper understanding of these religions. Since I wanted my students to understand the centrality of prayer and contemplation for every world religion, I began adding these readings to my courses. We all mourned Merton's untimely death in Bangkok on 10 December 1968, during his three-month trip to Asia. This death was especially sad because his firsthand Asian experiences would have given him further data on similarities between Eastern and Western mysticism. My Debt to Merton I realize that many today take for granted the five areas of spirituality that I have described. But Merton's insights were presented before the council and offi-cial Catholicism accepted them. Indeed, his own abbot general censored his 1961 antiwar writings. Merton's writing became foundational for a new generation of Christians and spiritual writers. This fortieth anni-versary of his death is the first time I have stopped to acknowledge my debt. I do not consider it an exaggera-tion to say that Merton was a prophet heralding a new age of spirituality. Merton paved the way for my own understanding of the council's teaching on the Holy Spirit in Christian spirituality. Merton's insistence that the True Self is ontologically united both to God and to all humanity and that the Holy Spirit is the source of this communion transformed my previously unrecognized American indi-vidualism. I had never grasped that the indwelling of the Spirit has actual effects in daily life and daily prayer. The 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection combination of Merton's description of the True Self and the council's message on the Holy Spirit revolution-ized my spirituality. I was so energized by these insights that I wrote three books and dozens of articles. I am indebted to Merton for "bringing me home" to Ignatian prayer. Merton's descriptions of prayer flow-ing spontaneously from daily life led me to reconsider my understanding of it. I realized that Ignatian prayer is not simply to be identified with intense concentra-tion on scripture texts as found in the meditations and contemplations of the Spiritual Exercises. Prayer more characteristic of Ignatius is found in his Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love and flows from daily life. Observations of Ignatius at prayer, like the following recollection from one of Ignatius's first companions, assure me that I am on the right track: At night he would go up on the roof of the house, with the sky there up above him. He would sit there quietly, absolutely quietly. He would take his hat off and look up for a long time at the sky. Then he would fall on his knees, bowing profoundly to God. Then he would sit on a little bench because the weakness of his body did not allow him to take any other posi-tion. He would stay there bareheaded and without moving. And the tears would begin to flow down his cheeks like a stream, but so quietly and so gently that you heard not a sob nor a sigh nor the least possible movement of his body.7 Merton helped me internalize that hallmark of Ignatian spirituality "Finding God in all things." He also paved the way.for my understanding of Ignatius's discernment of spirits, but that is another article. I have asked myself why my journey into Ignatian spirituality took so long. I recognize now that Iowas blocked by invalid False Self assumptions. I needed Review for Religious someone to address them directly. In God's providence Thomas Merton was that person--the person who with God's grace most made me who I am today as a Catholic Christian. Notes 1 Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), pp. 33 & 36. Hereafter, in the text, Seeds. 2 Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 67. 3 David Steindl-Rast OSB, "Recollections of Thomas Merton's Last Day in the West," Monastic Studies, Vol. 7, pp. 1-10. 4 Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island (New York: Doubleday Image, 1955), p. 65. 5 Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander (New York: Doubleday Image, 1989), p. 156. 6 Inner Experience, pp. 300-301, taken from L.S. Cunningham, Thomas Merton: Spiritual Master (New York: Paulist Press, 1992). 7 W.W. Meissner SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Psychology of a Saint (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), p. 280. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Has Thomas Merton or another spiritual writer influenced my practices of the spiritual life? Like Hauser, how would I describe the change? 67.4 2008 RUTH BOLARTE Our Ethnicity en Route to God ~ elonging and "distinctness" are both .signifi- ~ cant dimensions of my life. Years ago I left my country of origin, Peru, and began religious life in the United States. During those first years, away from fam-ily and friends and the emotional and material support they had been for me, my desire and need to belong and be one of.the group made me conceal a part of myself, my Peruvian culture. My initial years of religious for-mation did not acknowledge my Hispanic heritage and the spiritual treasure it was. My being Hispanic was only a curious novelty, something to be asked a few questions about. Without any intentional fault of those guiding me on the spiritual journey, I neverthe-less received the unspoken message that I should abide by the new codes and values that were presented to me and somehow forget what I had learned in Peru Ruth Bolarte IHM, a member of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, is director of the Catholic Institute for Evangelization; 4404 North 5th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19140. Review for Religious about God, life, and people. Eventually, little by little, my God-friend became the God of rules and formality. Spontaneity, touching, and initiative disappeared, and a "prove yourself" attitude emerged. I believed in my heart that hard work, silence, and distance were the key to my religious life in the United States. In order to be recognized as one of the group, I adapted myself to the mainstream culture and disre-garded my images of God, of prayer, of life and death. When the opportunity presented itself, I limited my "ethnic sharing" to external aspects of culture: food, music, stories, and dance. These were safe issues and did not upset anyone. People, consciously or not, were simply not interested in listening with open hearts to the heart of my culture: my experiences of God through family, nature, joy, and suffering; my views on authority, poverty, power, or church. I was not raised with a code of beliefs and rules to obey. We.entrusted ourselves to a loving God who walked, ate, laughed, and cried with us throughout the events of our day. Church was not the only place where we could worship God. We gave glory and praise to God through our family celebrations, our processions, and our dead. In later years I would find out that my traditions of religion were what theologians and the church named "popular religigsity." Pope Paul vI explains this concept in his apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi: " One finds among the people particular expressions of the search for God and for faith, both in the regions where the church has been established for centuries and where she is in the course of becoming established. These expressions were for a long time regarded as less pure and were sometimes despised, but today they are almost everywhere being redis-covered. l 67.4 2008 Bolarte ¯ Our Etbnicity en Route to God The Holy Father explains that these religious expres-sions are susceptible to many misinterpretations. If, however, they are well oriented through the pedagogy of evangelization, they are rich in value since they reflect the thirst for God that 0nly the poor and simple can know. Popular religiosity is a major part of the spiritual life of Hispanic people. Hispanic spirituality is divine and human at the same time; it is incarnated spiritual-ity. 2 God is perceived as all-powerful, sovereign, and superior to all human beings, but also as a member of the family--someone who sits at the table and does not need a special invitation. God is not a far distant image in heaven; God is Emmanuel, always at our side, accom-panying us all day every step of the way. Since these expressions of faith were not acknowl-edged during my formation years, my cultural identity became dim. I only became aware of this only when I visited Peru after having lived in the United States for five years. I began to feel this tension between two seemingly opposite forces, my Pei'uvian culture and my adopted American one, between my yearning to "belong" and my efforts to hold on to my "distinctness." What a surprise it was to find that I did not "belong" anymore to the place where I had lived most of my life! Two cultures, American and Peruvian, had shaped me into a new person I only pardy understood. Returning to my homeland made me conscious that somehow my identity and personhood were rooted in both the American and Peruvian cultures. Once I became aware of this, I felt a need to inte-grate both cultures in my life, whether I resided in Peru or in the United States. The questions for ~e were, How do I do that? and who will understand? Many questions arose, 'and there was no one to talk to about Review for Religious them. Even though I had spiritual directors, I did not feel comfortable bringing up these "cultural" issues. For ten more years I lived with the questions and the ten-sions of being different and trying to belong to a com-munity, a parish, a church that was at the same time borne and foreign. During this time I learned to assert myself and prove to others that I was as capable and prepared as any other religious in the United States. I have come to believe that wholeness in our lives is a process of becoming,, something we undertake each day. Tension is an opportunity for growth and devel-opment. Becoming conscious of my longing to "belong" while also recogniz-ing my "uniqueness" and sense of inde-pendence marked the beginning of a long road borne. Only when I started to ask myself questions about my Latina identity, reading the works of various Hispanic theologians and reflecting critically on my experiences in the United States, was I able to be at borne with the tension of being part of two worlds. I had the opportunity for this reflection while doing the research for my thesis. After so many years living in the United States, I was finally able to name struggles and hurts, and more than anything I could identify, cel-ebrate, and rejoice in my cultural heritage. The tension I had felt became a source of wealth and fulfillment Becoming conscious of my longing to "belong" while also recognizing my "uniqueness" and sense of independence marked the beginning of a long road home. 361 67.4 2008 Bolarte ¯ Our Etbnicity en Route to God As my own "true self" was gradually revealed to me and then to others, a new person emerged, one that was freer to relate to God and others. rather than being a barrier to my social and personal development. The cultural wealth of our various ethnic groups, yours and mine, is a main component in our human and spiritual development. It is crucial that those involved in religious formation, spiritual direction, and ministry consider the cultural factors in people's spir-itual journeys. People need a sense of belong-ing and historical con-tinuity. If we deny our family origins and his-tory, we deny ourselves. 0nly when we feel affirmed in our identity can we be free, open, and welcoming to other cultural groups. On the other hand, people often develop a sense of inferiority, a poor self-image, when they feel minimized or attacked in their ethnic identity. In many cases these feelings become a defen-sive or aggressive attitude toward the dominant ethnic group or toward other minority ethnic groups. Since spirituality involves all aspects of life--psy-chological, physical, social, and political--we need to recognize that all cultural groups have distinctive ways of facing life, sickness, family, power, pain, and death. An inte, grated spirituality recognizes that all of our lives must be subjected to the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. We hear and appropriate the Good News of Jesus from our various cultural perspectives. Those perspectives influence how we understand the message Review for Religious and how we respond to it. Vgho can be sure of a univer-sal description that is the norm for all? The ministry of Jesus is to reveal the meaning of life and offer humanity an opportunity to enter freely into a loving relationship with God as adult daughters and sons. Because an important root of spirituality is found in the self, we must integrate the psychological value of self-affirmation, self-fulfillment, or self-realization with the Christian tradition of self-denial, self-emptying, or self-surrender. From the moment of birth we seek in our human development a proper balance, the right connectedness with others and the right separateness from others. The challenge for everyone is to achieve relatedness without symbiotic engulfment and indepen-dence without alienation and emptiness. As my own "true self" was gradually revealed to me and then to others, a new person emerged, one that was freer to relate to God and others. In faith I had the power to respond to the gift of my being and abandon the "false self" of pretenses; concealments, and fears. It was this "false self" that I was called to deny, the self that hid my ethnicity. Thomas Merton summarizes this dynamic when he affirms that if we find God we find ourselves and if we find our own selves we find God.3 For Merton, maturing in the spiritual life is a discov-ery journey, the discovery of oneself and of God. One of the tasks of those involved in faith formation is to search for and reveal the seed of God that is already there in her and her culture. They must lead her to recognize Christ in herself and challenge those aspects of her which need purification so the complete image of God can be revealed. All through human development, critical reflection is required. As people grow in maturity, there is a shift 363 67.4 2008 Bolarte * Our Etbnicity en Route to God from being acted on by the world to acting on the world. In my experience of tension between two worlds, it was only when I internalized and reflected on being a part of two cultures that I could incorporate the tension into who I was. Duringthis internalization, I needed to grieve my cultural losses, experience the pain of the hurts, and forgive those who purposely or not had discriminated against me. Sometimes people do not perceive that ignoring cultural differences is a form of discrimination: it deprives someone of her distinctive cultural identity, the unique person she was created to be. Our spiritual journey in Christ requires accepting that our worth, our value, our selfhood as children of God is given to us as our birthright. It means knowing deeply that we are known, loved, and invited to partnership in being with the God who from all eternity intended us and who desires our love. To answer the question "Who am I?" we need to incorporate all our past--including the past of our family, culture, religion, and national group. Only this person can be the subject of our own destiny. Knowing that I am loved by God, I need not live in anxi-ety, or seek affirmation through achievement or some other form of power, for I learn to accept imperfections and strengths, my own and others'. God's grace invites us to become the persons we were created to be. God's love does not absorb, anni-hilate, or force itself upon the beloved. Instead it longs for the beloved to become more and more "other" or differentiated. Without such "letting be" of the beloved, the dialogical intimacy essential to a loving relation-ship would be impossible. God allows unique persons to emerge and become capable of deep relationships because, God, "how could you give yourself to me unless you had fii'st given me to myself?.''4 Review for Religious By no means is my endeavor to integrate cultures within myself and my religious life a finished task. It is a process that every day makes use of the newness I encounter in the many kinds of relationship in my life. Sometimes I long for the support of my Anglo friends because they can understand my experience; other times I look for my Latino support group because they can feel forme. There are times when I feel alienated from one or both of the cultures, like a fish out of water; at other times I am tired of the tension of the two worlds and I just want to run and hide. Being a "bridge per-son"-- gente puente--is dangerous business. One takes the risk of being hurt or judged--becoming the scape-goat for one of the cultural groups. At these times I remember Who called me to be a Latina woman reli-gious evangelizing in the United States. God is the one who gifts me with the ability to interact with two ethnic groups. Yes, the gift entails pain and suffering--dying to my "false self." But in Jesus' resurrection I find the hope and joy of new life and the courage to continue living in a tension that is a source of new life for many, including me. Notes ~ Pablo VI, Evangelii nuntiandi (On Evangelization in the Modern World), §48. 2 Rosa Marfa Icaza, "Prayer, Worship, and Liturgy in a United States Hispanic Key," in Frontiers of Hispanic Theology in the United States, ed. Allan Figueroa Deck (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995), p. 136. 3 Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation (New York: Dell, 1960), p. 53. 4 Cited by Nicholas of Cusa as quoted in John Haught, God aj%r Darwin (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 2000), p. 40. 67.4 2008 heart BEATRICE EICHTEN Constitutions and Heart Knowledge knowledge 366 In this article I suggest that religious--you and I, wherever we are--reflect on our vari-ous constitutions, on what we say about our life together and on how we live what we say. For most congregations the original con-stitutions antedate all the members. They were written to carry the inspiration and hopes of founders, foundresses, and early members regarding the possibility of living the gospel with charismatic idealism and practical action. They contain many elements--identity, vowed life, community, mission, prayer, membership, governance, and stewardship--all matters of relationship. After Vatican Council II ~any members were involved in adapting to the changing times. This called for re-visioning and revising the constitutions and having them Beatrice Eichten OSF here offers an adaptation of words to a Franciscan Sister's community. Her address is/577 Huff Street, #1; Winona, Minnesota 55987. eichten.consuldng@gmail.com Review for Religious approved. Now, many years later, it may be helpful to review our constitutions and ask (possibly in a second-ary document) how our community life and governance are lived today. This would be a practical effort, not an academic one. In the fast pace of life today, with many calls on our attention, have we lost touch with the heart of who we are and why we are here? Few members entered their community because they read compelling statements in their congregation's con-stitution, and it is surely the same today. Women enter a community because they are drawn to members who embody its charism, who have been claimed as God's own and who love and live for, hope and work for, God's kingdom on earth. Such women have the energy and spirit of the founders and the early members. They may not be able to quote the constitution, but they know its values and challenges. They have "heart knowledge" of their constitution, from their experience in the presence of God and their community. One could say that they know their constitution "by heart." Their lives express their constitution, the dreams and hopes and challenges it contains. We all know persons like this--we may even be one! How do people acquire that "heart knowledge"? By persistence. I am reminded of my training as apastoral psychotherapist. We were told that only after we learned the training center's theory well would we know when to adapt or depart from it. I remember the foundational text--it was like reading a foreign language! I read it diligently, paragraph by paragraph. Some sentences were a paragraph long! I would read them several times silently, and then out loud. I even underlined the sub-ject, verb, and object as I tried to figure out what they meant. Bit by bit, as I studied the text and saw it used 367 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge by skillful practitioners, I came to know and understand the theory very well. The text became a practical work-ing document for me, one that was useful and which I felt comfortable adapting as needed. Your constitution is like that. It captures the funda-mentals of your way of life--who you say you are as a congregation and how you will live your life together. As you study it and live it, you begin to live it "by heart." You make some adaptations that are, hopefully, faithful to the intent of the original document. After a while you live your life without conscious reference to your constitution--and you may have lost some of the motivation and challenge it carries. A wise Sufi teacher said of the Koran that'it is like a map. If it is used well, if you follow the rivers of life it charts out for you, it helps you make progress in living a faithful life. If you do not use it, why have it? But, he added, it is important to remember that, unlike maps, rivers change course over time. If you insist on follow-ing the river as it is mapped, you will miss the flow of life. Our constitutions are like that map, and charism, vows, and mission are rivers of our lives. Vghen maps are used wisely, they help. Ernie Larkin OCarm offers another image for our constitutions. He says we "emphasize the presence of God in all things, but may tend to forget the envelope that contains it." Our constitutions are the envelope that contains the essentials of our community way of life, essentials that are "the medium through which God comes." Our constitutions contain our "Now," which is "the only place where one can meet God." Fundamentally, then, constitutions exist to articu-late "heart knowledge," and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes Review for Religious them. St. Clare of Assisi was aware of this. She insisted that her Rule, the guideline for the Poor Ladies' reli-gious life, express clearly her sisters' impulse in coming together. Essential to her vision was the privilege of poverty, a privilege and obli-gation which she insisted be written into their official Rule. It contained inspiration or poetry along with obliga-t_ ion or requirement. It became a living document when its followers lived by it. C.S. Lewis expresses the idea: "poetry replaces grammar, gospel replaces law, longing transforms obedience." Constitutions contain both inspiration and require-ments. Congregations sometimes register only the inspi-ration while bypassing the requirements. Sometimes they bypass the inspiration and register only the require-ments-- and chafe at them. So how do we make our constitutions truly living documents that honor both poetry and obligation? In our relationships with God and one another, do we "mind the music and the step"? Are joyful inspiration and gracefully disciplined foot-work changing us into Jesus' disciples? Fundamentally, then, constitutions exist to articulate "heart knowledge," and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes them. Conversion Religious constitutions come from our relationship with God, from our desire to let God be the center of our life. There are different ways to do this. Franciscan 369 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge constitutions seek conversion of life. The Third Order Regular Rule of St. Francis says this: "With all., who wish to serve the Lord; the brothers and sisters of this order are to persevere in true faith and penance. They wish to live this evangelical conversion of life in a spirit of prayer, of poverty, and of humility." You and I know that conversion is not a comfortable experience, nor is it one you can program for yourself: "I think that this year I will be converted to poverty, or nonviolence, or . " Typically, conversion comes to us unbidden, in ways that surprise and perturb us. Dr. Ann Ulanov, a Jungian psychoanalyst, says: "Being truth-ful with ourselves can be messy business. [We think] the illusions we have created . . . will be more readily received than our true self." She goes on to say that we all have protective armor which can look like virtue or competence or generosity. Nonetheless, it is armor designed to hide our wounds and messiness and keep us safe and protected. The human reality is that those very wounds create chinks in our armor. Conversion occurs because God will always find the chinks and slip through them to unsettle us and invite us to make "soul decisions," decisions to recommit our hearts to a pilgrim's journey in witness to the gospel. Soul decisions open us to be changed by God's abundant love into true disciples. Sister Helen Prejean resisted the gospel's social-justice dimension until, at a presentation by Sister Maria Augusta Neal, she heard the phrase "integral to the Good News was that they would be poor no lon-ger." Helen adds, "And I got it. She cracked me open." Perhaps her very resistance was the source of that con-version moment. She moved a year later from a suburb to a housing project that was "less than five miles . . . Review for Religious but it was galaxies away." She could not have done that without a profound soul decision. How do our relationships in community open us to "soul decisions" or conversion moments? I see four movements. Relationship with God We all entered a communal life of prayer and con-templation, of working relationships, and of minis-try that fulfills and stretches us. Communal life, lived fully, offers ample opportunities for conversion. Parker Palmer says we enter religious life with the illusion that outside there is jealousy, compe-tition, resentment, power struggle, status difference, and more, but in religious life there will be only love, sharing, working together, generosity, equality, and so forth. We find, however, after living in a religious community for a while, that people are the same both inside and outside religious life. We pour effort into learning to commu-nicate, to deal with conflict, to share our faith, to do many other things, hoping thereby to have the perfect community. Guess what? Even if we do learn all these things, there is still iealousy, resentment, and failure. We learn that there is no perfect community. We have to face, says Palmer, our "illusion of salva-tion by interaction." In the face of contradictions and In our constitutions and in our living of them we are called to center our lives on God, realizing that God longs for us and desires our love. 371 67.4 2008 , Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge differences, we are called to "go deep inside [ourselves] beyond the polarities to a place of unity where every-thing holds together." We know that place as God. Etty Hillesum says of this place: "There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there too." In the midst of our real relationships, in our prayer and letting go and giving over to God, we move to the awareness that salvation is from God. We only come to know that when we come to know the mystery of God--that God is for us and is given to us. In our constitutions and in our living of them we are called to center our lives on God, realizing that God longs for us and desires our love. Coming to believe this leads us to have room for others, seeing.in them the face of Jesus, accepting, lov-ing, and receiving them because God loves them and receives them. This leads me to the second interper-sonal movement. Relationship with Others in Community Our commitment to life in community is not some-thing casual or optional. It is a lifelong commitment to our congregation, to its shared life in the Spirit, and to its members rights and responsibilities. As members we are interdependent financially, structurally, and relation-ally. Sandra Schneiders says that a constitutive element of communitarian life is "a permanent acceptance of the community itself as the primary and determining rela-tional context of one's life." It means loving, and living today at this particular time, in this particular commu-nity, with these particular women--with all our gifts, limitations, and idiosyncrasies. Our diversity is "authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery diversity poses no Review for Religious threat to unity." When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a special moment for conversation and conversion. We realize that diversity need not be a threat to unity. Rather, in our diversity, we realize the need to make "a commitment to sustained and deliber-ate conversation for the purpose of achieving a common ground." Michael Blastic OFMConv points to St. Francis as a prime example of relationships with the other: Francis allows the other to be other. His sense of self is an openness to and for the other. Francis continu-ously looks to the Other, Jesus Christ, as the content of his self. By definition. Francis's self was room for the other. Francis was "a person in full possession of him-self, but [was] never by himself. In order to be an example for others, Francis needed to work at being himself---it did not come naturally., for him. Fran-cis did not nor could he accomplish this identity for himself by himself. One cannot become a self with room for others by oneself for oneself. In our constitutions we call ourselves to this kind of awareness of the other, challenging ourselves to embrace diversity within the congregation as a sign of the Spirit and, by doing so, to proclaim the possibility of harmony on earth. Accepting diversity, however, does not mean that individualism reigns, even though we remain differ-ent and retain our unique characteristics (the only way we each have to express our humanity). Accepting our diversity enables us to give a countercultural witness to a new kind relationship, a relationship based on unity, on a mutuality where there is no "other." This witness of community, says John Allen, a Catholic newspaper cor- 373 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge respondent in Rome, is the most powerful gift we have to offer our fragmented and troubled world today. Relationship for Mission We are in our religious community not simply for ourselves. Our vowed commitment "does not exist within the individual alone, but within the context of community . . . a community fully engaged in con-versation about its life." The mission statement in my community's constitution challenges us to "be a com-munity of compassion, reconciliation, and reverence for all creation, to rebuild our own society, and to reach out in solidarity to our sisters and brothers throughout the world." Becoming part of the spirit and flow of energy that is our religious community stretches us and opens us to God's great energy working in the world today. As reli-gious we have a great responsibility. We need to know and to claim that we are the face of God to those around us, and we need to open our eyes and hearts to see the face of God in creation and in every creature. How we live that responsibility is a challenge. Marie Chin RSM, in a presentation to my Franciscan community, said that we are challenged to take a crucial step in recognizing that we can no longer equate community with mere group living or, to put it more blundy, simply living under the same roof for expediency or convenience. Community has to be for a greater project than self. Somehow we have to change our root image of community as a place of security where we have all our needs met and instead begin to explore the chal-lenges of justice, the challenges of forming relation-ships that are right and just and which are potentially present in community. Review for Religious Her challenge confronts our tendency to become, as Laurie Brink OP says "settled religious, [who have] lost sight of the power and passion of our original covenant with God." It is not that we are not involved in commu-nity life or engaged in a valued ministry, but rather that we are settling for comfort and "good enough"--which in turn means liv-ing with little zest and passion for life and ministry. It means not being willing to take risks or make changes that might unset-tle. Ron Rolheiser OMI says that the problem for reli-gious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things, but that we are not great people. We have settled for giving ninety percent of ourselves and held on to the ten percent that would give witness to the pas-sion and energy of God alive in us. When we entered, I would guess, we wanted to give ourselves a hundred percent. Avis Clendenen offers an interesting reflection on how we may have adapted Jeremiah's response to God "from 'too young' to 'too old'; Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says, "Do not say 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Are we holding back? Can we live more fully every moment of our life today and on into the future? The problem for religious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things, but that we are not great people. 67.4 2008 Eicbten * Constitutions and Heart Knowledge 376 Relationship with Structure and Authority Our constitutions are about holding with care the relationships that shape our life together. They assume and emphasize our relationship with God, which in turn is expressed in relationships with other members and associates and with the church and society. Treating these relationships with care can only happen when both members and leaders take seriously their responsibility as part of community. As individuals, you bring your personal power to the community, ideally making it a force for growth, bridge building, and healing, rather than a force for negativ-ity, divisiveness, and controlling behavior. Together you affirm that your congregation is there to facilitate your religious way of life and your ministry, and you accept responsibility as members to participate in defining and working towards the purpose of your community. The goal of your congregation's governance is to exemplify and facilitate the living of your congregation's charism, weaving "the organizational elements of shared values, mission, and vision and translating tl~em into reality, into a course of action." In the governance of our religious congregations, we have various indications of history and personality. Rigid authority structures have left many with scars and cautions, and efforts towards new models of communal living have not always been successful. Leadership functions amid our practice and expec-tations of ourselves as members of our communities. Patricia Wittberg SC offers three models of relation-ships of community and authority. Hierarchical/Bureaucratic Model: This model offers an organized way to carry out the purpose and mission of the congregation. The value it emphasizes is effi- Review for Religious ciency; the mode of operation is dependency. Power and authority are concentrated at the top and flow downward, as does communication. There is little individual responsibility. The young are mentored, and the model can continue without changing. Every congregation has some elements of hierarchy/bureau-cracy which are needed for effective functioning of an organization. Associational Modek This model values individual fulfill-ment; the individual "I" is at the center of the model. Relationships are one-on-one and dependent on the individual's choice of persons to whom s/he wishes to relate, both within'the organization and outside it. Persons live as if this were a professional organiza-tion where membership is equated with paying one's dues or meeting basic requirements and participating as one wishes. Leadership is often not acknowledged or is reluctant to call for difficult actions on the part of members. This model is not likely to reproduce into the next generation. Communitarian/Relational/Intentional Modek The value for this model is the common good; interdependence is the desired mode of operation. Relationships and communication are mutual and are focused around a sense of common identity--"we" with members and leaders working together for common goals. In this model, individual members are willing to sacrifice or limit some personal goals for the common good. There is a mutual shaping of the future. Wittberg says today'~ congregations have their ¯ Toe in the Hierarchical/Bureaucratic model; ¯ Torso in the Association model; ¯ Hand reaching out to the Communitarian model, but fearful of sacrifice or of retreat to the Hierarchical model. She offers this reflection: Religious congregations, precariously balanced between the competing commitment models of 67.4 2008 Eichten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge 378 ] bureaucracies and intentional communities, may. ¯ have mutually contradictory expectations of their leadership or of their members . Congregatio.ns which refrain from addressing the ambiguous roles of leadership [I would add membership] may miss discov-ering creative and psychologically healthy new ways of filling them. Most communities, I wager, create goals based on the Communitarian model while denying or not acknowledging that the other models exist and may even predominate. There is no right/wrong, good/bad to any model; each has good elements. It might be worthwhile to reflect together on the blessings and challenges of each model as you experience them in your community. The challenge may be to identify and implement the best elements in each as we move into the future. Governance is part of the process of communal transformation. It invites members to a continual com-munal effort toward conversion of heart, mind, and spirit. We bring together our individual selves with our dreams, passions, idiosyncrasies, and personal power. Through the design of our constitution, we seek together the common good for the sake of the gospel. We are one with many, experiencing a range of relation-ships that offer the possibility of transformations into people mutually empowering and accountable. All of these relationships--with God, with one another, with authority, and in mission--are what constitutes your religious congregation and mine. Relationship calls for risk, trust, hope, and moments of conversion, moments to be followed up with firm "soul decisions" to give our all to God's grand dream "that all may be one." Review for Religious Personal Reflection / Group Discussion "Fundamentally constitutions exist to articulate 'heart knowledge,' and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes them." Have I experienced a "heart knowledge" approach to the reading and study of the constitutions of my congrega-tion? What are some necessary steps for me to take in order to read the constitutions in such a way? What happens to me when I approach the constitutions of my congregation in terms of relationship~to God, to community, and to mission? How do I understand my relationship to structure and authority? Dark Matter It should not surprise us that we encounter darkness and unknowingness within; two-thirds of the cosmos is dark energy and we are offspring of that unfolding mystery, pregnant with possibilities, gestating, incubating in our wombs. The shapeless masses and undeveloped forms lie clogged in a fathomless morass, yet the Potter takes the no-thingness, gently birthing it into a new creation. Barbara Mayer OSB 379 67.4 2008 NESTOR GREGOIRE Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 380 ~iin every religious congregation the religious Rule s the distillation of the community's spirit, ideals, goals, and governance. It is the result of years of reflec-tion and prayer, revisions and constitutional changes. It is meant to be the mission statement (long before the term was ever developed) of all the members of the religious congregation: novices, newly professed, and those with perpetual vows. But have the rules become too much a document of doctrinal values and governance procedures in too nar-row a sense? While they are read and studied, reflected upon and taught in many conferences, are they a source of nourishment at the grass roots? Do we consult the Rule Book about what to do, or do we use it for prayer and as inspiration for our prayer, our liturgy, and the community's day-to-day life? Is it more reference book than prayer book? Nestor Gregoire OMI lives at 504 - 3rd Avenue East; Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan; S9X 1H5 Canada. olppastor@sasktel.net Review for Religious How do the Rule Book and the constitutions serve your congregation? Is it very directive, constricting the community's life and spirit, or does it improve vision and expand the horizons of community members? Does the text go beyond expressing doctrinal correctness and touch the community's lived experience? How does the Rule actually fit in the day-to-day living of the local community? Do particular rules have noticeable par-ticular effects? Are there unintended consequences? The Rule Book must be more than a reference book that the novices study, consult, and know parts of from memory. It must become user friendly and be a living part of the community's prayer life. A good indicator of this would be how worn the pages of our personal copy of the Rule Book are. Are they library fresh, or do they have fingerprints, personal notations, and other signs of frequent use? Does the book appear to be one that is close to the heart of a community member? User Friendly Each community can work to make the Rule user friendly in its own way. There are many ways that indi-viduals and communities can find to do this and thereby nourish their own and the community's spiritual life. No one size fits all. Be creative. In the publishing world there have always been meditation books to serve our prayer and reflection, often with a page containing one thought or insight for each day of the year. The reader need not delve into a developed chapter. Often religious congregations will prepare a book of meditations for each day of Lent and Advent and send it out to their members. One of the best ways to make the Rule Book user friendly is to ask members of the community to develop 381 67.4 2008 Gregoire * Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 382 a series of meditations and prayers that arise from the values, the vision, and the actual words of the rules. What themes recur frequently throughout the rules? What resources are there available to assist reflecting and praying about the meaning and implications of indi-vidual rules and their contexts? With the Rule Book as our source document, it is possible-to develop a series of meditations which incor-porate the values and teachings of general chapters, writings of our congregation's past and present spiri-tual teachers, and stories of members who served well, lived the charism with joy, and even may have given the congregation its particular tone. Bring the character and flair of these members to the meditations. The stories and the experience of members who have preceded us can help us discover in the Rule mean-ings that are new to us. Each congregation's Rule Book did take on flesh, in joy and tears, in earlier members. What possibilities does the same Rule challenge us to try and perhaps fulfill today? By preparing a series of meditations on the rules and constitutions of my own congregation, the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, I discovered new connections being made between the documents of the past four general chapters, the talks of our superior general, and the text of the Rule. New depths appeared in my own under-standing of our "mission statement." The Founder's Writings There are many opportunities to take bite-size quo-tations and insights from the talks and writings of the founder to flesh out the meaning of particular state-ments in the Rule: We can parallel today's text with passages which ring with the conviction of the founding Review for Religious members. The writings of the founder and founding members can help us appreciate and integrate the offi-cial text into our daily lives. Using the actual words of our congregation's founder can develop a fuller understanding and application of this particular rule. Our understanding of the present text must not be based only on its meaning on the page. It must be broadened to the possibilities that are given to it through the insights of our foundation documents and the firstmissionary endeavors. Allow the writings of the founder and the early members to give new flesh to our understanding of our community charism, the religious values and idealism of our institute. When we try to broaden the possibilities for new insights into and understanding of the Rule, we can find togetherness and nourishment in our foun-dational days and in our church's mission in our mod-ern world. Not only must we seek the contributions of the past to our living the Rule today, but we must be receptive to the new insights and challenges that our situation brings to the Rule. The Rule must always be in dialogue, giving to and receiving from our current mission work, our reflections, and our prayer. Daily Prayer The words of the Rule can be used in composing prayers for the community's daily life. Take individual statements of our rules and constitutions and adapt them into prayers of intercession for the daily office. A little editing can bring the rules' clear and concise statements into our prayer with God. Here are two examples, from our Oblate Constitutions and Rules. The text is not just read but becomes a living part of our prayer. 67.4 2008 Gregoire ¯ Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? Leader: Lord Jesus, may we always work in cooperation with you, our Savior, and imitate your example-- Response: --by committing ourselves principally to evan-gelizing the poor (Constitution #1). Leader: We pray that the community of the Apostles may with you, our Jesus, be the model of our life (Constitution #3). Response: May we come together in apostolic communi-ties of priests and brothers, united to God by the vows of religion, cooperating with you, our Savior (Constitution #1). We must search for other places in the Rule that can be used in composing new prayers for various community gatherings: at the beginning of meet-ings, on renewal days, at funeral prayer services, and so forth. 384 Poetry and Song Our Rules are meant to be user friendly, to be alive in us, to be at home in our emotions and in our heartfelt prayers. They must touch us in order to move us, to energize us tolive the religious values and the charism our Rule expresses. In her classroom a good teacher makes sure that her students not only pay attention and read the lesson on the board, but also write it, sing it, recite it, and put it .into bodily motion whenever possi-ble. There are so mgny ways that lessons can and should become part of her students' minds and hearts and lives. Too often our religious Rule has been limited to the printed text. Can we express it in new ways? One of the most underused possibilities for our Rule to become more user friendly is to turn it into poetry and song. Where are the gems of religious thought that are seeking to get off official printed pages and be sung Review for Religious as proof of our willing service of Christ and as ways to bring joy and love to the poor? Has the text of our Rule ever become a hymn or a refrain? Have we asked the poets in our midst to look at the Rule and allow the poetic muse to bring forth through them new pic-tures for our imaginations, fresh words that touch our hearts? And what of the photographers, the painters, and those who can sketch? Can they create visual expres-sions of the valued teachings in our Rule? Can the text evoke in them color, pattern, and depth that they can share? For the next community gathering, can one of our photographers bring together a collection of sym-bolic photos and significant texts to help us see our Rule in new and vibrant ways? Let the imagination within your community enable your Rule to be absorbed by your community through all five senses. How else? Let me draw a picture from many a childhood. Will your community's Rule Book be like an encyclopedia that was bought years ago to give the children a learning atmosphere but was hardly ever used? Or will it be like your mother's cookbook, tat-tered, pages falling out or sticking together, scribblings in the margin, flour stains, memories of mother calling us or fragrances inviting us to just-baked cinnamon rolls or to supper? Cookbook, prayer book, rule book--all redolent of love and devotion and sharing. How differ-ent are they? 67.4 2008 JOEL RIPPINGER Monasticism' s Rooted Adaptations ~f~irtainlmg oass ta f porrotyfe ysseeadr sm ionn ak cwohmom hausn liitvye odf Benedictines, I am aware of the reality that, at the beginning of the third millennium, monasteries of men and women living according to the Benedictine Rule constitute an endangered species. We run the risk of becoming an exotic form of religious expression, with our communities acquiring the character of religious theme parks and our spiritual tradition being taken over by increasing numbers of nonprofessed laypersons intensely attracted to the monastic charism. Several developments have been part of this phe-nomenon. Vocations to vowed monasticism have been in decline for some years, especially in North America and Europe, and that course seems to be continuing. With this decline there has been a marked increase of lay oblates and affiliates to monastic communities. Joel Rippinger OSB writes again from Marmion Abbey; 850 Butterfield Road; Aurora, Illinois 60504. Religious Many of those bringing with them this new interest in monastic life have adopted and are putting into prac-tice much of this ancient heritage. Indeed, one of the remarkable aspects of the recent rise in popularity of all things monastic has been the spate of books and articles by such non-Catholic and nonprofessed writers as Kathleen Norris. Norris and others have brought to monastic life both an inherent sympathy for its spiritual character and an outsider's insights into its distinctive charism. They have brought to wide circles of believers their insights into monastic common life and liturgical prayer. The contemporary phrase "family values" has a spiritual counterpart in what book publishers have pro-moted as monastic values. In fact, it seems that attaching the very word Benedictine or monastic to any book can assure many readers. The number expands when it takes in American and British television productions chroni-cling life inside monasteries for visitors from outside the cloister. The recent surprise hit from the Grande Chartreuse in the French Alps, "Into Great Silence," was an exploration of the most austere monastic order, the Carthusians. All of this has generated some striking spiritual scenarios. Increasing numbers of the laity are seeking retreats and spiritual direction at monastic houses, even as the professed monastic men and women struggle to maintain sufficient staff to care for their visitors' needs. Diocesan priests, who once were sent unwillingly to monasteries as a place to be disciplined and do pen-ance, now willingly sacrifice time and personal comfort to make personal retreats in the solitude and silence of monastic guest rooms. A cottage industry has arisen to publish material on St. Benedict's Rule as a model for corporate management, ecological balance, and family 67.4 2008 Rippinger ¯ Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations The hospitality called for in the monastic tradition trumps demands for orthodoxy or religious conversion, life. And, as we have said, programs of spirituality are likely to attract sincere searchers if they use the terms Benedictine or monastic in their publicity. At one level, all of this is cause for rejoicing. An ancient and revered tradition of spiritual formation and communal observance has been retrieved. What only a few decades ago many considered an arcane and irrelevant current of church life is now prized as a source from which to draw the gospel's living waters. Nor does it hurt that monasticism repre-sents a strain of tra-dition that antedates the Reformation and the more polemi-cal and controver-sial categories of the Catholic Church's public profile. Protestants and other non-Catholics come to pray and to dialogue in monastic settings, and they feel at home. The hospitality called for in the monastic tradition trumps demands for orthodoxy or religious con-version. Moreover, the sacred space of monastic cloisters attracts an intriguing variety of searchers. There are those seeking the soundness and insights of spiritual direction, pursuing like Tony Hendra the wisdom of the "Father Joes." There are those drawn by the aesthetic appeal of Gregorian chant and the spare beauty, not of bare ruined choirs, but of natural landscape and architecture that inte-grates silence and a life shared in community. There are those who, caught in the frenzy and rootlessness of what passes for contemporary culture, see in the deep-rooted witness of monastic communities a safe haven. Review for Religious At another level, there is cause for concern. The fact that some monastic communities are dying is a reminder that this is part of a historical cycle that has been in place for well over 1500 years. The dying also alerts us to an unsettling prospect for the near term. There will be fewer and smaller communities of pro-fessed monastic men and women in North America and in first-world countries generally, along with the emer-gence of an ever larger number of nonprofessed devo-tees of all things monastic. The irony here has already been referred to. Devout "outsiders" come to a monas-tery today for the experience of leisure and for restful rhythms of prayer, but they also expect to encounter monastics, whose own time for spiritual direction and holy leisure is now much eroded from what it was in an era of bulging novitiates. It may in fact be a blessing that the outsiders look-ing over the cloister wall are now faced with the real-ity of human struggle and imperfection that is always present in monastic enclosure, but too often in the past has been disguised by various romantic views of monas-tic life. The economy of monasteries is of a piece with its marginal status in society--always a bit parlous and never capable of assuring a comfort zone for those who are committed to it. At the same time the interface with a nonmonastic public has changed. The services pro-vided by the larger monastic communities have evolved with the passage of time. No longer anchored exclu-sively in such institutional ministry as education or pas-toral care, many of the more contemplative houses now emphasize the signature monastic marker of hospital-ity. Monasteries that were once remote in both a physi-cal and a psychological sense now have accessible Web sites and accommodating retreat centers. While some of 67.4 2008 Rippinger * Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations Monasteries of the third millennium have broader borders their contact with an outside public entails the selling of caskets and caramels, fruitcakes and jam, greeting cards and icons, another dimension consists in offering guests the freedom of a room without HBO or wireless com-puter hookup, but with the amplified sounds of nature and the silence of the cloister. The counsel of a wisdom figure and the simple rhythms of a daily round of prayer and work constitute for many guests the unique spiritual ambience of monastic hospitality. If monastic life has been de-romanticized in recent years, it has also been given a wider religious compass. Monasteries of ~e third millennium have broader bor-ders than their predecessors. An international com-munity like Taiz6 illustrates an ele-ment of young than their predecessors, people that is quite at home in the lit-urgy and life of a monastic commu-nity. Thomas Merton would no doubt be impressed at how his Trappist community at Gethsemani recently invited a number of victims of clergy sex abuse to their community to have the monks hear their stories. The spirit of ecumenism and religious renewal heralded by Vatican Council II is incorporated in the variegated communities of Bose and its satellite houses in Italy. The number of non-Catholic and non-Christian com-munities that have claimed monastic connections in recent years is not small. These include not just tra-ditional communities of the Anglican and Lutheran tradition that follow the Benedictine Rule, but variants Revie~v for Religious of the Orthodox faith that follow the different forms of Eastern monasticism. This has led to some fascinat-ing boundary crossing, such as Pentecostal seminarians in Missouri taking regular weekend retreats at a local Trappist monastery or a Monastic Institute sponsored by St. John's Abbey in Minnesota inviting representa-tives from Buddhist and Islamic traditions to speak of monastic hospitality. A measured look at the future should not induce too much anxiety. Monasticism in the third millennium can count on doing what it has always done: adapt its timeless liturgical round and its particular work of com-munity life to fit the needs of a changing world and ever more complex demands. To do that in a way that is faithful to its spiritual pedigree and open to a wider public will require drawing both old and new from its storehouse. The shape of a future monastic identity will have less to do with drawing people by the charm of its physical surroundings and more with the substance of spiritual life. However newly configured it becomes in the course of the coming generations, one can only hope that monasteries will remain places where a wide variety of people can find a place of peace, a place where the work of inner transformation can be encouraged and expedited. 391 67.4 2008 WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Hope spiritual reflection An Irish-American author, by the name of Frank O'Connor, writing of his growing up in Ireland, told how he and his pals enjoyed hiking in the countryside. Sometimes they would come to a wall separating one farm from another, a wall that seemed too high to scale. They would then toss their caps over it and thus be motivated to scale it. When obstacles daunt, we need to use our hope like those caps. In one of Graham Greene's novels, a man speaks of hope in a strange way. He refers to it as a disease. If it is a disease, it is a disease which both comforts and strengthens and is an antidote for the cancer of despair. We very much need hope after all the disheartening things we have experienced in our world and in our church in recent years. We need hope William P. Clark O!VII, in active retirement from teach-ing philosophy, writes from St. Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. Revi~-w for Religious in our own public and private lives. Charles Spurgeon offers a good image of hope: "Hope is like a star--not seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only discovered in the night of adversity." Hope seems especially important as we grow older. As adults we come to realize that choices really do not exist in the way we thought they would when we were children. We expected the regal power of adulthood to provide clarity and insight and control. In the light of humbling realizations, hope takes on increased impor-tance. According to an oft-quoted saying of Julian of Norwich, "The highest honor we can give God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of that love." We can give God that honor only through faith and hope. We know of God's love through faith. The primary object of hope--and our destiny--is to be perfectly united with God in love. Diametrically opposed to hope is the belief that existence is meaningless. If existence has no mean-ing, why would anyone want to continue living? One of our most intimate experiences is of ourselves as incomplete, as unfinished. As someone put it, "In this life there are no finished symphonies." We are drawn beyond anything we manage to achieve. Regardless of the level at which we find ourselves, we feel an attrac-tion to something still higher. In a certain sense, we leave every achievement behind in the very moment of accomplishment. When we achieve what we most want, our pleasure in it often fades. We even may be most acutely aware of our failures precisely when, after some achievement, someone praises us for it. Even in our achievements, we experience the need to go beyond where we are. We still hunger for what is "not yet." Desire outstrips satisfaction. Desire or longing is a driv- 393 67.4 2008 Clark * Revisiting Hope ing force in our lives. It can show itself as aching pain or as hope. As Christians we deal with the future by choosing to believe that life, not death, is the ultimate reality. We choose to turn continuously to our God in hope. That hope rests on the conviction that we are free and thus we have real control over our future. We can turn from where we are to what we want to be. Hope is confidence in God's power to do all things. Hope is the "nevertheless" of faith. In spite of every contradiction, we believe in the divine life within us and that God will bring it to completion if we but persevere in trust. We believe God will preserve and guide the church. Sometimes believing those things is difficult. That is why we must again and again ask the Lord to strengthen our hope. Hope might well be described as the dynamic force of faith and love. Because we are pilgrims, because we. do not see God and do not yet share God's love defini-tively, our faith and our love need to be permeated with hope. We know we cannot attain final fulfillment on earth. We know equally well how decisive our life on earth is in regard to final fulfillment. It is through hope that we press on. Hope offers a vision beyond the inevitable difficul-ties of our human condition, beyond human suffering and even death. It is hope that enables us to choose life, even in a deathlike situation. In hope we trust God can bring life out of death. Sooner or later virtually every-one has to face a deathlike situation in which they are challenged to choose life. It is a deathlike situation to be forced (in fear) to enter long-term nursing care. It looks like the end of the road, the gateway to death. From a purely human Revie~ for Religious point of view, there seems nothing to look forward to except the loss of privacy and freedom, humiliating dependence, chronic pain, and loneliness. To many it appears worse than death. How do people find the courage to carry on in such a situation except through hope? Persons with severe disabilities, persons who have undergone some crushing loss or misfortune, how can they find the courage to go on except through hope? Obviously the hope in question is not a form of escapism or wishful thinking. Rather it is the kind of hope that the Catechism calls a "theo-logical virtue." That terminology is helpful, emphasizing two charac- .teristics our hope should have. By saying it is a virtue, we are saying it is a well-intentioned, stable aspiration. By saying "theological" we are saying it is directed toward God and is a gift from God. Christian hope is not based on self-confidence. Self-confidence is fragile even in a purely human sense. A combat pilot in World War II put it this way in his book God Is My Co-Pilot: "Those who knew no strength except their own to lean on soon found that fear can sabotage even the strongest hea~'t." As Christians, the fulfillment we hope for is pure gift. It is not something we deserve because of our own talents, or efforts, or merits. Nor should hope be confused with optimism. Hope and optimism are quite different. Optimism often distorts reality, making it look better than it is. Hope is the assur-ance of God's fidelity even in the most troubled times. Hope means surrendering everything into God's hands. Christian hope is not based on self-confidence. 67.4 2008 It is not unusual for people to lose hope, to become disillusioned, even bitter, when years of hard work bear no apparent fruit, when little of a desired change is accomplished. Such temptations can surface in any life when one's efforts and prayers seem to be without result. We may be tempted to confuse unseen results with waste, utter waste. That is a mistake. Real faith and hope pro-vide the remedy for that temptation and that mistake. For whatever reason, hope seems to be a some-what neglected virtue. In the Christian tradition we find much more emphasis on faith and charity than on hope. Simply consider the output of books and articles, whether in academic theology or in popularization. Hope also seems an underdeveloped virtue. One finds people whose faith is firm who nevertheless experience considerable fear and anxiety. In his book The God 1 Don't Believe ln, Juan Arias tells of a conversation he had with the great Dominican theologian Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange. The conversation took place toward the end of Garrigou's life. He is quoted as say-ing: "How difficult is hope! I feel I shall soon reach my God. I cannot deny that my faith and my charity have been purified and that they are virtues which I possess in peace, but hope is my torment." Scripture scholars tell us it is often difficult to dis-tinguish faith and hope in the Bible. One reason sug-gested for' this is that the original Hebrew text uses the same root word for both ideas. Thus there seems to be a scriptural basis for saying that hope is not something apart from faith. Bernard H~iring calls hope "the inter-nal dynamism of faith." Faith is more than intellectual assent to a body of propositions. The fullness of faith is the gift of one's whole being to God as Truth itself. The biblical con- Review for Religious cept of faith includes trust in the Lord, who is faith-ful, who pledged to remain with us, who gave us that hope-inspiring message recorded by John: "Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust in God and trust in me. There are many mansions in my Father's house; if there were not I should have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you with me; so that where I am you also may be" (Jn 14:1-4). In the Bible, faith is understood as a joyous, grateful acceptance of the One who is our savior and our hope. In the Epistle to the Hebrews, there is a close con-nection between faith and hope. "Faith is the confident assurance concerning things we hope for and conviction about things we do not see" (Heb 11:1-2). Scripture scholars tell us this is not a formal definition of faith. In any case, the passage gives us a good insight into the dynamic nature of faith. It suggests how hope is implied in faith. We think of hope as a reaching beyond. Faith is depicted here as enabling us to reach beyond ourselves and our own powers in a double sense. The first part of the passage, "Faith is confident assurance concerning things we hope for," represents reaching beyond our-selves into the future. It concerns what is not yet pres-ent but is confidendy awaited. The second part, "Faith is. conviction about things we do not see," represents reaching beyond ourselves to grasp a present reality that is unknown except through faith. Together these two dimensions describe essential characteristics of Christian existence. First, Christian existence is marked by the assurance that the goods promised by God will be ours. Second, Christian existence is marked by the conviction that the past and present facts on which that assurance is based are indeed facts and not illusion. 67.4 2008 Clark * Revisiting Hope The assent of faith is a surrender to God reveal-ing himself and his kingdom to us, a surrender based ultimately on the testimony of the Spirit, not on the strength of any argument. Faith gives assurance to our hopes because God does not reveal abstract, philosophi-cal ideas, but trust-inspiring truths of salvation, or, better, God reveals himself as a lov-ing Father. To put it another way, by faith we not only believe in God but we also believe that God believes in us. Typically we focus on the first part of that statement. Most people, if asked what ° they mean by faith, would answer with a simple formula such as "It means belief in God." We fail to appreciate the implications of the second part of the statement, that God believes in us. This latter idea is the basis of our hope. Saying God believes in me means he knows I am capable, of being totally fulfilled. It means I have such a capability because God has so willed it. This is possible because God's faith in me does not depend on me, on my goodness. That faith in me comes from the fact that God first loved me. That love is the foundation of my goodness and my value. As Fulton Sheen used to say, "God does not love us because we are good. We are good because God loves us." God's love is unshakable. God loves us without the possibility of regret or reversal. The Bible constantly reminds us of God's initiative. It tells us over and over again of God's loving invitation to us, that he does not regret his work, that his friendship is everlasting. It is By faith we.not only believe in God but we also believe ¯ that God believes in us. 398 Re~iew for Religious not easy to believe in this faith God has in us. It is not easy to sustain the hope that belief implies. So we often minimize God's generous love. We hesitate to believe that God believes fully in us. Only too often do we have to face our limitations and our brokenness. In spite of that, God seems to be telling us: "I know everything about you but I still believe in you." In Isaiah we read: "The mountains may depart, and the hills be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you, and my covenant of peace with you will never be shaken, says Yahweh" (Is 54:10). God does that in spite of our infidelities, our sins. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool" (Is 1:18). We can trust completely in God's faithfulness even though it is beyond our ability to measure. According to our narrow standards, even a mother can lose faith in her child. But God never loses faith in us: "Does a woman forget the baby at her breast, or fail to cherish the son of her womb? Yet even if these forget, I will never forget you. See, I have branded you on the palm of my hands" (Is 49:15-16). Even if we deliberately turn away from God, God continues to believe in us. He goes on believing in our capacity to return. Like the father of the prodigal son, he will go out every morning and evening to wait for us with open arms. When he sees us returning, he will run to meet us and prepare a feast for us. There is not one text in the Bible mentioning sin and judgment without some reference to the hope to which God calls us. This conviction that God believes in us, this hope, is obviously important in our spiritual life. It also has great witness value. Traditi6nally we have been encouraged to witness to our faith by the way we lead our lives. In 399 67.4 2008 Cl~rk * Revisiting Hope 400 today's world it is vital also to witness to our hope. In our shrunken world we are constantly made aware of the problems, the suffering, the evil that exists in virtu-ally every corner of the world. That led Louis Evely to say, "Hopelessness gnaws at our era." We are called to witness to the meaning of Christian hope. We need to show by our lives how our hope gives us strength and courage to face the difficulties and problems that inevitably come into our lives, to show, as Isaiah says, "Those who hope in Yahweh renew their strength, they put out wings like eagles. They run and do not grow weary, walk and never tire" (I~ 40:31). It is important to bear that witness. In Lumen gen-tium the council fathers urged Christians not to hide their hope in the recesses of their hearts, but to bying it to bear on the external structures of daily life. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin was fond of saying, "The world belongs to those who offer it the greatest hope." Christian hope is a gift, a gift of peace, but also a deci-sion. Christian hope means that in and through Christ we can courageously face sin and evil in the world and in our own lives. Hope frees us from the need to predict the future and allows us to live in the present with the deep trust that God will never leave us, but rather will fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. It is important to realize that Christian hope is not a form of escapism or wishful thinking. It is a Christian virtue, not a purely human virtue. No one naturally hopes for victory in the face of helplessness or defeat. In his Letter to the Romans, St. Paul utters a triumphant cry of hope: "Condemnation will never come to those who are in Christ Jesus, because the law of the Spirit which gives life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death" (Rm 8:1-2). Paul's hope arises Revie~ for Religlous out of his personal experience of the inward struggle and anguish that characterize the human situation (Rm 7:14-23). He ends that description with a desperate cry: "What a wretched man am I? Who can free me from this body under the power of death?" And Paul answers: "God--thanks be to him--through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Rm 7:24-25). What distinguishes Christian hope is that it arises in the very face of human helplessness and defeat and is anchored in Jesus Christ. The Epistle to the Hebrews says: "This is the anchor our souls have, reaching inside the curtain, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever of the order of Melchizedek" (Heb 6:20). This does not mean we are to leave the present world as it is and simply wait for God to make it new. History reveals that the Christians who did the most for the world in which they lived were precisely those who thought most of the next. We need to look not only at what we hope for but also at what we are doing when we are hoping. Hoping implies looking ahead, but it is not just envisioning something we do not yet possess. The experience of hope includes three things: desire, we want what we hope for; belief, we believe what we hope for is indeed possible; doubt, we fear what we hope for may not hap-pen. Those are the elements of human hoping. Hope, as a Christian virtue, is something different, something more. The difference lies in the third element. Christian hope does not include doubt. Christian hoping is not just believing in the possible. It is a conviction about what is sure. Christian hope is the gift of certainty that what God has promised will surely be ours. St. Paul calls it a "hope that never disappoints" (Rm 5:5); in 401 67.4 2008 Cl~rk * Revisiting Hope Christian hoping comes only as a gift of grace. 402 Hebrews it is called "a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" (Heb 6:20). Christian hoping comes only as a gift of grace. It is rooted in faith, which is itself a gift. Our faith and our hope are not based on history. A natural reading of history surely does not provide us encouragement to hope. In fact, that reading of history suggests that noth-ing will ever change radically for the better. That reading of history provides no model of people living together in mutual respect and universal love. In fact we see just the opposite. The human appe-tite for violence is enormous. A cynic would say history shows that people love killing each other. Almost three thousand years ago Homer wrote in the Iliad: "Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing, and dancing sooner than war." One need look no further than the last cen-tury for ample evidence supporting that view. But there is another history, the history of God's definitive intervention in our world in the person of Jesus Christ. Our faith and our hope are based on that intervention, on God's word--his word in Scripture and his incarnate Word. In his second letter, St. Peter tells us: "What we are waifng for, relying on his promises, is the new heaven and the new earth, where uprightness will be at home" (2 P 3:13). Old Testament prophets have spoken of "swords beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks" (Mi 4:3); "lions sleeping alongside lambs, the poor given justice, the weak raised to strength, and no hurt or harm done on all God's holy mountain" (Is 11:6;9). Preaching to the Jews, Paul said: Review for Religious "To keep his promise God raised up for Israel one of David's descendants, Jesus, as savior" (Ac 13:23). Hope is a challenging virtue. There are times when our hopes seem to be in vain. Hoping for, if not an end, at least a lessening of suffering and evil in the world seems almost a futile effort. And, from time to time in our personal lives, we are disappointed in our hopes. Often we may feel we have only enough spiri-tual bread in our basket for one day, and we are fearful about tomorrow and all the tomorrows to come. But we do not live in those tomorrows. We have no guarantee there will even be a tomorrow for us. In any case, just as the past is history and should not preoccupy us, so the future is mystery and should not preoccupy us. There is a difference between living for the future and living in the future. The former is done in the present; the latter alienates us from our real life. Among the ancient Christian symbols in the Roman catacombs, there is one which depicts an anchor with two small fish attached to the points of the anchor. The symbolism is clear. We Christians are the small fish attached to the anchor of our hope, Jesus Christ. God offers us the fullness of hope in Jesus Christ. Christ, as the fulfillment of God's saving love, is our hope. Christ is the great visible sign of God's fidelity and love for all men and women. Christ is our hope as victor over all the negatives of life, over the disappointments and frustrations, over anguish and pain, over sin, and even over death. "In the power of the Holy Spirit, may you be rich in hope" (Rm 15:13). 403 67.4 2008 HEDWIG LEWIS Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Abba Lot, one of the Desert Fathers,. on a visit to Abba Joseph, confided: "Abba, when I am able, I recite a short office, I fast a little, I pray, I medi-tate, I stay recollected. As far as I can, I try to keep my thought pure. What else should I do?" Abba Joseph rose to his feet and stretched out his hands to heaven. Suddenly his fingers became like ten lamps alight. He turned to Abba Lot, eyes sparkling, and whispered, "If you will, become all fire." 404 A young Jesuit, in one of his regular sessions with his spiritual director, asked searchingly: "What is it to be a Jesuit today?" The older Jesuit grabbed a hard-copy of the Decrees of General Congregation 35 (GC35) that lay beside his compute.r, raised it aloft, and said, emphasizing every phrase: "To be a Jesuit today is to be 'a man on fire.'" Many a mystic has written about the "spark of the divine" in every human heart. Divine Providence graces each Of us with potential to turn that spark into a blaze. Hedwig Lewis SJ, th~ author of several professional and psycho-spiritual books, reside~ at St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; Gujarat, India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious We can let it burn so fiercely that everything around catches fire, spreading far and wide, destroying despair and detestation, creating space for hope and harmony. Hearts Inflamed Fire has often been used to express diverse emotions we experience: purification and passion, comfort and control, devotion and devastation. "Becoming all fire" would mean controlling these conflicting tensions and living life to the full--hearts on fire with Love. And Love then spreads out, setting other hearts afire. All religious are called to be on fire with Love and to let Love shine forth through their good works, in keeping with their charisms, so as to bring glory to God and spread the joy of the kingdom. The Jesuits recently rekindled their own fire. Over a period of about two years before GC35 (held in the first months of 2008), they met in their provinces and came up with suggested topics for discussion, which were sent to Rome. These were scrutinized and presented to the delegates of GC35, who zeroed in on six themes and drafted them into decrees. These were promulgated in early June. Decree 2, titled "'A Fire that Kindles More Fires': Rediscovering Our Charism," defines Jesuit iden-tity today. It responds to questions like: What does it mean to be a Jesuit in a globalized world? What mean-ing and message do Jesuit life and identity bring to people of diverse identities? Drawing inspiration from this decree, I offer here some reflections on what it means to be % man on fire" in the Society of Jesus. I hope this article will serve as a source of enlightenment to Jesuits, to those who share the Ignatian constitutions, and to other men and women religious, and will help them to be "persons on fire." 405 67.4 200g Lewis ¯ Becoming.41l Fire: Tbougbts on Religious Identity The Enkindling Spirit Religious founders have been "men and women on fire," and members of all religious orders and congrega-tions today can tell stories of how they originated as a spark that enkindled other sparks and became a flame. A torch was handed from generation to generation. The first Jesuits "began a narrative, they lit a fire.''t GC35 beautifully summarizes this tradition in the opening paragraph of Decree 2: The Society of Jesus has carried a flame for nearly five hundred years through innumerable social and cul-tural circumstances that have challenged it intensely to keep that flame alive and burning: Things are no different today. In a world that overwhelms people with a multiplicity of sensations, ideas, and images, the Society seeks to keep the fire of its original inspi-ration alive in a way that offers warmth and light to our contemporaries. It does this by telling a story that has stood the test of time, despite the imperfec-tions of its members and even of the whole body, because of the continued goodness of God, who has never allowed the fire to die. (§1) When we read the histories of other religious communi-ties, we find them echoing these sentiments. The story of the Society of Jesus begins with St. Ignatius Loyola. The very name Ignatius suggests fire. Ignatius faced not only cannon fire but also the ecclesi-astical canons that almost had him burned at the stake. His spiritual journey as a "pilgrim" takes a defini-tive turn after his "sublime illumination" at the River Cardoner in Manresa (§5). He set myriad hearts on fire with the love of God, sharing his spiritual experiences through "conversations" and his "school of prayer," the Spiritual Exercises. He enlightened a few enthu-siastic men on the ways of God, forming a group that Review f~r Religious would share his vision of spreading Christ's kingdom. As the Eucharistic Preface of his feastday liturgy states, Ignatius provided the church "with a society of apostles on fire with [God's] love." A letter that Ignatius wrote in 1546 reflects his fiery spirit. A certain Friar Barberan in Spain had publicly expressed a wish that all Jesuits from Perpignan to Seville should be burned at the stake. Ignatius, in Rome, heard of the outburst and wrote to a friend, "Please tell Father Barberan from me that I wish him and all his friends and acquaintances, not only between Perpignan and Seville, but throughout the whole world, to be set on fire and burned up by the Holy Spirit, so that they may all attain to great per-fection and signalize them-selves gready, to the glory of his Divine Majesty." St. Francis Xavier, the pioneer apostle of the Society, ventured beyond physical and socioreligious frontiers "to set the world on fire." Through five centuries to the present, Jesuits have been inflamed with the same spirit and have followed the blazing trails of their predeces-sors and created new paths (§25;.Decree 1, §6). As "men on fire," charged by the Ignatian magis, Jesuits are urged to spread the fire of God's love even in the darkest parts of the world's civilizations (§22). They must gather people around and warm their hearts, listen attentively to their varied stories, encourage them to dance in harmony with their different melodies, and thus "give them meaning and provide focus in a frag-mented world" (§1). The Jesuit vision is to re-create a divine milieu by manifesting "a strong sense of the The very name Ignatius suggests fire. 407 67.4 2008 Lewis ¯ Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity sacred inseparably joined to active involvement in the world. Our deep love of God and our passion for his world should set us on fire--a fire that starts other fires! For ultimately there is no reality that is only profane for those who know how to look" (§ 10). Hopefully GC35's decrees will bring to reality the prophecy of the Jesuit visionary Pierre Teilhard de Chardin: "Someday, after we have mastered the winds, the waves, and gravity, we shall harness for God ener-gies of love. Then for the second time in the history of the world we will have discovered fire." 408 Persons on Fire The "new" fire that GC35 has lighted engulfs the "spirit" of the Jesuit identity as spelled out in the pre-ceding three general congregations. To be a Jesuit today is to be "a man on fire." The fire at the heart of a Jesuit's identity and mission is Jesus Christ (§2). The "man on fire" is an alter Cbristus, for Christ is his con-stant companion (§3). The "man on fire" lets his light shine through good works for the greater glory of God (§22). He enkindles other hearts with the Love that burns within him, for that was Christ's deepest yearn-ing: "I have come to cast fire on earth!" (see §21). From an Ignatian perspective, it is a "fire" that con-sumes and cleanses, for the Jesuit is "a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." It is a fire that cannot be contained, for the Jesuit is "a man for and with others." It is a fire that urges the Jesuit, a "servant of Christ's mission" (§7), to the edges of society (§24) in the ser-vice of faith and the propagation of justice (both human and environmental) (§7, §24; Decree 1, §6). The fire is kept ablaze by the Jesuit living out generously the Ignatian "polarities": "being and doing, contemplation Review for Religious and action, prayer and prophetic living, being com-pletely united with Christ and completely inserted into the world with him, as an apostolic body" (§9). Our near-contemporary St. Alberto Hurtado (of Chile, 1901-1952) was "a fire that enkindles other fires" (§25). He established the nonprofit organization Hogar de Cristo (the Hearth of Christ) to aid the homeless. It provides both shelter and human warmth for body and soul. Hurtado not only enkindled these unfortu-nate people, but wanted his experience with them to intensify the fire in his own being. He made this conviction abundantly clear: "Love them in order to make them live, that a more human life may develop in them, unlocking their intel-ligence, putting an end to their backwardness. May the errors anchored in their hearts prick me continuously. May I be tor-mented by the lies and illusions used to intoxicate and enrapture them; may the mate-rialistic press that pretends to enlighten them irritate me; may their prejudices stimulate me to show them the truth. And this is nothing more than the translation of the verb 'to love.' I have placed them in my heart so they may live as people in the light, and the light is none other than Christ himself, the true light that enlightens everyone who comes into the world. All the light of natural reason is really the light of Christ; all knowledge, all human science. Christ is the supreme science. ,2 Father Pedro Arrupe SJ was described in 1952 as "a man on fire" by a seventeen-year-old student in Madrid, The "man on fire" is an alter Christus, for Christ is his constant companion. 409 67.4 2008 Lewis * Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Adolfo Nicol~is.3 Like Hurtado, Arrupe had sheltered the hapless victims of the atomic bomb at Hiroshima. Given his training in medicine, Arrupe ministered to those suffering from severe burns. His experience would inflame his own heart with greater compassion and love - - for the suffer- ,~ ing. Later, as the Jesuits' superior general, he would open centers for refugees (see Decree 1, §6). Arrupe's is also a good example of how "men and women on fire" foster religious vocations: they walk their talk and talk their walk in the service of the Lord. Arrupe's lecture on his experiences at Hiroshima had rekindled in young Nicol~s's heart the burning desire to become a Jesuit. Nicolas would later follow the great missionary to Japan and eventually succeed him as supe-rior general in Rome. The Jesuit "man on fire" must realize that "the Jesuit identity is relational." He shares in the life of a com-munity, each member drawing its fire from the same source: Christ. Together as "friends in the Lord," they bear witness to the Light. A glowing community life, one that is intensive and joyful, attracts people, "inviting them--above all the young--to 'come and see,' to join us in our vocation and to serve with us in Christ's mis-sion. Nothing could be more desirable and more urgent today, since the heart of Christ burns with love for this world, with all its troubles, and seek~ companions who can serve it with him" (§ 19). The Jesuit "man on fire" must realize that "the Jesuit identity is relational. Review for Religious Playing with Fire Jesuits are also, by choice, "firemen" in Christ's brigade. The "demons" of this age are on a rampage, spreading on earth the fires of the underworld through irreligion, injustice, and consumerism (see §21). As firemen in Christ's brigade, Jesuits have been called to unflagging commitment to Christ and his mission of extinguishing the fires that defile human dignity and ravage natural resources. The Jesuit fireman plays with fire and becomes vul-nerable to the "inferno" he has to confront. It often means getting burned by rampant injustice or religious fanaticism. He comes under fire when he ventures beyond the frontiers--as is evident in the long list of Jesuit martyrs for social justice in recent times. Yet he remains committed regardless of thorns, threats, and thrashings and moves ahead fearlessly under the banner of the cross (§11; Decree 1, §9). The pathway is not always bright. There are periods in the Jesuit fireman's life when the fire within him burns low, threatened by storms inside or out, or the path is hidden in thick smoke. He experiences, in short, the challenge of the cross--where "the Divinity is hidden." The light flickers or fades in the struggle, and doubts and anxieties oppress. The time may compare with what mystics have described as the "dark night of the soul." "The experience of a hidden God cannot always be avoided, but even in the depths of darkness the transforming light .of God is able to shine" (§7). The "man on fire" must not lose hope, but seek and find that "light" so as to rekindle his fire. After the example of Jesus our companion, whose "entire life was a kenosis," he must feel supported and continue on his mission (§ 14). 411 67.4 2008 Lewis * Becoming/Ill Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity While GC3 5 was in session, every Jesuit community around the globe kept a small lamp lit in the chapel as a symbol of oneness and solidarity, uniqueness and unity. Every Jesuit, in his own God-given way, must more than anything else be "a man on fire." And then, merging his flame with the flames of other religious "men and women on fire," together with "all persons of goodwill" (§21), he must set the world ablaze. Notes ~ GC35, Decree 2, §2. The texts of all the decrees are available at www.sjweb.info. Paragraph numbers of this decree will be given in the body of the article thus: (§2). 2 Albert Hurtado, personal reflection written in November 1947, quoted in "Saint Hurtado's Christocentric Mindset" by Hedwig Lewis sJ, Ignis 2005, no. 4, Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, Anand, India. 3 Adolfo Nicolfis sJ, "Eight Encounters with Father Pedro Arrupe," Province Express, Australia, 14 November 2007. 412 A Birthing On my way to Damascus I was tripped by Grace, and fell Into the hands of Love. My brain lay scrambled And pride lay wounded I felt blinded. Deep within my labored soul Faith gave its birth cry. Paulson V. Veliyannoor CMF Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of God speaks first in one way, and then in another, but no one notices. He speaks by dreams, and visions that come in the night, when slumber comes on mankind, and men are all asleep in bed. Then it is he whispers in the ear of man, or may frighten him with fearful sights, to turn him from evil-doing, and make an end of his pride; to save his soul from the pit and his life from the pathway to Sheol. (Jb 33:14-18; JB) If it is true that God speaks to us in dreams, what fol-lows? Or what should we do? We should speak in turn. Or we should at least desire to do so and try. Speaking to God in dreams as God does to us in dreams is not normally at our command. However, whether we dare speak to God after we have dreamt depends on us: it is definitely within our power. Such speaking to God is prayer indeed. Prayer linked with dreams may start in dreams and end in them or continue after them, or it A. Paul Dominic sJ last wrote for us in our 66.4 (2007) issue. His address is Human Development Centre; Port Mourant, Corentyne; Guyana (South America). 413 67.4 2008 Dominic ¯ A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of 414 may begin only outside them, drawing inspiration from them. Both kinds could be learned, though for now my interest is in the second,~ which is simpler: it is prayer following the dreams. The literature on prayer has been mosdy on how to pray rather than on what to pray. Is it worthwhile to con-sider the manner and matter of prayer separately? In any case, being persuaded myself that more deserves to be said about what to pray about, I would like to deal with the hardly dreamt-of topic broached above. To state it explicidy, whatever you dream at night can well serve as food for your prayer. I believe that something sensible can be said about dreams as source material for our praying. The idea proposed here is really part of what Christians generally use in their meditative or contem-plative prayer, namely, the Bible.2 They use the whole Bible, even if not every page and even though they most often use Gospel passages.3 Even in the Gospels, some paragraphs may seldom be considered prayer-worthy. It is a rare person who will pray over the genealogy of Jesus given at the beginning of Matthew. Still, the Bible in all its multiplicity and variety serves Jewish and Christian prayer. I think this is true of the bibli-cal passages about dreams, albeit they are not noticed much.4 Biblical dreams are found here and there in both Testaments. For many, they could prove to be a new wellspring of prayer. God Active in the Unconscious A

Issue 58.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1999. ; f'o r reli i , C~stian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ~°~NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared r(flection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. Tbe articles in tbe journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or ~ometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-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 P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017 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 c~)ver for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER'1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ¯ NUMBER5 contents 454 perspectives The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response Vilma Seelaus OCD places the biblical God-related understanding of the. self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. 470 The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Frederick E. Crowe SJ examines some major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world, especially as a new context for the meaning of consecrated life. 490 brothers "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood Joel Giallanza CSC reflects on the very identity of the religious vocation of "brother" as providing both brothers themselves and the church with a rich and prophetic spirituality. Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Paul Bednarczyk CSC shares his reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers and on some possible countermeasures. Review for Religious 5OO journeying On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming Avis Clendenen brings together personal experience and psychological and theological insight in addressing the reality of making and breaking commitments. 515 Charism and Membership: Surpassing the Institutional Limits of Religious Life Deborah M. Cerullo SSND proposes that emphasis on becoming grounded in the charism through a common novitiate experience would create a better synthesis of diverse ways of being members. 524 associates Identity, Purpose, Organization: Ongoing Associate Programs Rose McDermott SSJ presents a brief historical overview of associates and associations joined to religious institutes, reviews church legislation, and then raises issues about sound future development. 537 Similarity and Uniqueness in the Association Experience: Theological Reflection Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, Mary Mester RSM, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share their experience of using theological reflection in a regional gathering of associates and sisters. departments 452 Prisms 546 Canonical Counsel: Impediments to Admission 552 Book Reviews September-October 1999 prisms Thy kingdom come The words kingdom and reign sound off-putting to most Americans. We have little tra-dition of kings and queens. What we have of it stems from a relatively brief past of early colonizers looking back to European roots. But when we Christians pray the Lord's prayer, we find ourselves begging God--the one we address by Jesus' word Father--that "your king-dom will come." By Jesus' teaching us a way to pray as he prays, we seem to be using language that pictures God as ruler or king and God's area of influence as a kingdom. What do we mean when we pray "Thy kingdom come"? Perhaps we can gain some cl,arity by identifying first what we do not mean. Kingdom is not to be identi-fied with any political entity. Even the age-old notion of Christendom was not tl~e same as this kingdom, and so the breakup of Christendom was not a dissolution of the kingdom. Kingdom is not a certain physical locale. The Roman Catholic Church as an institutional structure is not identified with the kingdom. The church has an important role to play in the kingdom, but it is not the kingdom itself. The church continues the mission of Jesus in proclaiming the kingdom. The church is at the service of the kingdom; it is meant to be a sign, a sacrament of its presence. The kingdom is not something that we human beings fashion or build. We may sing some songs about Review for Religious our "building the kingdom of God," but there is no reality to be done corresponding to our words. According to the gospel imper-ative, we seek first the kingdom of God. We want what God wants. We desire to be totally available to God, ready to serve, eager to do God's will. Doing the will of God involves discipleship--hear-ing the call of Jesus and responding with the total gift of self. Doing the will of God makes the kingdom present, because we are busy about what God is busy about, and so we are where God is. Above all, as our petition teaches us, we pray for the coming of the kingdom since it is God's doing, it is God's work. Jesus himself never gives a definition of kingdom, and we may be surprised that no one seems to question him. In the synoptic Gospels, he never claims the kingdom as his; it always is identified with the one he calls Abba. Only through parables do we find Jesus giving some description of the kingdom. Our Christian Eucharist anticipates the frequent parable allusions to the eating and drink-ing at the Lord's table in the kingdom. For in every Eucharist we place ourselves with Jesus in his total availability to God as he prays "not my will, but yours be done." So what are we to say about the kingdom? How are we to make this petition our own every time we pray the Our Father? The kingdom is the inbreaking presence of God to our human world and our responsive relating to God's being with us. God continues to pour out divine life--what we name as grace--and, when human cooperation is present, then the kingdom is right at hand. Just as the disciples experienced the transfiguration of Jesus, so too the kingdom is often experienced by our touching into this transfiguration kind of moment of a deeper-down reality shining out through our ordinary world. As we enter into this jubilee year, not through the alarms of some millenarians, but rather through the gospel introduction of Jesus, we hear anew Jesus' call to conversion and repentance, his admonition of obedience and watchfulness, and his appeal to be ready and waiting. We are like members of a wedding party--joy-ful, expectant. But it is no bride or groom whom we serve and cel-ebrate. It is our triune God--shining out as the redemptive presence of the Father in Jesus through the power of their Spirit of love. What do we want for ourselves and for our world? "Thy Kingdom come." David L. Fleming sJ September-October 1999 perspectives VILMA SEELAUS The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response This article was conceived at the end of the Carmelite Seminar of 1997 at St. Mary's College in South Bend. I had an opportunity to browse in the Notre Dame book-store, and two titles in different sections waved for my attention. The first was The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World, in which Jungian author James Hillman takes archetypal psychology in a new direction. He claims that, with the soul of the world sick as evidenced by violence and corruption, individuals become sick at heart and suffer heart attacks. To restore the heart's courage and its imaginative power, therefore, the soul of the world needs the same attention that we have been giving to the soul of individual persons. Situating the individual self within the heart of the world challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self.1 The other book that caught my attention was Anthony Thiselton's Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self, in which he offers a hermeneutic of selfhood. Thiselton compares and assesses both modern and post-modern interpretations of the self in relation to Christian Vilma Seelaus OCD made this presentation in June 1998 at the Carmelite Seminar at St. Mary's College in South Bend, Indiana. It is being published also on audio- and videocas-sette by ICS Publications and the Carmelite Institute. Her address is Carmelite Monastery; Barrington, Rhode Island 02806. Review for Religious theology. Postmodern interpretations, he acknowledges, perceive the self as trapped within a network of role performances imposed on it by the power interests of others, but he argues for a deeper understanding of the self and its destiny. Postmodernism de-cen-ters the self; it denies any permanent, integrated reality to the self. It claims that identity is socially constructed and that people in different kinds of societies have quite different identity-forming experiences. Thiselton accepts the force of this, but argues for a deeper understanding of the self in relation to the biblical vision of reality and Christian theology.2 Reading Hillman and Thiselton enticed me into further study of postmodern thought in relation to the self. Before long, the complexity of the topic had my head spinning) Furthermore, post-modern debates about the very nature of reality challenged beliefs that shape my life as a Carmelite. And yet, the more perplexed I became, the more firmly did an inner conviction stand its ground: that our Carmelite mystical tradition has perennial values and insights for our postmodern world and perhaps for many worlds yet to come. In these reflections, therefore, I place the biblical God-related understanding of the self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. I do this in two parts. Part One brings together important insights from both the mod-ern and the postmodern movements, showing a shift in under-standing the self. Part Two looks into the writings of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross for what they offer by way of chal-lenge, expansion, or depth in regard to the self and in regard to our own spiritual journey.as we enter the new millennium. Part One Walter Truett Anderson's insightful and witty book titled: Reality Isn't What It Used to Be helped me to realize that the self in particular is not what it used to be. What did the self use to be that it no longer is? What are the shifts in self-understanding, which, for better or for worse, postmodernism names for us? How might we as Christians respond appropriately to the challenge of post-modernism? First, what do we mean by postmodern? Postmoderns claim to have superseded, to have gone beyond, previous ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving which developed in the so-called modern September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought period. It deconstructs them, to use the "in" term. At the same time, postmodernism is far from a developed, coherent social theory. Scholars dispute whether or not it is a form of radical modernism or something distinctive after modernism, or some of each. According to Philip Endean in his foreword to an issue of The Way dedicated to postmodernism and spirituality: As the structure of the word implies, the postmodern cannot be understood for what it is in itself, but only in terms of what has preceded it: the postmodern is a gamut of reac-tions to the modern, swinging between two moods: a mood of disillusionment, as previously unquestioned assumptions and standards are found wanting, and a mood of exhilara-tion, as new and better alternatives are explored, develop&d, and advocated. Postmodern thinking draws on a wide range of sources: from cybernetics to feminism, from literary the-ory to the new physics, from cultural history to psychoanal-ysis and linguistics. Perhaps for this reason its expression can be, notoriously, opaque.4 Although the philosopher Kant back in the 18th century.paved the way, the 1960s are considered the true beginning of the post-modern era. At that time everything came into question, and all belief systems, with their traditional values, came under attack. People in the '60s began to question what they called the myth of objective consciousness: that, when you looked at things, what you saw and described was what was actually there. (At the scene of an accident, eyewitnesses often give conflicting accounts of what happened.) Today constructivists hold that the "real world" is an ever changing social creation. In the 1960s, thoughts about the self were also changing. As Anderson points out: In the '60s, people assumed that, if you developed enough contempt for your old socially adapted self, a new True Self, unsullied by any conformity, would magically appear, that a True Culture and a True Politics likewise stood in the wings--and that when they appeared they would not have to coexist with old selves, old cultures, old politics. Things didn't work that way!6 Though the '60s were the time of eruption, postmodernism con-tinues and radicalizes trends that actually began during the Enlightenment, at the dawn of what philosophers call the "mod-ern period." Descartes (1596-1650), the classical modern philoso-pher of clear and distinct ideas, attempted to provide clear and Revieva for Religious certain criteria against which our knowledge can be tested for truth. He was also intensely preoccupied with the subject who knows these ideas: the knowing person. For today's radical deconstructionists, like Derrida, such Cartesian objectivity is anathema. Derrida holds all reality to be socially constructed. Reality is simply the interpretation of the perceiving subject. Derrida insists that we cannot grasp reality because it slips by before we can catch hold of it. Everything, then, is interpreta-tion. Nevertheless, Derrida and the other decon-structionists are in a way Descartes's descendants. Descartes understands the self as an active agent, whereas for Derrida the self shifts from active agent to passive situatedness. Instead of a core something (called selJ) determining how it will respond to different situations, the situation cre-ates the self. Different situations call forth a dif-ferent self to be expressed.7 On the whole, postmoderns recognize the importance, for its time, of the modern move-ment. It brought new values to the fore. We ben-efit from the knowledge that scientific objectivity makes possible. From it come the many techno-logical wonders that are integral to our everyday life. In the moral and political spheres, modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. Religion, too, has been enriched by modernity. Most Jewish and Christian believers, for example, no longer subscribe to a literal understanding of the Bible's story of creation in six days.8 But the improvements of modernity have a dark side: the exploitation of nature and its resources, the emergence of indi-vidualism and the consequent collapse of the sense of community, the divorce of technology from moral values, and denials of the worth of ethnic, tribal, and religious traditions. While the modern period gave us universal abstract systems and scientific "metanar-ratives," accounts of the origins and development of the universe, these often denied the existence of God or denied that God could ¯ be discovered by the conscious self. As a result, in today's world many lives are governed by efficiency, profit, success, and the will Modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought to power without regard for ultimate human values. Talk of love, truthfulness, belief, loyalty, and so forth has little meaning. Further, advanced technology, the offspring of the modern period, has introduced a world of ceaseless change. New models quickly replace the old. Things are made not to endure, but to be consumed and replaced. Think of how quickly appliances need replacement or upgrading. Indeed, today we struggle with both the benefits and the dark side of the modern period. As science enabled the modern self more and more to carve out and control its own destiny, the self tended to be assured and opti-mistic. But today, as postmodern thinkers become increasingly aware of the self's arrogant, power-hungry dark side, the self appears to be, in fact, de-centered--no longer an active agent, but instead taking its identity from the variable roles imposed upon it by society and by its own inner drives and conflicts, conflicts which the communications media keep in constant motion. The media, especially the advertising world, tell it who it should be, how it should look, what it should own, and where it needs to travel in order to feel good about itself. Postmoderns see our opinions formed for us by the collective perceptions of the media. Under such conditions, notions of a true self give way to the self as wear-ing different masks to suit the occasion, with little sense of a solid identity underneath. We tend to become who we think others want us to be. In theory, the will of the individual is still supreme, but often it has no strong center, no belief system to serve as anchor. When everything is up for grabs, the self lacks the support of collective meaning. There is too much to choose from; this can leave indi-viduals feeling alone in a sea of options. Many people today feel estranged from others and even from themselves. When people see no value to their lives other than the imperatives of efficiency, success, or serving the power interests of others, when their "real-ity" depends on what the TV screen says is real, no wonder there are high r~ites of suicide and physician-assisted death. Veronica Brady, in an article in The Way, describes it well: "Caught in this ceaseless flow of images, the self almost ceases to exist, breaking into fragments, identifying only with the flow. Right and wrong become a matter of personal taste, depending not so much on what is done but who does it. The center does not hold because there is no center.''9 A character in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses says: "Information got abolished sometime in the Review for Religious twentieth century, can't say just when, stands to reason, that's part of the information that got., abolished. Since then we've been living in a fairy-story . Everything happens by magic. [We] haven't a. notion what's going on. So how do we know if it's right or wrong? We don't even know what it is.'''° Rushdie's world of illusion hangs within the "actual" world of extremes of rich and poor, with millions dying of starvation as nations invest billions of dollars in developing new and deadlier weapons that are then sold to warring ethnic and tribal groups intent on destroying each other. In this context the theories of deconstructionists like Derrida and Lyotard begin to make sense. The absurdity of human confidence in its power to rule the world is becoming more and more apparent as the products of the human mind threaten to destroy us. At the same time, on the positive side, the modern period highlighted one of the deepest urges of the human heart: to be someone. The drift of cultural change is in the direction of human rights, of wanting everyone to be free to create personal identity and experience, even though, for many in our world, resources are not available. No wonder people become dishonest--seeking to have and be and do what the TV ads say they should have and be and do. The struggle to be someone is now a global struggle. Some years ago I had occasion to live in Israel for three months. The incongruities of the struggle became vivid for me when I saw, above Bedouin tents in the desert, TV antennas con-necting them with the modern/postmodern world. As Walter Truett Anderson puts it: "Every morning billions of pairs of eyes open, and billions of societies of mind set forth on the adventures of selfhood. For many the adventure only rarely rises above the level of a struggle to keep the body alive, but even the most mis-erable among us also hear the aspirations of the self---the 'me' craving reassurance that it exists and is good and the modern me that pursues happiness and believes that, whatever happiness it finds, will be what it has taken or created and not what has been handed down by fate.''~ To add a further dimension, the global struggle to be someone is seen with fresh and deep insight by postmodern psychologists who have been influenced by Buddhism. Psychologists Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman hold with Buddhism that self/oth-ers are empty. This does not mean that they are void; it means they have no existence other than in relationships that are con- Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought World and self mutually influence and create one another. stantly arising in the immediate experience of the moment. To say that the self is empty means that the self is not a thing and there-fore has no unchanging core characteristics or essence. It is a way of indicating that self is always completely connected to its imme-diate experience, that in the immediacy of the moment, uncon-strained by past residue or future expectations, self is always free. As the Buddhist Diamond Sutra notes, the past is gone, the future is not here, and the present cannot be grasped. This is perfect freedom.12 As the authors point out, freedom here is not to be confused with a pseudofreedom that seeks to abandon all constraints. Instead, to understand emptiness as being connected to immedi-ate experience can lead to greater generosity and compassion toward the self and others. Past experience no longer has the last word. The empty self, actualized in immediate expe-rience, binds together apparent opposites: the dynamic interchange of oneness and separate-ness. These are not mutually exclusive. The empty self is the connected self which is actu-alized in context and in relationships. Observation reveals self-identity to be fluid and constantly changing according to context and relationships. As the Rosenbaum-Dyckman article puts it, "At work we may be decisive and authoritative; when out to dinner with our spouse, we may be hesitant and deferent about what to order for dinner. Yet we believe ourselves to be the same person.°13 Postmodern psychologists repeatedly make the point that our person is not encapsulated by our skin, but exists in relation. The self is always self in relation, in action, and as such is always con-textual. They hold that emotions are always a reliving in the pre-sent rather than a recall from the dead past. If we do not need to be attached to an unchanging self, and can see change as the only constant, it becomes somewhat easier to image change in prob-lem behaviors24 Although the self may be fluid and constantly changing, it must nevertheless have a boundary, but, according to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, a boundary with infinite length enclosing a finite, definable area, different from the rigid boundaries of lines on a map. Human boundaries are not abstract, conceptual schemas, but are always embodied in constant interaction with a world from Review for Religious which they are not separate. World and self mutually influence and create one another. Such mutual influencing has the potential to stretch present definable boundaries and give glimpses into the infinite. Here the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican comes to mind. If our attitude is one of self-righteousness that places us over against the rest of the world, we will be unable to hear the challenges that postmodern psychologists offer us for continued growth in our postmodern world. Our boundaries become sealed in finitude, and the infinite capacity that is ours becomes rigid, like the lines of a map. Psychologists in increasing numbers address the postmodern shift in regard to the self, and they offer valuable insights for living healthily in today's changing world. At the same time, postmodern philosophers and psychologists do not have the last word, and so now we turn to the mystics for their insights into the self. Part Two Since human boundaries are not abstract, but are embodied and are in constant interaction with the world from which they are not separate, precisely here does the biblically based Carmelite tradition offer timeless help. Back in 16th-century Spain, Teresa of Avila wrote a book to help her daughters of the reformed Carmel relate to one another and to the world, from which they were not separate even in their cloister. In her Way of Perfection, she gives her daughters some advice that flows with meaning into our post-modern age: "I shall enlarge on only three things., for it is very important that we understand how much the practice of these three things helps us to possess inwardly and outwardly the peace our Lord recommended so highly to us. The first of these is love for one another; the second is detachment from all created things; the third is true humility, which, even though I speak of it last, is the main practice and embraces all the others.''~s Many centuries separate us from Teresa and the particularity of her issues, but the interrelated dynamic of love, detachment, and humility are integral to spiritual growth in today's confusing world. Postmodernity challenges much of what we cling to by way of values and beliefs and, in particular, our self-understanding. To understand the self as fluid and constantly changing invites a deeper penetration into the Christian, Carmelite Understanding of Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought detachment. It would have us be attached to nothing, not even the most innocent of things, for in time of need they fail us com-pletely. John of the Cross insists: "To come to the knowledge you have not, you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you' have not, you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not, you must go by a way in which you are not . This places us in our center of humility.''16 Detachment and humility go hand in hand. They cre-ate an openness to new ideas, a willingness to let go of the past an, d let the context of the present create us anew. The contextual pre-sent is the place of encounter with God. The past, while it may continue to influence present behavior, is in fact nonexistent, and the future evolves out of each passing moment. Detachment opens up roads less traveled; but, if we feel attached to our current road, we may all too readily say, "This is me; this is my self." We have heard people say, "I'm a one on the enneagram or an INFP on the Myers-Briggs, so you have to take me as I am." With such a self-fixated attitude, we will less likely hear God's invitation into the infinite realms of potential self-realization. If we conceive of the self as determined by the pathways already taken, a composite of past experiences, it will be hard to let go when unknown paths beckon us onward. As Rosenbaum and Dyckman put it, "The self, as an accumulation of experience, is a prison; the self as empty, as shimmering potentiality, is a prism that, depending on its positioning, gives forth many different colors."17 In his Spiritual Canticle, John of the Cross reminds us that the woods and thicket in which we find ourselves today have been planted by the hand of the Beloved.18 God's self revelation con-tinues right within the human story. The density and darkness of postmodernity--which holds that there is a multiplicity of per-spectives in the search for truth, which denies a stable foundation of self and of knowledge--can generate extremes of uncertainty. But the de-centered self of postmodernity has its own gift to offer. It invites us, beyond the limits of what can be known and con-trolled, into a self that is mystery, into God as ultimate Mystery. The temptation is either to stay blinded in self-righteous cling-ing to the limitations of human knowledge, or to despair before the uncertainties of life. Detachment itself can be the void of despair, unless it is grounded in faith and in the experience of God. The Dutch theologian Frans Jozef van Beeck, in his contem-porary. Catholic systematic-theology series titled God Encountered, Review for Religious reminds us that "the human subject., is naturally and radically 'de-centered': the mature person's true center does not repose in the person. Authentic persons live on the strength of unfulfillable desire . Grace graciously enables human persons, along with their world, to that most natural, yet most divine of all things: freely to move toward God in total faith and abandon."'gIn the midst of alternative versions of reality, and many different ways of being in the world, with the postmodern tolerance for a plethora of possibilities, choosing to believe in something is vital. We can be respectful of others with differing beliefs and still stand firm in the faith that is ours, a faith that centers the self in God. According to the philosopher Kierkegaard, faith is the pas-sionate embrace of objective uncertainty.2° Faith bypasses the postmodern self that interprets, even cre-ates, its own reality. It bypasses human reason to plunge us into mystical depths where being and nonbeing are held in cre-ative tension by God's abiding presence to human life. At this level Rahner rightly speaks of the experience of God and the experience of self as one.2' In his insis-tence upon the possibility open to all of an immediate experience of God, Rahner writes: "I am convinced that such an immediacy between God and the human person., is of greater significance today than ever before. All the societal supports of religion are collapsing and dying out in this secularized and pluralistic society. If, nonetheless, there is to be real Christian spirituality, .it cannot be kept alive and healthy by external helps, not even those which the church offers., but only through an ulti-mate, immediate encounter ofthe individual with God.''22 The Harvard psychologist Charles Verge names this place of encounter "the divine self.''23 Here the self and God mirror each other.24 The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. "Beloved of God" defines the self. The Spiritual Canticle of John of the Cross is a text that writes the self of each one of us. In the Canticle, God's passionate love for the soul, enfleshed in Christ, The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought stirs a passionate response and gives meaning and direction to life right within the extremes of uncertainty that surround us. To be transformed into the image of Christ, to become like Christ, con-stitutes the heart of the divine promise. Faith enables us to embrace, with passion, the ultimate objec-tive uncertainty that the mystery of God revealed in Christ is. Christ lifts the self out of its predefined situatedness with its self-interest, into love for God and love for others. God's love trans-forms the will to power, to possession, to lust, into will to love. The detachment that faith calls forth issues in genuine love even for those who differ from us. Postmodernism stretches our capacity to love. Life today beckons toward a global embrace of love; love for those who may look different from us, love for those who may think differently from us, and love for those whose values may be different, even opposed to ours. Today, in the face of our differences, love holds the special challenge of intense, respectful listening, which can only happen if the heart is humble. A humble heart is a heart detached from pre-conceived ideas and personal prejudice. According to Teresa, humil-ity is truth, and our truth is that we are all, without exception, finite, fragile creatures capable of sin and that as such we always stand on the threshold of ongoing conversion. At the same time, integral to truth is that each one of us is always infinitely loved and possessed by God. Insofar as we fall short, God invites us to continued conversion and, even more, to divine transformation. Our challenge is to live Christ's gospel of love. Such love dissolves the disharmony of suspicion and distrust, it detaches us from self-interest, and it opens us to others in humility and genuine con-cern. As Rahner sagely asks, "Why should there be any need for deception, which serves to protect the self, if the self is loved, wel-comed, accepted, and reconciled-as-one with the Other?''2s Receiving the self from God in Christ, giving the self to others in love, and serving the other's interests as one's own are mirrorings of God, the divine self-giving Trinity, in whose image we are. In trinitarian theology, love constitutes the ground of selfhood. The gospel account of Jesus at table, encircled by the outcasts of his time, symbolizes the self today cast out from itself and in need of re-centering in Christ. From the horizon of Christ, we see the incompleteness of all that is human in relation to our total commitment to Christ, but in Christ we also see ourselves con-nected with the heart of all that is. Revie~v for Religious The archetypal psychology of James Hillman invites us to this from a psychological perspective. He would have us see ourselves and others as intimately connected with what he calls the soul of the world. Today conversion extends to claiming our part in what Hillman rightly names the sickness of the soul of the world. He claims that the world, because of its breakdown, is entering a new moment of consciousness by having its attention drawn to itself by means of its symptoms. It is becoming aware of itself as a psychic reality. We now encounter pathology in the psyche of politics and medicine, of language and design, of the food we eat. Sickness, says Hillman, is now "out there" as well as "in here.''26 To situate our individual self within the heart of the world not only challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self; it also invites a deeper awareness of our connectedness with others and with planet Earth, whose beauty and balance are today oppressed by our violent consumer world. The world itself is now a patient in need of hea~ling. Postmodernism offers a broader understanding of the redeeming mission of Christ. The entire cos-mos becomes the locus of redemption. Like us, our church and civilization and even planet are all in need of Christ's redeeming, healing, transforming love. Postmodernism is globalism; as such it is the half-discovered truth of the one unity that transcends all our differences. The language of postmodernism would be alien to Teresa, and yet, as she increasingly experienced herself as centered in God, her self became increasingly fluid. She seems astonished as the boundaries of the self continue to expand. There are many exam-pies, but in her Autobiography, her Vida (chap. 15, para. 7), Teresa, experiencing herself infused with the light of God, comments: "And I, though being what I am, seem to be another person." In 23.1, recalling how God freed her from herself, she writes that "here begins another new life." In 27.1, having placed herself com-pletely in the hands of God, she says, "l saw that I was a com-pletely different person." In 27.9 she says, "One of these graces is enough to change a soul completely.''27 In the context of these remarks, Teresa specifically mentions that she is growing in either love, detachment, or humility. At the height of her mystical life, Teresa has a profound expe-rience that, on the level of the divine self, reflects the empty, de-centered, but relational, contextual self of postmodernity. In 40.5 of her Vida, she writes: Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought Once, while I was reciting with all the sisters the hours of the divine office, my soul suddenly became recollected; and it seemed to me to be like a brightly polished mirror, without any part on the back or sides or top or bottom that wasn't totally clear. In its center Christ our Lord was shown to me, in the way I usually see him. It seemed to me I saw him clearly in every part of my soul, as though in a mirror¯ And this mirror also--I don't know how to explain it--was com-pletely engraved upon the Lord Himself by means of a very loving communication I wouldn't know how to describe. ¯ I was given understanding of what it is for a soul to be in mortal sin. It amounts to clouding this mirror with mist and leaving it black; and thus this Lord cannot be revealed or seen, even though he is always present giving us being. In God, Teresa is connected with the world's sin, even as she affirms the ever present graciousness of God always giving us being within the darkness of sin. God is present in Teresa, not with power and might, but in love and with an invitation to self-transcendence that is as pertinent and penetrating for us today as it was for Teresa. In 3 7.11 of her l/ida, Teresa sounds as though she is living in our present age. After lamenting the foibles of her honor-bound society, with its elaborate system of etiquette, she says, "I don't know how it's all going to end up; even though I'm not y.et fifty, I've already seen so many changes I don't even know how to live anymore. What will they do who are now being born and will live for many years?" What will we do, we who have been born in this postmodern era, this era in which we live for many years, often into our nineties? Like Teresa, we do not know where it is all going to end up. Many would say that dark night engulfs our entire world and the times in which we live. The Carmelite tradition, however, assures us that God is in the night. John of the Cross eloquently describes the meaning of the soul's journey into the night of God. In this night of faith, we discover that love is the eye of God and we in turn are to see and interpret all things through the eyes of God. From this perspective we see that we are all one in God's love and that we bear one another's burdens. By the quality of our lives, Christ would have us be bearers of hope for all who suffer the travails of poverty, violence, injustice, and oppression. Right within the many forms of death that surround us is the seed of resurrec-tion impatient for new life. As we work with our differences in families, in our civic and Review for Religious church communities, we can dare to hope that our graced strug-gle will energize efforts toward understanding, toward finding common ground within the extremes of diversity that ctiaracterize our postmodern world. What we see in Teresa's writings is a devel-opment in her understanding of herself and of Christ, who com-panions her journey. Today,. as we find the self anew, we also find new ways of seeing Christ and the Christian mysteries right within our postmodern world, without getting caught in nostalgia for the past. Again, like Teresa, we do not know where it will all end up. What we do know is that the future is present, like a seed, in today's disconcerting moment. Our challenge is to live now, to live fully (but with humility, detachment, and love) what we say we believe. The sufferings of our time are not meaningless, as sec-ular postmodernity might see them. They are integral to the groan-ing of creation in labor until it brings forth redemption, the final triumph of God's love. At its deepest level the self is caught up in the incomprehensible mystery of Love we call God. Notes I James Hillman, The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World (Woodstock, Connecticut: Spring Publications, 1995). 2 Anthony C. Thiselton, Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self'. On Meaning, Manipulation, and Promise (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998). 3 It also leaves me with a little anxiety that the many authors that I read be given due credit. As I prepare this paper for publication, I real-ize that much of what I read merged in my thinking as I internalized the material. 4 See The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 175. s According to Anderson, Kant's work in the 18th century began with a problem that was as divisive in its time as the objectivist-con-structivist one is in ours--in this case a conflict between the British empiricists such as Locke and Hume, who saw thought as merely an instrument for understanding or using "real world experience," and the Continental philosophers such as Descartes and Leibniz, who saw the mind as the supreme organizer and discoverer of all reality. This was not a postmodern debate. All parties assumed that people could appre-hend unchanging and universal truth. Kant's attempt to resolve the con-flict was his own contribution to the search for "foundational" knowledge or reality--beyond historical and cultural relativism--but it pointed toward a view of the mind as a creator of reality. Kant describes the mind as an active organ that orders and forms the raw data of experience, 1-467-- September-October 1999 Seela~s ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought imposing upon them its own structure; we do not experience things in themselves but rather representations of them. See Walter Truett Anderson, Reality Isn't What It Used to Be (San Francisco: Harper, 1990), pp. 59-60. 6 Anderson, Reality, p. 48. 7 See Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman, "Integrating Self and System: An Empty Intersection?" Family Process 34 (March 1995): 26- 27, and Kenneth J. Gergen, "The Social Construction of Self- Knowledge," in Daniel Kolak and Raymond Martin, Self and Identity: Contemporary Philosophical Issues (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1991), pp. 372-403. 8 See Max Charlesworth, "Postmodernism and Theology," The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 188-202, for an interesting summary of the devel-opment of modern to postmodern thought. 9 Veronica Brady, "Postmodernism and the Spiritual Life," in The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 181. 10 Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (London: Viking, 1988), p. 313, quoted in Brady, "Postmodernism." 11 Walter Truett Anderson, Reality, p. 132. 12 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 28-33. 13 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 26. 14 According to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 35-37, acknowledging memory as constructive, as a present contextual experi-ence, rather than as retrieval of the past, helps to avoid difficulties such as the controversies over recovered memories of trauma and abuse, which are a sensitive contemporary issue. ~s Teresa of Avila, Way of Perfection (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980), chap. 4, para. 4, p. 54. 16 The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), p. 150. 17 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 37. is See his Spiritual Canticle, stanza 4, in Collected Works, p. 494. 19 Frans Jozef van Beeck, God Encountered: A Contemporary Catholic Systematic Theology, Vol. 2/1 (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 238. 20 Soren Kierkegaard, "Truth Is Subjectivity," in Concluding Unscientific Postscript, ed. and trans. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), pp. 169ff. "Truth is precisely the con° tradiction between the infinite passion of the individual's inwardness and the objective uncertainty. If I am capable of grasping God objectively, I do not believe, but precisely because I cannot do this I must believe. If I wish to preserve myself in faith, I must constantly be intent upon hold-ing fast the objective uncertainty, so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy thousand fathoms of water, still preserving my faith . " Review for Religious 2~ See Karl Rahner, "Experience of Self and Experience of God," in Theological Investigations, vol. 13 (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 122- 132. 22 See "The Immediate Experience of God in the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola," in Karl Rahner in Dialogue, ed. Paul Imhof and Hubert Biallowons, trans. Harvey D. Egan (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. 176. 20 See Charles Verge, "Foundations for a Spiritually Based Psychotherapy," in Religion and Family, ed. L. Burton (Hayworth Press, 1992), pp. 41-59. 24 See also her Autobiography in Collected Works of Teresa of Avila, Vol. 1, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), chap. 40, paras. 5 ~nd 10. Teresa here recounts two visions in which God and the soul mirror each other. See also Spiritual Canticle, stanza 12, in Collected Works of John of the Cross, pp. 515-519. 2s Quoted in Thiselton, Interpreting God, p. 160. z6 Hillman, Thought of the Heart, pp. 96-99. 27 With only a quick glance, I found chap. 20, paras. 23, 25, and 26- 28; chap. 21, paras. 8-9; and chap. 25, paras. 18-19--all referring to Teresa experiencing herself as a different person. The Salvation Cup I raise my fragile, broken cup. Accept it empty. Nothing I own can f!ll it. This is the cup of my truth, my faith in the promise, my salvation cup. Fill it with the wine of the Spirit, the river that makes fertile my barren ground, the ocean of never ending mystery. This is my cup. With it I offer my fragileness, my sinfulness and my broken promises. Heal me, Spirit of God, with theelixir of salvation. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ September-October 1999 FREDERICK E. CROWE The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II An old proverb, once thought to be scriptural, warns us that where there is no understanding the people perish. Scriptural or not, the proverb itself is sound enough, and I would apply it to the institution of religious life. On all sides the question is heard: Is religious life dying? I refuse to believe that the God who gave us Anthony of Egypt, Benedict, Francis, Dominic, Ignatius, and so many others down to Mother Teresa is a God who intends religious life to perish. But I do believe in the need for under-standing, so that through our input God's operative grace may become cooperative. The Pattern of Human Thinking This essay is, then, an essay in understanding, but much more modest in scope than the preceding paragraph would suggest. It does not attempt td study religious life in its essence, its proper-ties, its various manifestations. It goes back rather to a prelimi-nary question and takes one small point for study: the Christian attitude toward what we call the "world." It is my hope that, if we gain some understanding on this background question, we will have a context for an eventual rethinking of religious life itself. Frederick E. Crowe SJ wrote "The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality" for our July-August 1994 issue. His address remains Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario; M4Y 1P9 Canada. Review for Religious My approach is historical rather than analytic. It examines the major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world. It finds a dialectic running through history, a dialectic of to and fro that is not a mere alternation, but a progressively unfolding pat-tern in which each alternation is a step forward. It concludes with the way the church is finding new meaning for its role in the world, and proposes this as a new context in which religious too might find today the meaning of their consecrated life. The advantage of approaching history as a dialectic in the sense described is twofold. First, it may lift us out of our "crisis" mood, in which we think of our present situation as a spiritual fever, as a low point from which the patient may either die or recover and resume life as it was before the crisis. In a dialectical understanding, that is not the case. The low point is an opening on a new high. Second, a dialectic follows an intelligible pattern, with each step part of a natural, though not necessarily logical, sequence. This means that, if we can plot the sequence up to the present, we may be able to establish the direction of movement and discern the path we should take into the developing and unknown future. That "natural sequence" is the pattern of human thinking in time, the way the human mind naturally works as it progresses toward fuller and fuller understanding. In itself the pattern is sim-ple enough. Faced with a problem area of any complexity, the human mind will first find some specific factor of explanation, will tend to make that the whole explanation, but will eventually see that it is insufficient as a total view. It will then discover a generic factor and will in turn make that the full explanation, only to dis-cover that this too is insufficient as a total view. Eventually, in the dialectical oscillation of specific and generic, the mind will arrive at a higher viewpoint and hold the specific and the generic in the unity of a full understanding. The Pattern Illustrated That is terribly abstract. So, before applying it to the history of Christian thinking on the world, let me offer two concrete illus-trations that show the pattern as realized in actual history. First, the natural priority of the specific is easily illustrated in human lan-guage. "So in Homer there were words for such specific activities as glancing, peering, staring, but no generic word for seeing.''1 This is "both the strength and the weakness of'early language";~ it Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican ll The term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). has the power of the concrete, but is unable to reason in abstract or generic terms. And so in learning to write English we are told to search for the specific, for the concrete descriptive word, but in the strict reasoning of, say, a legal question we may have to resort to technical and abstract language. What is true of human language is true also of human think-ing, and so my second illustration is taken from the theology of our need for divine grace. Here there was first the discovery of a specific explana-tion, namely, the fall of our first parents. This was largely the focus of St. Augustine's thinking, which centered on the difference between their state before the fall and ours after it. This idea ran its course for about seven centuries, cul-minating in the position of Peter Lombard, namely, that there are in the grace-history of our human race "four states of human liberty: the earthly paradise, fallen man, man redeemed, and heaven.''3 Our need for divine grace is understood in relation to those states. Meanwhile, however, the insufficiency of this specific step was gradually becoming apparent. There was difficulty in defining lib-erty; the doctrine of merit tended to hang in mid air; even grace itself lacked a clear definition, for what is there that is not a free gift of God and therefore grace?4 The dialectic of ideas was prepar-ing theologians for the next step, the discovery of the generic the-orem of two orders with quite distinct status in the universe of being, the supernatural order and the natural: "not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, and the natural love of God.''5 This was largely the work of Philip the Chancellor in Paris in the early 1200s. It was an epoch-making discovery, and it put the question of our need for divine grace on an entirely new basis, releasing a whole series of developments. But so intoxicating was Philip's idea that theologians made a mistake exactly parallel to the one their predecessors made in the use of Augustine: the view that this was a complete and adequate explanation. Thomas Aquinas himself, in his early writings, shows hints of this one-sidedness, not giving sufficient attention to the moral impotence that is the result of Adam's fall. Nevertheless, it was Thomas who finally Review for Religious brought, the two factors, the specific and the generic, into unity. Peter Lombard's four states remain in the Thomist synthesis, but as applying to a specific question within the genus of the total divine plan.6 The Pattern Verified in the Specific Idea of "World" I have illustrated the way the human mind naturally works in time as it advances in understanding: first, a specific idea; then, exaggeration of this idea; next, a generic idea; exaggeration of this in its turn; eventually a synthesis. I believe the pattern is discernible also in the history of Christian thinking on the idea of the world. There too I find a specific and a generic factor, with the specific the first to be discovered and exploited beyond its potentiality, and the generic the next to be discovered and in its turn exploited beyond due measure. Again let us turn from the abstract to the concrete. Concretely the first step may be located in, or at least represented by, Anthony of Egypt. Toward the end of the 3rd century, "Anthony gave away his possessions, and devoted himself to a life of asceticism, and c. 285 retired completely into the desert . Towards the end of his life, the numbers of those who turned to the solitary life of the desert increased as the result of the secularization of the church.''7 It is possible to see this development in too simplistic a fash-ion, but at least one characteristic feature is clear: flight from the world. So it produced works with titles like De contemptu mundi (On contempt of the world). It filled Europe with hermitages, con-vents, and monasteries. For twelve centuries the idea ran its course with enormous impact on Christian v.alues, Christian living, Christian institutions.8 But it suffered the handicap of being a specific idea attempt-ing to provide a total view. For one example, the term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). In this respect the laity of the church and even the diocesan clergy were deemed to belong to a lower class: they did not have a "voca-tion." A reaction was inevitable, but it was centuries taking shape. Many diverse influences were at work promoting it. Its history is a complex interweaving of those influences. There were subver-sive along with legitimate movements. But what was positive and valid in the reaction, and quite natural and basic in the unfolding Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II dialectic, was the emergence of the generic factor in the concept of the world. The Pattern Verified in the Generic Idea of "World" The quite basic event, then, in the. emergence of the generic concept of the world was the discovery by Philip the Chancellor of the two orders: natural and supernatural. I used this earlier to illustrate the pattern of human thinking as it is found in theology (not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, an'd the natural love of God). I use it now as a basic explanatory factor for the new stage of our dialec-tic. That is no accident. It is an idea so fundamental that it is bound to appear in the history of any theological idea. It underpins all that I have to say in this section and the following. Every discovery makes its way against opposition from an estab-lishment. The recognition of the natural order had to be followed by a recognition of its rightful autonomy, and that could not fail to be a traumatic experience for the church. The history of this strug-gle need not detain us here. In essence the point is that the human race was not only created divine; it was also created human, with a need for hunting, fishing, farming, for song and dance, for math-ematics, science, philosophy, whatever lies within its potency for development. Without grace we are able, Thomas Aquinas would say, using his favorite example, to cultivate our fields and build our houses. But the full extent of that principle means that without grace we can marry and be given in marriage, form guilds among artisans, establish universities, function as nations, join in a world union of peoples, explore the boundaries of space. Further, the natural has its own laws. Natures operate uni-formly: we do not gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles (Mr 7:17). And those natural laws can be isolated in thought and allowed to develop and flourish according to their own potential. For to be human is to learn: to learn that there are human tech-niques for producing good crops, human means for controlling nature, human means of self-government, human means for gain-ing wisdom and educating upcoming generations, and so on through the list. If, then, we take a broad view of the forest, not stopping to study individual trees, we can discern here the generic factor in Review for Religious the concept of the world, the needed complement to the specific factor provided by Anthony. This generic factor is the recogni-tion of the world as good in its own right. God did not create an evil universe, but made all things that they might have being and life (Ws 1:13-14; 1 Tm 4:4). That means that we can no longer be satisfied with the negative connotation of "flight from the world." There is a positive side to Anthony's strategy: its focus on the transcen-dent. The negative side is not repudiated, but it has to be seen in relation to that focus and has to be complemented by a generic view of the goodness of all creation. But the pattern of the dialectic suggests that this step too will be exaggerated, and that is exactly what happened. In the intoxication of this new idea, there was a widespread repudia-tion of the age-old flight from the world. Convents and monasteries were emptied; instead of contemptus mundi, there was a glorification of the secular.9 And so secularism arose: what was legitimate in the discovery of the natural, what was legitimate in the declaration of its auton-omy was magnified to an ism. What was a genetic idea that should have been brought into union with the specific paraded as the full explanation of the universe. A movement for the liberation of the secular became a secularism. The secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Categories Christian thinking on th~ world has gone through the two phases inherent in the dialectic of human learning: the discovery and undue exploitation of a specific factor, followed by a reaction, and the discovery and undue exploitation of a generic factor, fol-lowed in its turn by a reaction. The current need is for the inte-gration of the two factors, and the categories that offer hope of that are the sacred and the secular. This pair of terms has crept into our discussion as related to, but not identical with, the supernatural and the natural. They need more careful definition. The natural and the supernatural provide the framework of creation; they are what philosophers would call Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 the ontological constituents of the universe. But the secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation; they pertain to the cultural sphere rather than the ontological. The natural cannot be made supernatural: as Isaiah reports the word of the Lord, "my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8, NEB). God is the wholly other. Grace perfects nature but does not destroy it. The natural, then, maintains its identity within the unity of God's creative plan. Catholic schools do not use a different mathematics to add and subtract, to divide and multiply. But while the natural remains what it was created to be, it can be invested with the aura of the supernatural, and in this sense the natural can be sacralized, become sacred. Bernard Lonergan provides a context in which to locate this cultural transformation: "The whole world of sense is to be. a token, a mystery, of God"; and again: "the world of sense is. a mystery that signifies God as we know him and symbolizes the fur-ther depths that lie beyond our comprehension.''~° This means that the secular, not only as a world but also in its various aspects, can in human thought and feeling be given the character of the sacred. So in primitive peoples there was a religious ritual for plant-ing and harvesting, for coming to puberty and marrying, for rev-erent remembering of the dead, and so on. All these activities are given a sacred aspect, though their natural basis allows for their secular use. But they are only potentially secular; they are not at first recognized to have that aspect. For the human race is funda-mentally religious, in the sense of being created with a religious consciousness, and has remained religious despite all the protests of unbelievers. One may say: In the beginning was the sacred. That is, what later became distinguished as the two zones of the sacred and the secular was at first all one zone, and it was sacred. Now, just as in the ontological sphere the natural component of the universe had to be recognized for what it was, the natural, so too in the sphere of the cultural the legitimately secular aspect had to escape from the domination of the sacred and assume its independent role in the plan of creation. In the course of this development, there was inevitably a conflict with the representa-tives of the sacred; inevitably too the secular won its rightful inde-pendence. "For this sacralized construct of man and his universe was impugned and impugned successfully by Copernicus, Galileo, Review for Relig4ous and Newton, by Darwin and Freud, and by the swarm of philoso-phies" at least since Descartes.~l So the struggle between natural and supernatural was repeated here, with the same exaggerations. The extremists were not con-tent to liberate the secular; they were driven also to desecrate the sacred. Concretely we might think of the relation between a sec-ular day of rest and the Lord's Day. There has been a strong ten-dency in this matter for the sacral to dictate to the secular, imposing a religious observance so strict as to frustrate the secu-lar purpose of a day of rest. But on the other side there is the des-ecration of the Lord's Day represented in past history by the extremists in the French Revolution and, some would say, by the present Sunday shopping. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Strategy Perhaps it is possible now to sketch the lines we might follow to achieve the desired integration of our specific and generic fac-tors. Our question is: How is the church to achieve the unity of Anthony and Aristotle, of Jerusalem and Athens, of the transcen-dent and the this-worldly, and now in particular of the sacred and the secular? Our suggestion is that what had been at first unwit-tingly sacralized was then wittingly secularized. Bur what was wit-tingly secularized can be wittingly resacralized for Christian purposes as the need arises. The pagans of Rome sacralized their meat by offering it to their gods, but the Christians could, in effect, desacralize these meats with a good conscience and, if they wished, resacralize them to their own purpose: "he who eats meat has the Lord in mind when he eats" (Rm 14:6). Again, a game of golf may be just what workers need on their day of secular rest, and present discipline in the church allows them to keep holy the Sabbath and still go golfing. But the new sacralization will be different. There will be a new understanding and a new humility. The sacred will not dictate to the secular in the latter's own sphere. It will be a sacralization through the intention of believers, using the natural end of a nat-ural entity to their religious purpose. They who eat meat have the Lord in mind when they eat; they who golf give thanks alike in the weekly Eucharist and in their outdoor exercise. A final point brings us back to larger issues: sacralization will not be merely extrinsic to the natural world. On this question Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Marie Dominique Chenu Op has some helpful remarks. He sees a purer presence of the church in the world creating a new kind of Christians in the world: missionaries of the gospel, and not the protectors of a civilization that they themselves have organized. The real vocation of lay people will be to show that Christianity does not despise the world, but lifts it up, consecrates it, and ful-fills it. And this new presence will unite intrinsically with the world, will make it a true partner, for the believers will read the signs of the times and through them discern the elements in the world and human history that are, as it were, naturally open to the sacred, offering the possibility of a new praeparatio evangelica. They now look for a spirituality that will integrate their life in a world that has become the main field where they must seek their sanctifica-tion. 12 Religious Life in the Ongoing Dialectic The focus of my attention has been the new path for the church in the world today, along the lines of the Vatican Council II document Gaudium et spes. We must be clear on the church in the new age before venturing to discuss religious life in the new age, for religious are Christian before they are religious; that is the order of the council in its document on the church, Lumen gen-tium.~ 3 But of course that means that the dialectic we have dis-cerned in history will apply also to the features of Christian living that religious have in common with all Christians. In that context we may anticipate the direction that applying the dialectic to religious life should take. We will understand how the religious state began as a "flight" from the "world," and we will realize that, as our conception and knowledge of that world has changed enormously, so also must our notion of flight from it. We have come a long way from St. Anthony of Egypt. I trust, never-theless, that we have not left him behind. With all reverence we may conceive an analogy with a hymn of Thomas Aquinas that the church uses in Holy Week: "The word of God, proceeding forth / Yet leaving not his Father's side." Our task is not to aban-don Anthony, but "proceeding forth" to retain his insight and transpose it into a realization of Vatican II's "church in the mod-ern world" and of religious life as it is to be lived in the coming millennium. Our task is to achieve in our own way the unity of the specific and ~he generic concepts of the world. Review for Religious Religious, then, will retain their vows, and the vows will have the meaning they had for Aquinas, a revocatio ab affectu temporalium, a withdrawal from affection for this world.14 They will have the meaning also that Anthony's flight from the world had for him in his time of secularization. And that meaning will remain even in the most sacred of times. A focus on the transcendent and the escha-tological state will necessarily involve the reevaluation of the world that the saints have always shown: not a contempt for the good of creation, but a love for the better to which the good is open. Correspondingly, there will be far more attention to the positive aspects of the vows. This movement has already begun, but it should undergo an extensive development. Similarly for the pos-itive counterpart of the "flight": contemplation of the divine. The cloistered will redouble attention to their contemplative role, and the active will redouble attention to their role as contemplatives in action. As we follow the dialectic in its future course, we would do well to consider our starting point. The first word in the gospel message is "repent" (Mt 4:17; and see the same in Mk 1:15, but with a preface, "The time has come . . ."). Our examination of conscience in this respect might ask in what degree, if any, we transferred to ourselves as perfection what belongs rather to the realm of the sacred. Medieval theologians argued at length about holiness and the more perfect state. Should the operative word be, not "holy" in the sense of personal virtue, but rather "sacred" in the sense of "consecrated to God"? Notes 1 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1994 reprint), p. 87. 2 Lonergan, Method, p. 87. 3 Grace and Freedom: Operative Grace in the Thought of St. Thomas Aquinas (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1971), p. I0. 4 Grace and Freedom, pp. 14-15. s Grace and Freedom, pp. 15-16. 6 Bernard Lonergan, "Gratia Operans: A Study of Speculative Development in the Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas," doctoral disser-tation, Gregorian University, Rome, 1940, pp. 36-37. The preface and introduction, from which the dialectical pattern is taken, were published in Method: Journal of Lonergan Studies 3, no. 2 (October 1985): 9-46. The whole dissertation will he published in volume 1 of the Collected September-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "World"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 Works of Bernard Lonergan, soon to appear from University of Toronto Press. This section of my article simply paraphrases Lonergan's position as set forth in that dissertation. 7 The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, ed. EL. Cross (London: Oxford University Press, 1958), article, "Antony, St., of Egypt." s See, for an example, G.J. Engelhardt, "The De contemptu mundi of Bernardus Morevalensis," Mediaeval Studies 22 (1960): 108-135; 26 (1964): 109-142; 29 (1967): 243-272. On the same topic Robert Bultot published widely in books and periodicals of the 1960s under the title La doctrine du m~pris du monde. 9 The turnaround had an interesting development in the Lutheran idea. Lutheranism "does not consider the call of the pastor any more sacred than the call of each Christian to witness to the lordship of Christ in his life and work. The universal priesthood of believers., makes the vocation of every man a holy calling"; see "Lutheranism" in A Handbook of Christian Theology (Cleveland and New York: World Publishing Company, 1958). Here too there is a valuable insight, namely, the vocation of every Christian, but it is not integrated into the dialectical development on the "world." 10 Bernard Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 689, 692. '~ Bernard Lonergan, "Sacralization and Secularization," unpublished MS of a 1974 lecture (originally given 1973), p. 23. My whole article relies heavily on this lecture. ~2 Spirituality in the Secular City (Concilium 19), pp. 114-115. I have paraphrased, with frequent verbatim quotations, two pages of "Desacralization and the Spiritual Life" by Claude J. Geffr~ op. ~3 See chap. 6, §§43-47, on religious, in Lumen gentium, the coun-cil's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church. 14 On "revocatio ab affectu temporalium," see Thomas Aquinas, De perfectione vitae spiritual#, chap. 6. Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood In Genesis, chapter 45, Joseph, one of Jacob's sons, has the delicate task of revealing his identity to his brothers. Having sold him into slavery several years before, they do not recognize him now in this powerful Egyptian official, second only to Pharaoh. In his self-revelation Joseph tells his brothers, "Come closer to me. I am your brother" (Gn 45:4). To be convincing, Joseph has to do more than tell his brothers who he is; he must demonstrate this through his attitudes and actions toward them. If he was truly to be their brother, then he had to do what brothers do. Only then was he gen-uinely recognizable to them. This story has a valuable reminder for religious brothers today. The name by which we identify our-selves in life and in the church reflects a rich and prophetic spirituality. "Brother" is not only a title, it is what we are. Even more, it is what we are called and committed to do among ourselves, among the people, and for the church. Also, it is ever a reality we must become: it cannot be fully and finally accompJished at the time of our religious profession. In my experience of the church and sodety today, several forces outside lay religious life often contribute Joel Giallanza csc wrote for us as recently as our May-June issue. His formation work continues at Charles Andersen Residence; 320 Brahan Boulevard; San Antonio, Texas 78215. Septe~nber-October 1999 brothers Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brotber" We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. to making brothers unrecognizable, unknown, or unappreciated. One of them is that the church's administration emphasizes-- implicitly and explicitly--the clerical state as normative for min-istry and governance within the church, while brotherhood tends to become invisible or at least peripheral. Another is that in a vari-ety of cultures the term brother is used to designate seminarians and other candidates for presbyteral ordination. From this perspective brotherhood tends to be inter-preted as a transitional stage. These outside forces, how-ever, are not alone in influencing the public perception of brothers. Two internal forces come to mind. Sometimes we define our-selves or allow ourselves to be defined in negative terms, that is, by what we are not: unordained or nonclerical men religious. To go through life with "un" or "non" as the beginning of our self-iden-tity is not a good basis for explaining our vocation. It is even a less good basis for promoting vocations. And sometimes we do not reflect upon sufflciendy and articulate clearly our own identity, including the challenges we face simply because we dare to call ourselves brothers. Being Brother Immediately striking about the term brother is its relational character. It expresses both a specific relationship and a way of being in relationship. For us it assumes that we are willing to enter into relationships with others. It assumes we choose to be involved, not isolated. Though Vita consecrata does not speak extensively about the vocation of brothers in the church, it recognizes four relationships that are to characterize our way of life. These religious are called to be brothers of Christ, deeply united with him, "the firstborn among many brothers" (Rm 8:29); brothers to one another in mutual love and working together in the church in the same service of what is good; brothers to everyone in their witness to Christ's love for all, especially the lowliest, the neediest; brothers for a greater brotherhood in the church (Vita consecrata, §60). Review for Religious I would like to comment on these four relationships and on their prophetic implications. Brothers of the Lord Whatever else we may do, whatever our ministry, the rela-tionship that defines and shapes religious life is our relationship with the Lord. This must be the first and deepest of all our rela-tionships. Jesus says to the disciples, "You are my friends, if you do what I command you . I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from my Father" On 15:14-15). Our relationship with the Lord, our friendship with God, is rooted in knowing and doing what we have learned from the Lord. To be brothers of the Lord is to know the ways of God and to do what the Lord asks of us. To be brothers of the Lord, we must be people of discernment and people of fidelity. We must probe God's will ever deeper and then faithfully put into action all that we discover. We must be skilled in seeing God in all and in seeing all in God. We thereby proclaim and live the intimate closeness of God to this world, even when global events or personal experi-ences provide no evidence or apparently contrary evidence of such intimacy. Brothers with One Another Everything we say about ourselves and about our life together will not be authentic if we do not live in such a way that our com-mon life is marked by love, mutual care and concern, courtesy, hospitality, and a genuine interdependence. Jesus tells us that we will be recognized as his followers if we love one another (see Jn 13:3 5). Note that Jesus does not say what we would be recognized as, if we did not love one another. Could we become completely invisible, thereby rendering impossible any kind of recognition? To be brothers with one another in a religious community is much more than merely getting along; it must go beyond friendly tolerance. There are two important elements here. First, to be brothers with one anothdr is to recognize and accept that we do not live this way of life alone. We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. There must be a mutuality and an interdependence among us by which we September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" strengthen and support one another. Second, to be brothers with one another is apostolic. The quality of our life together commu-nicates something about God's presence and activity in our world. In some areas of the world, we may be the only witnesses people see, the only evidenc~ they have that God is alive and active in their lives and in their culture and society. Brothers to the People Our very title brothers excludes distinctions among us. Nationality, culture, ethnic heritage, education, ministry, natural and acquired skills--all these are gifts that are to unite us, not dif-ferences to be made into walls of division among us. So too our presence among the people must communicate without compro-mise that we make no distinctions, that we welcome and are hos-pitable to all people. To be brothers to the people also influences the way we approach ministry, whatever our ministry. Our apostolic activity among the people must be a model and a means of unity for them. We must be skilled in guiding people to work together, to appre-ciate one another's gifts, and to share those gifts with one another for the good of all. Regardless of the specific nature of our min-istry, this task of facilitating union among the people is a primary aspect of our mission and message as brothers in the church and society today. Brothers for the Church There are many unnecessary distinctions in our church today. Among the most dominant are those between women and men, between lay and ordained persons. Our presence and activity in the church must strive to communicate a perspective free of the kinds of distinctions that can and sometimes do deteriorate into divisions. To be brothers for the church is to live and proclaim, in St. Paul's terms, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male 6r female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). We know it was a risk for St. Paul to preach such a message two thousand years ago. In truth, it is still a risk to preach this today precisely because people can and do establish their identity in distinctions. Any message that seeks to Review for Religious remove distinctions tends to disrupt that identity, thereby stimu-lating responses that range from simple admonition to sharp antag-onism. I believe it is part of the mission of brothers in the church today to preach and to live such a message regardless of the con-sequences. Doing What Brothers Do What I have said so far pertains to being brothers, pertains to our basic identity as lay religious in the church and society. To be brothers of the Lord, with one another, to the people, and for the church will have a definite influence on our doing what brothers do. Doing what brothers do is the prophetic dimension of our life as lay religious. In terms of these four basic relationships, what do we do as brothers? Through our relationship to the Lord, we demonstrate the possibility of living the example of Jesus in today's world. Jesus' example of selflessness, of compassion, of service to others is not popular today. We observe the sustained promotion and tenacity of an individualism which condones and constructs self-contained and closed styles of life that do not readily respond to the influence or needs of others. The danger is that Jesus' example could be placed on the shelf of items that are no longer realistic or useful for our world: items that are fine for museums of ancient artifacts, but not really relevant for everyday life in contemporary culture. To do what brothers do is a clear expression of the importance, necessity, and urgency of Jesus' example for today. Through our relationship with one another, we demonstrate the possibility of love and reconciliation. In a world where self-ishness and self-containment become the ways of relating to one another, love and reconciliation become ever more rare. Personal histories, past mistakes, and present weaknesses become conve-nient excuses for not reaching beyond ourselves to love, to for-give, to be reconciled with others. And yet it is only through our humanity--with our histories and mistakes and weaknesses--that we can love one another. To do what brothers do means commit-ting ourselves to love and forgive and reconcile, and to take up whatever means are necessary to live that commitment every day. Through our relationship to the people, we demonstrate the possibility of living in peace and unity. The rich diversity repre-sented in social, political, religious, cultural, and ethnic differ- September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" ences is too often used as a basis for creating divisions among peo-ple. And as the barriers supporting those divisions become stronger, mutual destruction appears more effective and efficient than coop-erative dialogue. Conflict, violence, war then become the usual ways of dealing with differences in life. To do what brothers do means making every effort to show that the differences among people are graces and blessings to be celebrated, not burdens and bothers to be shunned. Through our brotherly relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility of living and ministering in equality. This equality is not uniformity; there can and must be distinctions among the many necessary ministries within the church. The important and imperative idea here is to help maintain the link between those many ministries and the common good of the Body of Christ. To create and then vindicate situations in which peo-ple are excluded or treated slightingly is not acceptable. Ignoring such situations is also not acceptable. To do what brothers do means pointing out injustices and inconsistencies--in our society, but most especially in our church. We will not be popular for iden-tifying such realities, but to neglect doing so would contradict what we profess to be and to do. The Haunting Question Male lay religious are often confronted with the simple but haunting question "What is a brother?" Brothers themselves, as well as other church ministers, struggle with formulating a satis-factory response. I do not believe that any response, however elo-quent and theologically sound, will ever be satisfactory. Indeed, it cannot be. If being a brother and doing what brothers do is at heart a matter of relationship, then our identity as brothers will be found in our actions, in our witness and our way of relating to the Lord, to one another, to others, and to the church. Thus, the only worthy answer to "What is a brother?" is simply "Watch us! Watch what we do, how we behave. Observe our love, care, concern, com-passion. Watch us. Then you will see and know what being a brother is." Are we willing to make that response? Will the integrity, consistency, and quality of our lives withstand such close scrutiny? The precedent for this response has been established already. When asked by John the Baptist's disciples, "Are you the one who Review for Religious is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus responds, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the leper~ are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them" (Mt 11:3- 5). Jesus' response invites a simple and direct method: observe, then report what you see. Could it be that we work to enhance the eloquence of our language and the soundness of our theology in responding to "What is a brother?" because we hesitate to say "Watch us"? Obviously, to invite close observation is to imply an integrity and a quality of life that are beyond question or com-promise. Writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul is boldly explicit in continuing Jesus' precedent: "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). In fact, no less than seven times does Paul make this recommendation in his correspon-dence with the early Christian commu-nities (see 1 Co 4:16 and 11:1; Ph 3:17 and 4:19; 1 Th 1:6; 2 Th 3:7 and 9). We might wince at the bluntness--almost arrogance--of his recommendation. Nevertheless, the only way to avoid rel-egating Jesus' example to the realm of theoretical ideals is by a practical demonstration of it. Only a living example can accomplish that demonstration effectively. Brothers must live in such a way that we can make this Pauline recommendation with confidence and integrity. If we believe that our God is incarnational, then the example of our own lives must be the first of all our responses to the simple question "What is a brother?" Again, we must ask ourselves about our willingness and ability to make that response. Any other response, whether from an individual religious or froma general chapter, will fall short of the convincing and transforming power inherent in a living example. Being brothers and doing what brothers do involve decisions regarding a belief and a behavior. The belief is that the example of our brotherhood, as a reflection of Jesus' own, is necessary for society and for the church today--and tomorrow. The behavior is our effort to follow Jesus with integri.ty, simplicity, and fidelity. Through our brotherly .relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility Of living and ministering in equality. September-October 1999 Giallanza * "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" This belief and behavior must stem from deliberate decisions, for they will not and cannot come into being by themselves. If they do not find explicit expression in our daily lives and activities, then they do not exist at all. If we cannot invite the world to "Watch us" when we are asked about the identity and meaning of our life as brothers, then we have only words. Such words die in thin air without living exam-ples to certify their truth. Action verifies articulations; witness confirms words. When action and witness are separated from artic-ulations and words, credibility is compromised. To speak and to act, together, must constitute our effort to define who and what we are as religious brothers and, being brothers, what we do. All else is shifting sand. All else contributes to the continued invisibility of religious brothers within the church and society. Being and Doing To be brothers and to do what brothers do are inseparable. We must strive for consistency in our life so that what we per-ceive and profess ourselves to be and what we do become a single reality. Otherwise we compromise the quality of any prophetic presence and activity we would have in the world. To be and to do as brothers of the Lord, we must be men of integrity, firmly rooted in the Lord. To be and to do as brothers with one another, we must be men of communion, who willingly choose the interdependence necessary for a healthy and whole life. To be and to do as brothers to others, we must be men of mis-sion, who love others through compassion and service. To be and to do as brothers for the church, we must be men willing to pro-vide challenge, whose commitment to the church enables us to question its inconsistencies even as we continue to love it. In the Book of Genesis, the challenge confronting Joseph is both to reveal his identity and to witness to the truth of that rev-elation. He begins with a simple invitation, "Come closer to me." He invites closer scrutiny and careful listening, confident that he will be recognized and accepted for who and what he claims to be. We religious brothers, by the very nature of our vocation, must extend the same invitation in all our relationships. The witness of our integrity, our sense of communion and mission, and the chal-lenge we present will confirm or contradict the truth of what we claim to be and profess to do. Vita consecrata says that brothers participate in the "mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life" (§60). Such proclamation and such witness are responsibilities we bear and services we provide. They are the heart of our invitation to "Watch us"--to "Come closer" and see ¯. "I am your brother." Questions for Personal and Communal Reflection These brief reflections need fi~rther refinement from the particular cultures and contexts in which brothers live and minister around the world today. In fact, the most sound theologies of religious brotherhood today will conte from within those cultures and contexts. Generic theologies of religious life, by attempting to speak to everyone, run the risk of speaking to no one. As we continue to reflect on and discuss various dimensions of our religious life, we must remain ever attentive to the specific culture and context in which we live and minis-ter. The following questions are offered as a starting point for individuals and for communities. For us as brothers of the Lord, what aspects of Jesus' example and teaching are particularly striking and significant, given the heritage of our religious congregation and the particular culture in which we live and minister? As brothers with one another, what do we desire people to see in us through our life together? What do we believe our wimess communicates to people? What evidence do we have to support that belief?. As brothers to the people, what means do we use to foster peace and unity among them? How do our ministries serve towards dialogue and reconciliation? As brothers for the church, what efforts do we or could we make in our local area to emphasize the equality of persons within the church? With what specific challenges does our heritage as a congregation con-front the church? In which aspects of our life are we confident in saying "Come closer"? In which aspects of our life fire we hesitant about saying "Watch us" in response to people's questions about our vocation? What are the principal gifts we bring as brothers to this cultural set-ring? What are the principal social and ecclesial challenges confronting us today as brothers in this cultural setting? What is the most attractive quality about our religious life in this cultural setting? What is least attractive? What means would be effective in the particular culture where we live and minister for educating the people and the church about the voca-tion of brothers? In addition to the witness of our life, what are effective strategies for promoting vocations to religious brotherhood today? Septentber-October 1999 PAUL BEDNARCZYK Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Religious congregations of brothers can no longer ignore the question of new membership. The "vocation crisis" is staring us in the face. We can debate more effective governmen-tal structures, we can plan new mission orientations, and we can write more documents about solidarity with the poor, but, unless new members join our communities, what will it all mean fifty years from now? The membership crunch seems to be hitting home more now than ever. In many dioceses and religious congregations, the vocation question has been moved to the forefront. At their annual national meeting three years ago, the United States bishops agreed on a comprehensive strategy for vocations to the priesthood and reli-gious life. In June 1998 the U.S. bishops' committee on vocations sponsored a national symposium that had an overwhelming atten-dance. In addition, both the men's and women's religious leader-ship conferences--the Conferences of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM), the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), and the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious (CMSWR)--are exploring how leadership corporately can be more active in promoting the priesthood and religious life. For the past thirty-some years, we have quietly and sometimes unconsciously watched more brothers leave our corigregations than Paul Bednarczyk CSC, of his congregation's eastern province, first published this article in Horizon, a journal for vocation directors. His address is Congregation of Holy Cross; 85 Overlook Circle; New Rochelle, New York 10804. Review for Religious enter them. We prayed for vocations, and many communities even maintained their commitment to a full-time vocation director, but few prospects have joined our prenovitiate programs. Although over the years there was a general concern about the lack of new members, still--because numbers of brothers remained in the "work force"--we felt somewhat comfortable regarding our num-bers. These days are now gone. Our congregations are aging, men are retiring, and fewer members remain in full-time ministry. Our younger members continue to be few. We must confront the new-membership question. Much has been written about societal factors that create a cli-mate unfavorable to religious vocations. Family and neighborhood structures are no longer what they once were. We are witnessing changing definitions of family: single-parent homes, blended fam-ilies, children being raised by gay or lesbian couples. In addition, physical, sexual, drug, and alcohol abuse have greatly impacted the trust and stability that families need. Individualism and mate-rialism have consumed our American culture. Authority is looked upon cynically and institutions are considered suspect. Combine that with young people's inability or reluctance to make commit-ments, and religious vocations become an uphill battle. The changing face of the American Catholic and the tension between Catholic teaching and American values also have an impact on the numbers of religious vocations. The rising multi-culturalism of U.S. Catholics challenges us. Many Hispanic peo-ple continue to abandon the Catholic faith of their ancestors for fundamental and evangelical groups. Polls claim that many Catholics believe that the church's teaching on contraception, homosexuality, and premarital sex is outdated. Although young adults in general do not see the difference between clerical and religious celibacy, they will say that celibacy is the primary rea-son why they would not be a priest or a religious. Likewise, given our democratic values, American Catholics must reconcile them-selves with a church that does not function democratically. I believe it important to mention these factors at the outset because, although they are beyond our control, they have an effect on our religious-vocation promotion. In this paper I intend to share my own reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers. Although I belong to the Congregation of Holy Cross, I have shared some of these ideas with brothers in other religious congregations. We are not alone in our struggle. After five years Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brothers as vocation director, I offer thoughts I have gleaned from numer-ous vocation talks I have heard and given, from many meetings and discussions withadolescents and young adults, from direct-ing men and women on both personal and group discernment retreats, and from my association with other vocation directors both regionally and nationally. 492 A Question of Visibility We religious brothers are invisible. To put it more precisely, people generally have no clear idea about who or what we are. I say this neither cavalierly nor despairingly, but as simple truth. Part of this is the reality that we are fewer in number. In the United States, according to thd 1998 official Catholic Directory, the number of religious brothers dropped in 1997-98 by 178, resulting in a national total of 6115. Of course, many of these are retired or infirm and therefore no longer engaged in part- or full-time min-istry- and so are even more invisible. Brothers in teaching congregations cannot assume that the freshmen entering our high schools in September know what a religious brother is. Even though some come to us from Catholic grade schools, many have not met a religious brother or sister and know little or nothing about religious life. If they do have a min-imal understanding oic our life, most likely their perceptions have been influenced by what they see in the media, which is often dis-torted, stereotyped, and scandal ridden. Their parents, too, a generation that had greater exposure to religious in classrooms and parishes, have limited understandings of religious life. They may have romanticized notions of who we once were or, on the other hand, may endlessly repeat stories of brothers and sisters maintaining uncompromising discipline and inflicting harsh corporal punishments. In addition, people are con-fused by the polarization of the various religious lifestyles. How do lay people find a balance among various extreme "liberal" and "conservative" positions taken by religious men and women? How do they understand community when the religious they know live in private apartments or are in scattered communities of twos and threes? Although there are justifications for various places on the spectrum, the average persons in the pews just do not understand. I think it safe to say that they are confused, just as we are at times. The question of visibility is more complex than the reality of Review for Relig~o~!s fewer members. It is, I believe, also related to a greater issue in the church. Without a doubt, within the past twenty years our church has become increasingly clerical. At a time when there are fewer and fewer priests, lay religious life is not always promoted in the church as enthusiastically or emphatically as it could be. In litur-gies all of us have heard public prayers for vocations to the priest-hood and privately wondered why we were not also praying for vocations to the religious life. I do not think these omissions are intentional. When I have respectfully asked presiders to include in their future prayers of petition a mention of an increase in candi-dates for religious life as well, I was usually met with sincere apolo-gies and a response such as "To tell you the truth, I didn't even think of it." Such admitted forgetfulness is disarming, but the response remains a telling one. Another reality is that many bishops and priests are "gun shy" of religious men and women. Since many of their dealings with us have been confrontational and neg-ative, it seems they may be choosing to either ignore or avoid us in order to avoid future hostile situa-tions. Likewise, we religious have suffered from our own antago-nisms with the clergy and the hierarchy, and we too may choose to either ignore or avoid them. My point is not to say that we are right and they are wrong, but rather that stereotypes and false generalizations held by either party only lead to further break-downs in communication and in understanding one another's voca-tions in the church. If we assume an "us and them" mentality, we add to the divisiveness that already exists here and there in our church, and it is the church, the people of God, that ultimately suffers from such internal strife. To pin the blame of our invisibility solely on the church would be both unjust and inaccurate. We brothers must own the fact that some of us have chosen to be invisible. In the neighborhoods of some of our communities, I would conjecture that most of the neighbors are unaware that there is a religious community of men living on their block. Instead of participating in the life of our local parish community, some of us have chosen instead to par-ticipate anonymously in a nearby parish that may provide a better liturgy or choir. At a time when many teaching congregations have made concerted and successful efforts at connecting the mission of We religious brothers are invisible. September-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brotbers their schools with the mission and charism of their community, some brothers choose not to participate in school activities, often to the dismay and wonder of lay colleagues, parents, and alumni. Although reasons for these examples may be acceptable to us, we must realize that such choices promote further invisibility and anonymity, something which we brothers can no longer afford. Without a public presence, our hope for future vocations is dim. The old clich~ has much truth: "Out of sight, out of mind." Not being part of the clerical hierarchy has given us a unique freedom that is comfortable. I heard one brother say about the hierarchy: "It's good that they forget about us--this way they leave us alone!" We come to a religious community not to dis-tance ourselves from the existing tensions or authority in the institutional church, nor to find a supportive haven for our anger against church authority, nor, for that matter, to promote our own church agenda. As consecrated religious we are men of the church and in the church. Our vocation by its very nature calls us to deepen our baptismal commitment and our relationship with the people of God. The faithful see us and look to us for who and what we are: men who through our vows have consecrated ourselves totally to God and to service within the church. They expect us to be integral to the church: when they do not see this, they are surprised and confused. If we are going to welcome men into our communities, I believe that we must all realistically deal with our feelings and beliefs about the church of today--not the church of yesterday or tomorrow, but the church of today in all of its glory and weakness. Generational Differences The majority of us have lived through the social, political, and ecclesial turbulence of the 1960s. We experienced the devastation of political assassinations, the power of the people in working for justice, and the sense of betrayal and shame that resulted from Watergate. We mourned the violence and casualties of the Vietnam War and of the racial wars that were erupting in our city streets. We underwent our own personal and spiritual transformations after the drastic changes set in motion by the Second Vatican Council. Suddenly our equilibrium was shaken. We experienced a shift in values from uniformity to diversity, from authoritarianism to collegiality, from commonality to individuality. Review for Religious We dealt with these dramatic events and changes in a variety of ways. Some simply left religious life. It seems to have been a good decision for some, once they discovered they .may have become brothers for the wrong reasons. On the other hand, oth-ers left and we still wonder why. Regarding these departures we still grieve. And, into the bargain, some of us have stayed. What are our reasons for remaining? After these radical shifts in church, society, and culture, has our dependence upon God and one another deepened, or have we learned instead to place more trust in our own self and in our material security? Have our vows increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Do we face the uncertainty of the future with excitement and hope, or with cynicism and despair? If we are to witness to an attractive lifestyle option, we must answer these questions honestly and reexamine our own commitment to religious life. Unlike many of us who were brought up with the order and constancy of a triumphal church, our young people today have experienced conflicting messages from a church in transition, and they seek, simply, truth. In the face of New Age spirituality and watered-down Christianity, there are those who, in their desire to know more of what it means to be Catholic, resort to tangible, traditionally Catholic symbols. I find it fascinating that Exposition and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament is making a comeback on college campuses. In the midst of the noise and rush of their aca-demic lives, students appreciate the hour of silence in the pres-ence of Mystery. Similarly, young adults are rediscovering the virtue of Mary, and have found the rosary to be an attractive form of prayer that is identifiably Catholic. Some ofos may be quick to categorize these young people as conservative or wacky, but these are students who volunteer weekly at local soup kitchens and par-ticipate in "alternative" spring breaks with Habitat for Humanity. They are also class officers, athletes, and students on the dean's list. As I have discovered, our younger people defy the neat and tight boxes in which we tend to categorize them. Have our VOWS increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Relig4ous Brothers To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is inconvenient and at times even uncomfortable. In my meetings with men who are exploring a vocation, I have found that it is not because of ministry, education, or social-justice convictions that they are drawn to religious life. Our church has evolved to where, if this were their primary desire, they could eas-ily do this in a Catholic institution as laypersons. They are com-ing to us first and foremost for the religious life itself. To live in the secular world as a committed Christian espousing Catholic values is difficult for them. They admit their need for a community of like-minded individuals who could strengthen their love for God and their Catholic convic-tions. They are not looking for just a nice group of people who do good work. They are looking for men who know and can lead them to God and who can give them a sense of hope in a world that has become increasingly pessimistic and destructive. They want to pray together, share their faith, and bring the Good News to people through their ministry. They acknowledge the Eucharist as central to our faith, and they have devotion to it. Since they often come from an unchurched, nontraditional back-ground, they seek structure and definition. From our community perspective, that is quite an order to fill! Some of you who are reading this are probably wincing and saying, "I thought we got away from that years ago!" To put it simply, I believe we find ourselves in the middle of a generation gap. Thirty years ago some brothers retained their habits, sat in their pews, and looked with distaste upon those who wore jeans and colored shirts and prayed on throw pillows. They thought that, for sure, religious life was quickly going down the tubes. The younger brothers, however, challenged the older brothers to renew their zeal for religious life by adapting to a different lifestyle, one that was based more on shared expressions of faith and on more interpersonal, communal living. Likewise, the younger members were taught by the elders to appreciate the tradition of our life and consequently were enriched by their fidelity to their vows in the face of change. Since some of us have lost a younger generation in our con-gregations, we have forgotten what it is like to be challenged by the young. The lively community dynamic that occurs with the mix- Review for Religious ture of generations--the elderly, the middle-aged, the young--does not happen in many of our local communities. As a result, many of us have grown comfortable with one another and in our life together. For the majority of us, the mutual challenges and exchanges that we all remember from our earlier years and that occur naturally between the young and old do not happen anymore. At forty-one years old, I am still considered one of the "young" brothers in my community. I realize that much of my religious life has been lived with men older than myself. Although I am thank-ful for the benefit of their example and wisdom, as I enter my own midlife I realize that I have been deprived of living with the con-tagious energy and enthusiasm of much younger religious. I know that I need at times to be challenged to think in new ways and to experience life differently. Most of us are middle-aged or older. If we are to have a newer generation following us, we must--even if it becomes increasingly more difficult as we age--be open to the renewal of our basic val-ues: prayer, community, and lifestyle. Ironically, those who are considering religious life look for deeper community experiences while some veterans of thirty or forty years say they are tired of the routine and demands in community. How do we bridge this gap? To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is incon-venient and at times even uncomfortable, but I know of no other way. Although youthful idealism may need some tempering, we must admit that at least it is refreshing. We have now become the "older" brothers of yesterday, and, like the older ones of thirty years ago, we too are invited to new ways of thinking and being as we look to the next generation in religious life. I do not believe that age has to be a deterring factor. When I hosted discernment retreats for prospective candidates at our retire-ment facility, I would invite three of our elderly brothers to tell their vocation stories. The combined witness of almost two hundred years of faithful religious life is better than any vocation brochure I could ever design! Their authentic fulfillment in Holy Cross and their continuing joy and vitality were always evidence to these interested men that this life can be lived and can be lived well. Our young people look to their elders for inspiration. They hunger for the wisdom that comes from living a prayerful and reflective life with God. If, however, they see stagnation, apathy, and cynicism, they are left disillusioned and wanting. For many of us, our lives as religious have been deeply enriching and grace filled, and yet some September-October 1999 Bednarczyk * ReligiousBrotbers of us are reluctant to share these experiences with each other. We underestimate at times the power of our stories. In many religious congregations it has been the tradition to respond to "the signs of the times" and to the contemporary needs of the church. I maintain that we need to continue this spirit of openness not only to our mission and ministries, but also to our religious lives as well. The Answer Is in the Present I do not claim to have the answers for the future. To be truth-ful, my worry is not for the future, nor is it for the past. It is the present that is my concern. We can only theorize about the future, as we can only reminisce about the past. Such intellectual exer-cises tend to distance us from the responsibility of making neces-sary choices about our lives and our community in the present. In general, given the societal changes and challenges discussed above, some recerit shifts in our culture seem to coalesce with our lives as religious brothers. For example, our society displays a renewed interest in spirituality. Celebrities from Oprah to Madonna have made daily meditation chic again! With the pro-liferation of self-help and support groups for every issue imagin-able, people long for connection and belonging. They desire "to share their story" and to be validated by a group. Corporations are supportive of community service, and some school systems have included service components in their curricula. As a result, volunteerism is at an all-time high. Ironically, many authors are making lots of money with their best-selling books on how to sim-plify one's lifestyle. It would seem that religious brotherhood would somehow fit into this picture. Our life is a wonderful secret that needs to be shared more now than ever before. As religious brothers we bring, I believe, a special gift to the church. Our faith teaches us about a God whose love is uncondi-tional and whose mercy is unlimited. If faithfully and genuinely lived, our vows attest that fulfillment is to be found more in the transcendent than in the transitory. Where division and broken relationships characterize many families and marriages, our com-mitment to community life, despite its inherent struggles, myste-riously witnesses to welcome, order, acceptance, and equality. I have read many books and articles detailing futures for reli-gious life in temporary vowed commitments, lay associate mem- Review for Religious bership, satellite communities, blended communities, and so forth. All of that makes for interesting reading and good discussion, but I return to the question: What about now? How do we live now the vows we professed, however many years ago? Do we do so with the passion, zeal, and love of our early years? I do not believe that the answer to the challenges of our pre-sent situation is as simple as the reconstruction of past external structures. Our lives are much more complex today than they were thirty years ago. No one can deny that our traditional structures served us well, considering the church and spirituality of the time, but it would be naive to expect the former ways to meet our con-temporary needs. We can romanticize about the past, but we know that it is impossible to turn the clock back. I am, however, not convinced--at least in my own congrega-tion- that we are at present compelled to create new models and forms of vowed religious life. We do not need to reinvent the wheel. We need to insure that the wheel we already have is on the right track. Besides, since Vatican II, a number of experimental lay and religious communities have already been formed, imple-menting exciting new models of lifestyle and commitment. How they will fare in the future, only time will tell. I am convinced that as brothers we need to reclaim who and what we are. We are men of the church vowed to a life of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. We commit ourselves to a life of prayer and mission with each other in community. Given today's society and culture, these core values are what make us countercultural. Our vows are meant to be lived joyfully, with hope. This life was meant to be lived in relationship with God and with one another. Our challenging times invite us to probe and to enter more deeply into the essence of our vows and the mysterious grace that comes with this life. I believe in the gift of religious life, and particularly in the gift of religious brotherhood. I want a future for us because I believe the church would b6 lacking without us. Knowing how much I have been enriched by my own vocation to Holy Cross, I desire to share this gift with a new generation of religious. I am sure that the majority of members in our communities desires the same, but to do this requires conversion and a courageous open-ness to the Spirit that speaks to us today--and not yesterday and not tomorrow. [--z~00 September-October 1999 AVIS CLENDENEN II On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming journeying It has been sixteen years since I requested and received a dispensation from my religious vows. The following reflection explores--from ethical, psychological, and theological perspectives-- the experience of malting and breaking promises and leaving the vowed religious life. Principally I will be drawing upon the ethical con-siderafions of Sister Margaret Farley RSM, the psycho-logical insights of Dr. Carl Rogers, and the theological depth of Father Karl Rahner SJ. These pages reveal a slice of an experience shared by many--that is, the mak-ing of a religious commitment, living in a vowed reli-gious community for years, developing bonds of trust and friendship, experiencing a crisis of fidelity, discov-ering the personal inability/choice to sustain the orig-inal commitment, and ultimately breaking the commitment and leaving religious life. A suspicion I had as I thought about examining the psychology and theology behind the making and break-ing of promises was that Rogers and Rahner had more than their first names in common. I sensed they shared a fundamental understanding of the human person, the Avis Clendenen PhD, associate professor of religious stud-ies and director of the Pastoral Ministry Institute, teaches pastoral theology and ministry at Saint Xavier University in Chicago, where she can be reached: 3700 West |03rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Revie~v for Religimts human dilemma, and the graced and flawed human quest of becom-ing whole and free. The following reflection reveals some signif-icant connections between Rogerian psychology and Rahnerian theology and offers a way of viewing the painful process of leave-taking and becoming. The painful and hopeful contours of this all-too-familiar experience can be traversed again in openness to the possibility of deeper revelations about the choices we make that sustain our word of love. Sixteen years from my departure after a thirteen-year commitment gives me perspective and a desire to return and examine the process of making promises, breaking promises, and becoming. In the fall of 1969 at nineteen years of age I entered the Sisters of Mercy. My letter of request to enter was all of two paragraphs composed by a nineteen-year-old touched and transformed, as late teens can be, by the turbulent events of the 1960s: My reason for choosing religious life as my way of life is because this in the only life that makes sense to me, as an individual. I want to express my life as a commitment of love to God and His Church. I am not quite sure why there is an attraction to the Mercy order in particular, but I believe my potential for giving and receiving, of freedom and ful-fillment, lie within this community. By the time I would profess my final vows in 1978, all refer-ences to God in the masculine pronoun were to be stricken from my vocabulary. By 1978 1 would be a graduate of the Jesuit School of Theology, having been the first woman admitted to its master-of- divinity program. Throughout the 1970s I struggled with the weight of a patriarchal church, including the graces and conflicts surrounding the inclusion of women in all ministries of the church. I would, over the expanse of years, come to greater clarity as to my "attraction" to the Sisters of Mercy as women of valor and vision, with a deepening sense of gratitude for the reciprocity of our rela-tionship. The issues of freedom and fulfillment became bemus-ing, and the turbulent times never did seem to abate. At thirty-three years of age, thirteen years after my entrance and less than four years after my final profession, I received a dis-pensation from my vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. The following are excerpts from the letter I wrote to the provincial administrator, initiating the formal leave-taking process: To try and summarize all the spiritual and psychological investigations I have done would be an injustice to all that has September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming gone into this decision. To say too little would be an injus-tice to the quality of relationship I have shared as a Sister of Mercy throughout these years. I feel great pain as I accept responsibility for breaking my promises. But it was the pain of remaining in religious community that finally made the decision. I have asked myself again and again about the truth and integrity of the final commitment professed in 1978. That moment expressed the insight and honesty that was available to me; and while only four years ago, it's been a lifetime. In the months I have lived alone, I have read all the journals from my thirteen years as a Sister of Mercy. I saw the patterns of my struggles repeated year upon year. I read and remembered delightful times in community. My loneli-ness lines many pages. Notes from numerous retreats reminded me of my love for God. And, oh, the growing rage at the institutional church as it demeaned me and our efforts for women's voice and body to be celebrated all places, including the altar. I do not believe that in asking for a dispensation from my religious vows I am walking away from the vision of Catherine McAuley, the works of mercy, the body of Christ, or the commitment with feminists to liberate ourselves from the patriarchy. I am stepping away from a vowed relationship among you. I promised to persevere for life. I believe I per-severed until there .was no more life for me. I am so very sorry. I do not look for understanding, I~ut I will always expect compassion for that is why we bear our name. For the compassion that has been shown me and I have shared with you, for the years of service given expres-sion to as a Sister of Mercy, for the treasured moments and persons, I will always be grateful. I remain a believer and a daughter of Catherine McAuley. I hold now with courage and trepidation her legacy, my Bible, and I turn a corner. And trust. To Give One's Word Yale University Professor of Christian Ethics and Sister of Mercy Margaret Farley's tough thinking on the meaning of fidelity and its claim of obligation form an important frame of reference in analyzing whether one has the moral sanction to end a com-mitment. Sister Margaret Farley wrote her book on commitment in the late 1980s, when the permanency of commitments in American marriages teetered at a fifty-percent divorce rate and when "defection" from the priesthood and religious life in the Review for Religious American Catholic Church continued to deplete the ranks of ordained and vowed Catholic ecclesial leaders. For many years I successfully avoided Margaret Farley's 1986 book Personal Commitments: Beginning. Keeping. Changing. Research for this article inevitably led me back to her work and the challenges to think hard about why we give our word in mak-ing commitments, why we are obliged to keep them, and under what circumstances we may be morally released from them. Farley suggests that the rise of the human-potential movement served to shift the goals of many from the challenges of permanent commit-ment, fidelity, and responsibility, toward the increasing warrant of the call for per-sonal growth and self-actualization. It was as if these two venues for being and becoming were mutually exclusive. Those who had previously interpreted their life in terms of a religious vocation began to claim the. need to transfer voca-tion from one locus to another. "It was not always easy to tell whether these were expressions of faithfulness or of irresponsibility and betrayal."' What does it mean to say you make a promise with a sense of its truth and integrity and then years later suggest that your insights and sense of integrity have changed so signifi-cantly as to justify a breaking of the bonds and a release from obli-gation? Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed fr6m the vows professed in an act of freedom, a free action always given into the hands of an uncertain future? As Farley eloquently explains, commitment has to do with the free action of free persons who give their word as part of them-selves. Commitment m~ans to give my word because that word belongs to me and I freely choose to entrust it to another's keep-ing. In a sense, commitment means to share with one or more per-sons claims on my being there in a promised way with and for them. While my word is "given away," paradoxically I still pos-sess it because it is myself. In commitment we freely take on an obligation to do as we have promised. The motivation for the kind of commitment we are discussing here is always love. "By assuming certain frameworks for love, we Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed from the vows professed in an act of freedom, September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming commit ourselves to whatever we understand essentially to con-stitute this framework."2 The profession of religious vows to be lived in the mic

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

Issue 48.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1989. ; Ministry and Ministries On Becoming An Apostolic °Hermit Mid-Life Divorce And Alienation The Readmission of Former Members Volume 48 Number 2 March/April 1989 Revn~w t:or Rt~LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Soi:icty of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428: St. Louis. MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U,S. $5.00 per year: for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~v~w t:oR Rt~t.~GOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w ~'o~ R~:t.t~no~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor "~"~ Contributing Editor ~% ~,~,¢~ Assistant Editors °"'~ March/April 1989 Volume 48 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspundence with the editor should be sent to R~:\'~:w ~'o~ R~:~.t~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; SI. [a~uis, MO 63108-3393. Cnrrespondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'on R~:t.~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write Io the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Computers easily make available various readouts of statistical in-formation. While I was perusing the printout listings of our January- February 1989 issue, 1 began, to realize how much I take for granted the exchange of information in our contemporary world. This international exchange of information through a journal like REVIEW FOR REL~C~OtJS pro-vides one of the most valuable prisms which exist for expanding our worldview and our unders.tanding of religious life. I want to share with you a few of the statistics about the interriational readership. First, I should call attention to the fact that REVIEW has sub-scribers in all fifty states, the District of Columbia, and the U.S. territo-ries, such as Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, Guam, American Samoa, the North Mariana Islands, and the Canal Zone. Roughly this grouping takes in about sixty per cent of our subscription list. Our readers are also from all ten provinces of Canada, including the Yukon and the North-west Territories. Subscribers are also present throughout Mexico, six countries of Central America, ten countries of South America, and throughout the West Indies. REWEff FOR REt.~C~OUS has large numbers of subscribers in the English-speaking countries of Europe, such as England, Ireland, Northern Ire-. land, Scotland, and Wales. But its readership is spread throughout Aus-tria, Belgium, Denmark, France, Italy, Malta, Netherlands, Norway, Po-land, Portugal, Switzerland, Spain, Sweden, and West Germany. The subscription lists are large for India, the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand, with a widespread distribution throughout the coun-tries. Africa, too, is well-represented, with subscribers from some twenty-two countries, such as Republic of Ivory Coast, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Lesotho, South Africa, Liberia~ Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Uganda, Zambia, Sudan, Tanzania, Swaziland, Sierra Leone, Malawi, Cameroun, and Mauritania. REVIEW also serves readers in Indonesia, Bangladesh, Thailand, Ma-laysia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Israel, Jordan, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Sin-gapore, and Hong Kong. As editor, I think that I may want to take a win-ter trip to visit our subscribers from Fiji, Papua New Guinea, Gilbert Is-lands, Solomon Islands, and Western Samoa. These listings do not exhaust all the places R~:w~:w FOR reaches, but perhaps this kind of enumeration can give all of us a greater 161 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 appreciation of the catholicity of the articles we read and the religious life we try better to understand and live. Of course, this international dimension is reflected in the authors who submit manuscripts and in the content matter of the articles submit-ted. For example, in this issue, Father Donald Macdonald, writing from England, reflects upon the situation of Church members in some com-munist- dominated countries of Eastern Europe. Brother Martin O'Reilly shares with us his vocation director's experience, working in Liberia and Sierra Leone in Africa. Father Robert Maloney calls our attention to an impressive lay-movement of young people who serve the poor in Italy. Reverend Paul Casper, who first went to Burma as missionary in 1952 and later served as the first American Dean of St. John's Cathedral in Hong Kong from 1982-1986, reflects on the influence of his fellow An-glican, C.S. Lewis, upon his experience of spiritual direction. As editor, I want to continue to welcome readers and writers from all over the world. REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS will continue to be enriched by the .reflections of people who come from different community, mission, and cultural life-experiences. Through this journal, we are being given a new window--varied prisms--upon our world and upon our religious iives.~ David L. Fleming, S.J. Ministry and Ministries John R. Sheets, S.J. Father John Sheets, S.J. is well known to our readers. His last article, "Spiritual Direction in the Church," appeared in the issue of July/August, 1987. Father Sheets may be addressed at Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Ne-braska 68178. In the remarks which follow, I try to distinguish two related but radically different forms of ministry: that which is primordial, the ministry of pres-ence, and that which is functional, activities, some of which are institu-tionalized, others not, which serve to constitute and build up the Church. The ministry of presence is overlooked today. When people speak of ministry they tend to speak only of functional ministry, various ac-tivities which in one way or another build up the Church. However, they forget that the functional ministry is always built on and presupposes a primordial, or deeper form of ministry, the ministry of presence. Though it is risky to use masculine-feminine analogies today, I think that those who can bypass the loaded nature of such language, and re-gain a certain direct vision of those realities, without the prejudices of our times, can spontaneously recognize in the ministry of presence quali-ties which are feminine, and in the mini~stry of function, masculine char-acteristics. I do not mean, of course, that functional ministries belong only to men, and not to women, or that men cannot exercise qualities of presence. The distinction is aimed at calling attention to two related but different modalities of ministry: a mode of being in and with, which is presence; and a mode of being for, which is function. We live in an age which is centrifugal. The self is caught in a kind of cyclotron that empties the inner self as it pours itself into more and more things to do. For this reason in the remarks which follow there is an attempt to recapture the primordial ministry of presence, which alone 163 164 / Review for Religious,. March-April 1989 can vitalize, energize, the ministries of function. In a sense it is an at-tempt to see how the feminine principle of presence lies beneath all other activ.ities within the Church, providing the presence of the Spirit, who alone breathes life into those activities which are ordinarily called min-istry. Without the presence of the breath of the Spirit, ministry in the sense of activity is like those dry bones Ezekiel describes (Ezk 37), strewn about in a valley, lifeless skeletons that have a faint resemblance to a living person. Hans Urs von Balthasar in Elucidations (London: S.P.C.K., 1975, p. 70) describes what I have just spoken of as a kind of "masculiniza-tion" of the Church. "The Church since the Council has to a large ex-tent put off its mystical characteristics. It has become a Church of per-manent conversations, organizations, advisory commissions, congresses, synods, commissions, academies, parties, pressure groups, functions, structures and restructurings, sociological experiments, statistics; that is to say, more than ever a male Church . " General Reflections on the Meaning of Ministry Before going into some specifics in regard to ministry, I would like to give a working description of ministry that will include everything pre-sented in this article about various ways of speaking of ministry. Most of the time discussions on ministry begin with a description of various activities in the Church that are exercised for the good of others, either as individuals or as :a community. This approach is a valid one. But it also tends to play into models which belong to other forms of hu-man activity for the good of any society, not specifically the society we call the Church. Hence, it is possible that, without realizing it, what is secretly at work in discussion of ministry are models coming from hu-man social structures, such as civil society, instead of those that respect the uniqueness of the ministries that belong to the Church. One has to see Christian. ministry in terms of the complete newness of the forms of activity that the Christian calls ministry. The Church, on the other hand, does not exist only as a heavenly city coming downfrom above. It exists in the world in interaction with other societies. It also has similarities with other societies, especially the state, But the danger is to lose sight of the uniqueness of Christian ministry, and to reduce it to secular models. I want to speak of Christian ministry, then, by beginning from a slightly different perspective than is customary. Ordinarily discussion of ministry begins by talking about different activities in the Church as they are exercised by different members. But it might be more helpful to ap- Ministry and Ministries / 165 proach ministry in a reverse direction. Ministries come from awareness of needs that have to be taken care of within the Church. Ministries are always a response to specific kinds of needs. Ministries in the Church then are those activities which are generated within the Church in re-sponse to the needs of the community. In somewhat the same way, all "secular ministries," such as schools, hospitals, civil authority have to be understood primarily as response to needs within the community. There are no ministries that are simply there, self-evident, self-explanatory. Ministries.exist only because they are called forth as a re-sponse to certain needs. They are essentially relative then to the need that calls them forth. They come, go, remain as the needs either remain or come and go. Their importance ranges from fulfilling needs which are essential to the existence of the Church (for example, the ministry of holy ordi~rs), to those which are i, mportant for'its well-being, but not essen-tial tbqts very existence. This,is true both forthe secular notion of ministry, as well as the ec-clesial. But the needs in each case are radically different. Hence, the re-sponse, or the ministry will be radically different. To understand minis-try, then, one has, so to speak, to work backwards, from need to re-sponse. The respbnse in turn depends upon the particular gift, whether of grace or nature, to respond to the need. St. Paul always sees the gifts of ministry in this sense, as Spirit-evoked responses to community needs. Ministry t.hen is called forth by the particular needs of the organiza-tion as social whether the social body is sec.ular or religious. Some of these needs are practically identified.with the continued existence and Well-functioning of the.body; for example, in the state, different levels of auihority are 'called forth from the need to preserve the society so that it keeps its identity and reaches its goals. The importance of the minis-try varies. Its importance is relative to the nature of the need that has to be taken care of. But our question is concernedowith the society called the Church, not secular societies. Ministry in the Church is the Spirit-created response to the unique needs of the new kind of society' that came into the world-through the institutiofi' of Christ and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pen-tecost. The basic needs.to be responded to are those to which Jesus him-self responded. The Church exists only to carry out what Jesus intended in his life and redemptive death. The deepest need of humankind, then, is the.need for redemption. This is the need that Jesus came to fulfill. He had no other purpose. All ministries in the Church are relative to the one basic need, the need for redemption. "166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The primary ministry in the Church, then, is that which he commu-nicated to his,,apostles. He breathed into them his own mission or his own ministry. " 'As the Father sent me, so I send you.' He then breathed on them saying, 'Receive the.Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, they stand forgiven; if you pronounce them unforgiven, unforgiven th.ey remain' " (Jn 20:21-23). He creates a correlation between his ministry which comes from the Father, and the mission of the apostles, which comes from Jesus. They are to minister to the fundamental need of hu-mankind, reconciliation with God and with one. another. Thus th+ fundamental ministry of the Church which is poured into the Church is to respond to a need at the heart of the whole of humanity and even of the universe itself. If this ministry fails, then the mission of Ctiiist is aborted. The raw fundamental need of humankind remains un-touched. "We are still in our.sins" (see 1 Co 15:17). Within that fun-damental ministry, which makes die mission of Christ present, ,there are other subordinate ministries, each of them in one way or another a par-ticipation in the fundamental response to the need for redemption. All forms of ministry in the Church, therefore, are responses to the radical need of humankind, the need f+r redemption. They are not self-actuated responses like those belonging to other socie.ties. They are di-rectly evoked and sustained by the Spirit ~vhose intention is to carry out in the Church what he initiated in the life and death of Christ. St. Paul uses a striking metaphor to bring out ministry as response to need. He calls himself a debtor to everyone. What he owes them is the Gospel. This is the Spirit-evoked gift to answer the radical need in the human heart. M6re than health, money, food, or anything else, the radical need is for Christ. "I am in debt to Greek and to non-Greek, to learned and Simple" (Rm i : 14). The Need for the Presence of Christ: Ministry as a Mode of Being Present As I mentioned in the beginning, it i~ important at the outset to dis-tinguish, ministry according to two different modalities: (a) ministry as presence,, which is a mode of being-with, what I called above, the pri-mordial form of ministry, and (b) ministry as partiizular activities which are ways of doing that flow from being-for others. The latter has to do with activities which flow from and presuppose ministry in the first sense. Most often when people talk about ministry they refer only to doing something. They forget that ministry as we find it in the Church is situ-ated within what is deeper, the mystery of an existence that has been trans- Ministry and Ministries / 167 formed through grace. This transformed existence brings a new mode of presence into the world. I spoke above of ministry as the Spirit-created response to need. The great absence, and therefore, the deepest need, is that of the absence of God in the hearts of individuals and society. The first mode of "minis-try" then is not some particular kind of activity. Rather it is a mode of presence that penetrates a person's whole being. It is a kind of "glory," or radiance that end/elopes a person's whole life. It cannot be located within any one particular kind of activity. "We all reflect as in a mirror the glory of the Lord" (1 Co 3:18). Like a mirror, Christian existence reflects tothe world the presence of Christ. This is the primary mode of ministry. This "presence" or glory comes from the fact that, as Paul says, we are a "new creation." "When anyone is united to Christ, there is a new creation; the old order has gone, and a new order has already be-gun" (2 Co 5:17). He tells the Christians that in the midst of an evil world they are to "shine like stars in a dark world, and proffer the word of life" (Ph 2:13). All of Paul's exhortations about what to do as Chris-tians flow as corollaries from the mystery of their transformed existence as a new creation. The images that Jesus uses to describe the primary ministry of the Christian do not concern specific activities. He calls the Christian salt, light, leaven for the world. The Christian's pri(nary ministry to the world, then, is not some particular activity, but a kind of epiphany of the presence of the New Creation. The most fundamental ministry then is to live the Christian life in its fullness. It is a doing that is identified with their very being. How they live flows from who they are. Very sim-ply it is the call to be holy. It helps us understand this primary form of ministry if we reflect on the fact that all Christian ministry receives its meaning insofar as it takes on the.pattern of Christ's ministry. In Christ, we see the perfect expres-sion of "ministry." All that he does flows from who he is. The myste-rious interaction of Jesus with everyone came.from an awareness of a pres-ence in him Which eluded all categories and particular activities. Similarly his primary activity in the Church is not through specific ministries, for example, orders,.charisms, and so forth. It is the fullness of his presence filling the whole Church. "He put everything in subjec-tion beneath his feet, and appointed him as supreme head to the Church, which is his body and as such holds within it the fullness of him who himself receives the entire fullness of God" (Ep 1:22-23). "Be assured. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 I amowith you always, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). At center of all particular ministries in the Church, then, is the mystery ~f presence. Christ's own ministry is the Si~irit-evoked response to the most radi-cal needs of humankind redemption, salvation, atonement. "I have a ba, ptism wherewith I am to be baptized, and how I am straitened until it be accomplished" (Lk, 12:50). His fundamental ministry then is to re-veal the Father's love. This love is not only an affective, but also an ef-fective love. The Father shows his love through the redemptive gift of his Son. Hence, the mode of being of Christ is a redemptive mode of being. He is from the beginning the? ',Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world." His ministry then is identified with his whole being. No matter what he says or does, it is always the expression of his gift of himself: "This is my body given for you. This is my blood poured out for you." Christ's presence then is a special mode of presence: a re-demptive presence. All particular activities flow from his pervasive pres-ence as the Suffering Servant. The Church itself has only one primary ministry. It is the sacrament of the presence of Christ. It exists only to bring to the world what Christ accomplished through his ministry, to bring.~the world in touch with the mystery of Christ. All of the various particular ministries in the Church, ways of doing, flow from the primary ministry which is a mode of being present. Similarly, the primary mimstry of the Christian is that of pres-ence where God is absent, to be light in the darkness, leaven in a dead world, salt in a world which has lost its savor. The failure to recognize the primary ministry as that of presence has led to many ambiguities, in discussion of ministry today. One gets the im-pression that greater participation in ministry is only (or mainly) being able to participate in many activities which were closed to a person up to the present. But in reality the primary ministry is to respond by pres-ence to what is absence, or anti-presence. This has always been the pri-mary ministry of the saints, canonized and uncanonized. The m.inistry of presence creates an atmosphere that is broader, deeper, more pene-trating, both stronger and more delicate, and more effective while it is more self-effacing than what is brought about by particular ministries. Yet it has to be admitted that this primary notion of ministry is often neglected~ The activistic mentality that pervades our society sees minis-try mainly as involvement in more activities, o~ in activities associated with one form of ministry, that of Orders. But the ministry of presence is not a matter of this ministry or that. It takes in a whole constellation of activities that identify the New Creation. Th.ey are not so much spe- Ministry and Ministries cific activities as Christian modes of being. St. Paul describes this min-istry Of presence as the harvest of the Spirit: "lbve, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Ga 5:22). The ministry of presence, then, takes in all of those activities which are gr0upe~d under the names of the spiritual and corporal works of mercyL''When I was hungry., thirsty., a stranger., naked. ill . in prison" (Mt 25:31f). In particular, it takes on Christ's minis-try as the Suffering Servant. "I have set you an example: you are to do as I have done for you. In truth I tell you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor a messenger than the one who sent him" (Jn 13:!5-16). As Paul says, "Let your bearing toward one another arise out of your life in Christ" (Ph 2:5). All of these activities belong to the Christian qua Christian, not to the Christian as having a particular form of ministry. They are insepara-ble from the Christian identity itself. These activities form the primary ministry of,the Christian. I have spoken, then, of ministry as the Spirit-evoked response to needs. The primary ministry is the response to the need for the presence of Christ through the Christian in the world which still needs to be touched by the redemption. This is the ministry that flows from the pres-ence of the New Creation. Presence in torn is not one or other specific activity. It is a kind of epiphany that shows itself in the constellation of activities that irradiates from the New Creation. Ministry on this foundational level is related to specific forms of min-istry as the atmosphere is to thir~gs that breathe. The specific forms of ministry are lifeless unless they live out of this atmosphere that identi-fies the Neff Creation. Yet it has to be. admitted that popular ways of speal(ing of particular ministries in the Church isolate them from their roots in the primary form of ministry, which is a mode of being present as the New Creature to the Church and to the world. It is on the level of the ministry of presence that really important but unheralded ministry takes place in the Church. It is that which belongs to states of life, such as, for example, marriage. The "ministry" of ¯ mother or father is not this or that particular activity. It is a mode of lov-ing presence that creates a kind of a cosmos of relationships which we call the family. Others, for example, a baby sitter, can carry out particu-lar activities that a mother or father also do. But it is only when such particular activities are rfianifestation of the mystery of presence, the mys-tery of motherhood and fatherhood, that such activities create the mys-tery that we call the family. 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Catholic lay person, like every other Christian, exercises the min-istry of presence. This presence obviously comes to the fore in ways of acting that are spe~:ifically Christian. But those particular activities have their power because they are witness to a presence that makes Christ pre-sent in the whole of one"s life. The p~resence is that of the New Crea-tion, in a quiet hut powerful way emitting signals that show the 'presence of Christ in the secular world. They are like beacohs of light sending rays out into the night, both illumining the darkness an~! attracting people to the light of Christ. Particular Ministries in the Church Finally, after this long buildup, we come to the place where most people usually begin discussions about ministry. They mean particular activities in the Church directed to building up the Church that have ec-clesial recognition. "Above we spoke mainly of ministry as the manifold group of activi-ties that flow from the new mod~ of being which St. Paul calls the New Creation. They are not activities in the same sense as the particularized m~nistries. In the particularized ministries one does something to accom-plish something else. But in the foundational ministry one is not "'do-ing" one thing to accomplish something else. Rather it is a ministry of transforming presence. "To crown all, there must be love to bind all to-gether and complete the whole" (Col 3: 14). "'I may dole out all I pos-sess, or even give my body to be burnt, but if I have no love, I am none the better" (1 Co 13:3). Ministry as a particular activity ~n the.Church presupposes and lives off the foundational ministry which is presence, the presence of the Holy Spirit in individuals making them the New Creation: The Holy Spirit, then, draws individuals into the love of Christ by givingthem gifts to respond to particular needs in the Church. St. Paul's description of.min-istry always presupposes the presence of the Holy Spirit in the individ-ual not simply as an individual but as a member of the Church. Gifts are given to individuals to enable them to fulfill a need within the Church. Presupposing, then, the fundamental ministry of presence, St. Paul speaks of various ministries which the Holy Spirit calls forth to respond to various needs. While each is izalled to the primary ministry of radiat-ing the presence of Christ to the whole (the fundamenthl ministry), there are particular functional-roles within the community called forth to re-spond to a whole range of different needs, some more essential than oth-ers. Paul describes some of these. "And these were his gif!s: some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teach- Ministry and Ministries / .17"1 ers, to the building up of the Body of Christ" (Ep 4:1 !-13). "Now you are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it. In the Church, God has given the first place to apostles, the second to prophets, the third to teachers. " (1 Co 12:18f). However, the primary ministry, the ministry of presence, with love as its animating principle, should animate all the particular ministries. "Be ambitious for the higher gifts. And I am going to show you a way that is better than any of them" (1 Co 12:31-13:1). Then he goes on to describe the ministry of all ministries, the mystery of love as the primary "ministry" to which we should aim. Ministries on this level have to do with the whole social unit, the whole Church. They reorientate a person's whole existence to take on a specific kind of relativity,from Chr.ist,for the Church. This reorienta-tion is such that it modifies in a new way the person's Christian iden-tity. There are three modes in which the presence of the New Creation is radicalized in an individual: the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and holy orders. Theologically the term "character" describes what St. Paul calls the metamorphosis, the change in the inner structure of a per-son's life (2 Co 3:18). This is the radical reorientation of a person's whole being, first of all, through baptism to become the New Creation, to respond to one's own radical need--the need-for redemption; then, through confirmation which takes presence to a new dimension, orien-tating the baptized person to the needs of the whole Church; then, through holy orders which radicalizes in a person Christ's own gift-presence, making a person "steward of the mysteries of God" (I Co 4:1), a person whose presence is to draw forth the New Creation. The traditional theological term, "character," then, describes three modes of the presence of Christ in the New Creation. Flowing from these modes of presence are different kinds of activity. I have commented briefly above on the mode of presence that comes through baptism and confirmation. These are modes of presence and ac-tivity which belong to all Christians by virtue of their baptism and con-firmation. It is what is specifically called the mini~stry of the laity. Within that mode of presence there are many kinds of activities, as, for exam-ple, that which belongs to those who are married, or to those engaged in secular occupations in the world. I shall comment briefly on the kind of presen.ce that belongs to the priest. It has two sides. The priest mediates to the Church and the world the presence of Christ. On the other side, the priest draws the whole of Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the Church into the presence of Christ. Like John the Baptist the priest is to introduce the Bride to the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom to the Bride. Priestly ministry has a.single purpose: to bring about the New Crea-tion- to nourish, sustain, and guide the New Creation by word and sac-rament. All of priestly activity then is some form of transubstantiation, that is, to change the old reality into the new. The priest's whole being is to transform the world by touching it with the redemptive event of Christ. The priest lives from Christ, for the Churchl' But at the heart of all ministries in the Church is the radicalization that takes place through baptism which brings into being the New Crea-tion. Confirmation and orders have their roots in the new mode of pres-ence of Christ in the individual and the Church through baptism. Con-firmation draws out another aspect of the giftedness of the New Crea-tion, that is, the apostolic dimension to "let your light shine before oth-ers . " Orders is a gift of the Spirit presupposing baptism which em-powers individuals to draw forth from the "old creation" the New Crea-tion, through word and sacrament, and to direct the community in the ways to live out the implications of the New Creation. Problems Associated With Ministry St. Paul describes ministries as the work of the Holy Spirit in call-ing responses from within the New Creation to particular needs within the Church. The images he uses always suggest harmonics or coordina-tion. In a sense, the Holy Spirit is like a conductor calling .forth from each individual player in the symphony that which leads to the harmon-ics of the whole piece of music. One of St. Paul's favorite images to bring out the .sense of harmonics of ministries is that of the body, where the whole exists for each part, and each part exists for every other part, as well as for the whole. "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord, working in all sorts of different people; it is the same God who is working in all of them" (1 Co 12:if). The words "same Spirit," or the "one Spirit" oc-cur about ten times in the passage to show that ministry is a Spirit-evoked response to different needs. The same emphasis is found in Ephe-sians 4: If. "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit. , there is one Body, one Spirit . . . one Lord, one faith~ one baptism, one God." It is interesting that Paul's extensive description of the interplay of the gifts of the Holy Spirit for the good of the whole Church is found mainly in a community where there was the greatest.disharmony, the Ministry and Ministries / "17'3 Church at Corinth. He is therefore calling attention to a special kind of sin, the obstruction of the power of the Holy Spirit in the very persons who are called to build up the body of Christ. But the situation at Corinth does point to what have always been three problems with ministry in the Church: (1) the failure to see minis-try as the Spirit-evoked response to different needs within the Church; (2) the failure to see that each ministry has its meaning not in itself, but only insofar as the foundational ministry of presence animates it; (3) the adaptation of the uniqueness of Christian ministry to secular models. I shall comment on these briefly. (1) The problems in the Corinthian community that turned the sym-phonic movements of the Holy Spirit into groups of warring factions have always been part of the sinfulness of the Church. Basically it is the problem of what in Jungian psychology is called the "persona," the pub-lic image a person seeks before the eyes of others. The symphonic na-ture of ministry becomes discordant when one's attention turns from the ministry in itself to an awareness of the public image associated with dif-ferent ministries. The attention then is not on what the Holy Spirit is do-ing through one's ministry, but on the way ttiat one's own glory appears before others. Some even felt they got a better public image by the fact that they were baptized by a person associated with such an image-creating personality, for example, the eloquent and gifted evangelist, Apollos, in contrast to someone like Paul who apparently did not pro-ject such an image. (2) The second problem which has plagued the Church in her past history, as well as at the present, is tile dissociation of the ministry of doing from the primary ministry of being or of presence. For this reason Paul insists that though the Corinthian Community exercise all of the other ministries, even to the point of giving all they have to the poor, or giving their bodies to be. burnt, yet if they are isolated from th~ min-istry of presence, of being, that is love, (hen all activities are like activi-ties of a corpse. There might be much activity, very busy people, but it does not carry the life-giving power of the Spirit. It is dead. The lack of holiness in those who are supposedly the New Creation has been the biggest obstacle to the work of the Spi.rit during the whole of the history of the Church. (3) The third problem, related to the first two, comes from a failure to recognize the uniqueness of ministry in the Church. Ministry in the Church is a reversal of all notions of service that we find in societies that owe their existence to some natural cause, for example, the state or the 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 family. In these societies, a person enters at a certain level, then makes every effort to move to the top, with increase of salary, prestige, power, and the expansion of the "public image" as one works to the top. In the process, whoever is above is a threat because the one above stands in the way. Those who are below are looked on as inferior. Judgments about the importance of different "ministries" are always made accord-ing to the ladder\of the upward-bound movement and then more specifi-cally to what rung of the ladder one is on. This problem has always been with the Church. It was practically im-possible for the apostles to put this new wine into old wineskins. They argued who was the most important. Then Jesus taught them, "If any-one wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and the servant of all" (Mk 9:35). The sons of Zebedee asked Jesus, " 'Grant us the right to sit in state with you, one at your right and the other at your left.' Jesus said to them, 'You do not understand what you are ask!ng. Can you drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I am to be baptized with?' " Jesus tells them that if he as master and Lord has washed their feet, then they should wash one another's feet. This is a symbolic way of describing Christian ministry. Paul says, "Rivalry and personal vanity should have no place among you, but you should hum-bly reckon others better than yourselves" (Ph 2:3). I am sure there are many other problems that have to do with minis-try today. Some are organizational problems, others from many of the feminist questions. The ones I mentioned above are attitudinal. They have always been with us, and are with us today. They can be at work also in other problems such as organizational or the feminist issues. I can-not imagine people agitating for a job which, for example, would mean that they would take a salary cut, pay more taxes, have longer hou.rs, and work anonymously. The Christian notion of ministry~ is even more out-landish than that. Ministry and Religious Life In his Apostolic Exhortation on the religious life, The Gift of Redemp-tion (March 25, 1984), Pope John Paul II presents what is probably the most profound theology of religious life that has ever been thought out. He roots religious consecration in the New Creation that comes into be-ing through baptism. Religio6s life then has its primary ministry in what we spoke of above as the ministry of presence. It is foundational to all other particular forms of ministry. But the presence that forms the fundamental ministry of religious life takes on a particular paschal duality. It is to image forth the life of Jesus Ministry and Ministries as the Suffering Servant. It exists to show forth the duality that belongs to Christ's own paschal mystery. The paschal duality means that one and the same reality has two related aspects: the cross (sacrifice) and the res-urrection (the New Creation). The vowed life of the religious, then, is to bring into the world a particular modality of paschal presence. That is the fundamental ministry: the ministry of the paschal presence. But there are particular ministries which religious congregations ex-ercise for the good of the Church and society. When we look at the his-tory of the Church in our own country, these ministries are numerous. Some of the majors ones are education, hospitals, orphanages, care for the elderly, but there are many others, including the contemplative life of intercession for the Church. Other forms of particular ministries have emerged over the last twenty-five years. But it is the foundational ministry above all which must activate all particular ministries. To quote Pope John Paul: "It is precisely this wit-ness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the Redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels" (no. 14). "From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes par-ticularly visible, there comes., as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission . . ." (no. 15). He goes on to speak of the particular apostolates. Then, "And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are ex-tremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the apos-tolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriate-ness, these words of Saint Paul: 'For you have died and your life is hid with Christ in God' " (no. 15). Conclusion Questions about ministry are very much with us today. Many of these questions were brought up in the recent synod on the laity. But the end results did not bring much clarification. Perhaps the most positive result was to bring an awareness of the need for a theology of ministry that relates ecclesiology, pneumatology, grace, sacraments, and voca-tion. I am sure that the synod wa~ an important step along the way to clarification. As the history of the theology and development of doctrine show, clarification of issues that touch the life of the Church very pro-foundly is a long process. .What I have tried to do above could be summed up as follows: (I) since ministry belongs to a unique reality, namely, the Church, which "176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is, so to speak, held together 'from above,' through the Holy Spirit, min-istry in the Church is unique, and cannot be reduced to service as~we find it in any human society; (2) ministry is not self-initiated but originated by the Holy Spirit in order to respond to needs, some of which are con-stitutive of the Church, for example, sacrament of orders, and others which depend on historical, sociological factors; (3) the primordial min-istry is that of presence, which cannot be limited to presence of the Spirit "because God's love has flooded our inmost heart through the Holy Spirit he has given us" (Rm 5:5); (4) particular ministries address par-ticul~ ir needs within the Church or the w.ay the Church interfaces with the world; (5) three main problems were singled out: (a) the use of min-istry to glorify oneself; (b) the shift from primacy of presence ("the more excellent way" which Paul describes as love) to a primacy of par-ticular ministries; (c) the subtle adaptation of the gospel paradoxes about ministry ("Then if I, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you ought also to wash one another's feet" (Jn 13:14) to promotional mod-els taken from secular societies; (6) finally, I spoke of the particular min-istry of religious, whether active or contemplative: it is the ministry of a special mode of presence, a kenotic presence, which translates the words of Jesus, "this is my body given up for you . . . blood poured out for you" into the three evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, obe-dience, creating a paschal presence which animates all particular minis-tries. Come and See: An Experiment in Vocation Discernment in Africa Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C., does vocation counseling work in Liberia and Si-erra Leone. His address is Christian Brothers; P.O. Box,297; Monrovia, Liberia. ~lln unkind joke, certainly thought up with post-Vatican II religious life in mind, asks: how do you join a small religious congregation? Answer: join a big one and wait. It is, however, a joke that would not be under-stood in many parts of the Church, particularly in Africa. Let me explain. Between 1975 and 1985 the number of local priests rose in West Africa by a staggering 630%; local sisters increased by 280% and'brothers by 340% (Statistics compiled from L'Englise Catholique en Afrique, edited by Pere Perraud, Pontifical Missionary Union, France, 1987). T.he prob-lem for many seminaries and religious communities in the younger. churches is not so much trying to attract candidates, but to find ways in which to sort out the wheat from the chaff. This article will focus on the ways in which vocation counselors can effectively carry out their ministry in situations where the large numbers applying for entrance to religious communities, the newness of the ,~o-cation to many people, and the particular backgrounds of the applicants make it difficult to accurately assess the. seriousness of an application. If the postulancy is to really be a preparatory period for entry into the. novitiate, and not simply a sorting out of suitable candidates from the unsuitable, then there is need for some kind of system of deselection prior to that. A method for doing so is what is proposed here. It is the result of my own involvement over these past five years in vocation coun-seling in Liberia and Sierra Leone. 177 "17~1 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Game Plan ~ Perhaps the best way to begin is by saying how I don't carry out my ministry: I don't advertise; I don't give talks in schools or churches; I don't have a telephone; I don't have my own means of transport; and I am not fulltime on the job. I prefer, rather, to spend a couple of weeks, five or six times a year on the road, covering some 3,000 miles or so, visiting those who have contacted me. I stay with them in their town or village, and meet their family and friends. Just as an ordinary friendship grows, so does mine with .those who have expressed interest in the life of a Brother. Through the people who have invited me to visit their homes, I have met others who want to know more about the religious vocation. Many people have joined our community through a friend or relative introducing them to me. Since b~ginning in my ministry in 1982 I have developed a network of contacts that r.uns into the hundreds. When my relationship with an applicant has developed past a cer-tain point, I then invite him to "come and see" where 1 live. I invite him to spend ten weeks with myself and the community. Apart from help-ing with his transport costs, he has to arrange his own travel documents and come under his own steam--just as any person would have to do, were he or she to travel and visit a friend in a far-off place. The idea behind the ten-week vocation discernment program is for candidates and the community to experience each other for a sufficient length of time, allowing both parties to get to know each other, and to see if they are compatible and willing to grow together in community, prayer, and service. :Who Is Invited? ~ There are fivemarkers I would look foi in a person suitable for ac-ceptance into the pre-postula.ncy program (I am presuming that an appli-cant is baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, has reasonable references and is in good health): (I) An applicant must have shown evidence of being able to commit him-self to a group within the Church (for example, The Legion of Mary, St. Vincent de Paul, Y.C.S., or a prayer group) for a substantial period of time. Simply "attending Mass'? regularly is not enough evidence of a commitment to the Church within the African context. (2) An applicant must have "nets to leave behind." The economic con-dition of many of the countries in West Africa is such that the vocation . of a priest or a religious can be a very attractive proposition. It offers a person security and status, to say nothing of sanctity! Those straight Come and See / "179 from school are not usually in a position to have ~proved their compe-tence in the art of living and providing for themselves. With few excep-tions school-leavers have the added problem of not seeing entrance to a religious community as anything more than pursuing "further stud-ies." Those who apply, and have no job, I advise to look elsewhere. (3) The family of an applicant must be able to understand what decision a young person is making in asking to join a religious community. There has to be some significant member of the family, not necessarily a par-ent, who supports his intention. The applicant, for his part, must explain to the family that all he is trying to do is to "find God's will." If he finds out that it is not God's intention forhim to be a religious, then he should tell them that he will return home a wiser person; but if it is, then he must explain thathe will be returning to join the community as a pos-tulant with, hopefully, the understanding and support of his family. (4) An applicant has to be able to see that there are difficulties for him in asking to join a religious community. His ability to talk of his'fears about the demands of a celibate life are as good an indicator as any of the degree of his seriousness. If he cannot see this as a tremendous chal-lenge, then I tell him that he probably has not thought enough about the vocation. (5) With regard to the intellectual ability of an applicant, it is essential that he be capable of tertiary education. A person's particular paper quali-fications do not always reflect his academic ability, so it is not appro-priate to apply the same rules for entry to everyone. A candidate should certainly have finished his secondary school education and not beqook-ing to resit exams at a later date. If I am unsure as to the suitability of a person applying for the pro-gram, I will give him the benefit of the doubt; but when it comes to en-try into the° six months postulancy, and I am s.t!ll unsure of his suitabil-ity, I give the benefit of the doubt to the community and ask him to look elsewhere for his vocation. The Rationale Behind The Program The pre-postulancy program, as outlined here, is conceived of as an extension of the vocation counselor work, .rather than the beginning of religious formation. Those selected for the prograrfi--never more than twelve--are fully aware of the temporary nature of the experience, and understand that at the end of the program they may, or may not, be in-vited to apply for admission to the postulancy program. For most of those entering the program, this will be their first expe-rience of living in a multi-cultural environment. Great care, therefore, 180 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is taken to make our candidates feel at home--if not, then they will prob-ably wish they were at home.! We have found that candidates, at this stage of the life in a religious community, prefer to share rooms and need ample opportunity for settling in ,and' being themselves. It goes without saying that the personnel involved in directing the program are comfort-able living with young people and are prepared to trust them. I have found that for a pre-postulancy program to work well, there must be a group of candidates with a specified program to follow. Sim-ply inviting young Africans to come and live with a religious commu-nity and to occupy themselves with some form of pastoral work is not a sufficient basis for helping them understand the meaning of religious life. Candidates need clear guidelines so as to help them negotiate the difficulties in living in a structured environment with others from differ-ent backgrounds and cultures. Growth in appreciation of the meaning of religious life will take place when candidates begin to experience the com-munity as sufficiently safe and supportive so that they can be themselves. However a person presents himself prior to joining the community, he cannot maintain a pretense for long when invited to participate in a strong community experience. Candidates, also, can be so concerned with try-ing to match our real or imagined expectations of them that they find it difficult not to think of themselves as playing the lead part in a drama scripted by others. As far as is possible I make the agenda of our daily living together the responsibility of all and try to foster a sense of ac-countability among them, a sense that "we are in this together." For people to encounter themselves, others, and God in a real way there has to be a ring of authenticity about the experience. I am espe-cially interested in exploring with those invited to join the program their notions about themselves, talents as well as weaknesses; the ways in which they handle questions relating to anger and misunderstanding~ sexu-ality and intimacy, and obligations towards family members--as well as the ways in which they enjoy praying. Matters spe(ifically related to the meaning of the vocation to the religious life, I leave for later on in the p6stulancy. Hopefully, as a result of this approach candidates come to build up their identity as members of the community and as people of prayer on more than the superficial foundations of rules and ritual. Sometimes formators can be afraid to get close to c.andidates, pre-ferring to treat them in h remote fashion. This is, 1 feel, wholly unac-ceptable within a cultural climate where tactile contact and verbal com-munication are so important.~Shaking hands, giving hugs and passing the time of day together are as natural to Africa as the sunshine. Most of Come and See 181 those applying to join us have encountered a good deal of opposition from their friends and family. They need to know from the outset that they are really welcome into the community, not simply for who they might become, (that is religious brothers), but for who.they actually are. That is not to say that there is no room for tough love, but simply that the most effective direction will be given by the formator who is capa-ble of sharing his or her affection for the candidates in concrete ways. A crucial element in thesuccess of the "Come and See" program has been the close presence of professed religious, actively involved in the mission of the congregation, and a novitiate community prepared to welcome candidates, albeit for only ten weeks, into the religious fam-ily. Both professed members and novices have provided a tangible ex-pression of the ideal and the possibility of becoming a religious candi-date. The director of the program is also supported by this in the com-plex business of evaluating applicants to the postulancy. Counseling and helping people discern their vocation is very much, at this stage, a group experience. The value of regular or weekly com-munity meetings, with the opportunity of bringing into the open any is-sue of concern to individuals or the group, cannot be overestimated. If something important to one or more of the candidates is being intention-ally avoided by the community, then nothing of importance will be ta~ked about either. Our weekly sessions start with a review of the pre-vious week and points arising from the reading of the community jour-nal take up the first part of the meeting. I have known that part of the meeting to go on for two hours. The principle of dialogue in Africa seems to be "to talk until you agree"! The length of the program--ten weeks--is long enough for both the candidates and the community to come to have a fair idea of one another, and yet short enough for a person to feel as though he has not burnt his boats by leaving home to enter into a religious community. Having a ter-mination point after ten weeks, instead of say six months, lessens the .chances of early drop-outs and an accompanying lowering of morale 'within the group. It also makes candidates feel free to reevaluate their own decision in the light of their experience of religious life and leave without recriminations, should they feel that such a life is not for them. Conclusion In the five years that the Brothers' Formation Center has been in op-eration in Gbarnga, Liberia, forty-two candidates have completed the "Come and See" program. To date, we have eight postulants, four nov-ices and ten junior professed. Most of those who have left us did so at 1~19 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the end of the pre-postulancy program, and left in good spirits. Those who entered the postulancy, and have stayed with the community, say thai the important thing about the pre-postulancy program was that it was religious life "small, small" and hence made them able to realize the importance of being themselves within a culture (religious life) vastly dif-ferent from the 6he they were used to. They were more able to relax and relate to the idea of becoming religious once they knew that they were accepted for who they were; and not who they might become. If those who enter the postulancy do so with some semblance of realism in terms of themselves, and the firm knowledge that "it. is indeed good when brothers dwell as one," then there is a reasonable chance that they can give themselves fully to the significant step of embarking upon the path of becoming members of the Congregation, and I as vocation counselor will have don~ my job. Assessing The "Moral Integrity" Of Candidates For Religious Life Charles Shelton, S.J. Father Charles Shelton, S.J., has a doctorate in clinica! psychology and is currently an Assistant Professor of psychology at Regis College in Denver, Colorado. A more detailed understanding of this theory of conscience is presented in his most recent book, Morality and the Adolescent: A Pastoral Psychology Approach. New York: Crossroad, 1989. His address is Regis College; 3539 West 50th Avenue; Denver, Colorado 8022 I. Over the past twenty years, it is safe to state that the application process for entering reli~ious life has radically changed. Gone are the days when a simple behavioral observation of the candidate's religious practice or the encouraging word of a religious who knows the candidate suffices for entrance. Instead, the application process for most orders and insti-tutes focuses on a thor~ough social history, detailed interviews, psycho-logical evaluations, and an overview of the candidate's sp!ritual life. Sur-prisingly, little has been written regarding one crucial aspect of the ap-plication process--that of the candidate's moral integrity. This article ad-dresses this issue by offering a theoretical yet practical view of the can-didate's capacity for moral growth. The linchpin which holds together the candidate's vocational aspirations with his or her moral integrity is "conscience." Accordingly, we will provide a model of conscience and suggest a practic,al approach which will be of use to vocation directors and interviewers of candidates. The thesis of this article is that the "moral integrity" of a candidate is a crucial area of assessment and that a perspective which utilizes an integrative understanding of conscience offers the best way for providing a thorough examination of the candi-date's capacity for living the moral life. 183 11~4 / Review for Religious,~ March-~April 1989 ,The Moral Life of the Candidate Perhaps one reason that little has been written about the candidate's moral life is that one simply "assumes" that anyone wishing to enter priestly ministry or a religious congregation possesses an upright moral character. Although understandable, such a position remains question-able. Any vocation director can readily provide stories about candidates who express interest .in religious life, many of whom are ill-suited for psychological reasons, as well as at times "moral" reasons, for proceed-ing with the application process. The question of the candidate's moral integrity, however, has taken on new significance over the past two decades. Several reasons can be offered why serious examination needs to be given in this area. First, many candidates seeking to enter religious life today are ~lder. This be-ing the case, the backgrounds and experience of the candidates provide an often admirable, yet at times puzzling, array of experiences. Many involved in the candidate selection process at times wonder what has re-ally gone on in the life history of the candidate. Secondly~ the psycho-logical nature of candidates often admits to a complex personality struc-ture which is threaded with a variety of motives and psychological ex-periences, not all of which are compatible with the demands of the re-ligious community.For example, I was once presented with a situation about a candidat~ to a diocesan seminary. The candid.at~e had. admitted to several questionable behaviors but now contended that a conversion experienc6 had resolved these issues. Since I did not know the candidate, I refused to offer an opinion regarding his suitability. I did suggest, though, that given the behaviors in question careful scrutiny must be given this person's motives. The capacity for rationalization is virtually limitless. Thirdly, the complexity of today's ministerial roles and struc-tures necessitates a well-developed and well-defined moral conscience Which allows flexibility, sustains insight, and fosters behaviOr~ which are~ healthy and which nurture moral integrity. The recent scandals surround~ ing sexual acting out among priests and religious necessitate a.well-integrated conscience which assists a person in reflecting 6n his or her own vocational commitment. All in all, conscience remains the single most vital human mechanism for assisting an individual's living of dis-cipleship. As a consequence, it becomes important to offer a view'of con- ~Cience that is'integrative and best captures the human desire to live the life of Christian discipleship. As a clinical psyChologiSt my own view is that for conscience to make sense it must be intimately rooted within the very human experience of life; indeed, conscience must arise from The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates / 185. the very depths of human experience as it responds to the self-commu-nicating presence of God's offer of grace. This perspective allows the very moral integrity of the person to be encapsulate~l within the reality of h.~uman life and surface in the very depths of human personhood. Ac-cordingly, I think that conscience is best explained as the decision for other-centered value in the concrete decision of everyday life. That is, conscience serves as the capacity to appropriate more and more the Chris-tian dynamic of love in the existential reality ot~ one's life. It is the one force .within life that serves to break through deceit and self-deception and challenges one to strive for a more authentic living of discipleship. In order to see this clearly, I would like to offer a model of con-science that incorporates seven dimensions. My thesis is that only an ex-amination of these seven features will allow a more complete and thor-ough understanding of a'person's capacity for moral int'egrity. As a way to assist the application process of candidates, I will offer specific com-ments and questions that are applicable for a candidate seeking to enter religious life. Through an eva, luation of these seven dimensions, a more adequate sense of the candidate's moral integrity can be ascertained.~ Evaluating for Moral Integrity Within a model of conscience, the following seven dimensions should be considered. Adaptive Psychic Energy. We are what we focus on and experience. Stated another way, what we give attention to offers insight into the type of person that we are. Psychic energy is required for all human endeav-ors. Indeed, perceptions, thoughts, emotions, attachments, and behav-iors ~all rely upon an adequate investment of psychic energy. At the same time, psychic energy is itself limited. One has only so much energy to invest. Thus, to tend to certain tasks and goals precludes, by necessity, investment in other ventures. Developmentally, psychic energy is best utilized in the successful resolution of developmental tasks. Applicants seeking to enter religious life require careful scrutiny of both their level of identity formation as well as their capacity for intimacy. Most likely, individuals who are without a sense of healthy identity or a balanced and mature sense of the demands, ambiguities, and feelings associated with intimacy are susceptible to the pull of a pervasive dependency or the un-due influence of others (or environmental situations) which deflect needed psychic energy for spiritual growth. Moral growth is most apt to take place when one can bring to one's evolving and (increasingly. con-solidated) ethical self the accumulated wisdom derived from a felt (yet evolving) sense of "who I am" and the felt attachment (yet continual 186 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 self-discovery) that "I am loved and I do love." Some needed questions to consider in this regard include: To what extent does this ~:andidate know who he or sh~ is? How influenced is this candidate by his or her own needs or by the influence of others? With what degi'ee of self-awareness can the candidate speak of a sense of self-definitioh? Does there exist appropriate intimacy experiences in this per-son's life (or for yoUn(er candidates, the maturing capacity for inti-macy)? Has this candidate's sense of identity and intimacy allowed for greater self-awareness that is capable of dealing with increasing ambi-guity and the com, pl~xities of adult (and religious) life? Defensive Psychic Functioning. Healthy growth is dependent upon adap-tive psychic functioning which incorporates mature defense mechanisms. Defense mechanisms are psychic operations whose function is to allay anxiety and.p~rovide a more flexible and adal~table resPonse to reality. Healthy defenses include sublimation, a flexible and resourceful sense of humor, role flexibility, s~ppression's"(the conscious contro~l of im-pulses), and altruism. Needless to say, the living in community and the demands of the chaste life require wide use of these defenses in order that the religious might integrate and deal with sexual and aggressive urges. Community life, the constant demands of the apostolic life, and the need to continually appropriate the ideals of the vowed life require an adaptable and flexible approach to others. On the other hand, there exist a' wide variety of defense mechanisms which are apt to prove un-healthy for living and which in turn stunt moral growth. These include: projection (the attributing of unacceptable feelings to others); externali-zation (the blaming of one's difficulties on others); acting out (the ac-ceding to impulses); rationalization (the making of excuses); stereotyp-ing (theorefusal to allow and accept differences); and compartmentaliza-tion (the excluding of one area of life from self-examination). A classic example of this last defense is the person who lives a credible life as a religiousin most areas of life, yet refuses to look at one area such as sex-ual acting out. As the candidate becomes less able to marshal mature defenses, the inevitable result is a limit of self-knowledge and of reflective self-awareness needed for interior examination. Naturally, this form of lim-ited psychological functioning is bound to impact on the discerning of choices or a balanced and realistic reflection on personal life issues. Some pertinent questions are: Does the candidate rationalize'? exter-nalize? project? and so forth. What does personal responsibility mean for this candidate? How comfortable is the candidate with his or. her ira- The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates pulses? How does the candidate sublimate? How does the candidate deal with ambiguity? To what extent is creativity possible for this candidate? Empathy. Conscience is not only rational reflection; it includes emotional investment and attachment. Empathy best exemplifies this emotional ex-pression since it points to the capacity to bond and show sensitivity to others. Normally, empathic expression is not an issue for religious. How-ever, there exist several areas for scrutiny. Does the candidate overem-pathize? The person who cannot maintain healthy identity boundaries is apt to lose objectivity. Further, when empathizing how does the candi-date deal and integrate his or her empathic stirrings? How self-aware is he or she of emotional distress which arises from pastoral situations which often elicit intense internal feelings? This issue is critically im-portant because burnout (an ever present problem for members of caring professions such as those in religiousolife tend to be) often results from continual exposure of the self to empathic distress (experiencing the pain and hurt of others in pastoral situations) which, over time, wears down the religious both physically and emotionally. This burnout in turn less-ens the capacity for reflection, healthy objectivity, and discerning choice. Self~esteem. Adequate self-esteem is indispensable for maturation. S;~lf-esteem refers to a felt sense of inner goodness and a sense of self-competence. There are several ways self-esteem relates to the candidate's level of moral integrity. First, without a healthy sense Of Self-esteem, a person is psychologically limited in the capacity to admit personal fault and the seeking of forgiveness. Lack of self-esteem leads invariably to over-compensating behavior and desires for control; or, conversely, there exists denial~ of responsibility or rationalizations. Without self-esteem the religious who hurts a fellow community member is disinclined to view himself or herself as bearing responsibility for the hurtful action. An equally problematic behavior that is likely to surface from lack of self-esteem is over-dependency on the behaviors and thoughts of others. In other words, the religious who lacks a felt sense of "inner goodness" is vulnerable to being overly influenced by another. Consequently, such "neediness" is likely to evoke blindness regarding personal action and the rationalization of specific behaviors. Several questions come to mind that could be integrated into an as-sessment of the candidate. First, does the candidate genuinely "like" himself or herself? Is the candidate capable of independent and mature judgment which is open to input and guidance from others? At the same time, are there indications that this candidate is overly dependent on ob- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 taining a good impression from or the approval of others? Guilt. Feelfngs of guilt exact a tremendous toll on the psyche. They can be'the source of debilitation leading to weakened self-esteem, depres-sion, a sense of personal devaluation, and compensating behaviors which often take on a compulsive quality. Still, there is a vital, indeed neces-sary role for guilt in moral development. Healthy guilt serves as a vital linchpin'in orienting one to awareness of personal transgressions and the need for forgiveness. Furthermore, such guilt' experiences induce a re-sponse that is caring and sensitive to the concerns of others. Admittedly, the experience of guilt is one of the most difficult psychological tight-ropes to walk. If experienced too intensely, its effects can be crippling. On the other hand, to deny the experience of guilt deprives the self of' a naturally occurring psychic experience whose function nourishes increas-ing sensitivity and altruistic responding. My own impression is that many religious downplay the vital role that guilt exercisesin the experience of forgiveness, I suspect this is most likely due to many religious' own back-ground and difficult time with guilt feelings. Several questions are pertinent. How. has the candidate dealt with moral transgressions in his or her own life? Can he or she discuss them? Is there a sense of openness and also a healthy distance from these past experiences? What has the candidate learned from these experiences? Is the candidate still reacting to them? How does,the candidate speak of his. current limitatiohs? How does the ~candidate believe that he or she needs further growth? Note here the view of growth from a sense of positive integration as opposed to a compulsive sense of goals to be accom-plished. Idealization. The role of idealization is vital for the development of a healthy moral sell It is within our capacity for 'idealization that the can-didate 'is able to construct a view of the order or congregation and the personal desire"to enter religious life. Idealization speaks of dreams, hopes, desires and what the ca.ndidate wishes to become. It implies a mold~ ing process of gradual evolvement which is shaped from images and hopes yet to be realized. Idealizations indicate the quality of one's emo-tional investment and the underlying values to which the moral self is committed. Several questions are pertinent.~,How realistic is the candidate's view of self? religious life? It is to be expected th~at the view of both self and the order/congregation might be somewhat distorted; and the issue b'(- comes how open 'is the candidate to having his or her idealizations rfiodi-fled? A further question refers to the capacity of the candidate to deal The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates with disillusionment. Since idealizations are so valued, the failure of them to occur or be implemented can lead to tremendous hurt and an-ger. Behaviors emanating from such perceived slights and disappoint-ments include acting out, cynicism, passive-aggressive behavior, ration-alizations. In other words, the negative affect resulting from disil-lusionment can cloud healthy moral reflection and an authentic living of the vows. Teleology. A final dimension of the well-integrated conscience is a re-flective sense of purposive meaning. A teleological perspective is sim-ply one's capacity for rational reflection which provides reasons ("that for the sake of which") why one's behavior is carried out. Candidates to religious orders and congregations, of course, are capable of reasoned and reflective behaviors. The issue here is more the "style" of one's telic inclinations rather than the content of the reasoning. In other words, most people could give reasoned responses for their behaviors. The key for mature functioning, and most certainly for moral functioning, is the motivation behind such reflection. Tendencies to be observed include the following: Does the reasoning of this candidate contain a healthy per-sonal investment? Is there an emotional investment in his reasons? Con-victions are most apt to be lived out when they contain a mature blend-ing of reasoned reflection and emotional commitment. On the other hand, does the candidate isolate affect? Does he or she appear to sepa-rate reasons from the emotions which such content would naturally elicit? For example, a candidate who would,speak of a particularly disturbing experience in a cold and very intellectualized way might well not be aware of underlying emotional dynamics. On the other hand, the candi-date whose rationales are continually interspersed with an impulsive qual-ity or tinged with emotionally laden content might be too absorbed in de-veiopm+ ntal issues or underlying dynamic processes to offer healthy dis-tance and the requisite discerning that is needed for moral decision mak-ing. Conclusion This article has underscored the significance of exploring the moral integrity of applicants in any overall assessment of candidates. It is ar-gued that moral development is not simply a process of doing right or wrong. Rather, growth in the moral life is a complex event best exem-plified as an integrative process emanating within the rooted experiences of human living. In the assessment process itself, an exploration of the candidate's past life history is imperative. Equally important, though, is assessing some quality of the candidate's capacity for moral growth. This 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 article argues that optimum moral growth for the candidate is most apt to take place when the following qualities are present: appropriate work-ing through of developmental issues, a realistic and adaptive view of self and others, a caring sensitivity, the capacity for admitting wrong, a healthy sense.of self-esteem, aspiring ideals that are realistic, and reflec-tive reasoning. Though no assessment procedure can accurately predict a candidate's ability to live consistently the moral life, it is well worth the efforts of those involved in the formation process to address every candidate's capacity for moral integrity. An Easter Prayer Love's force is stron.ger than the pull of dark: It can level mountains, raise the dead To a new life, and strengthen weary feet To walk on waters, piled rough waves of night. Its breath can blow the dying coals to light A tunnel black as pitch and radiate The way round pitfalls and sucking s~nds Even to the long, long corridor's end: Chain love's force in tomb with rock-seal tight, Beat it level on Friday's cross and still After three-days He rises above The morning sun in Tabor splendor. See how He moves unhindered through barred doors, All His glory sta.mped on hand and foot and side: Balm to festered sores of Calvary, Now free from binding shroud and fastening nails. Oh, Beacon Light at the end of the sea's corridor, Ointment spice for hurt eyes and wounded hands, Oh, Summoning Bell, buoyant to all our stumbling feet, Help us, Risen Christ, to walk life's dark waters! Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6400 Minnesota Avenue St. Louis, Mo. 63111 Comprehensive Counseling David Altman, O.C.S.O. Father David is a monk of Holy Trinity Abbey; Huntsville, Utah 84317. At one time or another during our lives, individuals will come to usfor the help they think we can give. Whether or not we find ourselves ex-pert in various kinds of problem-solving, we ought to be able to help them identify problems and be able to present recommendations. Perhaps the key to success in relating to and helping others is to see personal relationships as Christian ministry. The people we meet are, of course, Christ himself, in one of his many disguises. They are also our current pastoral assignments, to be met with faith and self-sacrifical love. Upwards of 85% of helping others consists.in listening: listening at-tentively with compassion and understanding. At times we will be called upon to respond, and this must not be done tritely, but intelligently and constructively. The Approach The secret, if there is one, of a good approach to solving personal problems is to meet each person-situation comprehensively, which is to say, completely. This simply means that we have to use a method which will ensure that problems are not permitted to get by undetected. We want to throw out a net, so to say, which will catch and identify all the difficulties from which a person is suffering. A way to do this is to realize that we human beings are basically three-fold in our makeup: we are physical beings, mental-psychologi~:al be-ings, and moral-spiritual beings, Obviously, then, we can have three gen-eral kinds of problems: physical, mental-psychological, and moral-spiritual. 191 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 These categories are not mutually exclusive since they all pertain to one human person in each case. I have found them useful in my own coun-seling experience because they are complete: they are the net from which no problem need escape, provided that each category is kept in mind dur-ing communication with the person who is seeking help. Competency Few of us are competent to handle difficult cases of pathological na-ture. Of course, those with severe illnesses are to be directed to pro-fessionals with the appropriate expertise. Psychotics need psychiatrists or psychologists; seriously sick bodies require medical attention; and mor-ally ill people need men and women who can show them God's healing ways. Because we presumably are these men and women of God, we ought also to have a certain competency in identifying problems in the other two areas of each person: the physical and the psychological. The body-soul unity is the temple of God's Spirit, sharing intimately in the spiri-tual life of each of us. Therefore our desire to, help the suffering Christ in others ought to carry us beyond spiritual and moral interests alone. Though we may not have the professional training by which we can solve a probiem fully, our working knowledge of various problems en-ables us to provide reasons to a person of his (or her) need for another with more expertise. Simply remarking, "You need a doctor" can be a slap in the face for one who is in pain. We should be able to convince another of his need for help, and perhaps even supply a good name for reference. Difficulties One of the greatest difficulties in attempting to solve individual prob-lems in any of the three areas is to give a suffering person What we want instead of what he needs. When a medical doctor sees a patient, the as-sumption is that the patient has a medical problem. Tunnel vision can take over, and physical medicine is all the doctor can see, whereas the patient's main difficulty may be in a quite different area. It is not un-usual for doctors to listen to remarks such as "I'm not feeling well" and respond with great pastoral concern: "Here, let me give you something for your nerves." This is treating the, sympto.m rather than attempting to identify the underlying cause, the root problem. When a person sees a psychologist with a problem, the psychologist will usually presume that the problem lies within the bounds of psycho-logical expertise. This too may not be the case at all. Remember the story Comprehensive Counseling / 193 of the man who went to a psychologist with a physical ailment that was impinging on his nervous system. "I feel terrible," was the complaint. The doctor responded unwaveringly with talk therapy and persevered in missing the mark. There is little sense and even less success realized in forcing one kind of solution on an entirely different kind of problem. Equally futile and costly is the failure to address real problems in favor of their symptoms. Worse still is the failure of the health-care specialist torecognize a ~prob-lem, then write off the patient as a hypochondriac. This is no solution, only an excuse. When religious or priests are approached for counseling, we nor-mally presume, in our turn, that the person is simply looking for a closer relationship with God, and we proceed accordingly and unfortunately. I remember a person coming to see a religious for years, feeling terrible for a great deal of her time. The counselor came across very generously with saccharine exhortations to a deeper relationship with the Lord. The individual responded with nodding smiles as tears of pain continued to roll down her cheeks. The religious was giving what he wanted, not what the person needed. As it was, the individual had developed a severe case of hypogly-cemia, diagnosed laterby a physician. And, as counselors should know, fluctuating blood-sugar levels have very much to do with a person's emo-tional dispositions. As soon as the suffering person said, "I feel terrible," that was the tip-off for aphysicai condition. After all, we can only feel, bodily, through our nervous-system cells. When they are offended, they are go-ing to let us know about it, one way or another, In addition to hypoglycemia and diabetes, people today are subject to stress situations--and with widely varying nutritional needs. Medical science today knows that under these stress conditions the body gobbles up vitamins and minerals to an enormous degree. Since the B vitamins, vitamin C, and calcium predominantly nourish the human nervous sys-tem, a deficiency is going to show up with contributions toward various kinds of problems: mood swings, nervousness, anxiety, anger, irritabil-ity, depression, compulsive sexual problems, insomnia. Any nervous-system- related problem can be caused or made more burdensome by the severely deficient diets that are practiced today throughout our junk-food land. One person complained of not feeling quite herself: irritable, even biting toward others. I learned that she had just recovered from the flu, Review for Religious, March-April 1989 which is just one of the stress factors we experience. I suggested a vita-min- mineral supplement on an as-needed basis, and the problem was cleared up. A third physical difficulty, also masked as spiritual or psychologi-cal, is the problem of intolerances. Pioneer medical research has shown that all kinds of personal difficulties are really the human body's reac-tion to ~,arious environmental factors: food intolerances certainly, but also paints, finishing substances, and other chemicals, even artificial light-ing. PhysiCal problems are the first options to explore in c~unseling. They are the most quantifiable, and perhaps the easiest to identify, if not to solve. Relationships People have trouble with relationships, and each of us has three re-lationships in life: a relationship with God, with others, and with one-self. Problem areas are identified by determining the quality of these three relationships, and there are many tip-off statements that come your way as a~counselor. They come voluntarily to the listening ear, and they can be elicited .by asking the right questions. For example, a counselor can determine the quality of someone's re-lationship with God by asking for details about private and communal prayer-lives and: about fidelity to known moral obligations :in 'marriage and work-commitments. Listening to descriptions of interpersonal rela-tionships can reveal much. On one occasion I heard, "They're pickin' on me." This could be true, or it could be a defense. In this particular case, "they" were not the problem. I was talking to the problem. We all enjoy the forbidden luxury of finger-pointing, but we should be mos'e aware that whatever we do, whatever~we say, whatever we wil.l-fully think, we are always saying something about ourselves. We behave out of what we are. Often individuals will present their relational difficulties in terms of an impossible situation with absolutely no way out. The answer is the awareness of the great difference between a real relational situation, and the particular way it is described. Simply reframe the problematic situ- ¯ ation. Discard the impossible description, redescribing the circumstances yourself, so as to provide as many solutions as you can. This takes imagi-nation, and first attempts will result in grasping at straws. But hold on to the straws, as they lead to stronger, more promising answers. It should also be clear that principles of good counseling are appli-cable not only to others,,but also to ourselves. In this connection there Comprehensive Counseling / 195 is a check on the judgments we must make in order to help others: the golden rule, the virtue of empathy, placing oneself in the other's shoes. These principles demand questions such as: Would I follow this advice myself? How would I feel were this advice given to me? Would I bene-fit from the behavior I am planning to recommend? The measure of the quality of any relationship--with God, others, or oneself--is the answer to this question: How does the individual han-dle conflict? We are all fair-weather friends of God, of others, especially of ourselves. But the true measure of a person's strength of character and personal integration is how one stands up in adversity. Do we respond to challenges with virtue and resultant, growth, or with vice and rebel-lion in its many forms? : We cannot give what we do not have; we can only give what we have, so the personal problems we carry around are going to show up in relationships with others. Do they handle re!ational conflicts with at-tempts at reconciliation and peace, or are they inclined to antagonism, revenge, and consequent alienation? Vices In the course of counseling experience, we come across the problem of evil: evil circumstances, evil behavior. We are all sinners before God, and before each other, a fact which ought never to be discounted in problematic relationships. We meet people who sin against God, against others, against them-selves. One of the best favors we can do for them is to help them admit and own their own evil. It is a mistake to try to identify every problem medically or psychologically. Wrongdoing must be identified, owned, and corrected. We are admittedly honest and generous in assigning praise for vir-tue and for any good act; we must be just as honest in recognizing and assigning vice (evil habits)and sinful acts. How we speak about this to others is important, but the honesty must be there, because the only way to solve a problem is to' face it. The love of Christ is a challenging love, because it is only through challenges that people grow. We must often challenge others' behavior, challenge their sin, challenge our own sin. It is these challenges which are the cross-experiences of our lives and the meaning of suffering. We grow through challenges into the strength of character that we need, to live life well, and to die well. These challenges or crosses hurt, because growing pains always do hurt. But the rewards are well worth the perse-vering effort. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 After the apparently innocuous complaint "My life seems to have no direction or purpose," aofew questions were able to uncover a some-what profligate sex life, little or no prayer, and a difficult family back~ ground. Well, we are all products of our background, but we never need be slaves of our backgrounds: Psychotherapy can be of great healing bene-fit; so can a humble confession of guilt with attendant petitions for for-giveness and :mercy; so can the healing power of prayer: holding up bad memories in prayer, exposing them to divine remedies. Whatever difficulties we:have had to endure, they tend to force upon us burdens and pressures which are often channeled compulsively as they please. Kn~owing that our two main emotion-vices are anger and lust, we see that compulsions can spell big trouble. As a result~ people gravitate toward giving up dominion over their own beings:~They become slaves of various emotions and habits. Indi-viduals abdicate the kingship or queenship of their beings in favor of an-ger, lust, drive for power, vain ambitiow, money, prestige, or another person. Taking steps to become one's own man, one's own woman, elimi-nates this slavery, and the first and most important step is fidelity to God ~nd his laws governing human living. This is i'eal love, which will in-variably be returned in greater measure, because w'e love a God who will not be outdone in generosity. Conclusion This contribution has also been called comprehensive because it is only an overview. There is no substitutefor common sense in counsel: ing, and no substitute for prayer. The Jesus Prayer o~: another prayer,of aspiration before, during, .and after the counseling session deepens the session in God, exposing both parties to divine healing power and spe-cial graces. We are ourselves healed as we heal others, because with our love, our desire to give.God to others,' we find that the same generous God gives to us in response to our needs. We offer the gift of our lives to the suffering Jesus in others,', and he returns this gift with his own life and gifts: the graces we need to accomplish our healing task well, and the grace to grow through our own physical, psychological, and moral prob-lems into the personal sanctity ordained for us. The Power of Romantic Love William F. Kraft, Ph.D. William Kraft, Ph.D., is well known to our readers. Dr. Kraft is on the faculty of th~ Psychology Department of Carlow College where he may be addressed: 3333 Fifth Avenue; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15213. ~1 don't know what's gotten into me, but I do know that I'vemever felt like this. I never thought I could feel so alive, so open, so good. Since becoming friends with Sarah, I feel more confident; it's as though prob-lems don't bother me like they used to. I function better, I'm more open, and life just seems to finally make more sense. Especially when I'm with Sarah, I feel light, energetic,optimistic. It's as if almost anything is pos-sible. "Some sisters label our relationship as exclusive, or God forbid: par-ticular. In some ways, I guess it is. I know I can hardly wait to see her, to spend the weekend with her, to go on vacation with her. And some-times, I think I yearn too much to be with her. And yet, how could some-thing as wonderful and good be bad? True: sometimes we get a bit too physical, but never genital. We really strive to be chaste, but it's diffi-cult at times. I would like to be more physical, to give all, but I know that would be going out of bounds. "Before my friendship with Sarah, I was sort of happy. I was a good teacher and got along okay in the community. But ! always had the feel-ing that I was missing something important, that life should be more than getting by or maintaining the status quo. And I was always kind of shy or constricted. It was as if I had all these flashing red and yellow lights in my mind, and now there are more green lights." This sister has fallen romantically in love--one of our most invigo-rating and seductive modes of love. She has been lured into and is en- 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 joying the experience where almost anything seems possible and almost nothing seems impossible. Feeling more courage and confidence, old problems seemed to have changed and new possibilities have emerged. And her friend seems to be the center of her life, the source of her new vision and strength. Her life is so much more alive than her relatively constricted past. Understandably, she wants more of this new life. Such is romantic love. Listen to this male religious. "Something incredible happened to me this summer. While finishing my master's degree, I fell in love. I met. Carol, and my life changed. It wasn't as if I had a game plan; it wasn't even on my mind. It just happened. "It's great. I've never been so open in my life, especially with a woman. I share everything, and it feels so good. We hold nothing back, and we seem to know what each other is thinking and feeling without even saying anything. It's magic. She's on my mind and in my heart all the time, and I can't wait to see her or at least call her. Thank God she lives in the same city. When we are together, time goes so quickly. A few hours seem like a few minutes. "I think others would say that I've been a good religious. I've done well in my ministry and have gotten along in my community. I am grate-ful to my fellow brothers and priests. So it is difficult to think about leav-ing the religious life, and neither is it an easy question for Carol. We love each other very much, but we also love the religious life. And it has been good to us. "When you asked me what is wrong with Carol, I was stumped. I know she is not perfect, but I don't see or feel anything wrong with her. And I feel so much better myself. I'll take your advice to wait until life settles, and not make a hasty decision that would change my entire life. True, I have known Carol for only four months, but it seems like I have known her all my life. "Why shouldn't I leave. True, it would be difficult to find a good job, and family life would certainly be different. But I could still do much of what I do now, and I feel that being married to Carol, I could even be closer to God. I will, with the help of you, my friends, and God discern my experience. But why would God give me such a beautiful gift and then expect me to reject it?" Indeed, romantic love is wonderful. Although this man has been a very rational, successful, and good community religious, he finds him-self in a serious dilemma: to leave or stay in religious life. His past has been good to him, and he to it, but his future seems to offer an even bet- The Power of Romantic Love / 199 ter life. Being immersed in the magic of love, he feels strongly drawn to this land of apparently unlimited possibilities. Both of these religious are enjoying and being inspired and chal-lenged by romantic love. Their love consumes them, embracing all their senses, mind, and spirit. Radically new horizons of meaning have opened up, pressuring them to restructure their lives. What should they do? In this article I will discuss the nature and dynamics of romantic love, its positive and negative possibilities and consequences in religious life, and ways to cope with oneself and others in service of healthy and holy growth. The Nature and Dynamics of Romantic Love Romantic love lures us into a world where there is nothing dull and mundane, a world that promises a new and better life. It offers us an ex-hilarating and inspiring unity of feeling intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. To experience transcendence passionately can be awe-fully seductive. Romantic love offers us an exhilarating and inspiring unity of feel-ing intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. As romantic lovers we yearn to be with each other, constantly think about and feel for each other, and so it seems touch each other even when we are physi, cally absent. Being without each other, we feel an intense void as well as presence in absence, and being with each other brings warmth, secu-rity, and fulfillment along with this sensuous enrapture. We initially ide-alize each other, feeling that we can do and share anything, and be our most perfect selves. We feel what love can be without its limits, and we want to give, to be,and to receive all that is possible. There is a special magic--a passionate affair with the ideal, an experience of heaven. What happens when we fall romantically in love? Initially we prob-ably feel as though we are walking on clouds, and that everything is pos-sible. We experience each other in terms of perfection, while our imper-fections are denied, minimized or rationalized. We may feel thatwe want to live together, to capture this love forever. This romantic time is one of the most exciting, pleasurable, and satisfying experiences. In the in-itial stages of friendship we may experience new possibilities in testing our limits, risking our vulnerability, feeling more alive than ever before, and willing to do almost anything. We may feel that everything is possi-ble and all right, and that life is radiantly alive. Our romantic friendship usually inspires us to become our best selves, and often new energy and courage provide the way. We can have romantic experiences in solitude. For instance, we may 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 intensely feel the spiritual possibilities of contemplation. We may expe-rience a world of meaning that is transcendent and permanent. To ask ultimate questions and to be confronted with mysterious issues can be a peak experience. T° hear silent music can include the romantic. Romantic lovers--religious, single, or married--initially experience the unlimited potential of each other and concretely celebrate each other's perfection. However, paradise does not last; our romantic time is usually followed by one of imperfection. Sometimes suddenly, instead of experiencing each other as unlimited, we intensely experience our limi-tations. We find ourselves criticizing, obsessed with the other's imper-fections, or perhaps withdrawing from each other. Think of a sister and priest (or lay couple) who fall in love and get married. At first, they radiate with love and cannot stand to be without each other. But sooner than later they begin to test and question their love, and at times cannot stand to be with each other. Instead of diviniz-ing each other, they now demonize each other. For instance, minor hab-its may become irritating. One squeezes the tooth paste from the middle and the other from the ind. His snoring upsets her, while her hair curl-ers upset him. More seriously, she becomes frustrated and angry because he no longer shows his feelings as he apparently once did. He becomes confused and angry with constant complaining about his overworking and in general his unavailability. Whatever the focus of criticism, they focus on eacffother's limits, as contrasted with their past when they en-joyed their unlimitedness. Instead of heavenly, being with each other feels more hellish. Their magic has disappeared. Consider a novice who experiences religious life as a perfect way of living. Particularly in early formation when there is considerable personal affirmation, exploration, and direction, religious life offers extraordinary opportunities for individual and communal growth. However, "reentry problems" may be experienced when a new religious moves from the no-vitiate to living in an ordinary community. Community living seems rnuch~different than it was in the novitiate, or how it was ideally de-scribed. The inevitable imperfection of living with others may feel more like a burden than a joy. A danger is to identify religious life (or any life form or person) with its perfections and possibilities, or with its limits and obstacles to growth. Like any personal (and professional) life, there are more or less problems and opportunities. Positive and Negative Seduction As its etymology indicates, seduction conveys a negative meaning, namely, some thing, activity, or person that leads us astray or into The Power of Romantic Love / 201 trouble. And indeed, this can be the case. However, seduction can also have positive meaning in luring us to a better life. One reason romantic love is important is that it can be a prelude and invitation to a more committed love. Its strong attraction, gentle excite-ment, and erotic idealism make it easier, more enjoyable, and exciting for us to enter love. Since love, especially intimate love, is a risky ven-ture, romantic love makes the entry into love relatively easier, safer, and moi'e fun. It is a delicious taste of heaven. But like food, its satisfaction is temporary, and if we eat too much of that elixir, we can get sick. Ro-mantic love is an intense promise of a more permanent love that is both ideal and limited, erotic and transcendent, for the moment and forever, pleasurable and painful, divine and demonic--a love that embraces and dignifies all of us. If some of us knew the total picture of religious life, especially its hard times, before entering religious life, we may have had second or third thoughts about making a life commitment. Strictly from a rational-istic view, religious life may not have been as appealing. Fortunately our Holy Spirit called us with an alluring voice. Likewise, some of our friend-ships may never have occurred without romantic love's promise of an even .more balanced, wholly, and permanent love. To be sure, not all men and women entered religious life or friendship in a romantic aura. But many did, and few people live without any romanticism. Our spiritual journey with and toward God can also include romantic times. It is not unusual to go through a time--or times--of being roman-tically in love with God. We may suddenly feel that anything is possi-ble, that everything will turn out all right, that everything makes sense. We may bask in a divine light while minimizing, forgetting, or even re-pressing darkness. Although there is much truth in the vision, dark nights will come in service of a deeper and more realistic presence to God. Romantic love is not only a means toward an end. When immersed in romantic love, it is good to celebrate and proclaim our romantic stand in the world. Our experience is a witness to love and often promotes hap-piness for others. We can also build a precious source of memories that can help us gain perspective when going through difficult times. And in-deed as authentic lovers we can, though not constantly, congistently cele-brate times of romantic love. Helping Oneself and Others Think of two religious who care for each other and become close friends. Initially, they may idealize their relationship so that it is basi-cally exclusive. At first, they may wonder how they ever li.ved without 202 /Review for Religious, March-April 1989 each other. Especially if one or both persons have had restricted feelings of affection, now they can feel free to express themselves without re-straint. They feel liberated and more wholly alive. Their "particular" friendship, however, soon incorporates limits and obstacles. For in-stance, they discover that they can irritate and confuse each other, and :they can become hurt, angry, jealous, and perhaps guilty and ashamed. Instead of harboring resentment, or ending the friendship, both persons can step back--physically, psychosocially, and spiritually--and listen to themselves and each other, and hopefully return to renew and deepen their friendship so that it includes both their positive and negative dimen-sions. The challenging ideal is that both the light and dark sides of life be integrated, rather than absolutizing one of them. In fact, these experi-ences point to and affirm what life is--both divine and demonic, light and dark, life and death. When we experience a person as perfect, it is helpful to keep in mind that every person is imperfect. When there are disagreements, past agreements can be remembered as well as agreeing. to disagree. Our challenge is to see potential virtue where there is vice, strength where there is weakness, joy where there is sadness, love where there is hate, life where there is death. Courage and commitment are needed to move with and grow from life's paradoxical rhythm. Although romantic love is particularly enjoyable, the genuine desire to give one's self totally to another p~'esents challenging difficulties. Be-cause of the affective and ideal qualities of romantic love, we may nei-ther want nor perhaps experience any limits, and consequently may yearn to give unconditionally in every way pogsible. As religious we may yearn to celebrate our love in genital experiences, but we can say "no" in serv-ice of a "yes" to our love. What can superiors, friends, or other community members do when they observe religious in romantic love. Particularly when the exclusivity is causing little community I~arm, the wisest approach may be to do noth-ing, that is, to let romantic love run its course from the divine to the de-monic. However, when infatuation occurs or the dark, limited phase ap-pears, interveution may be called for. What you d6 depends on the kind and amount of power and responsibility your superior and others in re-sponsible roles have, as well as what you are willing and able to do, par-ticularly in being willing and able to invest the time and energy on con-fronting, processing, and following through with consequences. A superior may choose to confront a priest with his infatuous friend-ship. Confrontation means to state assertively and with concern what you The Power of Romantic Love / 203. observe in the other's behavior. It does not mean to interpret or analyze a person's behavior, nor does it include verbal oppression or emotional rape. We give feedback, and depending on our authority, we state natu-ral and logical consequences of one's behavior. For instance, if you con-tinue to date this woman as well as isolate yourself from the community, then counseling must be pursued or you will be transferred to another city, or you will be asked/told to leave. It is important to remember that although we impact on one another more or less positively and negatively, we cannot change anyone. We can give others opportunities, feedback, advice, consequences, and so forth, but only they can change themselves. We can only change and con-trol ourselves, and this is accomplished within varying degrees of lim-its. Authoritarian, codependent, and other well-intentioned and overly responsible people may find this fact difficult to accept. Ideally, a radical decision (for example, leaving religious life) or a life commitment (for example, vowed religious life) should not be made in either the so-called divine or demonic phases of love. When we are madly in love and experience no imperfections whatsoever, a life com-mitment is precarious. And we should be equally as prudent about mak-ing radical decisions, those that significantly irnpact on our lives, while in a demonic phase. When life is overwhelmingly dark, any light or re-lief can be tempting. It is better to wait until light emerges in our pre-sent situation--to wait until we make more sense of our struggle and be freer to choose. To paraphrase an old saying: the darkest and coldest time is right before dawn. Ideally, we should also not make a decision for life only out of ro-manticism or infatuation--when there are no limits or imperfections, but rather when we can be open to both the positive and negative factors of our past, present, and future situations. For instance, a brother who falls in love with a sister may be in the divinizing stage of romantic love. When asked what is wrong with his beloved, he may say nothing con-crete. Until he can point out experientially what is positive and negative about her and himself, it is probably better for him to wait before mak-ing such a radical decision such as leaving religious life to get married. A decision to leave, not because of romantic involvement, but be-cause nothing seems right and satisfying is quite tempting. When under enormous stress, we can be duped into feeling that a change in lifestyle will solve personal and interpersonal problems. It is more likely that we will take our problems with us and unconsciously seek a similar situ-ation. It is wiser to look at and deal with the dark side in ourselves and 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 then make decisions. In short, authentic committed love is never perfect or divine, and nei-ther is it always imperfect or demonic. It is a combination of both. When on earth, life and love are matters of heaven and hell. If authentic love were perfect, commitment would not be necessary, there would be heaven, not earth. Because we are a unity of perfection and imperfec-tion, commitment is called for. Seed I .know interpretation has rules, But they should not freeze mystery. Why can't metaphors step between parables, And people and plots mingle? The sower, for instance, and the birds on the wayside who fed, the birds Who never fall unknown any more Than the bum thrown out of the bar And the starving, potbellied African baby. How wide is the wayside'? Past oceans And deserts and ranges and space to Ultimate doing of truth in love? And the rocks (poor Peter), are they always shallow? Have you seen those rock walls on roads Where, in spite of technology, a stubborn Wild shoot adorns the crazy face of An impossible height? or the sturdy Root that splits concrete apart and Frees the seed of a water main (prodigal spill)? Then There's the child who patiently pulls the Tufts from the cracks between bricks And scatters the clumps for the wind To sow next season's crop and chore. But the thistles--I don't know about them. I cringe at the vision of crowns And wonder if scarlet hands too Can drip the seeds of the realm That the sower went out to sow. Clarita Felhoelter, O.S.U. 3105 Lexington Road Louisville, Kentucky 4020'6 The Experience of Mid-Life Divorce and AlienationI David J. Hassel, S.J. Father David Hassel, S.J., is currently Research Professor of Philosophy at Loyola University of Chicago. The contents of this article will be part of his forthcoming book called The Ache of Alienation. His address is Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois 60626, Helen,s husband had confronted her a year ago after a very quiet dinner. "Helen," he had said, "there is something we have to talk about in the living room while the kids are out." They had sat there through a long silence before he said in a rush of words: "I want a divorce; I cannot go on living as we have been--distant, on parallel courses, never really meeting. The kids already suspect something and are old enough to han-dle this now. I've made a decision and no talking will change it. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I've already done. My lawyer has drawn up the legal papers; you'll be taken care of financially." Helen, her voice sounding like cracking ice, had said to him: "Joe, it's Anita, isn't it. That day down at the office I saw the glance you gave her--like the one you had once given me." "Yes," he said, "but we are not going into that." Helen could recall herself slowly getting up, slowly going up the stairs to her room, throwing herself on the bed and beginning to shudder with great dry heaves. No tears, only a terrible emp-tiness. When during the course of the following weeks, she had been alone with each of the children, she had received some additional shocks. Jim, the twenty-two year old just finishing college, put it simply: "Look, Mom, where have you been the past two years? Dad has been home less and less, and telling less and less what he has been doing. What have 205 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 you been thinking?" The twins, Edith and Carol, high school seniors, were rather casual: "Morn, this is the way things go these days; you have to be ready for the worst and this is the worst, no doubt about it." Timothy, the twelve-year old, was inconsolable: "Dad's leaving us be-hind and it's unfair; I hate him now. But what can we do? I guess we just get used to it the way Jerry Kanz did when his Dad moved out." Helen, like many another to-be-divorced woman, had looked back over her life and wondered bitterly: Where did it start to go wrong? Where did I fail? Except for Timmy, the children seemed so casual about it all. Were they simply ungrateful, without any affection for her and Joe or were they covering up their anger and disappointment? Her telephone call to her mother had caused a flood of tears and a scalding anger-- more at Helen's stupidity than at Joe's two-timing. Her favorite brother had only said, "Well, the bastard finally owned upto it, did he?" Women friends had been properly shocked and consoling for some weeks; then the telephone calls became less frequent and one friend fi-nally said to her: "Honey, you have to stop lamenting and get your life together--without Joe; the sooner the better." All her doings had be-come meaningless: cooking meals, house-cleaning, shopping, bridge-clubbing, fulfilling the immediate needs of her children, attending Mass, telephoning friends, volunteering at the hospital, watching TV late into the night. Then the depressing guilt-fits began. Why were her children so un-feeling unless she had failed badly in their upbringing? Why had she not noticed sooner her husband's wandering and done something to woo him back? Had she become an insensitive creature herself? Were all her friend-ships superficial, revealing her own lack of depth? Was all her busyness merely a way to hide from herself who she really was: an empty shell of a woman? How could even God find time for her anymore? Actually her past seemed gutted, her present confused and her future dark with anxiety. The Woman Religious' Parallel Experience of "Divorce" Helen's experience, in one form or another, is that of thousands of wives and mothers as divorces continue to multiply across America. But is it so very different from the experience of not a few women religious who at mid-life review the past ten or twenty years of their own lives and wonder where their prayer-union with Christ has gone? The woman religious has been living the regular routines of a life consecrated to Christ: spending some time with him before breakfast and before heading to bed; taking care of his people in hospital, school, day- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation care center, parish, and social work office; making some friends along the, way; watching TV and going for occasional walks; attending family gatherings, and centering her life in daily Eucharists. But in everything she feels hardly any feedback of gratitude or joy. If she is a social worker, she may have been called a meddler by the fam-ily whose children she has seen through hospitals, remedial reading courses, and angry bouts with their parents. The high school teacher of twenty-five years' experience may have been told by a lay colleague that she is twenty years behind the times in her teaching techniques and thirty years behind in her understanding of today's high schoolers. The sister-nurse may be overwhelmed with the ugly fact that her order's hospitals are now big business and that she had better play it safe with charity cases lest the hospital's budget-report show red ink. An almost exhausted sister may be informed by her superior that if she cannot take this job of religious coordinator at the disorganized St. Dismas parish, she had better find another job.to earn her way. Meaning seems to have drained out of her work. The once beautiful routines connected with teaching, nursing, administrating, catechizing, parish organizing, and social work-ing feel drab, spiritless, and unending. Meanwhile, because of her busy dedication to her order and its works, she has allowed her own brothers and sisters to fade out of her life as they moved to the distant coasts and as she wrote less and less ¯ often. Her parents have become elder.ly, somewhat absent-minded, eager for her presence but hardly able to carry on a relaxing conversation, and evoking melancholy in her at their decline and helplessness. Her sister-friends are as busy as she; glad to see her and to chat for a time, but al-ways on the move to another appointment: little time for long leisurely conversations, not many fun times." Because she is one of the few younger sisters in tier older community, she may have to assume greater responsibilities without any contemporary nearby in whom to confide and with whom to laugh at life's crazy antics. This is a new aloneness never felt in her initial formation. The simple joys of life seem few and far between during these periods of intensely felt alienation. She wonders: is all my past life for nothing? Have I lost the respect of my own family; those who first gave me life and hope? Have I missed out on community life? Or did it never exist and I pretended, that it did? Why has my ministry lost its zest? Have I begun to give up on it and, if so, will I ever find a second ministry and trust myself to its demands for a disciplined life of sacrifice? Do my superiors and fellow religious value me for myself or only for what I can do? Are we all just worker- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 bees in the religious hive? Where is the reality of my prayer life? God seems so distant, so uninterested in me, so unlike the intimate friend of my early religious life. Around me I seem to find so many happy fami-lies and fulfilled career women. Or am I just romanticizing their lives out of my own drabness? Then begin the guilt-fits. Mow did my life dissipate into merely con-stant duties, deadlines, hurried moments of leisure with friends, commu-nity tensions, and superficial moments with Christ? How could I have ¯ let it happen? Does all this mean that I never had a vocation to religious life or that religious life in my particular group is now ,antiquated and no longer viable in ou~ present culture? What is my future--if anything? Who but a recently divorced iaywoman could Fully appreciate these questions and feelings 0f the woman religious. The divorced man, hear-ing a man,religious venice similar questions and feelings, would surely resonate to these pains of the heart and mind. The Feel of Alienation from the Church Among the Divorced and the Alienated The suffering asked of divorced men and women and of alienated re-ligious is scandalous not only to them but to the people who love them dearly. The shock felt by the "divorced" is such that at times they do feel isolated from their family (blood or religious) and perhaps even from Christ's Church. Their great temptation is to cut loose from past ties; to be free from all the b~aggage of the past~ They ask themselves: "Why not just leave the family or the religious order and forget any service of the Church?" It seems so much easier simply to concentrate on a career and, if the occasion offers, to form a small manageable group of new friends. Later some of these "divorced" will leave the Church deliber-ately and others will slowly drift away complaining: "'I'm tiredof fight-ing Church bureaucracy and small-mindedness." There is no denying that, in the twentieth-century Church, the petty pride of place, the drift towards disorder, the trickery practiced in the name of the kingdom, the mechanical use of the sacraments, the eloquent extolling of poverty by comfortable clerics, andthe depreciation of women's ministry are all very much alive. In fact, Christ found them quite active in his first century Church: the women's announcement that they had met the risen Christ was called "women's gossip"; John and James used their mother to agitate for their occupying the seats of power next to Christ; Paul had to confront Peter about using different standards for Jewish and gentile converts; Jerusalem converts tried to saddle all gen-tile converts with the hea~y apparatus of Judaic Law; Ananias and Sa- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation / 209 phira embezzled the common holdings of the Christian community; some of the apostles, notably Judas, deplored Mary Magdalen's ministry to Christ as frivolous. This is the kingdom, God's people, as Christ de-scribed them in the parables where the net is thrown into the sea to haul in both good and bad fish or where the wheat field is sown with weeds by the enemy. The problem is not that scandal is always in the Church but that faith-fulness is needed to live through the scandalous events amid feelings of alienation. Men and women religious suffering alienation from their com-munities need to share their lives with divorced laymen and laywomen if they are all to remain faithful to the Church and to their families, lay and religious. The pooling of experience, the companioning in common sorrows, the cooperative attempt to let the Church know their agony, the working together to build better futures for each other and for the Church, enable the divorced lay people to take heart and the alienated religious to remain loyal. One woman religious who has been offering a program for divorced women in her motherhouse found that the prayers of the retired sisters gave solace to the divorced women, while the faith of the divorced women amid severe mental suffering proved encouraging to elderly sis-ters, some of whoin felt~ intensely their seeming uselessness to the world and to their Church. One of the divorced women approached this woman religious directing the program and said to her: "Were you divorced be-fore you entered religious life? You seem to read us so well." Aloud the sister said: "No, I've never b~een married," but whispered inside her-self "But I have experienced divorce--from my congregation." Recently women and men religious groups have been welcoming some divorced into their communities and finding that these women and men bring in a dimension of life much needed by the religious order. The divorced woman or man has gone through devastating bereavement from all that once gave meaning t,o her or his life. Through this stripping, they have rediscovered their own personal worth, having learned how to dis-tinguish life-roles (mother or father, wife or husband, secretary or car-penter, daughter or son, sister or brother) from their own selves which play out these roles. The divorced woman, for example, no longer de-fines herself merely by what she can do, but by what she can be--first in herself and then for others. This, of course, affects her relationship with Christ. She is devoted to him, first of all, for his own sake; and she expects his affection to be directed towards her for herself and not sim-ply for her accomplishments. Neither God nor herself is made out to be 210 / Review for Religious~ March-April 1989 an heroic workaholic. Such a mature attitude can be benevolently conta-gious. On the other hand, women and men religious have something to of-fer divorced laywomen and laymen. After all many religious have had to deal with the mid-life transition.2 They have come to see that the "yes-terdays outnumber the tomorrows" and that they have to trim their ap-ostolic sails accordingly. Their eqergy is less, their talents are not quite as rich as they first thought, they must drop some projects totally, oth-ers partially, in order to do the central works. At this point envy of the younger, the more energetic, and the more talented can creep in. Amid these tensions, one becomes more aware of personal shortcomings, pre-tenses, sins of revenge .and cattiness, and suddenly vehement sex-drives. This discouraging aspect of life is often allied with a sense of being enmeshed in a great bureaucratic machine (at the job or in the congrega-tion o~in work with the local government) with which one must battle for personal values without destroying oneself or the organization. At this same t~me friendships take on greater importance and one must re-order one's commitments to people, work, and God. Here the man and woman religious~face bereavement from parents and older friends who die. They have moved away from pet projects, from. former work that gave much satisfaction, and from favorite attitudes or ideas that no longer fit the times.' Death, including their own,.seems at times to totally sur-round them. But at the same time, if the man and woman religious can ride all these waves with some gratitude and graciousness, the slower pace al-lows them to have time for more care of others. A warm Wisdom, the fruit of keeping a sense of humor amid much suffering, can pervade their every day. A new stability may take shape at the center of their being. In their lasting friendships, they may rediscover their faithful God. And all this they can offer to divorced laymen and laywomen out of the very alienations which they had felt towards their own congregations. How bountiful the divorced lay people and alienated religious can be towards each other and thus towards the people of God--even though at times they feel so utterly empty and find themselves walking laboriously as though in desert sands. This desert experience has been chronicled and deserves our attention since out of it can come a conversion which will reveal a new self, a new God, and a new world. The Desert Experience of Transition Before Conversion Two women have given us brutally honest yet sensitive accounts of Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation their transitions from one congregation to another. The great change seemed to them like a lay person's divorce and remarriage with its awk-wardness, periods of loneliness, and rediscovery of self and life.3 Sr. Marie Conn found the loneliness of transfer to a new religious commu-nityunique in its roots and in its intensity. For she left behind a vibrantly rich past with only a vague future in mind. Besides, those with whom she would live her present and future had little idea of her past and she, of their past. When one starts all over with new and slowly developing friendships, with fresh routines, and with no one able to enter into one's more precious memories, one is thrust into a new relati

Issue 42.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1983. ; Rt vtFw I-or Rvt IGIOU~, (ISSN 0034-639XL published every two months ~s edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St Lout,, Umverslty The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOtJS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Instltute of the Society of Jesus. St. I.ouis. MO. © 1983 by REVIEW FoR REI.IGtOtJS, Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW VOll RELIC, IOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Jan./Feb., 1983 Volume 42 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGtOt~S; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVtE'W EOR RELtGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious Volume 42, 1983 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1983 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Signs of Hope in Religious Life Today Stephen Tutas, S.M. Father Tutas has been Superior General'of the Marianists. and is now assigned to their forma-tion center in California. The September-October, 1982 issue carried "Preparing for the 1983 Synod." Father Tutas resides at the Marianist Formation Center. 22622 Marianist Way: Cuper-tino, CA 95014. One of the most important contributions religious women and men can make to the Church in any era is to be signs of hope, encouraging others in their own response to Gold's call by a witness of joyful dedication. This call to religious to be signs of hope is as urgent today as in any other time in the history of the Church. The preparatory document for the 1983 Synod of Bishops states that "the dominant characteristic of our era s~ems to have become that of tensions and divisions., situations of incomprehen~ion, of estrangement, of conflict, of schism, of reciprocal condemnation . " In response to this, 1 believe it is absolutely necessary that we religious today strive to be outstanding men and women of hope. We must really believe--and show our belief--that the Holy Spirit is active in the Church today, and that this active presence of the Spirit is the basis for our hope. Points of Convergence For some time now, ! have been especially sensitive to the signs of hope found in religious life. I was privileged to see some of these signs of hope as 1 met with other superiors general of both men and women religious congrega-tions. The various formal and informal meetings in Rome and elsewhere were for me inspiring moments when we were able to share with each other what we experienced in our visits to communities. It was very heartening for me to see how many points of convergence there were as we discussed the main themes of religious life and were able to refer to so many encouraging examples of 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 what was actually being realized on a day-by-day basis in religious communi-ties throughout the world. My personal experience included contact with communities of the Society of Mary (Marianists) in thirty one countries on all the continents. As I found in my exchange of views with others, my experience reflected well the general thrusts in religious life as 1 came to identify these through visits and reports. Obviously, not all that I experience is positive and encouraging. I am painfully aware of the inadequacies in my own life and in the lives of others. It ,is always true that the Church "is at the same time holy and always in need of being purified."~ But while recognizing our failures as religious, I believe it is much more life-giving to look at the signs of hope so evident in the lives of many religious women and men and build on these so that together with other members of the Church we can move forward to the third millennium in a spirit of hope. I often pray in the words of Pope Paul VI that "the world of our time, which is searching, sometimes with anguish, sometimes with hope, be enabled to receive the Good News not from evangelizers who are dejected, discouraged, impatient or anxious, but from ministers of the gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ, and who are willing to risk their lives so that the kingdom may be proclaimed and the church established in the midst of the world."~ After completing my terms of service as Superior General, 1 was privileged to have several months to devote to prayer and reflection before taking up my new assignment as Director of the Marianist Formation Center in Cupertino, California. Most of this time of prayer and reflection was spent in the Mother-house of the Dallas Province of the School Sisters of Notre Dame in Irving, Texas, where I served as chaplain under ideal conditions that made it easy for me to look back with gratitude and to look forward with hope, while sharing my experience of gratitude and hope with the community as I tried to live fully in the present. Now that 1 have taken up my new life and work in California, With the specific responsibility to promote continuing formation in the Marianist Prov-ince of the Pacific, I would like to share with the readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a gummary of the signs of hope that I see in religious life today. Ten Signs of Hope I have selected ten signs of hope that I find particularly striking. It is evident that these signs do not exist everywhere. And where they do exist, the signs .vary in clarity and intensity. But these signs do exist, and my daily prayer is that they become ever stronger and more general throughout the Church, I hope the readers of this article will find in the list a confirmation of their own experience, and a further encouragement to continue working to make these signs ever more clear and ever more general. 1. A strong commitment to ongoing renewal, emphasizing: - personal and communitarian prayer, making union with God clearly the Signs of Hope in Religious Life Toda.v / 5 basis for religious life: - the building of community, recognizing this bonding in view of a shared ideal as the sign of being a true follower of Christ; - the concern for a greater simplicity of life: - the positive understanding of celibacy as a way of loving rather than as a simple renunciation of marriage and of family. These four points constitute a truly radical change in religious life which is often unnoticed as we ourselves go through it. It is not that the value of prayer, community, simplicity and celibacy were lacking in the past, but that we have been able to give new expression to these values in a changing world. I have selected these four characteristics of renewal as being the most life-giving. First and foremost, of course, m,ust be the contemplative dimension of religious life. I find it significant that the "Conclusive Document"just issued by the Vatican as a follow-up to the 1981 International Congress of Bishops and Others Responsible for Ecclesiastical Vocations declares, in speaking of religious states, that "the contemplative dimension is the true secret of spiritual renewal and apostolic fruitfulness in religious life.'~ All renewal programs begin with this contemplative dimension. Efforts are also being made to emphasize community as a sharing of faith: faith is given expression in a concern for simplicity of life: the commu~ nity of faith is always being urged to look beyond itself. These are outstanding fea-tures of various renewal programs. Perhaps never before in the history of religious life has so much attention been given to providing assistance for continuing formation. This itself is certainly a great sign of hope. 2. A rediscovery of the relevance of the founding charism, along with a renewed interest in the person of the founder or foundress, and also a renewed understanding that the founding charism is just as important for the Church of our time as it was at the time of the actual foundation of the community. The document, "Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious," is an important encouragement for us religious to renew the offering of our cha-risms to the local church, and this with a renewed awareness that we are needed and wanted for the specific gifts God has entrusted to the various religious families in the Church. General chapters, especially in writingconstitutions in response to the Second Vatican Council, have expressed very forcefully how the founding charism is able to meet the urgent needs of the Church in our time. 3. New directions in evangelization, in continued response to that great docu-ment of Pope Paul VI, Evangelization in the Modern World, which followed the 1974 Synod of Bishops on Evangelization. 1 found it very rewarding to read Archbishop Robert Sanchez' address to his .fellow bishops at Collegeville last summer in which he gave heavy emphasis to the dynamic orientations implicit in Pope Paul's statement, saying that "it 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 would be difficult to exaggerate the importance that this document will have in revitalizing and prephring the Church for the future . -4 For us religious, this Apostolic Exhortation has sparked and encouraged a gratifying transition from concern about ourselves--even about our survival-- to a greater sense of mission and outreach. 4. The greater insertion of religious corhmunities in the local church and a more ecclesial thrust in solidarity with other religiotls and in collaboration with all others in the local church. As we look back over the past twenty-five years we can appreciate what dramatic changes have taken place in terms of greater collaboration among religious themselves, but also in terms of the active involvement of religious in the life and structures of the local church. The Unions of Superiors General and the national conferences of superiors have provided excellent leadership in this regard. At the same time, more and more bishops are recognizing the unique contribution religious communities can make to the life of the local church. Here, as with the other signs of hope, much needs to be done, but the first step in making this sign clearer and more general is to acknowledge the great strides that have already been realized. 5. The increasing concern for the promotion of justice and peace. 1 am temp~ed to write more extensively aboiat this sign than any other because, as President of the USG Commission Justice and Peace during most of my years as Super-ior General, I was able to witness first hand the response religious have made to the call of the 1971 Synod's document on Justice in the World. Perhaps the simplest statement is best: if the movement to promote.lustlce and peace has developed so strongly in our time. it is in great part due to the courageous initiatives on the part of so many religious throughout the world. 6. The promotion of the laity. It may be surprising to some that ! ha~,e chosen to underline the promotion of the laity as a sign of hope for religious. But ! believe the attention that has been given to the vocation of the laity since Vatican II has served to clarify even more the specific vocation of religious men and women in the Church. Among the significant consequences of this clarification has been greater attention by religious to the witness they give by the quality of their religious life. There is a definite priority given today to being. Religious life, theh, will not be evaluated simply in terms of doing. As important and vital as our work may be, the first and most important contri-bution we religious can make to the Church is in terms of our life. This emphasis religious give to being is a wonderful response to the call of the Church in our time, as this was stated so clearly by Pope John Paul 11 shortly after his election: "What counts most is not what the religious do, but what they are, as persons consecrated to the Lord."5 I also find it encouraging that more and more r~eligi0us ar,e emphasizing a greater collaboration with the laity, recognizing the unique values that each Signs of Hope in Religious Life Today can offer the other. One of my hopes, as a consequenge of the last Synod of Bishops on the Christian Family, has been for a more effective collaboration between the community of religious and the Christian family in the local church. 7. Collaboration in the promotion of vocations. Ever since the Second Vatican Council, the Church has been calling upon all Christians to work together in promoting all Christian vocations. The Conclusive Document referred to ear-lier is an excellent guide t9 help toward the realization of this objective put forward by the council. What I find as a heartening sign of hope is that so many religious communities are making well-organized efforts to collaborate with each other in the promotion of vocations rather than seeking unilaterally to promote their own vocations. Religious who see clearly their responsibility to promot~e a sense of voca-tion in the lives of all, and who offer their own charism to those whom God may call are themselves great signs of hope for the Church in our time. 8. Trends' in .formation and government that assure the best conditions for human development, such as: - concern for affective maturity; - emphasis on freedom and personal responsibility; - endorsement of animation as a way of exercising authority; - general application of the principle of subsidiarity; - appreciation of collegiality on all levels. Each of these points is itself a sign of hope. Taken together, these trends offer great promise for the future of religious life. 9. A reassessement of the role of religious life in the churches of Africa, Latin America and ASia, featuring both a new thrust (from missionary to collabora-tor) and new foundations to implant various expressions of religious life for greater and longer-lasting service to the local church. The kind of thinking sparked by Buhlman's "The Coming of the Third Church" has been both challenging and stimulating for many religious communities. The transition from missionary to collaborator is not easy, but it is being done. and done very well, in so many places. The new foundations, despite the overall decline in numbers and the stead-ily advancing age of communities, are remarkable signs of confidence in God's Providence, that a generous response to the evident needs of God's people is the only way to live. 10. The spirit of hope that is evident in so many leaders of religious today. I am strongly convinced of what 1 like to call "the apostolate of administration." There is nothing more life-giving than a religious leader who is a man or woman of hope and is able to share that hope with others. We religious are blessed in having many women and men of hope among us at this time in the history of religious life. I! / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 As I look at these ten signs of hope, I sense in religious life today a real desire for a way of life that, in the words of Cardinal Pironio, is committed, serious, profound, fraternal, ecclesial. Something really tremendous is happening in the Church today, and this amid the tensions and struggles of life. And so it is very life-giving for us religious to look beyond the day-to-day struggles, the evident failures and shortcomings, to see how God is at work in our lives and to share this experience with each other. Not all that is happening in religious life can be attributed to the Spirit. There is need for continual discernment. But the good that is evident in religious life is a sign of the Spirit at work among us and deserves to be recognized and proclaimed. We are in an age of transition as we experience the death of much of what was familiar and as we experience the birth of a new era in the history of religious life. May our constant prayer be for the grace to believe in the potentiality of our religious communities, recognizing that religious life does have a great mission in the Church today, and that each religious community is called to serve the Church in a special way, offering.its particular charism to be incarnated, adapted and enriched in so many different people. NOTES ~ Lumen Gentium, n. 8. 2Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 80. 3The Conclusive Document, p. 53. *Origins, Sept. 2, 1982, p. 181. 5October I, 1979. quoted in The Conclusive Document, p. 53. Our Images of God Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley's "The Eucharist as Light and Life" appeared in the issue of November/ December, 1982. He continues to live and teach at Ushaw College: Durham DH7 ORH: England. This is eternal life: to know thee who alone art truly God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent (Jn 17:3). The quality of our praying and living, and of the service we offer to others, depends a great deal on our image of God. The words of Jesus quoted above provoke me to ask: Who is this God whom 1 am invited to come to know genuinely, to whom 1 pray, for whom 1 strive to live? A correlative question follows: What image of God do I communicate to others, do we communicate as religious, as Church? We all have our image of God, though perhaps we have never paused to articulate that image in words. And whether we advert to it or not, we "reli-gious" people cannot avoid conveying an impression of our God to others. We do so, for instance, by the way in which, as parish workers or priests or headmistresses or nurses, we treat the people to whom we minister. And simple, ordinary things can speak loudly about our image of God, things like the architectural design of our churches (especially the position of the altar), the siting and decoration of our community houses, clerical dress, our style of worship. Since all religious have their particular image of God, it is obviously important that, as followers of Jesus, our God be the God of Jesus, the God whom he came to reveal, the God to whom he prayed. It would be rash to presume that his God coincides with mine! It would be equally rash to pre-sume that the image of God we project coincides with the God of Jesus! 9 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Recently, I attended a lecture by the retired Anglican theologian, E.L. Mascall. He was discussing the role of theology in the university. Theo-logy is a word about God. He questioned whether the word about God that was declaimed in the lecture theater was verified in its turn by the word about God so eloquently proclaimed by the life-style and structures of the Theology Department--an interesting question, one that is capable of being transposed to our Churches, hospitals, classrooms, religious communities. A recent con-tributor to this review maintained that the structures and patterns of seminary life have considerable influence (for the worse) on the students' image of God.~ This in turn has a negative effect on their prayer. From what do we fashion our image of God? Later in this article I shall attempt to share with you some reflections on the Scriptures' image of God. With my head ! can acknowledge it as accurate and authentic. But deep down I have another image, a "gut-level image," and this is the image that so often seems to determine my living and my praying. 1 sometimes feel as though I'm watching a slide show in which two projectors are being used and the slides fade into one another. There are the scriptural slides, and then there are the "experience" slides. Sometimes the transitions are smooth and corroborative: at other times there are conflicting and distorting idol-images. One of my friends is a keen golfer. Over his fireplace hangs a picture of a little man in a flat cap who has hit his ball into a bunker and is having difficulty in extricating it. He is just about to move it by hand--ever such a little--when he looks round at the skies and sees a vision of God: an elderly gentleman, with long, flowing beard, his finger waving threateningly. I find it easy to identify with the little golfer. I had a marvelous relationship with my father. I was always sure.of his love and understanding and help. l knew he was on my side; I could trust him implicitly. On the other hand, when 1 was about ten years old, l went for a holiday to the seaside. We were staying with a Catholic family, and they had two children of my own age. On Saturday evening we went to confession. 1 hadn't too much to say, and as I was preparing, l read through the pages of sins which, according to my prayer book, Catholic boys could commit. As a variation on the usual lies and disobedience, I thought I'd add something from the section on the sixth commandment. After all, l had kissed the little girl we were staying with, and maybe that was adultery! The priest behind the grill in that dark box was not amused, but tore strips off me, making me feel utterly evil and rejected by God. When we returned to the hotel, 1 broke down in floods of tears. The scar remains. That slide often fades on to my screen. Maybe God is like that--just maybe. An acquaintance of mine told me that when he wa_s young, he never felt sure of his mother's love. If he was naughty, she gave the impression of withdrawing her love. This made him fearful and anxious and unsure, desper-ately keen to please and not to make mistakes. Our Images of God / "1"~ It is factors like these that have helped to fashion our "gut-level image" of God. Figures like parents, teachers, priests, novice-mistresses have made it easier or more difficult to accept and make really our own the scriptural revelation of God, the Christian image of God. One writer says: "1 am con-vinced that one of the basic reasons for the current difficulties in both Chris-tian and religious life and practice is that we have .lost touch with our God."~ By "our God," he refers to the God of the Bible. So let us explore a little this biblical image of God. The Loving Faithfulness of Yahweh One of the deepest convictions of the people of Old Testament times was that their God, whom they .had come to know as Yahweh, had come out of his distance and mystery, and had approached them, spoken to them, and inter-vened in their history. "At various times in the past, and in various different ways, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets. (Heb I:l). The story began with the call of Abraham--way back somewhere between the nineteenth and seventeenth centuries B.C. Abraham risked changing his whole way of life in leaving behind homeland--and all that was familiar to him--livelihood, status and security, and migrated to the land of Canaan under the impulse of God's engaging presence in obedience to a promise. The most dramatic intervention of God in their history, chiseled indelibly into the national memory, was the Exodus event. This theme recurs like a leitmotiv throughout the various movements of Old Testament literature, and was made present again in the annual celebration of Passover. In one of the descriptions of the call of Moses, the prophet chosen to play such a key role in God's purposes, we read: I am Yahweh. 1 will free you of the burdens which the Egyptians lay upon you. 1 will release you from slavery to them, and with my arm outstretched and my strokes of power, I will deliver you. I will adopt you as my own people, and I will be your God (Ex 6:6). And Yahweh, they believed, did in fact deliver them in dramatic and exciting fashion from their oppressors. In the ensuing.events of Sinai this motley grouping of nomads received a new unity and identity as God's own chosen people, specially favored and uniquely privileged. Yahweh's relation-ship with them and theirs with him were sealed in the Covenant. One of the salient features of the Old Testament writings is the profound consciousness which Israel evinces continually that she belongs to Yahweh, that she is his community, his people. An extract from Deuteronomy provides ideal expression of this awareness: You are a people consecrated to the Lord your God: the Lord your God has chosen you to be a people of his own possession out of all the peoples that are on the face of the earth. It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the Lord set his love upon you and chose you. for you were the fewest of all peoples: but it is because the Lord loves you and is keeping the oath which he swore to your fathers . 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Know therefore that the Lord.your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments to a thousand generations (Dt 7:6-9). Israel was called, then, because of the love of Yahweh and his enduring faithfulness. And she was called to respond in love and faithfulness to him: this is the meaning of covenant pledge. Again Deuteronomy expresses this in language which is amazing for the height of its idealism and the totality of its commitment: Hear, O Israel, you shall 10ve Yahweh your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might (Dt 6:4-5). Unfortunately, however, Israel did not in general respond very well. Time and again throughout the undulating course of her history, she turned away from Yahweh, falling far short of the demands of love and fidelity, wanting rather to be like the other nations and to follow their ways. Her infidelity is mirrored in the catastrophes which befell her, like the fall of the N. Kingdom to the Assyrians in 721. But the tragic experience of failure brought growing insight into the nature of her God, the kind of God Yahweh really, is. This insight is spelled out most. movingly and beautifully by her prophets. These men were sensiti~zdy awareof Yahweh, of Israel's special calling, of the demands of the Covenant; they were deeply distressed by her waywardness and infidelity. Their image of God, their understanding of him, can be summed up in the twin concepts of love and faithfulness which we have already met. Does a woman forget her baby at the breast. or fail to cherish the son of her womb? Yet even if these forget, 1 will never forget you. See, I have branded you on the palms of my hands. (Is 49:14-16). For the mountains may depart, the hills be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you and my covenant of peace with you will never he shaken (Is 54:10). I will betroth you to myself forever, betroth you with integrity and justice, with tenderness and love: I will betroth you to myself with faithfulness, and you will come to know Yahweh (.Ho 2:21,19,22,20). I have loved you with an everlasting love, so I am constant'in my affection for you (Jr 31:3). And with this realization of God's constancy amidst their failure is born a firm hope for the future. As Jerusalem was about to fall to the Babylonian troops, Jeremiah proclaimed: Our Images of God / 13 Behold the days are coming, says the Lord. when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah . I will put my law within them. and I will write it upon their hearts: and I will be their God and they will be my people. And no longer shall each man teach his neighbor and teach his brother, saying '~Know the Lord," for they shall all know me. from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord (Jr 31:31-34). And there are those inspiring words of Ezekiel: Then I am going to take you from among the nations and gather you together from all the foreign countries, and bring you home to your own land. I shall pour clean water over you and you will be cleansed: I shall cleanse you of all your defilement and all your idols, l shall give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you: I shall remove the heart of stone from your bodies, and give you a heart of flesh instead. I shall put my spirit in you, and make you keep my laws and respect my observances. You will live in the land which I gave your ancestors. You shall be my people and I shall be your God (Ezk 36:2513. Yahweh, then, is constant: he continues to be present with his people, present in love, and in faithfulness to his choice and to his promise. The Loving Failhfulness of Jesus Centuries later, a man was wandering through the towns and villages of lakeside Galilee, preaching and healing and exorcising. From amongst those who were interested in him, he singled out twelve, as Mark says (Mk 3:!3-15), "to be with him," to share his friendship, life, ideals, and "to be sent," to share his mission. But these men consistently failed to understand him and his message, they were unable to accept the implications of discipleship. They continued to foster the old expectations, to cherish the old dreams, to think in the categories of success, political and nationalist liberation and prosperity, power and glamor. They failed to grasp the meaning of the kingdom he constantly talked about. They lacked insight to perceive who he was, this Jesus from the backwoods of Nazareth. But Jesus did not go back on his choice. One evening, as they were at supper in Jerusalem around the feast of the Passover, he spoke to them with sadness in his voice, telling them that one of their number would shortly betray him, and another, their natural leader and spokesman, would deny all knowl-edge of him. He went on to say that they would all run away and desert him in the end. At the same time, as head of the table, he broke bread and shared it with them as a sign and pledge of his love and friendship. And he offered the cup of wine, and spoke of the longed-for new covenant, the new fellowship with God, his Father, that would be sealed in his own blood. And one of them did, in fact, betray him very soon: Peter denied all acquaintance with him, cursed him even: and the rest of them took to their heels in flight, to a man. The Roman authorities executed him by the hideous and shameful torture-death of crucifixion. The God whom he had proclaimed to be near seemed very far away. 14 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 But early on the Sunday morning, some women friends found that his tomb was empty. Shortly afterwards, this Jesus appeared to Peter and then to or'hers of the group, and they came to know that the Father had raised him from death. Thus, their Risen Lord brought together again his disillusioned and scattered band, whom he loved still, and forgave, and whom he still looked on as his. his chosen ones, to whom he was fai'~hful still. And he breathed his Spirit into them, and constituted them the nucleus of the new covenanted People of God, a God whom, like him, they could now address as Father. These men came to realize that in Jesus they had encountered the love and faithfulness of God present in their midst, enfleshed. The Loving Faithfulness Which is The Spirit The Farewell Discourses of John's gospel provide us with valuable insights into the way in which the love and faithfulness of the Lord are expressed in the age of the Church: It was before the festival of Passover. Jesus knew that his hour had come. and he must leave this world and go to the Father. He had always loved his own who were in the world, and now he was to show the full extent of his love (13:1). After washing their feet as an expression of his loving service, a prophetic sign of his self-giving on the cross, Jesus returns to recline in their midst. Judas departs into the night. And Jesus opens his heart to his friends: "My children, for a little longer I am with you . . . where I am going you cannot come" (13:33). There is an atmosphere of sadness, of impending loss and bereave-ment: "You are plunged into grief because of what 1 have told you" (16:6). Jesus seeks to comfort and reassure them: "Set your troulSled hearts at rest. Trust in God always: trust also in me" (14:1). Jesus' love for his friends is palpable. Evident, too, is his strong desire to remain with them, faithful to those whom he has chosen. They are his friends, not servants. He has disclosed to them everything that he has himself heard from the Father. He has shared with them all his secrets. His willingness to lay down his life is token of his love for them. "As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Dwell in my love" (I 5:9). The manner in which Jesus shows his faithfulness and love (and therefore continues to reveal the nature of the Father as Faithful Love), and also con-tinues to be present with them after returning to the Father, is through the gift of the Spirit, the Paraclete: If you love me and keep my commandments, then at my request the Father will give you another Paraclete to be with you forever. He is the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot accept since it neither sees nor recognizes him: but you do recognize him since he remains with you and is in you (14:15-17). For John, the mission of Jesus is to reveal the Father and to give life. The Paraclete is almost another Jesus. His role is to continue Jesus' mission, to be his presence now that he is absent. He functions as teacher and guide, and as Our Images of God / 1'5 witness to the disciples and to the world (see 14:25-26; 15:26; 16:7-11; 16:13-15).3 A similar understanding of the Spirit's role is to be gleaned from the letters of Paul. When writing to the Church at Corinth, he says: And if you and we belong to Christ, guaranteed as his and anointed, it is all God's doing: it is God also who has set his seal upon us. and as a pledge of what is to come has given the Spirit to dwell in our hearts 12 Co 1:21-22). As in the Old Testament, we find again an emphasis on the free, elective love and initiative of the Father, bestowing that profound reality and sense of belonging, and pledging his enduring faithfulness. It is the Spirit dwelling within us who grafts us into Christ and assures us of a future. In Galatians Paul tells us: "To prove that you are sons, God has sent into our hearts the Spirit of his Son, crying 'Abba, Father!' You are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then also by God's act an heir" (4:6). Through the Spirit we are caught up in the relationship of Jesus and his Father, and so come to know God as love, as Father, just as Jeremiah and Ezekiel promised. The fact that we are God's children, and therefore heirs, means that this relationship has a lasting future, that God is faithful. in that magnificent hymn in the Letter to the Romans we meet those lines which celebrate the heart of the Good News that God is love and faithfulness; If God is on our side, who is against us?. Then what can separate us from thelove of Christ?. For I am convinced that there is nothing in death or iia life, in the realm of spirits or superhuman powers, in the world as it is or the world as it shall be, in the forces of the universe, in the heights or depths--nothing in all creation that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (8:31-39). ISon¢lusion The God of the Bible is best understood as Faithfulness and Love. In this way Yahweh reveals himself in the Old Testament period. In his ministry and passover, Jesus reveals the love and faithfulness of the Father~ In the post-resurrection time, the Holy Spirit takes us up into the enduring love and faithfulness of Father and Son, enabling us to know and to live in that mystery. We find, then, a threefold expression of the faithfulness and love which is our Christian God. Returning to our starting point, we need to ask ourselves whether this is in fact our image of God, whether we genuinely know God in this way. "Have I been all this time with you, and you still do not know me?"(Jn 14:9). We must ponder the interaction in i~ur lives and prayer between this biblical image and those many other images which the experiences of our past have fashioned and which tend to become superimposed, creating a distorted picture, preventing us from seeing the God of Jesus in sharp, life-giving focus. Why do we find it so difficult to surrender fully to this God in loving trust? We stand in such great need of healing and integration. 16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 And what about the image of God which we communicate to those with whom we live, those we meet in our work? Partners in Christian marriage are meant to show forth, the one to the other, something of the love, acceptance, forgiveness, tolerance, understanding and faithfulness of God--for Christian marriage is a sacrament, is a sign of God's faithful love. Their experience together is intended to be a window into the mystery of God, to be revelation. The high incidence of marital breakdown amongst Christians is a tragedy! In a similar way, we in religious and Church communities are called to mirror to one another the authentic face of the God of Jesus. Communities where there exist intolerance, lack of care and compassion, refusal to forgive, authoritarianism, selfishness, harsh judgments, are actually idolatrous; they betray their whole raison d'etre. Parents, we know, have a vital part to play in shaping their children's understanding of God. Whilst making the demands necessary for growth to maturity, parents must convey to their children a sense of being valued for who they are (and not for what they can achieve), a sense of being loved with a love they cannot lose. Sadly, the imperfeciions of parental love can so easily impart an unfavorable image of God. Likewise, in our ministry within the Church and our mission to the world, we religious are constantly and inevitably (albeit at times quite unconsciously) projecting an image of God to those we meet. We need to be alert to and critical of those aspects of our dealing with others, and of our life-style, those facets of our structures, institutions, regulations, forms of leadership and min-istry, which give the lie to the joy-filled Gospel we announce, which present to our world instead an image of God which is a travesty, perpetuating idols of power, success, security, possessions, which instills fear, guilt, anxiety and hopelessness. Jesus prayed to God as Father. The kernel of his preaching was the kingdom, God's nearness to us in acceptance and saving love. He described the prodigality of God's forgiveness in his parables. More importantly, his own way of living and relating proclaimed in language more powerful than words the palpable reality of his mercy and love, especially for the poor and outcast. The source of Jesus' remarkable freedom, his intuition into what in life is really important, his prophetic overturning of so much that had been acceptable in the society, politics and religion of his day, his breaking down and crossing of so many barriers that kept men apart, was, 1 believe, his image of God. Because Jesus knew that God is Father and is very near, and because he surrendered to the exigencies of such a vision, he could serve others in deep compassion and healing care, he could be near to them in self-gift with a courage and faithfulness that did not balk at death. In killing Jesus, men sought to destroy his God, for they perceived that such a God was too uncom-fortable to live with, and the implications of accepting him were too challeng-ing and demanding, calling as they did for radical conversion in outlook, attitude and way of living. Our Images of God / 17 Perhaps there is still much in our Church and in our religious communities to suggest that we perpetuate the attempt to deface and destroy the God of Jesus, and present instead to our world a caricature, a dreadful distortion. In John's gospel, Jesus, in a moment of controversy with the Jews, exclaims: "I was sent by the One who truly is, and him you do not know . It is the Father who glorifies me, he of whom you say, 'He is our God,' though you do not know him!" (7:28; 8:54)--words which leave us much to ponder. But Jes~s also speaks these words of great reassurance and challenge: If you dwell within the revelation I have brought, you are indeed my discip~.es: you shall know the truth, and the truth will se~ you free (8:31-32). NOTES ~Stephen Happel, "The Social Context of Personal Prayer in Seminaries," REVIEW FOR REI.I-GIOUS 39 (1980), pp. 846-854. 2Francis J. Moloney, Disciples and Prophets (London: DLT, 1980), p. 19. SR.E. Brown. The Gospel According to John (London: Chapmans, 1972), pp. 1135-1143. Discovery Why do ! find so much of me within a wood? As if I stumbled on that part of me most pure and good. There, 1 am wise and simple: I know and am understood. (Why do I find so much of me within a wood?) Why in a wood is my soul set free, - Where my eyes like wild things the silence see And ears hear color marvelously. Why in a wood am 1 free? Why in a wood is truth so true And ! in a wood shot trembling through With a worship terrible, ancient, new? Perhaps ! find in a wood---not me-- but You . Sister Ann Maureen, I.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Scripture: Literary Text and the Word of God Emmerich W. Vogt, O.P. Father Vogt is a doctoral student of the University of California, Berkeley, and the Graduate Theological Union. He is enrolled in a joint program of these institutions in Near Eastern Religion, focusing on the Old Testament. He is also an instructor at Holy Rosary College (Fremont), and resides presently in the Berkeley Priory: 2401 Ridge Road: Berkeley. CA 94709. With the rise of the modern critical sciences and the subsequent and grow-ing concern for scientific critical study, the historical character of the Bible has again and again been called into question. In their scientific investigations, scholars concede that the biblical narratives are not necessarily factually accu-rate. Some narratives, though perhaps based on actual historical events, are themselves fictional. Moreover, literary and form criticisms have shown evi-dence of various literary techniques and genres, such as mythological lan-guage, present in various narratives. To many, this scholarship has led to a certain skepticism regarding the revelatory character of Sacred Scripture and its reliability as the Word of God, something which has been proclaimed by Christians throughout the centuries. Some are led, on the one hand, to deny any authenticity to Scripture as revelation, while others, more fundamentalist in their approach to Scripture and seeking to preserve their faith in it as the Word of God, become hostile towards all historical and literary critical endeavors. The person of faith, having neither the expertise to make a scholarly inquiry, and lacking sufficient instruction from local pastors or religious educators (who themselves are often confused as to the nature of biblical literature), i~ lbd to reject either his or her faith or the methodology of the modern critical sciences. And this situation is present among both clergy and laity. In essence it is a dilemma which stems from a lack of understanding regarding the nature of Scripture as at once a 18 Scripture: Literao, Text and the Word of God / 19 reality of literary language and the Word of God. An illustration of this dilemma can be seen in the life of John Ruskin, a renowned nineteenth-century English art critic. Raised as an Evangelical Christian, from an early age he was taught devotion to Scripture as the Word of God. However, as a grown man in his thirties he lost this faith largely because of a conflict he saw between Scripture and science. He confided this to a friend, Henry Acland, in 1851: You speak of the Flimsiness of your own faith. Mine, which was never strong, is being beaten into mere gold leaf, and flutters in weak rags from the letter of its old forms: but the only letters it can hold by at all are the old Evangelical formulae. If only the Geologists would let me alone, I could do very well but those dreadful Hammers! I hear the clink of them at the end of every cadence of the Bible verses.~ Geology had been successful in weakening the faith of many Victorians, cast-ing doubt on biblical stories such as the Flood. It is very odd, indeed, that an artist and art critic like Ruskin would have had this difficulty. As an artist he "asserted that art itself must be regarded as a 'universal language,' which spoke not to the connoisseur alone but to the whole of modern mankind: a work of art was closely linked with all the other aspects of contemporary civilization.'"- What Ruskin failed to realize was that Scripture is the Word of God in human garb. It is art, it is literature. It is the Word of God, but the Word incarnated in human language. We have come a long way since Ruskin's time in our understanding of both science and of Scripture. Today we are much more accepting of Scripture's true nature as literature. Yet, we hesitate, and for that very reason, to accept Scripture as the Word of God. "We somehow are under the mistaken assumption that if God were to communicate with us, he would have to do so in exact, scientific terms, revealing to us scientific realities. Recognizing the mythopoeic nature of Scrip-ture, we are inhibited from accepting this as a valid means of divine communi-cation. This was Ruskin's problem, which led him to deny Scripture as the Word of God. An examination of the nature of literary language and its prevalence in human culture, however, will manifest its suitability to express the Word of God. The Nature of Literary Lanaguage The preacher captures the attention of his congregation with a moving story that illustr~ites a certain belief. What holds the interest of the listeners is not abstract religious truths bt~t rather religious truths conveyed in image or story forms. What the artist does with images-in-colors the preacher is able to do with images-in-words,~ and the result is a captivated audience. The human person is intrigued by such story-telling. We are image-form-ing people, and this phenomenon is clearly understood, appreciated, and pur-posely exploited by the artist, whether he be painter, song-writer or storyteller. Colorful images and not sterile abstractions are what captivate the human mind. This is illustrated by Erich Fromm in his study of dreams. 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Let us take a mood in which you feel lost, deserted, where the world looks gray, a little frightening though not really dangerous. You want to describe this mood to a friend, but., you find yourself groping for words and eventually feel that nothing you have said is an adequate explanation of the many nuances of the mood. The following night you have a dream. You see yourself in the outskirts of a city just before dawn, the streets are empty except for a milk wagon: the houses look poor, the surroundings are unfamil-iar, you have no means of accustomed transportation to places familiar to you and where you feel you belong. When you wake up and remember the dream, it occurs to you that the feeling you had in the dream was e~actly the feeling of Iostness and grayness you tried to describe to your friend the day before. It is just one picture, whose visualization took less than a second. And yet this picture is a more vivid and precise description than you could have given by talking about it at length.4 This phenomenon is not something new to the human experience. "The ability to make images is:primeval, and it is no accident that the earliest records of human activity show men making pictures."5 The us~ of literary language, however, involves insight, and our endeavor, if we are to fully enjoy and appreciate the artist's creation, is to elucidate the insight the imagery is meant to convey. The words used, the structure within which they are expressed, and so forth, are all carefully laid out by the designer. Luis Alonso Schoekel makes this point in reference to the literary language of Scripture: In literary language, words have an absolute importance, and they are sought with the greatest care~ They are not merely a way of saying something completely separable from what they say. Words are important for their sound quality, for their rhythm in a phrase, for their aura of associations, and for their resonances in the periphery of our consciousness . 6 The choice of words, the creation of moods through images, the ability to effect "resonances in the periphery of our consciousness" give literary language a charism not possible with philosophical abstractions. However, since the modern world has been so greatly influenced by the scientific mind, oftentimes the value of literary language is not appreciated as a valid means of conveying very real truths about human existence. Nevertheless, human literary achieve-ments give witness to this charism: The power of stories, parables and literal untruths to give us information can well be illustrated in the case of proverbs and "cautionary tales." The tales of the Hare and the Tortoise, the Monkey and the ,lar of Nuts, the Ass in the Lion's Skin, and many others like them, have lasted for centuries, passed from one culture to another, and still appeal today. They have survived not just because they are good entertainment, but because they each have a credible point--that life is like that. The same is true of popular proverbs, "The early bird catches the worm," "Too many cooks spoil the broth," "Empty vessels make the most noise". We test them, not by verification of their literal sense, but through living by them and finding them to work out in experience.7 Trained to search for precise, scientific data, however, the modern mind often misunderstands the nature of mythmaking and storytelling as a valid means of teaching morals or handing on true insights drawn from our com-mon experience. "For the philosopher of the age of reason, myths are barbaric superstitions that grossly befogged the mind of man . -8 Scripture: Literary Text and the Word of God / 2"~ An example of this mentality can be seen in an incident related by John Knox about a man who thought an error had crept into the text of Shakes-peare's As You Like It which reads, "books in running brooks, sermons in stones."~ This man thought that the lines must have originally read, "sermons in books, stones in running brooks." Reflecting on the man's observation, Knox remarks: A work of art is called "truer when it effectively embodies a real vision or mood of the artist, though its correspondence with any objective reality is remote indeed. Even in such a case, however, it would be rash to deny any kind of objective reference. When one calls a work "true,"does one not imply, at the very least, that the vision or mood is to some extent or at certain moments shared by others besides the artist and is therefore not entirely subjective? And does one not probably imply that there is something in the real situation of man in the world which gives rise io, or answers to, the artist's feeling? ¯ . . In other words, when we say there are "books in the running brooks," we are making a statement which, if we regard it as true at all, is for us objectively true--quite as much as the statement that stones are there. We mean that "running brooks" have something to teach us--that they really do.t0 The imagery used in a story possesses a certain power--a power not possessed by mere clear and distinct ideas as such--todraw the mind to truths by way of the imagination. However, clear and distinct ideas expressed in conceptual language is thought by many to be the only valid means of com-municating truth, as we can see from the words of the eighteenth-century philosopher, David Hume: If we take in our hand any volume of divinity, or school metaphysics, for instance; let us ask, Does it contain quantity or number? No. Does it contain an experimental reason-ing concerning matter of fact and existence? No. Commit it to the flames. For it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion.~ This mentality fails to grasp that the nature of literary language is such that stories created by the imagination, while not factual in themselves, nevertheless present the reader with certain truths about reality. It is the "kind of language that can somehow work upon men and lead them to insight and even action, where a more conceptual language might fail."12 Fiction can contain truth precisely as imaginary; it can be expressive of reality.13 The human mind is not drawn by abstract reasoning alone, and man's life entails more than ideas. We come to learn from sense experience, and such experience cannot be conveyed adequately in abstract reasoning. This charism of literary language was not understood by the rationalist, Humian mind. To misunderstand this charism is to "alienate man from his own nature," a point stressed by Edward Schillebeeckx: We might say that it is empirically demonstrable that man is alienated from his own nature if he thinks he has finished with the symbolic thinking of the religious conscious-ness . But in our one-track Western culture we can also demonstrate that the exclusiveness and absolutism of purely, scientific and technological thought., allows whole areas of our humanity to die out or become stunted, and precisely in doing so alienates man from himself.~a 22 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 A ~:lose look, however, at the literary compositions appealing to popular society will reveal that, despite the tendency to downgrade the role of literary language in expressing truths, this charism of language is very prevalent in our contemporary world. Contemporary "Rock," for example, manifests the artist's expression of "truth through images." Simon and Garfunkel's famous song, "Bridge Over Troubled Water," uses such imagery to tell of devoted friendship in a time of personal struggle. Elton John, whose mu.sic appeals to millions of people throughout the world, expresses in ima~gery an autobio-graphical situation from his early adult life in a song entitled "Someone Saved My Life Tonight." In the song he speaks of his former relationship with a woman he describes as "a princess perched in an electric chair." By way of such imagery, he conveys to the listener something of the reality of that relationship. And many articles have been written about the great influence of the Beatles' songs on contemporary society.15 Their songs abound with colorful literary expressions~ It is by way of such imagery, and not in spite of it, that their message is conveyed. These are but a few examples from contemporary popular imagery-in-music that demonstrate the usage of imagery and symbol to convey thought. "People cannot live by abstractions alone"~6 but ~appeal time and again to the image, and this appeal is perennial. It is found not only in contemporary music but in contemporary literature. The current popularity of the writings of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien is evidence of the charism of literary language in contemporary culture. Those who read them are well aware of their fictitious nature, as are those who flock to see the Star Wars sagas and or.her such science-fiction marvels. "Our knowledge that the stories are not factual is neither here nor there. For the stories themselves have power to arouse certain moral attitudes . In addition to its function of allowing the human mind to be creative in conveying truth through story, there is another reason why the .human person seeks to express himself in some medium other than with clear and distinct ideas and conceptual language. This was touched upon.above in the quotation from Erich Fromm: oftentimes we cannot adequately express ourselves through conceptual language alone. Furthermore, not all of our experiences are capable of such expression. Such is the case with re!igious experience. Some other form of expression is needed. Mythopoeic Thought and the Charism of Literary Language Because of the charism of literary language, linguistic expression can be given to that part of reality which escapes scientific scrutiny but which is, nevertheless, real and a part of our existence. Such is the case, for example, with our human urge for survival, for justice, for happiness. These urges, which are universal, experienced by people of all cultures and generations, come into conflict with the historical, existential living out of our lives.~8 The desire for survival is our common experience. We do not desire life for a given Scripture: Literao, Text and the Word of God / 23 number of years only, but eternally; if given a choice we would not have our lives terminate. Whether by witch doctors or miracle vitamins, we seek to prolo.ng our lives, to avoid aging and death. The same is true regarding happiness: we seek happiness not for a predictable number of years but for all our years. We do not want finite happiness as contingent beings, but infinite happiness as immortal beings. The conflict arises when we find ourselves cruelly thwarted. The experience is traumatic. Answers to queries arising out of this conflict escape the scientist; they evade his scientific scrutiny. From the experience of ourselves as contingent, we realize that "man cannot ground the possibilities of his own existence, his knowledge and his ability in his own planning and his own reflection."19 Out of the conflict arises the question of God, and a merely scientific, conceptual language is not adequate to deal with such a reality as God. The human person, being at home with imagery pre-cisely as a human person, resorts to mythopoeic thought to give expression to queries such as the origin of evil and injustice; man's loss of immortality which he so ardently desires; "the origin of the world and of man; the nature of deity; the origins of society and of social institutions; the ultimate validation of moral principles; the purpose and direction of human existence."z° Incapable of being adequately expressed in conceptual language, such queries find expression in mythopoeic thought. Because the language of conversation rarely enables us "to share all the wealth of an experience, or to communicate the richness of what we live within ourselves,TM mythopoeic thought finds expression in and through the charism of literary language. Although the religious experience deals with "problems that lie beyond sensible experience,"~2 the mind can nonetheless give expres-sion to this experience. John Knox saw this need for mythopoeic expression in religious language: In a word, we find ourselves dramatizing or mythologizing. Use either of these terms you will or find some other: bul however you want to say it, the main point is clear and undeniable: we are no longer speaking factually or literally. We cannot speak so when we are speaking of God, for our speech can use ,only the terms provided by our human .experience and thought, and God transcends both. The divine, however near to, even pervasive of, the human it may be, is still essentially transhuman or superhuman.2s God-talk by its very nature den~ands an expression beyond that of the discursive language of the philosopher, an expression that transcends the philosophical. Schillebeeckx cautions that although our talk of God may be inadequate, that is no reason.for silence: Unless linguistic expression is given to the reality which escapes us but grounds our being, even though this may only be through the "poverty" of symbolic expressions, it threatens to disappear into forgetfulness.24 What the person of faith "has experienced," however partially or brokenly, and therefore needs to affirm is, in its fullness or at its source, 'out of this world.''~ When we read the Christian mystics, we notice their frustration at attempting to find words adequate enough to convey their religious experien- 94 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 ces.26 The very stating of the experience seems to make it something less than it is. This demonstrates that the mythopoeic form of expression is not simply an entertaining way of speaking, as in fairy tales, but is necessary if we would convey all of our experience of reality. If we are going to appreciate the language and literature of the Bible, we need to understand mythopoeic expression and how it was used by the peoples of the ancient Near East. Out of the cultures of the ancient Near East came the literature of the Bible, which we call sacred. Literary Language in the Ancient Near East For many centuries the literature of the Bible had to be studied and interpreted simply on its own merits since no extra-biblical literature was known that could elucidate its past. For example, there was no corresponding historical material to enable the scholar to judge the nature of the historical books of the Old Testament. Did they contain history properly understood by modern terms? Knowledge from the cultures of Israel's past was greatly lack-ing, knowledge that would help answer such questions. This situation has changed drastically over the last century due to the discovery of a great number of ancient Near Eastern texts relating to the Hebrew Bible that not only predate it, but bear some strong resemblances to its subject matter. The ancestors of Israel's traditions did not live in isolation but were greatly influ-enced by the predominant cultures of their day. Pius XII, in his encyclical on the study of Scripture, recommends the study of those ancient cultures: It is absolutely necessary for the interpreter to go back in spirit to those remote centuries of the East. and make proper use of the aids afforded by history, archaeology, ethnol-ogy and other sciences in order to discover what literary forms the writers of that early age intended to use and did in fact employ.27 By discovering the literary forms used by Israel's literary ancestors, we better understand the nature of the biblical literature. Innumerable parallels between the cultures of the ancient Near East and the Scriptures have been documented by scholars.28 The wealth of ancient Near Eastern texts discov-ered since the middle of the last century has revealed, among other literary genres, such genres as "epics and myths, hymns and lamentations, proverbs and 'wisdom' composition,"~9 and these from texts of various cultures: Egyp-tian, Mesopotamian, Hittite and Ugaritic.30 Mythopoeic expression was common throughout the ancient Near East. Would this have had an influence on the literature of Israel, even though this latter is said to include the "Word of God"?. Nahum Sarna explains that there was such an influence, and the influence was no slight one: In actual fact, no advanced cultural or religious tradition has ever existed in a vacuum; it cannot therefore be studied in isolation. This is all the more true of the people of Israel. who strode upon the stage of history at a time when the great civilizations of antiquity had already passed their prime . The ancestors of Israel originated in Mesopotamia, wandered through Syria and Canaan, and settled for a prolonged stay in Scripture: Literao, Text and the Word of God / 25 Egypt . The land of Israel enjoyed a location of unique strategic importance as a corridor connecting Europe. Asia and Africa, as well as a window to the Mediterranean lands. Through it crossed the arteries of international communications, and into it flowed the powerful cultural and religious influences of surrounding civilizations. It is no wonder that the culture of Canaan was a mixed one. for its geographic position perforce imparted to it a richly international character that impeded the maintenance of individuality and the development of cultural and religious independence. In view of all this. the discovery of numerous parallels between Israel and her neighbors should hardly occasion surprise and chagrin?~ It can be said, then, that Israel and her literature were certainly influenced by the dominant cultures of her past, just as the world today is influenced by dominant cultures: McDonald's golden arches are found in Paris; Levi jeans are worn in Africa; and Shakespeare is read in Polish. Israel utilized those methods of expression common in the ancient Near East. and she borrowed from their subject matter and imagery, all the while, however, making it her own. Her literature, then, can no longer be naively regarded as a "dictated" Word of God as if somehow removed from human experience and the modes of expression utilized by the human community. Rather, it is the Word of God mediated through a rich literary language. Literary Language in the Bible Although great progress has been made in our understanding of the Bible since the discovery of ancient Near Eastern texts, a confusion has resulted. Sarna remarks that ¯. the modern student of the Bible has at his disposal a formidable array of primary and secondary tools, the fruits of a century of intensive scholarly endeavor. Excellent new translations into modern English, a deluge of popular works on archaeology, a plethora of enyclopedias, dictionaries, historical atlases, reliable non-technical commen-taries of recent vintage, all deprive any literate person of the excuse of ignorance . But the crux of the matter is that in the eyes of modern, secularized man, the Bible has very largely lost its sanctity and relevance?2 ~ We seem to meet with two extremes among readers of the Bible: those who accept the results of the modern critical sciences and have come to understand the true lite'rary nature of Scripture, but as a result do not regard such litera-ture as inspired, and, on the other hand, those.who, intent on maintaining their faith in Scripture as the Word of God, reject the results of the methodologies of the critical sciences when applied to Scripture. Why is this? The predominance of evolutionary theories, the general awareness of the findings of modern science regarding the "birth" of the universe, and the results of comparat.ive studies showing the influence of ancient Near Eastern mythol-ogies on Scripture--all this has had great ramifications regarding the inspired character of the Bible. Genesis has lost its credibility, having been understood literally for so long and by so many. The modern critical sciences have done much to shed light on the literary characteristics of this literature. As a result of such studies, we know that Scripture expresses its message not simply through 26 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 historical narrative, but also by way of poetic narrative. Because the Bible is great literature, it may contain such literary genres as myth, fairy tale, fable, saga, legend, etc.33 For Jews and Christians the Old Testament is sacred and canonical. Faith proclaims that it is inspired: it is the Word of God. Now, when the modern critical sciences discover the presence of mythopoeic expres-sion in Scripture, should the person of faith regard these sciences as a challenge to his or her faith? Or does the Word of God in revelation find expression in and through the charism of literary language? In studying what he calls "the immanence of transcendence: the possibility of expressing the reality of revelation,''34 Schillebeeckx maintains that "trans-cendence lies in human experience." Revelation itself is not a reality apart from human experience: it can be expressed only in and through the medium of human language in such wise that God's revelation comes in the form 'of human ideas and words. This emphasis on the human situation will help us underStand just how God has acted to communicate his word to the human community. As Thomas Aquinas taught, "In the divine Scriptures, divine things are conveyed to us in the manner to which people are accustomed.''35 We experience reality. What is our common mode of expressing that expe-rience? Oftentimes. imagery and mythopoeic expression. If this is the manner to which we are accustomed, and the manner to which people of the ancient Near East were accustomed, should we be surprised, or our faith challenged, because the mythopoeic nature of some of the biblical narratives is made apparent by the modern sciences? Or should we be surprised that God would use this means, to which we are accustomed, to communicate his Word? On the contrary, such an understanding can only serve to enhance our apprecia-tion of that sacred literature. To lack this understanding is to misinterpret and invalidate the scriptural message. "The devastating effect of all this upon faith, when faith was exclusively identified with a literalist approach to Scripture, is abundantly obvious.''36 If for no other reason, Scripture has lost its credibility because modern man has failed to understand that God's word has come to us precisely in our human garb, the human garb of our language, so to speak. It is a failure on the part of the Christian to commit himself or herself to a living and pervading faith in the Incarnation. Scripture is the Word of God mediated through a mythopoeic expression, and richer by that very mediation. NOTES ~George ,P. Landow, The Aesthetic and Critical Theories of John Ruskin (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 266. "-The Ent:vclopedia Americana. 1978 ed. s.v. "Ruskin, John." -~Mhson Olds, Stor.v: The Language of Faith (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America. 1977). p.5. '~Erich Fromm, The Forgotten language: An Introduction to the Understanding of Dreams. Scripture: Literary Text and the Word of God / 27 Fairy Tales and Myths (New York: Rinehart, 1951), p. II. ~Gerardus van der l,eeuw, Sacred and Profane Beaut),: The Holy in Art (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston. 1963), p. 155. 6Luis Alonso Schoekel. The Inspired Word: Scripture in the Light of Language and Literature (New York: Herder & Herder. 1965), p. 160. 7peter Donovan, Religious Language (London: Shelden Press, 1976). p. 29. 8Philip Freund. Myths of Creation (New York: Washington Square Press, 1965), p. 20. '~John Knox, Myth and Truth." An Essay on the Language ~?f Faith (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 1964). p. 19. The reference is to Shakespeare's As You Like It, Act II, Scene I. ~Olbid., pp. 20 & 21. ~Donovan, Religious Language. p. 16. ~2John MacQuarrie, God-Talk." An Examination of the Language and Logic of Theology (New York: Harper& Row. 1967), p. 205. MacQuarrie is citing from Hebert's The Bible From Within, p. 176. ~JDonovan, Religious Language. p. 29. ~'~Edward Schillebeeckx, Christ." ~he Experience ~f Jesus as Lord (New York: Seabury Press, 1980), p. 58. ~See, for example, 77me. Dec. 22, 1980. ~rRene Wellek and Austin Warren. Theory of Literature (New York: Harcourt, 1956), chapter 12. ~TDonovan, Religious Language. p. 26. ~SThe following are ideas expressive of those heard in a class at the Graduate Theologic~il Union from Professor Kevin Wall. This notion of the conflict between a person's expected desires or urges and his actual, existential situation of life lived in the world is referred to by Professor Wall as the "myth/history conflict." ~gSchillebeeckx, Christ, p. 47. -'°John L. McKenzie. "Aspects of Old ~estament Thought~" Jerome lh'blical Commentary 77:23 (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. 740. -'~Alonso Schoekel, The Inspired Word. p. 159. 2~McKenzie, "Aspects," p. 740: -'-~Knox, Myth and Truth. p. 5. ' 2'~Schillebeeckx, Christ. p. 55. ~SKnox. Myth and Truth. p. 81. ~'Such was the case, for example, with St. Catherine of Siena. During a mystical experience brought,on in prayer, Raymond of Capua (her confessor) heard her say, Vidi arcana Dei: "1 have seen the secret things of God." Raymond recounts that, "When, after a great length of time, she returned to her bodily senses sh,e kept repeating the expression Vidi arcana dei. Wishing to know the reason for this 1 said, "Mother. why do you keep saying the same thing over and over again. instead of drawing out for us as usual the meaning o,f what you say, or of adding a word or two of explanation?' 'Because,' she said, '1 find it quite impossible to say anything else. or put it into other words.' "But why,'~ I asked. 'do you find this so now, when you never did before?". 'Because.' she said, 'on this occasion ! am so conscious of how inadequate human words are to express .what I saw. I should feel as if I were only belittling God, and profaning him, by any words I could say. When the mind is rapt in God. and is granted the light and the ability to fix its gaze on him. what it contemplates so far surpasses anything that can be put into words that the one thing seems to be the negation of the other. No: this time I cannot attempt to give you even a faint idea of the things 1 have seen. They cannot be encompassed within the limits by which human speech is bound'" [emphasis added]: Raymond of Capua. The Life of Catherine of Siena, tra,ns, by Conleth Kerns (Wilmington, Delaware: Michael Glazier, Inc., 1980), p. 179. ~TPius XII. Divino A.fflante Spiritu. EB 560. -'SNahum Sarna, Understanding Genesis (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966), p. xxvi. ~S.N. Kramer, Sumerian Mythology: A Study ~f Spiritual and Literary Achievement in the Third Millennium B.C (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1944). p. 13. ~0See Walter Beyerlin. ed. Near Eastern Religious Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Phila-delphia: Westminster Press, 1978). -~Sarna. Understanding Genesis, pp. xxvi-xxvii. -~'-Ibid. p. xx. ~-~See John I. McKenzie. "The Literary Characteristics of Genesis 2-3," Theological Studies 15 (1954). p. 546. See such scriptural pas'sages as I K 17:7-16; 2 K 4:1-7: 14:9: Nb 22:22-35: and the story of Sodom in Gn 19. ~Schillebeeckx, Christ. p. 55. 35St. Thomas says, "In scriptura autem divina traduntur nobis per modum quo homines solent uti. "Comm. on Heb. ch. I, 1,4 ,quote0 in Alonso Schoekel, The li~spired Word. p. 44. Images of Job Jesse Nash, O.S.B. Brother Nash resides in St. Meinrad Archabbey; St. Meinrad. IN 47577. Every age has its heroes. Religious ages venerate saints and martyrs. Rebellious and turbulent ages tend to venerate rebels and even anti-heroes. Our age is curious in that it is characterized by both tendencies. One would naturally suppose that the heroes of traditional religious groups will sharply clash with those figures idolized by more secular, non-traditional groups in our society. Ahd such is typically the case. What the religious imagination sees as'a virtue, the non-religious or secular imagination disdains. Rarely do both camps find themselves prizing the same figure, whether histori-cal or legendary, as a hero. But the literary character Job is an example of such an exception. Both the traditional religious imagination and the contemporary imag-ination, which includes rebellious religious persons as well as non-religious ones, claim Job as their own. It is the oddity of this dual claim which has prompted this essay. The Book of Job as a Story Like an intricately designed puzzle, the book of Job frustrates the scholar and exegete. It is difficult, some say impossible, to translate. As to how the book came to its final, present form, which is a combination of poetry and prose, scholars are not in agreement. Nor are they in agreement as to how the various parts of the puzzle should really be fit together into one harmonious whole. The questions the book raises are legion. In spite of scholarly difficulties ,with the book of Job, the character of Job has been for centuries a hero of the religious imagination. For Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Job the man has been a hero to be imitated.~ More specifically, .lob was thought to be a model of patience in the face of a~Jversity. St. James represented all Images of Job / 29 three of these great religious traditions when he used Job as an example for his congregation to imitate: "You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, and how the Lord is compassionate and merciful" (5:11). In more recent times Job the man has become a hero of another sort altogether for both the religious and the secular imaginations. Job as a model of patience has been replaced with the model of Job the rebel. Job has even been adopted by the existentialists as one of their own. Today the Job who shakes his fist at the heavens in outrage and the Job who broods over the meaning of life is of more fascination than the older, more traditional view of Job. Scholars and. laity alike are more attracted to Job the impatient than Job the patient? How, we might ask, could two such contradictory models be constructed around the same literary figure? One reason for this difference in models lies in the structure of the book of Job itself, which looks something like this: 1. Prologue chapters I-2 11. Job's Laments and Debates chapters 3-27 111. A Hymn to Wisdom chapter 28 IV. The Debates Continued chapters 29-37 V. The Divine Speeches chapters 38-41 VI. Epilogue chapter 42 In the prologue and epilogue, the book is basically in prose. The rest of the book is mostly poetic in style. In the prologue Job is patient, and at the end of the divine speeches he surrenders to God, repenting in the end (40:3-5: 42: I-6). From these sections of the book the model of Job the patient was constructed. A different picture of Job is found in his laments and in his argumehts with his friends--here Job is not only impatient, he is rebellious. Thus we have the two models. Of course, the problem with either model is that it relies only on sections of the book congenial to the desired model. The book as a whole is often ignored. When this happens we are only given a glimpse of one image of Job when in fact there are three distinct images of Job in the book: one of patience, one of impatience or rebellion, and one of repentance. The images, at first glance, appear to be contra-dictory. How do we reconcile Job's rebellion with his final repentance? Some have chosen to ignore the repentance as though it were out of place in the book. But as Bernhard Anderson has pointed out, the fact that Job repents is the key to the book as a whole.3 Several scholars, along with Anderson, have stressed that the book of Job should be read as a story.4 By reading the book as a story with each of the various sections belonging together, we find that we do not have to choose between the model of Job the patient and Job the rebel. Neither model really reflects the whole story, so to speak. To choose ,lob the rebel over Job the patient or repentant (or vice versa) neglects the fact that in the book we catch glimpses of at least three moments in the life of a literary figure as he attempts to understand himself, his suffering, his world and his God. To read the book of Job as a story is to read the 30 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 movement of one person from self-assured patience to open rebellion to finally repentance and reconciliation with God. From Patience to Impatience In the prologue, chapters I-2, Job is presented as a successful family and business man with considerable wealth in terms of land, livestock, and servants, He was also blessed with many children. Both the extent of his wealth and the number of his children were signs of God's blessing in the popular piety of the day. Of course, the reason for this blessing was Job's righteousness. He was "blameless and upright, one who feared God, and turned away from evil" (I:1). 'The depth of his piety can be seen in his concern for the spiritual welfare of his children: ¯. he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said. "lt may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts." Thus Job did continually (1:5). Such a description not only serves to draw attention to Jo.b's piety, it also points to his wisdom. Although his children had every reason to be contented and thankful to the Lord. the possibility of alienation from God was always present. When misfortune did strik~ Job's children, servants, and property, he reacted as a wise man should. He mourned his loss and worshipped God (1:20). He was steadfast, as St. James said. and reconciled his loss with his faith in God: Naked I came from my mother~ womb, and naked shall 1 return: the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord. In all this he did not sin or charge God with wrong ( 1:21-22). Even when Job himself is afflicted with sores over his body, he remains stead-fast. To his goading wife, he retorts: "Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil" (2:10)? Job's so-called patience was maintained because of his conviction that come what may, good or bad, it comes from God. Thus suffering was something to be endured. This too was part of the popular piety of the Ancient Near East (see Pr 3:1.1-12). ' Needless to say. Job's patience does not last long. As Job's patience ends in the story so does the prologue and thus begins Job's poetic lamentations and debates with his friends. Still, Job does not curse God. Rather. he curses the gift of life: "Let the day perish wherein 1 was born, and the night which said. 'a man child is conceived'" (3:3). His friends protest his outburst. Life. as a gift from God, was sacred to these people. Moreover. and here is a point often missed. Job's outburst is out of character for him. Eliphaz chides him: Behold, you have ,instructed many, and you have strengthened the weak hands. Your words have upheld him who was stumbling, and you have made firm the feeble.knees. But now it has come to you, and you arc impatient: it touches you, and you are dismayed (4:3-5): Images of Job / 31 Having helped others, Job now finds himself unable to cope with his own suffering and pain. He is forced to admit he hasn't the strength to be patient (6:11-13).~ Sheol is a nicer alternative than his present life (3:13-19). Sense of God and Sense of Self Job's patience and wisdom crumble before his pain. He is not being true to form, his friend Eliphaz notes. He becomes rebellious and argues with his friends. Claiming that he has not sinned, he argues that he does not deserve to stiffer in such a way (6:10). His outbursts are directed against God as well: "Why hast thou made me thy mark? Why have 1 become a burden to thee" (7:20)? Being bold in his anger, he would even presume to argue face to face with God to defend himself and the record of his life (13:3-5). Such a posture from Job has led John Bowker to think that Job's "sense of God" has been radically altered. Job no longer knows what to expect from his God, who is supposed to reward the righteous and not punish them.5 But is this actually the case? Did Job's experience of suffering cause him to question the very God he worshipped in the prologue? This question is crucial because'on it hinges the model of Job the rebel. Roland Murphy sheds some light on the question. He notes that Job is expe-riencing "the dark side of God.''6 This side of God'is not new to Job or the reader of the book. In the prologue we are told that God is going to allow Job to be tested (1:8-12: 2:3-6). This is the Hebrew way of saying that God is not above such a thing. The reader is almost immediately confronted with "the dark side of God," Job himself in the prologue relates his misfortunes to the hand of God and claims that evil as well as good should be accepted from God. And in his laments Job never doubts the existence of this side of God. The God Job worships in the prglogue is the same God he rages against in his lamentations. True, Job does rebel, but he rebels because he himself has become a victim of this side of God. Where before he counseled and consoled the victim, now he is one himself. Ironically, he asks: What is man. that thou dost make so much of him, and that thou dost set thy mind upon him. dost visit him every morning, and test him every moment? (7:17). Job has always been aware of this side of God, the testing side. But now that he personally is affected by it he questions the rationale .behind this possibility of the God-human relationship. Becoming more rebellious, he even questions the ration-ale behind punishing sinners: "It~ I sin, what do I do to thee, thou watcher of men" (7:20)? It is Job's "sense of self" that has radically shifted. He complains about the nature of a person's sojourn on earth in general--it is like that of a hired-hand (7:1). Old age also stares at him: "my life is a breath" (7:7), he tells his friends. Angrily, he is forced to conclude that suffering is only an additional complicating factor in the problematic nature of a person's life. 32 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Job's sense of self is shattered by the greeting he gets from his social world. His friends wrongly associate his affliction with sin. His affliction (remember, he is covered with sores) has ostracized him from his natural acquaintances (19:13-19). Worst of all, "I am repulsive to my wife" (19:!7). His frfistration and rage are exemplified in his protest to his friends: "Why should I not be impatient? Look at me, and be appalled, and lay your hand upon your mouth. When I think of it I am dismayed, and shuddering seizes my flesh" (21:5-6). And while all this has hap-pened to Job, the wicked prosper and grow old peacefully (21:7-21). Tested by God and shunned by his social world, Job rebels. One can under-stand his preference for the peace and rest of Sheol (1:13-19). What one cannot understand is how Job got the reputation over the centuries for being patient. But neither is Job's rebellion the last word in the story. To Repentance Job demanded a face-to-face showdown with God so as to resolve the issues he had raised. Yet when God does appear, much to the surprise of the reader, God does not defend himself by resolving the issues. In the divine speeches (chapters 38-41) God is on the offensive, asking some questions of his own: where was Job at creation or can Job control creation? Job is overwhelmed and concludes: "Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer thee" (40:4)? And finally, "I had heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees thee: therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes" (42:5-6). But why does Job repent? God does not actually absolve Job as he had demanded. Instead, Job is given a whirlwind tour of, in G. K. Chesterton's famous phrase, "an idiotic universe," a universe in which the wild ass (39:5ff), the wild ox (39:9ff), the ostrich (39:13ff), Behemoth or the hippopotamus (40:15-24), and even Leviathan or the crocodile (the subject of all of chapter 41) are the wonders that attest to God's glory and power. God here literally sings a hymn of praise to the ostrich, the hippopotamus, and the crocodile, creatures ugly or dangerous to humans. But these are the wonders of the universe according to God. He even seems proud of his "idiotic universe." God's description of the wonders of the universe catches Job off guard, so to speak. "What is man that you make so much of him?" Job had asked earlier. God replies by making much of creatures ugly or dangerous. The divine speeches force . Job to realize that he is not the center of the universe and that humans are not the only concerns God has. In regard to the meaning of the divine speeches, Robert Gordis notes: "The universe was not created exclusively for man's use, and therefore neither it nor its creator can be judged solely by man's standards and goals,w ' Job's rebellion was against his world and his God. God appears and shows him how little Job actually knows and understands. To demand to know the reason for suffering is to ask for more than is possible for humans. But God does not himself offer an easy answer. He confirms Job's suspicions that he has indeed created "an Images of Job / 33 idiotic universe." Nevertheless, a person's first obligation is not to understand but to give glory to the creator come what may.8 By his rebellion Job has caused an imbalance in the divine-human relationship. His repentance restores that relationship. onclusion Perhaps the unnerving thing about the book of Job for the reader of any age is that Job does repent. God in his confrontation with Job never addresses the problem of the suffering of the righteous or even the problem of ordinary living, both of which came to frustrate Job. Rather, God in the divine speeches accepts the world as his creation. He lays claim to it in spite of how crazy the world may appear to us. Job repents, but God declares to his friends that Job had spoken correctly of God (42:7). By his repentance Job accepts God in spite of unanswered questions and "an idiotic universe." Herein may lie a model worth our imitation, a model more challenging than those of Job the patient or the rebel. NOTES ~Nahum N. Glatzer, The Dimensions of Job: A Study and Selected Readings (New York: Schocken Books, 1969), pp. 12-34. 2Qoheleth has also been appropriated by some as a rebel or as an existentialist. For a critique of the use of Job and Qoheleth in such a manner see Robert Gordis, Koheleth-- The Man and His World. 3rd ed. (New York: Schocken Books, 1968), pp. 112-28. 3Bernhard W. Anderson. Understanding the Old Testament, 3rd ed. (Eng!ewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1975), p. 559. 4See Glatzer, p. 4: Robert Gordis, The Book of Job: Commentao', New Translation, and Special Studies (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America and KTAV, 1974): William J. Whedbee. "The Comedy of Job," in Semeia, 7 (1977), pp. 1-39. 5John Bowker, The Religious Imagination and the Sense of God (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978), p. 100. ~'Roland E. Murphy, The Psalms, Job, Proclamation Commentaries (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977). p. 79. 7Gordis. The Book of Job, p. 435. SAnderson. p. 558. A Word On Tomorrow's Renewal M. Helen Hardebeek, O.S.B. Sister Helen has been a member of the Benedictine community of Boerne, Texas. since 1960, and is presently working with Benedictine Sisters in Mexico City. She has attended both public and private universities. She writes "influenced by the totality of these experiences . prompted by a strong desire to encourage my sister and brother religious to see the long-range nature of our renewal efforts." Sister Helen may be addressed at Rio Bamba #870: Delegaci6n Gustavo Madero: Mexico 14. DF. 07300. Tired of talking about renewal? Want to know when we are finally going to settle down? You may be in for a shock: we've only just begun. The thing about renewal is that it never should have stopped happening in the Church in the first place. But stop it did--and that fact stands to warn us that stop it can again. We are made of the same weary bones and tired blood and change-resistant mentalities as those who first began to settle for the routine churchiness which provoked John XXIII to call for an opening of windows in the 1960's. Fifteen to twenty years later, most American Roman Catholic religious communities have lived through renewal processes; whether they have lived through renewal experiences remains an open question. Ask a representative religious (if you cannot find a representative religious; ask just any religious you come across), "How is your community renewing itself?." The answer very likely will be, "We already did." Thus do we set ourselves up a~ marvels of.grace or as paragons of delusion. It is a little like asking, "Are you looking forward to springtime?" and being told, "l've already seen one." Members of a community may feel that they have "renewed"just because they have studied and revised constitutions, set up group-defined goals and objectives, and established committees to evaluate the results of the efforts directed toward achieving those goals and meeting those objectives, While 34 A Word on Tomorrow's Renewal such efforts do indicate a willingness to travel toward renewal, they are no indication that renewal has indeed taken place. True, many aspects of our communities have changed, but l~t's face it: not all change is in the direction of renewal, and we are not always wise and clever and alert enough to catch the difference right away--although we may be scandalized at the thought that for all our prayer and sincerity, We, as groups, actually can make mistakes. Perhaps one of the biggest mistakes we are tempted to make is that of canonizing ourselves before our time, thinking that because we have asked the Spirit to guide us and have trusted the Spirit to guide us, thereby we must have made excellent decisions. The truth is that we--none of us--are immune from the probability of making some mistakes--even in prayed-over group deci-sions. We get together, trust, and do the best we can with the information and inspiration at hand. Nevertheless, it can turn out that, with the best will in the world, groups have made decisions which ultimately do not result in the authentic renewal of ministries and of lives that was intended. And~that does not say that the Spirit hds not been with us! After all, whole masses of populations lack success, lack necessities, lack knowledge, even though the working of the Spirit in their lives may be pro-found-- so profound, in fact, that our age probably will not know what groups and which actions have been truly effective in renewing the face of the earth. Looking at the poor and the oppressed and the ignorant~ one could judge that all they do and have done is to make mistakes! But we don't know. And we don't know about ourselves~ either. So one day we may discover that we have made some bad decisions. Does that mean that the Spirit is not with us, "or was not present at the time of the decision-making? Let us transpose the questions to another level: Is the Spirit not with prayerful poor or oppressed or ignorant persons? H~ive we made successful results to be our criteria by which to judge the value of prayer? It is-not necessarily success that characterizes the value of our renewal efforts. True renewal is characterized by love--a love that keeps growing in the same Spirit~regardless of success or failure, a love that does not allow factions to develop--factions made up of those who knew better all along, those who should have known better in the first place, and those who, in the clear light of hindsight, can now tell us better. Is renewalactive within the hearts of the cOmmunity members? If.so, then renewal is active within the fiber of~the community, and that community will be renewed. Ask ~f the community is loving, open, to the ideas of each person, or are there m(mbers whose ideas are always disregarded a priori because, for example, they "talk all the time without thinking!" Some people, unfortunately pei'haps, think by talking: as a result, much of what they say gets tuned out. Yet, in a "controlled-process situation," where solitary reflection is insisted upon as a pre-requisite to the sharing of insights, the tuning out of anyone by any6ne else is definitely a sigff of bad will, and a hindrance to the renewals process. 36 / Review.for Religious. Jan.-Feb. 1983 Another instance: does a clique of judges hold court privately on the inner workings and outer behaviors of the group? Thoughtful dialogue about per-ceived problems and weaknesses can be a sign of a loving community because thoughtful dialogue imp!ies a sincere desire to include ever more intensely Christ who is present where two or three are gathered in his name; but carping criticism is as different from thoughtful dialogue as chewing gum is from eatirig a hearty meal. Attempts at dialogue with chronic complainers are a wrong-way drive down a one-way street--just that pleasant, and just that effective. On the other hand, dialogue, which includes elements of constructive criticism, can be useful and invigorating. is the community loving? Does every person feel free to express opinions and to raise questions, knowing that the opinion expressed will be valued, and that questions asked will be seen not as signs of stupidity, but rather as signs of sincerity? ls the community loving? Or would a member cringe who has to ask for a substitute to wash dishes, a driver to the doctor, a helper on a project which is running late. So many indications of love, or its absence, could be listed--and most of them come down to simple, everyday acts which indicate an unselfish-ness, a lack of self-importance, a kind way of thinking. The process of renewal should, of its nature, be !ight, joyful, and exciting. What was old is becoming young again! What was broken is being healed! What was listless is being invigorated! When renewal is experienced as tire-some, dull, irksome, something is wrong. The mark has been missed. Better to stop and play a game or put a vase of flowers on the table: to sing a song or have an ice cream party. If we are truly renewing, we are becoming more and more like the happiest people who have ever lived: Jesus, whose awareness of the Father kept him headed toward the breathtaking experience of Resurrec-tion; our founders, whose glimpses of what it means to help others come into contact with Eternal Beauty made their lives adventure stories. Our founding documents brim with the possibilities open in life for you and for me. If we are not filled with happy thanksgiving for creation, not convinced that life is a splendid opportunity for sharing a magnificent message, then we still need renewing. How do we become and stay renewed? A lot depends on attitude. We can go through a group process and come out animated or disgusted--it depends on attitude. Any process can fail if those who come to it are disgruntled because they have to work in small groups, or because they had to stop what they were doing to come to "another meeting," or because they have convinced themselves that processes are for the purpose of manipulation. If process after process results in a heavy, sarcastic atmosphere, it may be time to say, "Per-haps we are not going to be renewed. Maybe we are going to die." And a funeral service could well be the next process--to lay to rest the hopes and dreams of the founder, the hopes and dreams that this group had been ¯ intended to realize today. A Word on Tomorrow's Renewal As we have seen, negative attitudes can sabotage renewal efforts. Positive attitudes, however, can enliven these efforts with ease and graciousness. Con-sider, as an example, the study of revised constitutions. As mentioned earlier, a study does not, in itself, guarantee or signify renewal--but the spirit in which a study is undertaken can be, indeed, a sign of renewal, if the corporate and individual qualities of Christian love highlight the interaction as the members explicate their documents together. Usually revised constitutions are couched in current theological terms-- which undoubtedly are interpreted differently among the membership. A study of these terms and of the varying understandings can be a fruitful "grassroots" source of reflection; and when it turns out that interpretations do differ, perhaps drastically, that is just fin!! Why not? Go through your community's constitution by yourself sometime. Is every phrase crystal clear? Is every underlying assumption apparent and familiar to you? Do you have a suspicion that there is more being implied than a cursory reading indicates? Or do you have other suspicions: that you know exactly what particular passages mean to certain others of your group and that your own interpretation differs vastly from theirs? The process of revising constitu-tions was intended to provide a theoretical framework wherein renewal could take place. The riches of our revised documents may be far greater than we realize, especially if we have not given ourselves the benefit of taking a close look at the fine print, and more especially, if we have not taken advantage of the opportunity to share our insights with others, and of learning from their impressions and reactions. Firm understanding of our own thought takes time; firm understanding of one another's thoughts is an even slower process. It is also tricky in that we must constantly allow for change (growth) in our own and in the other's thinking. However, if we are to know both ourselves and our documents, we may need to face up not only to the inspirational aspects, but also to the hard questions that result when differing interpretations are discussed openly. Did anyone ever say not to question our documents? The asking of searching questions may be a great source of renewal, particularly the asking of searching questions by our own Companions, within the context of our own communities. If we are fortunate enough to belong to a group that is honest, open, and tolerant, we can increase in our appreciation of the elusive nature of truth. As we ponder truth's way of moving past our present understandings, its way of surrendering itself only to the most persistent of pursuers, we can grow in our appreciation of the ongoing nature of truthful renewal--and we will not grow tired. On the contrary, we will grow livelier as we support one another as individuals, as we contribute to the cohesiveness and effectiveness of our communities, and as we witness in our ministries that ongoing efforts are needed if we are to become an ever-renewed people on our way to an ever-new God. Am I Growing Spiritually? Elements for a Theology of Growth Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is a Professor of Theology at St. Meinrad Seminary. An earlier article, "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio." is still available as a reprint. Father Net~man may be addressed at St. Meinrad Seminary: St. Meinrad, IN 47577. ecently a student at our seminary expressed his judgment about the quality of the theological and spiritual training offered to him: "Because of the many talents, and abilities of our faculty I am sometimes overwhelmed by the,vast-ness of what one should know and be. This has contributed to .a feeling of insecurityand incompetence on my part in tackling pastoral duties and spir-itual responsibilities." In a later conversation this student indicated that the variety of theological disciplines, the pluralism within each discipline, and the multiplicity of personal spiritualities forced him toward too many choices and subsequently a stalled indecision towards his professional and spiritual devel-opment. This young man. rather sharply reflects the problem that confronts many people today. The American religious scene corrals a grab bag of inter-ests, from mysticism to social action, from pure rationalism to biblical funda-mentalism, from family-c~ntered religion to process cosmology. The spiritually minded individual, fortunately or unfortunately, gets exposed to most of these religious trends at"some time or other. Besides being intellectually confusing this incredible mixture tends to stall one's personal integration, growth and competence in the spiritual life. In this article I wish to explore the possibility and issues of a viable "theology of spiritual growth.L' I would like to search out some concrete directives by which a Christian adult might seriously look at his or her life and give a satisfying response to the question: "Am ! growing spiritually?" 38 Am I Growing Spiritually? / 39 This tremendous concern of faith-minded adults for their o~,n spiritual growth cannot be separated from the larger thrust of American religion into the realm of interiority and spirituality. At the outset it would be good to take some time to clarify what is meant by the two terms spirituality and spiritual growth. At least in Roman Catholic circles, and I suspect beyond, spiritualio, has become a "hot" subject in recent years. Books, workshops, prayer seminars and directed retreats proliferate and vie for the increasing crowd of concerned believers intent on deepening their faith. This movement in spirituality high-lights a number of concerns in American religious practice. There is, first, the desire to break through the abstractions and formalismsof religion to gain a personal, immediate contact with God. This desire also wants to go beyond the generality of scriptural l~hrases such as "life in the Spirit" and "following the Lord." These are certainly important but they need to be fleshed out with a commonsense language of our time and culture. Second, prayer is viewed,as "being-in-the-presence-of" the Divine rather than an obligatory addressing of the Deity; it is personal communion with God. Third, by means of spirifuality people wish to free their emotions and use their real-life experiehces as their primary religious foundation in place of theoretical dogmas. And, lastly, the spirituality thrust calls each man and woman to develop a very persOnal and intimate religious practice. These concerns convey some of the flavor of the spirituglity movement, but they do not make precise the structured shifts that take place in the religious practice.of people. Fo.r this we need to know the basic elements of any spiritu-° ality. I would like to suggest four constitutive elements which are always operative, either explicitly or implicitly, within a given spirituality9 I. The point at which God touches people in their dai~v lives. The~real, generating source of any spirituality is found where the person oi" per~ns s~e~nse the p,resence of Mystery or of the Transcendent in their everyday lives. Wher-ever we sense that a power beyonff draws us out of ourselves and gives us a feeling of awe or of selfless love (the Holy), then a spirituality begins.2 Those everyday moments, places, events or persons which join us to the Transcen-dent ground the structural origin of any sPirituality. 2. The supports constructed to protect and nourish this experience of Mystery. The instinctive reaction to an experience of the Holy is to surround it with activities: derived from our best abilities, which are intended to'shore up and protect, and thus contribute to the likelihood that the Mystery will appear to us again. Whatever form these follow-up activities take, they constitute the intrinsic "devotions" of the spirituality. 3. A method of.focusing one's attention,for the renewed encounter with Mystery. Such styles of "attending" are, in fact, methods of prayer. From a phenom, enological perspective, every style of prayer--meditation or contem-plation, communal or ritual movement--reflects a particular way of organiz- 40 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 19~3 ing and stimulating consciousness to prepare for Mystery. 4. A method of growth and conversion. Every spirituality encloses some plan for extending the benefits and riches of one's contact with God into all other areas of one's life. To meet the Transcendent must rearrange values, and that rearrangement must automatically push itself into all other parts of a person's total !ife-world. A spirituality, then, inherently implies some kind of spiritual growth. This last item of the structure of spirituality needs development, thus bringing us to the major concern of this paper: a theology of spiritual growth. Our American culture is obsessed by the need for progress. People feel compelled to constant growth--intellectually, personally and spiritually. Not unlike so many consumer products that we buy, each year (we feel) we should be able to measure ourselves as "new and improved."This often rabid quest mirrors the ethos of American modernity itself, the cumulative result of indus, trialization, technology, mass media and the.myth of prbgress.3 This cultural storm has flooded into the religious milieu of America as well, engulfing all the branches of the Christian tradition. The myth of contin-ual growth, the American dream, has ever so forcefully incorporated itself into our religious practice and hopes. People feel an intense need to be able to measure and plot their progress toward God. They ask for special courses and practica in spirituality, faith formation and prayer. They seek out spiritual directors with whom to identify evidences of their spiritual growth. This state of affairs generates a plethora of problems. First of all, few people seem to have any clear idea or conviction about what "spiritual growth" really consists of, or how to measure it. Like myths about sex, views of spiritual growth get passed around from popularized article to popularized conference. Countless people strive constantly to improve, to grow, but end up terribly frustrated because they aren't sure if they are getting anywhere-- because adequate criteria and a coherent theory are lacking. Marshall McLuhan once wrote: "The price of eternal vigilance is indifference,TM an ominou~warning for so many who cast themselves headlong into plans of spiritual regeneration. This presents us with a serious problem in Christian spirituality today. In the remainder of this article, I will try to indicate some componen~ts of a theology of spiritual growth which might assist Christians to make a better evaluation of their lives in their journey towards the Mystery of God. Three points, will be specifically addressed: i) the necessity of a critique of cultural theories of human growth; 2) a better use of Christian religious rcseurces as a foundation for valid spiritual growth; and 3) the importance of increasL,g *he role of personal responsibility for one's spiritual growth. The Necessity of a Critique of Growth Theories In the last quarter century, under the onslaught of the psychological revo-lution, an ~er-increasing array of theories of human growth have established Am I Growing Spirituall.v? / 41 themselves as elements of the American cultural scene. Philip Rieff's prophetic warning has ~come of age: Psychological Man lives by the ideal of insight--practical, experimental insight leading to the mastery of his own personality. Psychological Man has turned away from his Occidental preoccupation with transforming the environment and converting others. Rather. he now more nearly imitates the Oriental ideal of salvation through self-contemplative manipulation.5 Some perception and schematizing of human growth has traditionally bei:n a part of all folk wisdoms and religious traditions. The transition from child to adult was always hcknowledged, and a large portion of folk literature dealt'with the shifts in behavior, attitude and community-esteem that attach to the passage from boy to man or girl to woman. Similarly, religious traditions Of every kind have alwa3)~ sought to understand the fundamental ~hifts that occur in the course of human life and how this changes the individual relation-ship with God; the Hindu schema of Student-Householder-Wanderer-Holy Person serves as a typical example.6~However, these traditional understandings of human growth have been sharply accentuated and developed in our hyper-psychologized milieu. Not too long ago psychologists began to delineate more precise stages of growth--down to year-by-year and month-by-month. In addition to more narrowly identifying the temporal sequence, they also expanded the list of means by which such growth should occur. One fairly recent book lists a sample of the ways available to contemporary Americans, offering us growth by means of play, breathing, extended perception, smell, taste, touch, sex, family, encounter groups, peak experiences, gestalt therapies, LSD dreams, meditation, training intuition, psychedelic experiences and-- finally--relaxation .7 In such a supercharged atmosphere, is it any wonder that people start Worrying about "having to grow"?. They check themselves month by month to keep tabs on the normalcy of their progress. A man in a parish once told me of his anxiety that his mid-life crisis hadn't started on time! People can get abnormal trying too hard to be normal. A good theology of spiritual growth ought to address this issue head-on. Available theories are legion in our society. Just consider the complexities of balancing together Piaget's cognitive development,8 Erikson's psycho-social theory of growth,9 l~ohlberg's stages of moral development,10 Richard Jones' structuring of imaginal growth,~ Daniel Levinson's modeling of adult life-transitions, 12 and Elizabeth Kuebler-Ross' enumeration of the stages of dying.~3 Apparently the negotiation of one's way through that maze begins with the first month of life and never ends until the final breath. It would be a grim and determined individual who would seek never to sway from the tough road of.such normalcy: "Narrow is the path that leads to life and few there are who follow it" (Mt 7:!4)! What I find distressing is how easily and totally those growth schemas are imported wholesale into spiritual thinking and writing. Piaget and Kohlberg 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 are assumed to present ready-made outlines for faith development.14 Erikson's schema is accepted as the basis for identifying the major steps of adult religious conversion.~5 Levinson's adult life-transitions provide the hidden key to a mid-life "spirituality of crisis."16 . 1 would like to suggest that a theology of spiritual growth ought to provide a much deeper and more detailed critique of these'theories of human growth and their uses for spirituality. While there is much excellent research in these cultural theories of growth and development,and while they certainly offer a mine of insights to be tapped for a theology of spirituality, there is still a need for religious prudence in the acceptance of them.' Too often, for instance,, one encounters the feeling that the accurate following of this or that theory becomes binding ,for human happiness. "Normalcy" equals happiness and fulfillmen!! A theology of spiritual growth should exercise some critical defla-tion of such expectations. ,. Again, readers of psychological theories frequently assume~that a particu-lar age-related growth pattern can be made the target of personal decision and attacked forthwith. They forgetthat the most such schemes can accomplish for any individual is to provide possible awareness-points along the way toward long-range programs and decisions, points which might possibly help people to locate the source of some of their present blockages in one or other unre-solved issue of their past lives. There are, in other words, no instant panaceas. In seeking for balance in the utilization of these chronological growth patterns, a theology of spiritual growth would do well to brush off discarded philosophy books, rehabilitating, for instance, the existentialist notion of "event."~7 In the making of a human life, the setting of attitudes, actions and hopes is as much the result of the particular and unique events which happen to an individual as it is of the unfolding of any chronologically structured growth scheme. Most life events occur without our previous consent,'even though others may be defiberately planned and executed. The powerful exis-tentialist insight into event, however, has recently been smothered, philosophi-cally, in the waves of' structuralism. Bonhoeffer's Letters and Papers from Prison provide a good example of one man whose mind, heart and vision had been irrevocably changed and shaped by his unplanned prison experience.~8 Other areas cannot be developed here. But let me suggest that any ade-quate theology of spiritual growth must incorporate and develop four basic d~,namics of human and spiritual deepening. I have drawn these from a theory that combines social phenomenology and cultural anthropology. ,I. Chronological Growth Stages. This dynamic encompasses the many theo-ries that seek to explain how the structural human being (mind, emotions, sociality, and so forth) moves through the trajectory of life. Its purview.is the time line, and it locates the person as moving successively out of. oqe set of structures into a future set. Most of the growth schemas menti.oned above-- Erikson, Kohlberg, Levinson, and so forth--are good exp?sitors of, this Am I Growing Spiritually? dynamic of human growth. Knowing these chronological stages can give us some positive insight into how we have negotiated the human need to cope With emotional maturity, sociality, intellectual responsibility, and so forth. We need to know this, and it can serve as a fundamental indicator of our spiritual growth toward the mystery of God.19 2. Cultural Exposure. Just as significant for a basic human and spiritual deepening is the dynamic of cultural expression to which a person has been exposed. Here growth opportunities point to a richness or expansiveness of social, personal and religious experiences of life. This may be the. most ne-glected of all the basic areas of human and spiritual growth. Americans espe-cially hax~e been provincial---even to the point of denigrating the cultural riches of other peoples. Yet we have ,to realize that there are many ways of meeting the fundamental issues of life in family and society, of entering into interper-sonal relations, and so on. To limit oneself exclusively to the learned patterns of one:s own family or culture is, in effect, to deny the possibility of other ways of growing that God has offered to the human race. Cultural openness is also a means of grasping more profoundly just how God's life me~rges with our own. A personal example may illustrate what I mean here. 1 was raised in a small midwestern town, in a culture strongly shaped by traditional Germanic values. A cardinal belief of that culture was: You never get something,for nothing. That limited experience kept me from really understanding and inter-igrizing the New Testament notion .o.f charism--a gift of God freely bestowed. It wasn't until I had lived in another culture (Italy)~.f.or four years that the cultural expression of pure gift became an experienced part of my reality, enatiling me to interioriz_e this New Testament meanin.g. I doubt that this could have happened if 1 had clung rigidly to my inherited convictions. A broadbased cultural exposure can be a vital dynamic of both human and spiritual growth. Not only should we recognize this, but we should be ,willing to let ourselves be challenged by it. 3. The Depth of TranSformational Possibilities. This dynamic considers'to what extent the indivi~lual recognizes the opportunities that are available for changing one's life~ The previous element cab present numerous possibilities and values to test One's ability to go~ beyond and enrich one's inherited and socialized culture. This dimension of human deepening, though, looks far mor+ r~dically and openly to the future hnd to the goal of humanization than do the previous two areas. It incorporates the hope and realistic expectation that 6ur live~ can actually be reshaped and renewed into a creative new pattern that combines inherited values and newly-learned cultural expressions. The full reality of spiritual growth, then, must internalize the possibility that the true spiritual person will be the result of a creative religious act.2° 4. Integrative and Creative ~)ecision. This final dynamic specifies that unique moment when the three preceding dimensions are brought into mutual interac- 44 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 tion. Chronological growth, cultural possibilities, and projected changes are balanced and ready to be creatively merged by free decisions. This truly inte-grative dynamic of spiritual deepening is the traditional meaning of Wisdom. Christian theology has also called it "discernment in the Spirit of the Lord."!t is an axis of human and spiritual growth which reaches far beyond the simple importation of cultural growth theories into religious spirituality. These four elements of spiritual growth ought to provide at least a basic framework that would take us beyond a simple application of the chronologi-cal growth stages. Spiritual directors and reflective Christian adults should examine all four areas for material to answer the question: Am 1 growing spiritually? Christian Resources and a Theology of Spiritual Growth Having considered the problem of understanding growth in contemporary spirituality and the human social sciences, we must further inquire." Does the Christian religious experience offer any special contributions to this issue of spiritual growth? Does the Christian tradition add any unique perspectives in ascertaining the precise goals, means or methodological steps of authentic spiritual deepening? First, let us acknowledge that Scripture surely affirms some kind of reli-gious maturation. The Apostle Paul gently reprimands his congregation at Corinth: "I treated you as still infants in Christ. What I fed you with was milk, not solid food, for you we.re not yet. rea.dy for it" (I C° 3:1, 2). In another passage he contrasts the ways of Children with those of adults as a norm for spiritual deepening (! Co 13:9-12). Paul further notes the real possibility of regression or backsliding on the" spiritual journey: "! am astonished at the promptness with which you have turned away from the one who called you." (Ga 1:6). Along with other biblical writers (see Jn o16:12) the Apostle of the gentiles presents a definite conviction of the need for growth or deepen-ing on the spiritual journey. But we will look in vain for any systematic description of a life-pattern of holiness in the Scriptures. Alas, no biblical Erikson has appeared to lead us into this Promised Land. At best we can discern religious situations, spiritual responses to the situations, and recogni-tions that people have not progressed as far as they should have. Secondly, from a purely linguistic and cognitive viewpoint the Scriptures complicate the matter of trying to formulate a coherent theory of spiritual growth. This complication results from the cultural and religious pluralism that lies behind the,early Christian writings: this pluralism results in a variety of central symbols--all concretizing the same Christian wa~y.2~ The New Tes-tament encompasses a variety of goals in the spiritual process: the pascha~l pattern of Christ in us (Paul), the kingdom of God (Jesus), the holiness of God (I Peter), the life.and ministry of Jesus (synoptic gospels). Similarly diver~e are the means to attain these goals: aft active moral love (Paul), the new com-mandments (Matthew), loving knowledge (John) and personal conversion Am I Growing Spiritually? (Jesus). As if this were not enough, one fails to find the least evidence of any systematizing method which would trace the step-by-step procedures of spiri-tual growth through the means to the end. While many later Christian writers have attempted to formulate systematizing examples, they all impose a later schema on the earlier texts,z2 The absence in the New Testament of a step-by-step explanation of spiri-tual deepening should be understandable in a moment's reflection: these canonical writings are occasional pieces, not systematic expositions. Moreover, in the cultural milieu of their composition, subjective spiritual growth was not a high priority: it is our modern viewpoint that has elevated it to a primary concern. And yet the richness of spiritual experience in the Christian heritage does possess an immense wealth in its own right, one that need not be clipped or stretched to fit within our cultural categories of human growth. Methodo-logically, this suggests that a revisionist method of theology, such as the one outlined by David Tracy, should be introduced more forcefully into the realm of spirituality.23 The Christian heritage should challenge" contemporary culture, as well as vice-versa. I would like to suggest one issue which might be pursfiEd in this dialectical exchange. The question should be raised: Does the Christian religious vision even allow that spiritual growth have any single necessary ground-plan? Ought we not consider as a real possibility that the reason it is difficult to find a methodo-logical statement of spiritual growth in the Bible is because there isn't supposed to be one? These writings are open-ended! They provide no abs61ute goal of spiritual growth: they offer no absolute means of holiness: they organize no steps in an absolute methodological pattern. Taken as a collection of accumu-lated experience these writings simply give us a variety of examples of men and women who are "on the spiritual way." Like the parable of the Good Samari-tan which avoids a direct answer to the question: "Who is my neighbor?" the wholel import of the scriptural collection deliberately leaves a great deal of latitude for people to choose their own path. The implied message of the Good Samaritan story, "Be loving and you will recognize your neighbor," may be symbolic of the entire scriptural message. Paul's great theme of freedom in the Galatian letter forcefully accents that same open-endedness. "Before faith came, we were allowed no freedom by the Law . The Law was to be our gua~rdian until Christ came . lqow that that time has come we are no longer under that guardian" (Ga 3:23-25). That warning may be spoken against any absolute plan (including a growth plan) that would shackle human freedom. When Paul pleads with his hearers to be guided by the Spirit (5:26), he is admonishing people to remain open and a

Issue 42.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1983. ; Trends and Issues in Spirituality, 1983 The Service of Religious Authority Negative Feelings--Positive Growth Volume 42 Number 2 March/April, ~983 R~v~J~w t:OR Rt~l.~(;~otJs I ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. RJ~v~!v,' t:o~ R~qt.~(;IotJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. I.ouis. MO. © 1983 by R~v~t~w FOR Rt-zl.~t;Iot~s. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year Ipostage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl.:v~l.:w ~'oR R~:u(;tot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1983 Volume 42 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REv~v:w I,oR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl Io Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; Cily Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from Universily Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbur, MI 48106. Priorities for Religious Pio Laghi Archbishop Laghi is Apostolic Delegate to t~ae United States. His delegation is located at 3339 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.: Washington, DC 20008. This article is the text of his homily at the joint meeting of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, held last August in San Francisco. With great personal interest I have been looking forward to this opportun-ity to lead you in eucharistic prayer and to reflect upon priorities for specially consecrated members of the Christian community. Today's readings provide an indispensable framework for this reflection. While they speak of priorities essential to any form of Christian life, they tell us in.a special way of the priorities of religious life: to respond wholeheartedly to God's call; and to respond by word and witness, equally without reservation, to the pressing hunger--the "famine"---for God's word which is as real today as in the time of Amos. Total Includes Permanent Religious !ife is essentially a total gift of self to the plan of God and to the service of his love, so that it is properly called a total "consecration." You know this well, but you know also that your commitment is renewed and strengthened by reflecting constantly on its meaning. What, then, do we mean by this total consecration which is sealed by religious vows? Everything great is final. All life-determining commitments are irrevocable. Not because they cannot be taken back (plainly they can) but because, making such commitments, we define ourselves as persons and so establish the parameters of success and failure, of generosity and selfishness, not merely for our lives but for our very selves. One of the worst aberrations of our times is the idea that one can be a religious--or a priest or a spouse--for a time. This is the very denial of the gift. 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 Those who adopt this attitude lend themselves but they do not give themselves. "What is essential in the religious vow," says Father Danielou, "is precisely that, by a definitive commitment, you are expressing this profound desire of being totally in the service of God in regard to all the eventualities of radical doubt, of questioning, and of temptation." One might say that in totally handing over his or her life to God, the religious makes with him a permanent bridge, a stable pact, a perpetual alliance. Total Includes Detachment and Attachment The words of Jesus make it clear that this total gift of self involves a two-fold movement: first, setting aside--detaching oneself from--whatever is an obstacle to the girl; second, a continuing act of positive response to the invitation--"Come back and follow me." The rich young man balked at the first step; many do. But it is possible to take this step, yet hang back from the second--"Come back and follow me." It is a permanent challenge for each religious, as for each priest and each Christian, always to renew in the context of daily life this determination to entrust one's destiny and one's self totally to God. Pride hinders us, but there is a more subtle hindrance than pride: the belief, of which we may not b'e fully conscious, that our own insight and discernment are superior--because seemingly more efficacious or even more virtuous--to the imperatives of Christ's summons as mediated to us through the particular way of life to which he has called us. Beyond detachment, one might say, lies abandonment. To take the first step but not the second is to travel only part of the way God wishes us to go. Religious Life as Witness Another fundamental point:the first function of religious life is to wit-ness- Znot to what men and women are capable of, but to what God is capable of. There are many ways of expressing this. Pope Paul Vl, in Evangelii Nunti-andi, put it with special beauty: All evangelizers--and therefore all religious-- he says, are called to be servants of the truth, not merely by speaking of abstract intellectual truth, but.by living and witnessing to God and the things of God "as if they could see the invisible" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 76). How else, in times of spiritual famine, shall we respond to that hunger of which Amos speaks, the "famine. for hearing the word of the Lord"?. One cannot give what one does not have. "At the deepest level of their being," Pope Paul tells us, "[religious] are caught up in the dynamism of the Church's life, which is ~'hirsty for the divine Absolute and called to holiness. It is to this holiness that they bear witness" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Men and women are capable of much that is admirable: of courage and generosity, for example. But what is unique to sanctitY--and to religious life in its role of giving witness--is that it is not the work of men and women, but of the Spirit of God. Sanctity is not humanity at a high level of excellence. It is a radical leap, nothing less than our participation in divine life. Because it is not Priorities for Religious / 163 humanly ostentatious, it speaks all the more powerfully. "Being a challenge to the world and to the Church herself," Pope Paul remarks, "this silent witness of poverty and abnegation, of purity and sincerity, of self-sacrifice in obe-dience, can become an eloquent witness" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Priorities for Religious It is a joy for me to verify the presence and the dynamic activity of so many religious, men and women, in this country--all together about 160,000. They dedicate their lives, not for a time but forever, to God and to the People of God. They are "authentic witnesses of the Gospel," irreplaceable "workers" of evangelization, the most powerful "sign of total availability to God, to the Church, and to the brethren" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Prayer Among the priorities that 1 see for religious in this country, then, is the effort to ensure that prayer is an attitude toward life, so that prayer and life mutually enrich each other. This implies that prayer will lead religious to involve themselves in real life, while real-life experiences call .for intense moments of prayer. Today, as we know, along with the necessary quest for personal prayer, there is a strong concern for community prayer, for sharing one's experience of the faith, growing in one's insight into the evangelical imperatives dictated by one's circumstances, applying the events of the history of salvation, as related in Scripture, to the events of today. How important, too, that religious remain faithful to the sacramental life in its totality. There is no religious life--as there is no sanctity--apart from the Eucharist. Religious life is the expan.sion, the living out, of those energies which the Eucharist develops and nourishes in us. Our prayer must further-more be, visible and a source of encouragement to others; and this is possible through the liturgy, well prepared, well conducted, and well shared. The Social Dimension Another priority arises from awareness that the message we profess and communicate has not only a theological dimension but a social dimension. We preach a Gospel which frees men and women from sin in its roots and manifes-tations. We therefore preach and promote the human dignity and divine filiation of every human being. Preferential Option for the Poor This points to still another priority: the preferential option for the poor. Today religious increasingly find themselves in difficult, marginalized situa-tions: caring for the sick, helping those in need, promoting the rights of victims of discrimination, carrying on humble and self-sacrificing labors of many kinds. This option does not imply thb exclusion of anyone--the spiritual 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 poverty of our contemporary counterparts of the rich young man makes that clear--but it does call for a preference for the oppressed and victimized, and a constant effort to draw closer to them. This preferential option has led religious, and not only religious, to reex-amine traditional works in order to respond better to the requirements of evangelization. It has also shed a clearer light on the relationship between religious life and the poverty of the dispossessed. Beyond interior detachment and community austerity, it implies solidarity with the poor, often expressed by sharing wi~h them their conditions of life. At the same time, while adhering to this option, it is necessary to avoid certain dangers--a lack of adequate preparation, a lack of personal maturity, or a lack of evangelical motivation. At the very least these can imperil the preferential option by causing it to be misinterpreted. Hispanic Involvement There is another priority about which I also feel strongly. It concerns the presence, already substantial and rapidly growing, of so many Hispanics in the United States--their large number (almost twenty-five percent of our Cathol-ics), their religious and human values, their need for full acceptance in the Church and society. In their recent joint pastoral letter, th~ Hispanic bishops of the United States spoke of the "constant rejection" which has been "part of [the] daily life" of their people. Nevertheless, they said, "our parents taught us to love the United ~tates, although the struggle has been difficult. Our people have always struggled to improve themselves. We love the peace founded on truth, justice, love and freedom . We have not taken up arms against our country but instead have defended it. We have fought to eliminate the injusti-ces that rule our lives. The road has been long and difficult, littered with many obstacles, but we have made progress and will continue ahead with firmness and determination" ( The Bishops Speak with the Virgin: A Pastoral Letter of the Hispanic Bishops of the U.S., 1982). Yet, in the words of a Spanish-speak-ing priest of Texas, "there is a certain tendency to look upon the Hispanics as an unavoidable problem. But rejoice and appreciate us. as God's life-bear-ing gift, not only for the enrichment but even for the salvation of our Church and of our world." I recall something T.S. Eliot once said: No one is truly educated unless he or she knows a second language. These are wise words. Only then can one know what it means to be laughed at as one gropes for the right word or stumbles over its pronunciation. Truly, to know another language--in this case, Spanish--is to work for the coming of the kingdom of God and for the service of our brothers and sisters. Integration of Religious into Local and Universal Church A final priority concerns the integration of religious into the life of the local churches and the universal Church. Here, of course, a balance is essential. It Priorities for Religious / 165 was once said that religious life "has no other end but to be at the service of the priest." Plainly, however, religious must defend the specific character of their vocation against attempts, however well intentioned, simply to use them for fulfilling the immediate needs of parishes and dioceses. At the same time, though, there is another side to this coin. Individual religious, as well as their communities, must take special care to be in deep and sincere unity with the Vicar of Christ and with the orientations he gives, especially those which concern religious life or interpret the charisms of the founders of any religious institute. The same applies to their relationship with bishops. As a matter of priority, the norms contained in the Holy See's document Mutuae Relationes should be implemented in order that religious life be fully integrated into the life of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Conclusion Permit me, in concluding, to quote words of Pope John Paul II which draw together many of the themes upon which I have touched. Speaking last May to religious men and women of England and Wales, the Holy Father ob-served that although "to most people you are known for what you do," never-theless "your true greatness., comes from what you are," and that can only be understood "in the light of the 'newness of life' revealed by the Risen Lord." "At some time in your lives," he said, "the call of the Lord to a special intimacy and union with him in his redemptive mission became so clear that you overcame your hesitations. You put aside your doubts and difficulties and committed yourselves to a life of total fidelity to the highest ideals of the Gospel. Your free decision was sustained by grace, and your perseverance through the years is a magnificent testimony to the victory of grace over the forces that struggl~ to tarnish the newness of. your life in Christ . "'l~oday there exists a wid~pread~mptation to unbeliEfanddespair. You, on the other hand, are committed to being men and women of deep faith and unceasing prayer. To you in a particular way may be addressed Saint Paul's exhortation to Timothy: 'Fight the good fight of the faith: take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses' (1 Tm 6:12). "Believe in the Risen Lord. Believe in your own personal vocation. Believe that Christ called you because he loves you. In moments of darkness and pain, believe that he loves you all the more. Believe in your mission within the Church. Let your faith shine before the world, as a lamp in the darkness; let it shine as a beacon that will guide a confused society to the proper appreciation of essential values. May the spiritual joy of your personal lives, and your com-munal witness of authentic Christian love, be a source of inspiration and hope" (Address to Men and Women Religious of England and Wales, May 29, 1982). Religious Life in the Young Churches Jan Snijders, S.M. At the end of 1981, Fr. Snijders finished his term in the general administration of his congrega-tion and has enjoyed a sabbatical for the past year. Presently he is lecturing in philosophy at the interdiocesan seminary of Papua, wfiere his address is: Marist College, Bomana: P.O. Box 1101 ; Boroko; Papua, New Guinea. ~n a periodical that aims at providing a forum for theological and spiritual reflection on religious life one does not have to underline the importance of religious life, and the case of tile Young Churches is not so different as to warrant an exception. The entire Church has become missionary (or should have). The contribution of religious to the mission of the Church and espe-cially their religious consecration itself are to manifest in all churches, young and old, that "the kingdom of God is at hand" (AG, 18; LG, 44). While pontifical and conciliar documents are eloquent on the subject of fostering religious life in the Young Churches, they are prudently vague on how this should be done, on who should do so and on the forms that religious life should take. Religious superiors too are probably very wise to keep things out of the limelight. Growth and adaptation are processes of a delicate nature. Premature publicity and interventions could easily do more harm than good. All of this may explain why so little is being written by private observers or scholars on the~ founding of local re!igious institutes and on the spreading of international institutes in the Young Churches. Still these things are taking place everywhere and a few general remarks can be of use to people trying to make responsible decisions. Are Local Foundations Preferable? Among the many connected questions there is one that especially observers in the "old" churches often bring up: ls it not better to leave the field to local 166 Religious Life in the Young Churches / 167 foundations so that religious life from the beginning can be thoroughly Afri-can, Indian, or whatever the case may be? Before proposing elements of a possible answer we must note that, as a matter of fact, local sisterhoods have been founded nearly everywhere and many are flourishing. Local lay institutes of men are much less numerous, and rare are those that can be said to flourish; in fact, one does not have to be very widely informed to know of several that after the first generation of members have ceased to exist. Practically nonexistent are clerical institutes founded in the Young Churches, with a very few, but notable exceptions. If the long-distance observer's concern for the "contextualization" of reli-gious life is praiseworthy, the assumption that it has a better chance in local institutes is debatable. For every case that substantiates the assumption there may be one that disproves it! Admittedly, a local community is never under pressure from faraway higher superiors to conform to rules and customs that originated in different cultures. But, even so, their first models of religious life were necessarily expatriates and the spontaneous desire of local religious communities to imitate foreign patterns may be a more effective force against what outsiders might conceive of as "contextualization" than pressure of higher superiors possibly could be. Conversely, local members of an interna-tional group are just as likely to carve out an identity of their own by insisting on local adaptations. In any case, those distant higher superiors who sup-posedly insist on foreign rules will in many cases prove to be either mythical figures or memories of a past that has disappeared many years ago! There are good reasons for local institutes, but "contextualization" is a doubtful one. A recent Roman document extolled (and perhaps exaggerated) the value of international religious institutes.~ In any case their importance cannot be doubted: they are able to respond to needs and opportunities across the globe; they provide spiritual renewal where local means fail; they form a network of communion and unity where local Churches become excessively particular; they carry a rich spiritual heritage and have the resources to revitalize it. If in the older churches local communities successfully work alongside of local branches of international ones, it would seem a little patronizing to doubt that this could be so in the Young Churches. Moreover, international institutes allow the Young Churches to take part in fbreign missionary activity (AG, 38). ¯ Local communities have advantages that 1 shall mention further on, but they also have to cope with disadvantages. It is not fair to .demand that local ordinaries (such communities usually are of diocesan right) always manage to strike a perfect balance between rightful concern and respect for internal autonomy. But it means that especially small lay communities at times suffer under interference from one bishop, only to be neglected by his successor.2 Local communities often were founded by a missionary or a bishop to respond to immediate and urgent needs. One cannot expect all founding fathers or mothers to be saints or spiritual giants. With the passing of time needs change and the initial inspiration dries up. For institutes to be flexible 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 and to retain spiritual vigor they need somehow to stay in contact with one of the great spiritual traditions of the Church. For the large orders and congrega-tions it must therefore always be a sacred duty to assist small communities without infringing on their autonomy and identity. "Planning" For The Spirit Much more complicated are the questions that arise when we look at the implantation of international religious orders and congregations. Granting that, in principle, there is a place for them in the Young Churches, one still has to ask whether it is opportune to do so, and under what conditions. But before tackling those questions a more basic one must be answered, namely whether such,matters can and must be "planned" at all. Shouldn't one leave things entirely to the free movements of the Spirit who calls whom he chooses, where he chooses? The religious vocation is an indix~idual gift of God and the receiver has an inalienable right to follow the call of the Lord. The task of superiors, ecclesias-tical and religious, can only be to discern, to respect and to encourage the movements of the Spirit in the hearts of people who feel themselves called. Granted this point of departure, it still remains a fact that God's call usually leads the receiver to ask admission in a particular community, and then the superiors concerned have a right and a duty to decide whether it is for the good of the candidate and of the community to accept her or him. And, in a place where that particular community is not firmly established, that is bound to be a delicate question, especially if it concerns a single applicant, or a very small number. Unless a community is going to be firmly established among the people from whom the applicants come, accepting them carries the risk that they will pass their religious lives as strangers, either permanently in a foreign country or as the lonely locally-born among foreign fellow religious in their own country. Of course people may be called to do just that, but it demands a high measure of psychological balance, of personal maturity, and of spiritual depth. Unless these gifts are clearly present, superiors may have to conclude that the candidate is not called to such an exceptional life. The fact that candidates ask for admission may lead the community to attempt a permanent foundation in their country. Conversely, candidates can be accepted, and even sought, in view of a planned foundation. Whatever the case may be, the decision to establish the order or the congregation in a new country is distinct from the decision to accept a few individual candidates, even if one thing will eventually lead to the other. We have two separate decisions, each to be made on its own merits, and not necessarily by the same people. For one thing, accepting candidates is the responsibility of religious superiors only; starting a foundation needs the agreement of ecclesiastical superiors. My conclusion is that, while we must respectfully follow the movements of the Spirit, we cannot abandon prudent "planning," i.e., weighing changes and consequences whenever candidates are to be admitted and foundations in the Religious ~fe in the Young Churches / 169 Young Churches are considered. The Spirit also asks responsible decision making. Reasons to Hesitate I have started from the assumption that it is not self-evident that all religious orders and congregations should attempt to begin foundations every-where in the Young Churches. I have argued that the matter must not be confused with the question of eventually admitting a few individual candidates but also that, on the whole, there is a place for international institutes within the Young Churches. So why, the initial assumption? Foi several centuries missionary activity Was organized around the so-called ius commissionis whereby missionary territories were entrusted to a missionary or religious institute. This means that usually only one clerical institute was present in a given area and only a very few lay institutes, often in some way related to the ~lerical institute to which the mission was entrusted. Naturally, local candidates to the religious life would usually enter either a local community founded on the spot, or the international institute working there. Now, the former mission territories have gradually become dioceses in their own right, the ius commissionis has disappeared, and a healthy diversifi-cation of missionary and religious institutes has taken the place of the earlier "monopolies." It can now no longer be self-evident that a religious institute will found itself wherever it helps founding the Church. And there can be very good reasons why in certain cases it should not do so. The main reason for this view is the one discreetly hinted at by the Bishops' Conference of Senegal and Mauritania in a Declaration on the Vocational Apostolate of 1978.3 The bishops ask that "in a spirit of generosity, dispersion be avoided." Let us look at this idea of "dispersion." We must admit that life in an intercultural setting is demanding. Generally speaking, people can be expected to feel and to function better at home, and to show a healthier growth among people of their own culture (one advantage of local foundations!). The prob-lems of intercultural communities are still not rod difficult if the "mixture" of cultures is balanced but they become more serious for a small minority in a group that for the rest is solidly of one race, nationality or language. Especially for young people the problems this poses can be nearly insurmountable. The consequences are obvious wherever one is dealing with small Catholic populations. ! do not know of any study that has come to firm conclusions on the question of how many vocations can reasonably be expected to come from a given Catholic population. The variations according to country and period of history are considerable, but clearly there are limits. If the religious voca-tions of a small Catholic population are spread over a disproportionate number of religious institutes, then many of the locally-born religious will for-ever be minorities among the foreign missionaries. "171~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 Will those religious be able to cope with the stresses of this situation? Will, in the communities that have such minorities, the groups of local people ever grow large enough to reach what could be called "critical mass," i.e., a group large enough to spark creativity and lead to genuine indigenization of religious life? Finally, what happens if the international institute has to withdraw from the country, for lack of vocations at home, for political reasons, or whatever? Will the few locally-born members leave with the foreigners? Will they be left stranded by themselves? The situation is far from imaginary. One example may illustrate what dispersion can look like. Before the war eleven clerical religious orders and congregations entered Japan. In 1981.all but one had Japanese priests among their members. Between 1947 and 1958 sixteen other clerical institutes followed them into Japan and in 1981 twelve of those had Japanese priests among their members, in the following proportions and absolute members:4 Entered Before the War Entered After the War 87.5% = 21out of 24a 71.1% = 4 out of 7 84 %= 21 out of 25 31%=9out of 29 82.6% = 43 out of 52 28.5%=4out of 14 78.9%= 15 out of 19 25 %= 3outof12 50 %= 4out of g 21.4%= 3out of 14 44.8% = 78 out of 174 20.8% = 5 out of 24 43.3% = 39 out of 90 20 %=2outofl0 43.1%=41 out of 95 19 %=8out of 42 33.8% = 91 out of 277 17.3% = 4 out of 23 9.4%= 5outof 53 I1.1%= 1 outof 9 ai.e. 21 Japanese priests 6.6% = I out of 15 out of 24 priests in 3.1% = 2 out of 64 Japan In all but one of the pre-war set the Japanese priests are in the majority or form substantial and viable minorities. In the post-war set the Japanese members are, both proportionately and in absolute numbers, in far from promising situations. It cannot be without significance that.for the same year the institutes of the first set mention that they have together 83 members studying for the priestho6d, respectively (in the same order as above): 0, 1,9, I, 0, 8, 19, ! 1, 25, 9. The institutes of the second set register together eleven students, spread over four institutes. The other eight have none at all. It is not reasonable to expect the picture to change substantially. Already the vocation rate in Japan is "exceptionally high (but going down): more than 850 Japanese priests (diocesan and regular) in a Catholic population of about 400,000. The rate is still higher if we take into account the preponderance of Japanese women over men in the Church. Similar dispersion could probably be registered among lay religious in Japan. The clear division between pre-war and post-war entries is perhaps particu-lar to Japan but it must be far from the only place where serious dispersion is taking place. Unfortunately very few places have such splendid publications as Religious Life in the Young Churches / 171 the Japan Catholic Directory and reliable information is scarce. A Matter of Criteria If there is a place in the new churches for international religious institutes but not everywhere for all of them, choices must be made and criteria are needed: What factors constitute reasons for or against an eventual foundation? Firstly, we must take into account what has already been said about the danger of dispersion: What is the size of the Catholic population and how many institutes already exist among them? Is there room for more? Or is the area "saturated"?. One does not need hard and fast rules to make a prudent assessment. Secondly, an institute must take stock of its resources for the formation of eventual candidates. Wouldn't it be presumptuous to admit candidates if one does not have the personnel and the means to offer them a good spiritual and professional formation? And it cannot be assumed that a solid formation can ordinarily be given by sending young people to a foreign country, or by entrusting them to formators who are not familiar with the candidates' culture. The fact that this has been done in the past and that it has been known to succeed does not ~jusify doing it on a general scale: The failure of those experi-ments cannot be overlooked. Faced with the decision whether or not to seek and admit candidates, an-institute must honestly ask itself, especially today, if it has the personnel to maintain an adequate presence in the host country for a long enough period of time. A careful look at how long it has taken new provinces in the past to reach "cruising speed" and assure self-sustained growth can help to make an intelli-gent guess. By way of target figure l would propose that a clerical institute must reckon with a good twenty-five years before the local religious can reasonably be expected to carry on withou( substantial outside support. Lay institutes may not need that much time. The already mentioned Declaration of the Bishops of Senegal and Mauri-tania says that an institute should have a substantial presence in the country. But what is "substantial"?. I am inclined to think that their presence can just as easily be too big as too small. The founding community must of course be large enough to show diversity of talents and personalities. Each person's weaknesses must be balanced out by the strengths of others and candidates must be presented with an ample range of models. But if the founding com-munity gets a little too large then the chances are that it lacks buoyancy and that it has too many other interests besides founding. Especially important is the minoriO, effect. In a large group of expatriates the locally-born religious remain for too long a minority; the foreigners' ways remain normative; locals waste their energy fighting for room and their creativity is not given enough scope. The last point varies with the way the founding group is composed. If all are of the same home country, the minority effect on the locals is all the more stifling. Any group of people of the same background, living together in 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 a foreign country, tends to cultivate their common memories and cultural traits more than they ever would at home. In spite of the most noble intentions they often are, unwittingly, quite intolerant of local ways. An international group on the contrary that has proved to be able to function together has great advantages--the locals soon find their own niche. The minority effect is mini-mized: everyone is a minority, thus no one is. A religious community that believes in its spiritual heritage naturally seeks to expand. This general framework however can carry incidental traits that provide important indications as to the viability of an eventual "implantation" project. A missionary group actually engaged in one of the Young Churches, seeing that no replacements or reinforcements can be expected from the home province or the order as a whole, turns to local vocations in the hope of ensuring the continuity of its works. But this complex of attitudes must raise doubts about their ability to take in local vocations. Are they not too much preoccupied with their past achievements? Does the search for security not play too large a role? ls the specifically "religious" commitment central enough in their lives? Religious communities and superiors in the older churches that see the former flow of vocations dry up can be tempted by tales of plentiful vocations in some faraway place (even if true). Add a touch of cultural romanticism about our "decadent Western civilization" and about "the spiritual youth of unsophisticated people" and the scene is set for another unfortunate experi-ment. It may sound harsh but the general rule should be that religious who do not project their enthusiasm at home and who do not attract young people of their own culture to follow them, should not attempt to do so either among young people of another culture. This is not a matter of inviting negative comments on the motivations of religious either at home or in the foreign missions, but simply a matter of objective appraisal of their suitability to undertake a particularly demanding task. These criteria add up to a formidable list! No situation is ever going to be hundred-per-cent perfect. Still, the community that accepts young members in a new country takes on a grave responsibility. The picture as a whole must be fairly favorable to justify going ahead. It is not the kind of project that asks for bold ,risks: The generosity of young people and the future of religious life in the emerging churches is at stake. Conclusion Religious institutes belong to the life of the Church. They provide their members with ways to follow Christ. Religious discover in their own lives and show others that the kingdom of God is at work here and now. Every culture, like every individual, is in need of conversion.5 Therefore religious institutes should be present in all the churches in the diversity that is part of their charism (PC, 1; ND, I1, 12, 29). But unless this program is implemented with great care, we risk defeating our purpose and Religious ~fe in the Young Churches / "173 people of good will would suffer the consequences. This article does not pretend to have touched on all the aspects of religious life in the New Churches. It will have attained its goal if the problems involved receive a little more attention and, when choices are to be made, problems would be discussed in realistic and open exchange. NOTES ~ Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, 23rd of April 1978 signed by Paul VI. Quoted as "ND.". -'See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 1980, pp. 122-123. ~ Dbclaration des Evbques du Sbnbgal et de la Mauritanie sur la Pastorale des Vocations, Dakar, 13 July, 1978, p. 4. 4These figures are based on information contained in the Japan Catholic Director.v, 1981, with minor adjustments where different tables did not quite agree. 5Cardinal Pironio, Message aux Religieux et Religieuses d'Afrique, Informationes SCRIS, 1978, II, p. 279. NOW AVAILABLE From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Currents in Spirituality A God for a Dark Journey: Trends and Issues in Spirituality, 1983 George Aschenbrenner, S.J. This is Father Aschenbrenner's fourth annual survey of the field of spirituality. He now resides in St. Alphonsus House, a residence for Jesuits at St. Joseph's University. The address is 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 1913 I. This is the fourth in a series of articles--appearing annually--which the editor asked for with a view to exploring and reflecting upon currents in American spirituality. Last year's articlO gave extensive space to a description of the larger context and environment within which, in my judgment, the spiritual trends an~d issues discussed were developing. That major influence and context, within which all American spiritual life is being lived, was seen to be secularization--rapid, continuing secularization. The lengthy first part of last year's article sought clearly to distinguish between what it viewed as a necessary and very healthy dynamic--seculariza-tion- from its pervasive and very destructive alternative--secularism. This present article is, fundamentally, a continuation of last year's perspective and approach. It directly assumes and builds further upon that reflection on secu-larization and secularism. I would suggest, then, that the reader may be helped to read the opening sections of last year's article. I take this approach because I remain persuaded that, from many different angles, there continues to be a concern and struggle in American spirituality to balance on the tightrope of this secularizing trend in our contemporary faith life while avoiding the easy missteps that lead, whether gradually or abruptly, into secularism. Besides the overarching theme of secularization, the concrete, specific trends and issues themselves which are reflected on here also relate this article 174 A God for a Dark Journey somewhat to last year's reflections. This is so--not surprisingly--because our important experiences, and what we manage to make of them with God's grace, are generally in continuity even while, at the same time, our spiritual life really grows and really changes. In some cases, therefore, trends and issues treated here are obviously direct developments of topics discussed before. In other cases, though the trend or issue 1 am writing about now may appear new, reader's closer reflection will show that, whether explicitly or implicitly, the matter actually relates to the same basic theme: our spiritual struggle as American Christians to incarnate the life and love of God in our rapidly secularizing world. 1. The God of Darkness and Suffering Our rapidly secularizing and highly technological world can be very decep-tive and misleading. In most of the world we have available light of whatever color and intensity we choose all through the day and night, No more dark-ness. Computers, cameras, radios and recorders seem to promise constant companionship and communication. No more isolation. And yet, together with all this garish light and constant talk, there is a lingering and growing sense of darkness, of alienation, impoverishment and loneliness. For a while this past year we could read of three actual wars in the papers each day: in the Falklands, in Iraq, and in Lebanon. Though the inevitable destruction and carnage of those wars was disguised and muted temporarily, gradually the terrible details came to be revealed. Slowly but stubbornly our troubled economy has been squeezing not only comfort and convenience, but hope and life out of many of the jobless poor in this country. Most of the world events and concerns mentioned in last year's article continue to be active among u's.2 This suffering and violence often visit a despairing darkness and sense of emptiness upon the human soul. To find God in this darkness and emptiness is a growing challenge. Because, for most of us, God is more obviously associated with light, fullness, wholeness, with the beautiful richness of being, people today have more of a sense of forsakenness and abandonment in their experience of the empty darkness. Nor will the immediate future, of our secular world bring a sudden evaporation of this darkness and alienation. Rather than attempting to escape the darkness, therefore, we must learn to look deeper into it, to find God present everywhere--and always a God of personal love and intimate care. The negative, or apophatic, element in our experience of God, then, may be taking on more practical importance today in spirituality. As David Rast has said: "Only if we can know the God whose transcendent greatness allows him to be 'no-where,' can we gradually experience our God as always 'now-here.'" This is the approach of Pseudo-Dionysius, of The Cloud of Unknow-ing, which leads beyond the surface light of God's love into the depths of a darkness of faith where the God of loreand light is experienced in a great 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 simplicity of presence and faith. The experience needed here is the one I described in last year's article as the protection against secularism. Now l~think we are facing some specific implications of this experience of God. If we do not settle for a God who is too small, then we can find a God of light, fullness, wholeness and beauty in the pervasive darkness, emptiness, fragmentation and horror of our world and of our hearts. A God whose greatness and majesty can make human hearts tremble in awesome wonder is also so inextricably involved in this world that the intimacy of love in Jesus can quiet human hearts even in the most fearsome and trying situations. As events in our world and in our personal lives shock and strip us to the very core of our being, we must, rather than despairing and falling into an unreal world either of denial or of naive optimism, learn to plumb the depths tofind the God who holds all being, and so each of us, in existence. In the depths of a heart experiencing pitch-darkness or crass evil or chilling emptiness, there is present a God without whom being and existence cannot be. And this God, our God, is always love. It is the God whose love and care were always present to Jesus on Calvary, even when he sensed a chilling absence. We are now struggling, and we will continue to struggle, to find what Louis Dupr6 calls The Deeper Life.3 We need to discover the God whose pervasive and intimate love is finally revealed more fully through the negations of an apophatic spirituality, that same love which, like a quiet flame at the center of all being, is sometimes experienced.like a torch for great zeal, at other times like a white heat apparently consuming while actually laying bare the divine center of our true identity. Dupr+ describes the attitude involved in this pro-found experience of God: "Unconditional trust without knowing what it is we trust, willingness to let go without knowing whether anyone will ever catch us, preparedness to wait without knowing whether we will be met.~Total looseness and unconditional trust are the virtues negative theology teaches us to culti-vate. There could be no more appropriate lesson in our time.TM 2. The Temple of the Human Heart In a rapidly secularizing world, public life provides less and less of the genuinely religious. Shrines and temples seem useless. The decay of their buildings speaks of a dead past. Christendom, it would seem, has long since died and does not offer even a desirable ideal any more. The world and society are no longer built or structured according to a Christian vision, nor, for that matter, according to any genuinely religious vision. For many people, this seems no great loss. But for the person of faith and religious sensitivity, the situation presents a great challenge. Realizing the futility of trying to turn back contemporary developments, to return to a past age's forms of public religious expression, we see that we are being invited instead to enter the temple of our own hearts. It is not enough, though, that the ontological reality of every human heart makes it actually a temple of God. We need consciously to app.reciate this, to cooperate actively A God for a Dark Journey / 177 with the adornment of this uniquely personal temple. Without a sense of itself as this personal religious temple, the heart's faith can die as it falls prey to secularism. This temple of the human heart, however, cannot be wholly an inward reality. It must find some appropriate externalization. The inner sanctuary, of course, mus~ be highly personal and intimately religious--a profound meeting of God and of our truest self. And yet, while profoundly personal and inti-mately unique, this inner temple ought not promote a closed individualism. The human heart where God lives and is adored and loved cannot become a church unto itself. The God who is known and reverenced in our own hearts is at once the source of, and the invitation to, community, the community of the human family and the community of the Church.This religious temple of the heart, if its air is to remain healthy and invigorating, will require, especially in a secularistic, religionless world, some appropriate external aids, like the desig-nated chapel of a religious community or a special place in one's own room, and a special time set aside for regular prayer. When the human heart has thus become a carefully provisioned temple of the Lord, the person has also become capable of an inner life of quiet intimacy and peace everywhere, whether it be in a bustling subway, or in the solitary confinement of a jail, or in the dangerous crowding of a refugee-boat or on the death-bed of a cancer patient. At times our hearts will be temples of bright light focusing on a God joyfully imaged and named in Jesus. At other, catas-trophic and confusing times, this temple will be darkened, housing a God temporarily nameless and unknown. In either atmosphere, this templeis a place where we bend low in quiet awe and in reverently trustful abandonment to a Love that fires ministry for God's justice in our world. This profound inner life o~ personal religious experience will be increas-ingly necessary as we move to the future. And it is always available, because of that God whom Jesus spoke of as seeing and rewarding all hidden gestures of love: "Let it be a secret between you and your Father. And your Father who knows all secrets will reward you.'~ Karl Rahner, in an article entitled "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," sums up this trend and its issue: "It has already been pointed out that the Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all. If by mysticism we mean., a genuine experience of God emerging from the very heart of our existence, this statement is very true and its truth and importance will become still clearer in the spirituality of the future.'~ 3. To lk Peoplg of the Church Many people continue to grapple with the role of the Church in their Christian identity. Whether these be earnest novices in a religious congrega-tion, serious students in a seminary or college, or young people just returned from some volunteer service and about to enter into a parish, the issue is always the same: in living a genuine and generous love for God, how much 171t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 must one be a person of the Church? And the issue centers on the institutional Church. Can I stand for, and identify myself (maybe in some necessarily special way) with this international institution that is the Catholic Church? It is a matter of conscience for some whether they can identify with some of the practices and policies of the Church. Many, while believing in God and living generous lives of service, either explicitly reject membership in the Church or effectively live their religion without any real relationship to the Church. This is a complicated matter, but one that must be ~faced by the whole spectrum of Church membership, from pope and bishop to parishioner in the pew. A specific cause, or combination of different causes, can raise the issue critically for different persons: a domineering clerical attitude encountered; monotonous, uninformed preaching; a successful remarriage after divorce; the prohibition of women's ordination--or maybe even the prohibition of their service as lectors; and many other reasons. For an increasing number of people, practices within the institutional Church which they perceive to be unjust are making membership in the Church more and more painful and questionable. To the query as to how much one must identify with the institu-tional Church, answers would range far and wide. Some would almost identify the Church with the institution, while others would play down the institution to almost no significance--and thus would think the entire question otiose. A "sense of Church" must be reclaimed for many people. For the fully Christian mind and heart, the mystery of God in Christ Jesus, and therefore the mystery of the whole human family, is incarnational and communal--and universal. All this says community. And not just sect, either--but Church. But we must all be concerned that it be a Church that is attractive, inspiring, demanding, inviting. The development of such a Church that others can believe in will continue to be the task of us all. The Church on all levels of its membership must continue to struggle for a more genuine following of Jesus in our world. Some gather regularly into small groups to share life and faith and find support in community. This can begin to provide an experience of community which is at the core of Church. But it does not, in the long run, suffice. To see the glory of God in a weak, human Church, struggling in the Spirit,'is never easy. It requires a stubborn hope, the hope of a genuine love, sometimes, surely, critical, but always a lover of the Church.7 4. An Expansive Ministry Born in Forgiveness Especially iri religious life, but also throughout the whole Church, it is getting more and more difficult to find people competent and willing to under-take ministries of difficult responsibility. In religious life, some major superiors speak of a crisis of leadership. They speak of a lack of available and suitable men and women for the challenging roles of leadership either in the religious community itself or in the apostolic works of the community. It may be a formation director; the pastor of a new black or Hispanic parish, a third-world mission assignment or a superior in a larger community. But the issue is always A God for a Dark Journey the same: men and women to fulfill these challenging tasks. We have renewed our concept of the role-model for a religious superior and for the leader of our apostolic works. But it is difficult to find men and women suitable and willing to undertake such missions. Among the consequences of this leadership crisis, paramount is the inter-ference it is causing with the service that religious communities could otherwise render in the world. This leadership need is not to maintain past, outmoded structures, but rather to inspire and facilitate more unified and effective service in response to new, serious challenges facing the Church in today's world. Is this leadership failure a result of faulty formation? This is a question worthy'of reflection on the part of all of us. And it must be answered carefully. The profound renewal of contemporary religious formation has involved a necessary development in a direction quite different from the past. The stress on individual responsibility and careful respect for the gifts and talents of the individual has correctly tailored formation programs increasingly to the strengths and weaknesses of each individual. But while moving in this person-oriented direction, we have not, perhaps, maintained or developed as well as we might that healthy sense of self-abnegation which would allow an individ-ual to be truly available for more of the service-needs of the religious group. This is a necessary correction/refinement of contemporary formation that we now recognize and can implement. In an earlier article, I called this the devel-opment of a more refined Christian personalism which would help us recog-nize and transform the very real, though subtle, self-serving tendencies in all our hearts,s ° As we ponder the difficult ministries facing us now and in the future, we must remember that all genuine ministry is rooted in devotion. Ministry is neither something carelessly superimposed from above, nor somethifig nar-rowly limited to an individual's comfort and convenience.Devotion here is not some emotional pietism. Rather, it is the experiential capacity to find God-- something that runs much deeper than emotion and feeling. Formation pro-grams should provide a great diversity of experiences, in order to stretch the person's capacity for devotion far beyond what might have been originally expected. If an individual's ability to find God is too narrowly limited, that person's lack of availability for service can easily become a future liability. This trained, experiential ability to find God in various ministries and situations always involves a kind of self-transcendence. This transcendence is made possible thrbugh an abnegation of self which is motivated and inspired by an experience of the greatness of God's love for me, The goodness of God's love is exhilarating and expansive, attracting the human heart beyond nar-rowly self-centered concerns. Heroism for God is born here. But without a growing mortification, one that is not destructive but revelatory of our true self in God, the devotion of finding the expansive joy of God's love in many future ministries simply is not possible. Another aspect of this crisis of leadership for ministry is our ebbing expe- 1~10 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 rience of forgiveness. Forgiveness is meant to be the birthplace of great zeal for ministry. God's gratuitous forgiveness sets off a dynamic which turns the heart outward for service. To be forgiven beyond one's wildest dream is not some-thing to be kept to oneself, but becomes a life of service of others. The greater the sense of forgiveness, the greater and more expansive will be the zeal of devotion for finding God in ministry. But a trend I mentioned three years ago continues to haunt us in this whole matter of a vigorous availability for ministry which is essentially rooted in the religious experience of forgiveness? and it is this. We remain timid and con-fused in our admission of personal sin. As we continue to grow out of an unhealthy, Jansenistic, legalistic sense of sin (especially in the sexual realm), we are left with a vacuum, since we have not yet properly assimilated a healthy sense of social sin or personal sin (also in the sexual realm). Fears of self-hatred and unhealthy guilt still dull our sensitivity to the healthy guilt and shame that are always part of the grace of a forgiving God seeking out the sinner. But so long as our past leaves us confused and quite unresponsive to our present sinfulness, we cannot experience the full dynamic of God's forgiveness in our hearts. And it is only an acknowledged sinner, humbled in the truth of forgive-ness, who receives.from God an expansive zeal for ministry. The effect of a shallow experience of forgiveness finally registers in minis-try. If one is not driven to ministry through forgiveness, one can fabricate one's own ministry in too selfish a manner. Rather than receiving a ministry from God in the devotion of forgiveness, a person can cling to a ministry with an angry arrogance and impatience that often speaks of improving and aggrandiz-ing oneself rather .than serving the needs of others. Further, this experience of being humbled in the truth of one's sin and God's forgiveness is always an important sign distinguishing a true prophet from a false prophet. In these days when prophecy is a more noticed phenomenon among us than before, and when we are in need of the inspiration of true prophets, we cannot forget that the true prophet is forged in the zeal and humility of forgiveness. 5. A New Way of "Making" Catholics Any remedy for the deficient sense of personal sinfulness mentioned in the previous trend will require much more than our renewed rite for the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation. This renewed rite, in practice now for about eight years, though it is an improvement, has obviously not by itself renewed the experience many people have of God's forgiveness. What is needed is a whole catechesis to help people recognize in their own hearts the dynamic of receiving God's gift of forgiveness. This raises the issue of how Catholics are formed and trained, raised in the faith these days. It is a matter of how people over a lifetime continue to enter the Church. There seems to be a great change occurring here which will have tremendous implications for the future. Most of us were raised in a Catholic school system where we had drilled into us the essentials and practices of A God for a Dark Journey / 1111 Catholic life. But things have changed. There are not nearly as many religious serving as teachers as before. Many parish schools have closed. And besides, many of those simple, clear essentials of Catholic life are not so simple and clear any more. As formal Catholic schooling becomes less and less available, CCD and other methods of religious education take on greater importance. Often in the past CCD was not very effective. It was.perceived as a definite second-best to the parochial school. But that view is slowly changing, and it must continue to change. As the whole procedure and atmosphere of formal schooling become less and less the way of handing on faith, new replacements must be instituted. Genuinely Catholic believers will never sprout fully grown from the ground. Besides learning the doctrines of faith, young people must receive a feel for the faith life. They must be allowed to admire it as they see it lived and shared by others. As Michael Warren, an expert in youth ministry, claims: Young per-sons need the fidelity of adults who care for them.~° The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults has received very good press. Some have called it "a revolutionary document" as it ritualizes a process of initiation into the Church which "gives first priority to the mystery of God's love for us.TM It can also be used as a guide in the baptism of infants.12 While this document expresses a better view of Church and ritualizes much better the process of initiation into the Church, its effectiveness will very much depend on the proper attitudes of priests and laity, and the availability of enough competent, generous, committed adults. Only in this way will the words of the document come to life as an ongoing process of initiation, a real catechumenate, which can help transform both how we "make" Catholics and what genuine Catholic life will look like in the future. RCIA, then, over a period of years, can play a large role in the formation of Catholics, but it cannot dispense us from the serious experimentation needed to discover and develop other forms of religious education that will be effective formatively on persons through their young years and on into their adulthood. I do not want to be misunderstood. I am not calling for the abolition of all Catholic schools. 1 am, rather, reflecting in the context of the actual situation that faces us now. The cos( of private religious education continues to escalate even as we struggle for tax credits to cover some of the expense. And the number of parochial and private schools continues to decrease. In this situa-tion, we must find a viable replacement for handing on Catholic faith, for helping our young people to grow up in that faith. Both in the schools that remain and in new religious education programs, the role of competent, enthu-siastic lay people continues to grow in importance. And this brings us to our next trend. 6. The Growing Vocation of the Lay Person We need to broaden our understanding and usage of the word "vocation." 182/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 One Often hears the worried question: "Do you think we'll have enough voca-tions?" The question clearly limits the concern to priestly and religious voca-tions. In breaking out of this past narrow understanding, we need to help others to see that living a serious faith life involves for everyone a vocation to service in the Church. It is not only priests and religious who have a vocation. Again, the lay vocation itself can be viewed too narrowly, as Archbishop Bernardin has cautioned: "Sometimes the impression is given that if a lay person wishes to become involved in the Church's mission, he or she must always be specially trained to become, in effect, a kind of professional within the Church. This view of lay ministry, I believe, is too narrow.''~ As a broader sense of vocation develops and spreads, I think we will never know exactly how many vocations (in the narrower sense) are "enough." But we will cooperate much more in all sorts of Christian ministries--and so we will feel much less shorthanded. Attitudinal changes, however, among some clergy especially, and among some lay people, too, are needed before that older limited view of vocation is transformed into a vision of great collabora-tion on all levels of the Church. Both the need for and the supply of well-educated, committed lay men and women continue to grow. More and more lay men and women are needed both to share and to implement the religious vision that must shape the curriculum of our Catholic schools, as well as to exercise other ministries in parishes and dioceses. A growing number of competent people are available for all these posts. And, increasingly, they are men and women who are hungry for an adult, inspiring and integrating spirituality. If these people are not to be forced to search for this spirituality even outside the Church, we must find ways of responding to this hunger. And this assistance must be largely centered in the parish. In no way does this exclude the use of special spiritual centers, retreat houses, or programs that are outside the boundaries of the parish. But these mhst always be complemented by a lived sensE, within the parish, of the presence of spiritual growth and challenge manifested in things like the quality of homilies, small discussion groups and a strongly collaborative response to the missionary needs both within and beyond the parish. Dolores Leckey, executive director of the U.S. Bishops' Secretariat for the Laity, lists among the primary needs of the laity: "a place to tell the truth, the experience of being listened to with respect, a chance to minister in ecclesial or designated ministry, and affirmation of the secular lay vocation and support of that vocation through theological education and in-depth spiritual formation." She sees these needs calling forth three needed attitudes in the ordained priest: com-mitment and community, interdependence in ministry, and willingness as opposed to willfulness.~4 For many of these lay men and women, the fundamental vocation to which they are called is the noble and glorious one of raising a good Christian family. I have written before on the precarious state of the family and the challenges with which this situation confronts us.~ Without repeating all those A God for a Dark Journey / 11t3 points again, my concern here is simply to face and restate the need for holy, self-sacrificing men and women to give themselves to raising a family. In a culture tending more to self-centered comfort and convenience, this ideal of raising a family tends to lose some of its glow. In fact, how many young people, once they finally decide to marry, actually plan on having a family? It is hard, though, to know how pervasive this attitudinal-shift away from raising a family really is. The vocation of a mother and father, with its own unique suffering and sacrifice, ought never seem "ordinary." It is a great, glorious vocation, and one vitally essential to the future of the Church and of the human race. Talented and dedicated young men and women must be helped to see that raising a family is truly a "vocation" in the Church. A theology and spirituality of the family must continue to be developed for the contemporary world and Church. Only with continuing reflection and careful cooperation on the part of husband' and wife can their raising of a family become integrated with, and be a powerful, creative means for furthering, their own profession and sense of self-worth. And the legitimate, essential struggle for women's rights .must not be allowed to create a condescending scorn for the women whose life, for so many years, is spent at home raising a fa'mily. To co-create with God, and daily to reveal God's love to children, is an exalted vocation--one that gives profound joy and binds parents in deeper love through sacrifice. 7. Public Witness to a Gospel Spirituality Which Prescinds from All Political Ideology The Church has been taking more and more stands on social questions over the past three years. A quick review of the weekly issues of Origins would show how often the National Conference "of Catholic Bishops has testified before various congressional committees over this same period. Some names of church men and women have almost become household words on various social issues, in this country and beyond. Nuclear disarmament, international concern for human rights, aid to El Salvador, an anti-abortion amendment, ~nd the abolition of the death penalty are but a few of the issues that have drawn public statements from various bodies within the Church. I would guess that, as the Church's social consciousness continues to grow, there will be need in the future for even more public stands. There is a serious danger here, though, something that could corrupt the Church's whole approach to social issues, both in this country and throughout the world. Some of the stands that the Church is taking and will be called upon to take may well coincide with the stands of different political ideologies and parties, whether Marxist or capitalist, Democratic or Republican. But the Church's stands must always clearly be and be seen to be conclusions of a gospel spirituality which prescinds from any and all political ideologies as such. One can, these days, hear someone speak strongly for international human rights or for nuclear disarmament, or for any other social issue, but 184 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 who does so in such a way as to become clearly involved with a specific political ideology. When people hear such talk, they often, and quite reason-ably, wonder how a speaker of another political view would address the same topic. When the speaker's viewpoints are given in such a partisan manner, any gospel vision, if expressed at all, simply has to lose much of its force. And so the gospel witness is blunted for the listener. A specific political orientation of the speaker can, therefore, distract from the power of a position which he or she sincerely intends to incarnate gospel spirituality. To be identified too closely with a political ideology, rather than to be and act as a person of the Gospel, distracts people from what can be the power of various public stands of the Church. To be ready to take such stands requires that the individuals involved in these issues continue to take the means necessary to grow in and live more profoundly a gospel spirituality. In its first version of the pastoral letter on peace and war, the National Conference of Catholic Bishops claimed that "war, especially the threat of nuclear war, may well be the central problem.of our age." Within the past two years much energy and effort has resulted in a gradual development of sensitiv-ity and consensus, not 0nly on the part of the bishops, but also, though more slowly and perhaps less perceptibly, on the part of the Catholic faithful. How extensive this consensus will become, and whether it will prevent a serious division among the faithful at the publication of the final version of the pastoral letter, perhaps this spring, are hard to predict. But the different titles of the first two versions of the pastoral letter do manifest some of this devel- ¯ opment: "God's Hope in a Time of Fear" becomes "The Challenge of Peace~ God's Promise and Our Response." Some commentators have seen the first version as inviting Catholic theologians to develop a true theology of peace, and the second version, in response to an avalanche of helpful criticism, as an actual contribution to such a theology. Joseph O'Hare's words seem very sound and sensible: "In the end, the process may prove more important than the document it produces."16 The dialogue, debate and honest confrontation of different positions, at times quite heated, seem a work of the Spirit painfully forming a clarity and consensus that can challenge not only the consciences of Catholics, but also the difficult decisions of those responsible for the peace policies of our country. This complicated issue of the use and even possession of nuclear weapons must be both carefully scrutinized and evaluated, ultimately, in terms of an explicitly gospel vision of reality. The bishops must speak, and must be seen to speak, from a different vision than those who simply work within "liberal" or "conservative" ideologies or categories. The seriousness of the issue, which may be honestly summarized as the very survival of the human race, deserves the most careful s~arching out and testing of consensus within the American Catholic community. It must be a consensus based on our richest moral consciousness. To settle for any minimal, least-common-denominator position would be to default on the spiritual leadership that is required of the bishops A God for a Dark Journey by their position in our faith community. In many different ways we can be instructed by this process. It can teach the bishops, and the rest of us as well, about appropriate ways of reading and facilitating the Spirit's formation of a faith-consensus within our community. It can instruct us about what shall have to go ihto the future meaning of an internationally accountable, authentic patriotism. It can help us learn expe-rientially about the essentially important matter of unity and division within the American Catholic Church in the face of a great public issue which is moral as well as utterly pOlitical. Religion, and not just moral perspectives, shall have to be part of what we are taught. A profound and comprehensive peace, which God's love as revealed in a crucified Son can bring to human hearts, is what alone makes possible genuine conversion and love within the whole human family. This peace of God is the heart of the matter. And Jesus is God's victorious promise of this peace. Iksides this crucial issue of peace and war, there are other aspects of our concern for justice to be mentioned here. As we continue to increase our concern for justice, there can be a tendency to become too narrow in vision and even to exaggerate the justice issue--even though it very rightly continues to grow in importance. And again, lest 1 be misunderstood here, let me reassert that I do realize how very far many of us have to go in developing a true sense of justice, letting it influence the dedication of our Christian lives,t7 However, as can happen with almost any issue, we can so stress orthopraxis that our concern becomes chiefly the need for immediate action on behalf of social justice rather than with developing a vision which can enlighten and invigorate all the works of the Church, and not simply her social works. For example, in the work of a professional in higher education, besides direct social service when this is possible, there are many other means for inculcating in students attitudes for service and long-range social change. Professors who do not manipulate or dominate, but who serve their students by staying alive to their subject, who keep their classes well prepared and challenging, are very directly promoting justice. A view which would suggest that direct social service is the best, if not the only way that higher education can serve God's justice in this world, would seem a far too narrow, and therefore false, position on what is involved in the "integral promotion of justice." A similar exaggeration of the justice issue can overlook the spirituality that is needed to give force to any social concern. Though most of us still have a long way to go. in sensitizing our hearts to God's call for justice, I wonder whether, for some who have decidedly moved their center of gravity in the direction of their own social involvement, the challenge now is to find and maintain a viable spirituality within the new central thrust of their lives. A flurry of social work is not enough. Christian commitment to the works of justice must spring from a profound sense of God's love always at work and most dramatically promised in Jesus' Calvary experience of dying into a full- 11~6 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 ness of life and love. Among religious, an extreme tendency can yield to the temptation of settling for what Johannes Metz has called the political dimension of each of the vows, without a struggle on the part of the religious to integrate the mystical with the political dimension so as to develop an organic life of con-cerned service.~s The struggle for justice can also become unfocused and lose its gospel foundation if it forgets the mutual interaction between those internal, individ-ual, more personal dimensions and the external, social dimensions in our human world. This struggle for justice must always involve the careful balance and interplay between the evangelization of individual hearts and the forma-tion of a just-world society. Concerns about stealing, cheating, abortion and sexual immorality must always be carefully related to concerns of international human rights, nuclear disarmament, politics and economic justice. Some indi-viduals, some religious communities and other Church groups who are labor-ing nationally and internationally for justice and liberation, must be careful lest they seem caught up in liberal causes for the day which claim to pursue a systemic social justice without enough concern for the conversion and sanctifi-cation of individual hearts. A just society will always require more than any mere political and economic system. The justice and liberation we are con-cerned with here is Of God. It is God's sanctification and liberation of human hearts in Jesus.~9 But this is a liberation that can only be incarnated in our world through humanly cooperative analysis, planning and action. The sense and grace of its being God's work through us can never become empty theory, but must always throb in the veins of the apostle for justice. Liberation ~heology must always be energized by a spirituality of liberation?° This difficulty of keeping the ihdividual and the social, the internal and the external in proper balance runs deep in the modern mind. The issue is too extensive to be treated here and will surely not be changed overnight. But it needs urgent, serious attention. In a world overly interpreted by scientism there is, of course, little or nothing beyond the physical. Metaphysics has fallen on tough times. What you see is not only what you get, but it is all there is, in this modern view. This development of modernity has a long philosophical history reaching back at least to the sixteenth century, and developing through the Enlightenment. It is an issue of huge proportions,.far beyond any possibility of more than mention here. But it should not surprise us that this issue insinuates its way into our struggle to understand and to integrate "that justice without which faith is incomplete," that justice which .demands not only social action but moral conversion of soul. 8. Brldgebuilders Besides a growing need for prophets in the Church today, there is an equally great need for bridgebuilders. The pioneering prophet always calls and A God for a Dark Journey / 187 leads a people into the future. The builder of bridges is needed to keep the body of the people together and not let them be separated. In many areas polariza-tion is not as severe, or at least it is not so obvious as it used to be. But on all levels of the Church there is need to bring people from different viewpoints together in a genuine unity beneath and in and through their differences. The work of the bridgebuilder is creatiVe, patient--and very difficult. It is creativity that prevents community from capitulating to the least common de-nominator. In the face of certain impasses the ingenuity of an engineering feat is called for to bridge the gulf. Bridgebuilding is also messy work: you have to be willing to get dirty. To dive underwater and survey the depths, to lay foun-dations in muddy ground and to set steel and cement are never easy. It is very patient work, work that stretches a person. One must be able to live on both shores, to recognize the gulf of difference and to have a genuine desire and hope for bridging that gulf of difference. The builder of bridges learns to listen compassionately, though not uncritically, to the good of both sides and doesn't become trapped on only one side. Bishop Cummins of Oakland, when talking about the changing relations between bishops and theologians, called his brother bishops to "be wise enough to consult not just those theologians with whom we are intellectually comfortable, but even a wider group so that we will have the sense of the broader reflection and experience of the community.TM Bridgebuilding is a priestly work in imitation of Jesus who is the great high priest, Pontifex (which means a bridgemaker). It is a priestly work we can all practice. Just as Jesus' priestly bridgebuilding is best revealed in his salvific suffering and dying on Calvary, so our own bridgebuilding ministry will involve a passion of patient suffering which will always be creative for unity. Today, we all need to develop some of this creative, paschal charism of bridge-building, if we are not to settle, on all levels of the world andthe Church, for a shallow, easily disrupted communion of minds and hearts. 9. Ongoing Monastic Renewal Three years ago, in surveying the decade of the seventies, I mentioned the matter of renewal in monasticism.22 During this past year, the issue has been brought home to me again with even an intensity. Some members of monastic communities obviously feel it is time for an honest, thorough evaluation of all the experimentation of the last fifteen years. They sense that communities too easily presume the validity of too much of that experimentation. Though this issue is somewhat removed from my personal experience, I sense in certain voices, not just a traditionalist tendency, but a healthy call for evaluation before monastic communities move on much further with planning for the future. In the midst of the worthwhile development which recent experimentation has brought, are there some changes that have weakened rather than strengthened the monastic experience of God in the Church? How, for example, do the sisters of a renewed contemplative community resolve their growing unease about whether they have lost too much of silence in their 11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 life together? How does a monastic community recognize and reject the newer versions of a tendency to rigidity, legalism, boredom, self-satisfied compla-cency- signs always antithetical to the Gospel~3 These questions, and there are many others that monastic communities could formulate far better than I, are not easy questions. But they could provoke stimulating, life-giving evaluation. In the long history of monasticism, it has always been a complicated matter to determine the appropriate "works" of a community. Merton has reminded the monastic community that it "does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.TM Louis Dupr~, in a powerful chapter on "The Poverty of God," while commenting on the monastic life-style, says that "the monk avoids looking ridiculous by refusing to take himself or his work more seriously than they deserve. Measuring them against the backdrop of eternity he rightly judges human concerns to be less than all-significant."~5 The traditional "work" of hospitality continues to bring many people into touch with the powerful monastic witness and source of faith in God. Perhaps it can be an extension of hospitality today to be involved in explicitly spiritual ministries, such as direction, or other temporary services which can be ren-dered to tile local civic community--often right in the monastery. Of course the details of such determinations can only be known in the light of prayerfully careful study of the spirit and writings of the founder or foundress--and by planned, scheduled evaluation. It will always be a challenge for the community members themselves to believe in the monastically apostolic style of being and to resist any inappro-priately active style of doing. We speak here of more than a rearranging of schedule or works. It is a matter of renewing an attitude and a vocation of men and women called to witness to God, our eternally faithfiil Lover, called to do this through who they are and how they live together, rather than through what they "do" and "accomplish." As some monastic communities try to evaluate the developments of recent years, they may be helped by re-reading Thomas Merton's "Memorandum on Monastic Renewal'~6 and by looking at Louis Duprr's conferences to the monks at Gethsemani,27 and a hosi of other writings on the monastic life today. And if, as some suggest, this issue requires further attention, perhaps the Association of Contemplative Sisters in this country could facilitate a prayerful evaluation. Monastic life is at the very heart of Christian faith and justice. In a secularistic world so hyperactive and quick to identify and evaluate people according to what they do and have, the joyful witness of men and women whose basic identity is to be in apostolic contemplation before God, while always difficult to maintain, becomes ever more important. 10. Developments in Religious Life New religious groups continue to appear in the Church. One meets new A God for a Dark Journey / 189 religious communities that have broken off from older, better-known congre-gations; some impasse could not be resolved and a new group was born. There are other new groups that are not offshoots of any previous congregation. Some of these groups have canonical and ecclesiastical approval; others do not--and some are not interested in such approval. There is much vigor, value, variety and novelty in all of this. All these groups are responding to some need but often in quite different ways. Some are permanently formed groups, founded in the permanent covenant of final profession. Others are bound together much more temporarily. It is important to acknowledge the valuable service rendered by these groups, when they are not dominated by an ugly reaction to a past difficult situation. Can all such groups be classified as religious life? Are there new forms of religious life appearing in all of this? How far can the traditional understanding of religious life be stretched in new directions? It is still too early for this observer to be sure about any answers to these issues. My personal conviction is that we must be careful that religious life cannot come to mean almost anything. Otherwise words lose meaning. It would seem clear that the Spirit is breathing new types of groups into the Church at this time. And it is not necessary to force all of them into the framework of religious life. 1 myself incline to think that religious life will continue to be a life of total consecration to God, specified in terms of celibacy, poverty and obe-dience, lived in community,28 and with explicit ecclesiastical approval. In the light of this understanding, though there can be much renewal of forms of religious life, there probably are not any wholly new forms. But there are, and will continue to be, new forms of communities that are not formally part of religious life. And this, rather than being a problem, should be a welcome addition to ways of serving in the Church. To be mutually understanding and to serve together in building that Kingdom of Jesus' Father in human hearts, as it grew and was revealed in Jesus' own heart--this is the most important gift to receive from God and to share with each other until time and experience give us greater clarity about this issue.29 Another development in religious life, and for various reasons a cause of sadness and discouragement for some, is the continuing departure of men and women both before and after final profession. As I mentioned in my last article,30 evidence seems to support the belief that the number of departures which decreased in the end of the seventies is now picking up again in the eighties. Such a phenomenon needs to be pondered. It can contain a call to keep renewing the lived witness of religious life. But, it seems to me, here we have a phenomenon different from the sixties and early seventies. People realize more and more what the truth and demands are of a religious vocation ¯ in the world today. The immediate reason for many who leave seems to be related to celibacy. Fo~ them, celibacy does not seem right and good, if pos-sible at all. But to settle for this as a final, adequate explanation seems too simple. Investigation and reflection upon many of these cases reveal, for instance, that the observance of religious poverty had stopped and at least the "1911 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 attitude, if not the execution, of religious obedience of mission had also weak-ened or even stopped before celibacy also lost its gift quality and began to seem a burden too heavy to bear any more. Though celibacy may be the more immediate and obvious final crisis, it cannot be separated from religious pov-erty and obedience, both of which buttress and give expression to the interper-sonal, unique companionship with God which, at its core, is what celibacy is all about. 11. Openness to New Non-Western Ways of Seeing Reality Over this past year, missionaries have brought to my attention this final trend. As the Church continues to grow in Africa, Japan, India, and other parts of the Near and Far East, the faith of our universal or '~world" Church3~ can be enriched by openness to the very different ways of perceiving reality in these countries. But it wil! .~'¢quire a flexibility that is not always easy for us. My-own liinited experience and reading in this area prevent, me now from writing about the obviously vast and important implications of this openness for our Christian future. But I feel the truth of the witness of 0these missionaries at least to want to mention the matter here--with the hope that both reader and writer will ponder this further over the coming year. Conclusion As I conclude this fourth article on currents in American spirituality, two reflections come to mind. They may be stated very briefly. They are both, I think, very obvious. And very important. First, 1 think it is necessary, in a rapidly shifting, changing world and in a Church whose future we are called upon to choose in the Spirit, that an informed believer have a sense of con-temporary spiritual trends and issues. Second, it is necessary to recognize and to choose, again and again, precisely within these shifting, changing trends of our time, the one perennial truth and beauty of God's revelation in Jesus. This is the great and difficult, but exciting task of the believer. A God for a dark journey. The Letter to the Hebrews speaks to the stead-fast center of the enterprise: "Christ yesterday, today and the same forever.'~2 And Hopkins catches splendidly the variety and difference of that journey, common to us all, our journey into God: "Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not his, to the Father, through the features of men's faces,m3 A God for a Dark Journey ] 191 NOTES WTrends and Issues in a Secularizing World," March/April 1982, pp. 186-206. 2Ibid., pp. 186-187. 3The Deeper Life, Louis Dupr6 (Crossroad: New York, 1981). 41bid., p. 46. 5Mt 6:18. 6Concern For the Church, Theological Investigations XX, Karl Rahner, tr. Edward Quinn (Crossroad: New York, 1981), p. 149. 7Avery Dulles, S.J. is always a helpful and carefully creative guide in this whole question of the Church. See his Models of the Church (Image: New York, 1978) and his most recent book, A Church to Believe In (Crossroad: New York, 1982). 8"Trends of 1980: Some Themes and a Few Specifics," Review for Religious, March 1981, pp. 238-239. 9"The Past Decade," Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 200-201. ~°"The Dimensions of Care," Origins, Jan. 28, 1982, pp. 520-524. ~tTad Guzie, The Book of Sacramental Basics (Paulist: New York, 1981), p. 85. ~2Ibid., pp. 97-103. ~3"The Future of Church and Ministry," Origins. May 6, 1982, p. 750. ~4"What the Laity Need," Origins, May 20, 1982, pp. 9-16, esp. 14. ~See art. cir., Review for Religious, March/April, 1982. pp. 202-203. ~6America, November 13, 1982, p. 284. Since we are in the midst of a process with regard to the pastoral letter of the bishops on Peace and War, it may be helpful to the reader to know that these remarks of mine were written in December, 1982. ~TArt. cit., Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 201-202. 18Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (Paulist: New York, 1978) esp. pp. 41-44. ~gThe Social Teaching of John Paul II, No. 4 "The Theme of Liberation," presented by Rev. Roger Heckel, S.J:, Pontifical Commission on Justice and Peace, Vatican City, 1980, esp. pp. 16-17. Heckel shows that John Paul 11 does not use the word liberation very much, and when he does God and Christ are the subject and content of the liberation. ~°Art. cir., Review for Religious, March/April, 1982, pp. 193-194. 2~"The Chahging Relations Between Bishops and Theologians," Origins, June 17, 1982, p. 70. 2ZArt. cir., Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 197-198. ~See John C. Futrell, S.J., "The Monk and the Apostle," Review for Religious, May/June, 1982, p. 409. 2~Thomas Merton, The Monastic Journey, ed. Br. Patrick Hart, (Image: New York, 1978), p. 213. ZSDupr~, op. cit., p. 43. 26Merton, op. tit., pp. 213-217. ~TDupr~, op. cir. ~sSee art. eit., Review for Religious, March/April 1982, pp. 199-201, and James T. Burtchaell, "The Future of Our Fellowship," Commonweal, June 18, 1982. pp. 364-368. ~See Richard A. Hill, S.J., "The Community and the Option of Non-Canonical Status," Review for Religious, July/August 1982, pp. 542-550. The author treats the issues involved in a congrega-tion's moving to non-canonical status. ~°Art. Cir., Review for Religious. March/April 1982, p. 200. 3~1bid., p. 195. ~Heb 13:8. ~From the sonnet, "As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame." Conversion and Conflict John Navone, S.J. Father Navone writes of the pres,~nt article that it "develops the idea of the previous article ['Conversion Expres~d in Dialogue and Story.' Sept/Oct, 1982] in terms of the Synoptics' conflict stories and their implicit meaning for Christian conversion." Father continues to teach at the Gregorian University, where he also resides: Piazza della Pilotta, 4:00187 Roma. Italy. The New Testament is an external expression of the internal reality of Christian conversion. It brings to expression the mystery of God as a history of transforming love in Jesus Christ and in his community of faith: "No one has ever seen God: it is the only Son, who is nearest to the Father's heart, who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). The "conflict stories" of the New Testament imply that God's word of love will encounter human resistance.~ The adversaries of Jesus give expression to the various forms that human resistance takes to the grace and demand of God for our truest and fullest life in his love. His adversaries represent the mind-sets and heart-sets that oppose the event and the process of Christian conversion-- the personal and social transformation that results from the surrender of oneself to the love that is God. The synoptic gospels contain a number of episodes prior to the passion narrative in which there is a verbal exchange between Jesus and his contem-poraries on some crucial issue, exchanges in which Jesus and the other parties are adversaries. In these episodes, the crucial issue generally arises because of some action of Jesus, or of his disciples, which is unacceptable to the other parties. Some-times they arise because Jesus (or someone else) asks a question which pro-vokes conflict? There are three parts to the formal structure of these "conflict stories": 1) an introductory narrative: 2) the opponent's question or attack; and 3) Jesus' reply--the so-called "dominical saying." 192 Conversion and Conflict / "19:3 These stories are always preceded by some narrative. This narrative func-tions not only as a transitional link with what has preceded~ but it also estab-lishes the setting in such a way that the reader is prepared for the inevitable conflict. Thus the narrative stages a polarity or tension, with speaking and acting persons as the poles of the tension. Except in Mk 3: I-5, the conflict stories begin with a question or accusation that is usually directed toward Jesus or his disciples. In two instances, however, the questions begin from Jesus himself (Mr 22:41-46 and Lk 14:1-6). At times the silence of Jesus' opponent (as in Mk 3:2) can have the significance of a statement in the ensuing dialogue of question and answer. All materials of the conflict story are organized to stress Jesus' reply--the dominical saying--which brings the dialogue to a close. This pronouncement of Jesus has some bearing on an aspect of Christian belief or conduct. It implies the need of understanding, and it explains both the grace and the demand of God's word of love in Jesus Christ that calls for human transforma-tion in the process of Christian conversion. These conflict stories were formulated at various stages in the process of formation of the gospels, and in diverse circumstances.3 Some were shaped within the living context of the early Church's apologetical concerns in response to Jewish criticism. Others were shaped in the context of the catechet-ical concerns of the Church in its response to the need of teaching converts and regulating" the life of the believing community. Central to all conflict stories, however, is their focus on the person of Jesus, on his words, attitudes and actions. Christian conversion always has as its object the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ: his relationships to God, and his relationships to fellow-humans--his relationships to divine and human per-sons. This interpersonal life of Christ is the prime analogate for the Christian community's experience, understanding and judgment of its own interpersonal relationships with divine and human persons. ThE object of Christian conversion, then, is not just a set of truths, nor an ethical code. It is participation in the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ as this is itself rooted in receiving and giving the Father's love, in knowing and being known. The gospels' conflict stories imply the difficulty with which the mystery of God becomes a history of love in the actual life-stories of Jesus and of his followers. These stories imply that Christian conversion, both as event and as process of maturation, must have a dimension of conflict at both the intra-and interpersonal levels. "Not my will but thine be done" itself tells of a conflict relationship with the self that is always to be transcended in the individual's response to the grace and demand of the serf-giving love that is God. God's coming into our lives creates the transforming tension between his grace and its demand for an ever-greater selflessness which brings about a lasting communion with God's own self--and thereby with one another among his followers. Jesus Christ's "way of the cross" represents the "costly 194 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 love" of divine and of human self-giving and self-investment. Christian conversion, then, is the new life which derives from our accepting for ourselves God's own life of boundless love for all. The Cross expresses the suffering, that the acceptance of boundless love must entail--even for the sinless Son of God. It makes manifest that our acceptance of this love will inevitably place us in a conflictual relationship with others: If the world hates you. remember that it hated me before you. If you belonged to the world. the world would love you as its own: but because you do not belong to the world. because my choice withdrew you from the world. therefore the world hates you. Remember the words I said to you: A servant is not greater than his master. if they persecuted me. they will persecute you too . . . (Jn 16:18-20). If the conflict stories of the gospels are an expression of the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ, of his receiving and giving his Father's love for the trans-formation of all, they imply also that Christian conversion, our participation in his life, must inevitably entail conflict at both the intra- and interpersonal levels. At both levels it must entail an ever deeper penetration into the mystery of that love which itself embraces our lives, and constitutes the term towards which our whole beings strive. The God whose word of love is addressed to us in the conflict stories gives us the ability to make that word our own by the process of Christian conver-sion. 4 Not only do we hear Jesus' story, but we tell the same story in our own lives, making his struggle to overcome the unlove of the human heart our own. The Church tells these conflict stories of its Lord as an expression of the life which derives from his love. His struggle reveals the way that God's ' kingdom comes to us. Consequently, we might well question our tendency to believe that conflict at the intra- and interpersonal levels of Christian life is always an indication that something is wrong. Rather, it would seem we might be more concerned about the authenticity of a Christian commitment which did not encounter resistance at both these levels. The way of the cross is the way of inexhaustible and unquenchable love. It enables us to live in the tension and conflict that this love demands if we are to attain to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. These conflict stories must not be read outside the context of the Good News. This is what fills the heart with joy and enables self-sacrifice to be wholehearted. Even though these stories imply the demand of a God who challenges everything that is in us, they are expressions at the same time of the great Good News that God is Love and has given us his life and love in Jesus Christ and in his Spirit. Even though these stories imply all the conflict, tension, suffering and Conversion and Conflict / 195 renunciation that is inherent in living as Christians, they, too, belong to the Good News, because what is primary in them and in it is the joy taken in the goodness of the life and love that God has given us: "Jesus. who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame" (Heb 12:2).5 The conflict-dimension of Christian conversion and its way of the cross is founded on the joy that is taken in the Supreme Good, in the Boundless Love that we know and proclaim to be the Father of Jesus Christ. Through the gift of the Spirit. we are enabled to rejoice in this Love and its challenges. In this context we know that where there is love, there is also struggle. The crucified and risen One reveals that Love is not indifferenl to human unlove, but struggles to overcome it in the conflictual activity of Love's self-giving. NOTES ~Other terms have been used to designate the material which we have called here "conflict stories." The term Streitgesprhche (controversy dialogues) was used by Martin AIbertz and Rudolf Bultmann. Martin Dibelius used Paradigmen. Vincent Taylor used pronouncement stories. Sometimes controvers.v stories was used in English as a general designation. -'The following conflict stories are those designated by such as Arland J. Hultgren in Jesus and His Adversaries (Minneapoilis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1979), pp. 26-27: I. There are eleven conflict stories in Mark. usually with parallels in Matthew and Luke: 2: 1-12: The Healing of the Paralytic (Mr 9:1-8: Lk 5:17-26). 2:15-17: Eating with Tax Collectors and Sinners (Mr 9:10-13: Lk 5:29b-32). 2:18-22: The Question About Fasting (Mt 9:14-15: Lk 5:33-35). 2:23-28: Plucking Grain on the Sabbath (Mr 12:1-8: Lk 6:1-5). 3: I- 5: Healing on the Sabbath (Mt 12:9-13: Lk 6:6-10). 3:22-30: The Beelzebul Controversy (Mt 12:22~32: Lk 11:14-23). 7: I- 8: The Tradition of the Elders (Mt 15:1-9). 10: 2- 9: On Divorce IMt 19:3-9). 11:27-33: The Question About Authority (Mt 21:23-27: Lk 20:1-8). 12:13-17: Paying Taxes to Caesar (Mt 22:15-22: Lk 20:20-26). 12:18-27: On the Resurrection (Mr 22:23-33: Lk 20:27-40). 2. There are two conflict stories in the special Lucan material." 13:10-17: Healing the Crippled Woman on the Sabbath. 14: 1- 6: Healing the Man with Dropsy on the Sabbath. 3. There are three conflict stories in Matthew based in part on Marcan and Q materials: 12:38--42: The Refusal of a Sign (in part from Mk 8:11-12 and Q: Lk 11:29-32). 22:34-40: The Double Commandment of Love (in part from Mk 12:38-42 and Q: Lk 10:25-28), 22:41-46: The Question ,~bout David's Son (in part from Mk 12:35-37). 4. There is 1 co~Tflict story in Luke based in part on Marcan material." 7:36-50: The Sinful Woman at Simon's House (in part from Mk 14:3-9). 5. There is I conflict story in Q." Mt 12:22-32: Lk 11:14-23: The Beelzebul Controversy (see Mk 3:22-30). JConflict stories, obviously, are but one way for the evangelists to express Jesus' struggle. The story of the demoniac in the Capernaum synagogue, for example, expresses the demons' sense that in Jesus they have met the victor in the cosmic conflict between good and evil: "You have 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 come to destroy us, haven't you?" (Mk 1:24). '~See the treatment of Christian conversion in the eighth chapter of my book. co-authored with Thomas Cooper, Tellers qf the Word: Nine Moments in the Theology of Story (New York: I_e Jacq Publishers. 1981). SThe incapacity to enjoy seems to be connected wth the incapacity to love. Some do not enjoy anything enough to be able to forget about themselves. The first thing we read about God in the Bible is that he made something and thought it was good. St. Thomas writes of the love of benevolence or friendship that by it the person who loves desires for the person loved the same goods that he desires for himse~f"as for another se~f.'" And so the lover desires to give to the beloved the same things that have been the objects of his own love and enjoyment. See, e.g., ST. I-II, q. 27, a. 3. Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions Mary IJnscott, S.N.D. Sister Mary, formerly Superior General of the Sisters of Notre Dame of Namur (1969-1978), presently works at the Sacred Congregation for ReLigious and Secular Institutes in the area of constitutions and general chapters of sisters. She resides at her motherhouse: Suore di Nostra Signora di Namur: Largo Berchet, 4; 00152 Roma, Italy. Experience in recent years strongly suggests that religious authority, like most other kinds, is in a moment of crisis, A justifiable but over-vigorous reaction to some previous styles of operation has often been the immediate occasion of this. Other causes, however, have also contributed to the situation: the emergence of a strong culture-consciousness in certain areas; the introduc-tion of new processes and patterns whether offered postively, negatively, or simply as a change from what existed before; the need to make values and structures correspond more evidently; the evolution of ideas about religious life itself and about the Church; and even the very fact of having lived since the late 1960's in experimental conditions which often did not provide clearly for the exercise of authority. The crisis is something which ultimately affects fundamental values in religious life: identity, apostolic efficacy, the nature and importance of consecration, the future form of religious life as such. Because of its potentially serious consequences, the crisis cannot be ignored. In fact, many institutes are facing it very honestly. Responses vary. A few follow the ostrich in seeming to assume that if no attention is paid to it, the situation will disappear of its own accord. Some tend to extremes: a holding to the status quo as if nothing had happened, or a leap into a pattern which involves the virtual dissipation, or at least the non-exercise, of any real authority. Some 197 "19~1 / Review for Religious, .March-April, 1983 strive to keep the reality of ,authority but clothe it in a different language, often that of business management or politics. Some keep the concept in words but virtually shift the content to something else: usually participation, communica-tion, consensus or leadership. None of these responses meets the situation but each indicates the realization that there is a situation to be faced. More recent lines of development show a growing awareness of the need to relate religious authority to religious obedience, and both to the ecclesial dimension of consecrated life. Sisters are realizing that the authority question can only be handled adequately on the level of faith and of relation to the Church, and they are trying to find expressions which will simultaneously r~flect faith, foster life and values, meet present realities, and be in accord both with the Church's common law and with the best traditions of their institute. One such line of development is based on a better appreciation Of the service rendered by authority. Current attempts to express this are frequently contradictory because the service of authority is taken to mean either authority and service or authority as service and the conclusions drawn are not wholly consistent with either one or the other. But if authority of itself is service--that is, if by the fact of being itself it serves religious life necessarily and fruitfully-- we have a line with rich possibilities. It is some of these lines which 1 hope to explore. Before doing so, I think that a few clarifications are in order. First, I will not be speaking about authority in general but only about religious authority: the authority properly exercised in a religious congregation because of its recognition by the Church. Secondly, since without it the religious congregation would not exist as such, I will be assuming that the reality of religious authority itself is not in question but that much of the crisis lies in the evolution of structures and the search for suitable styles of exercise. Thirdly, I will restrict my reflection to the experience of congregations of sisters of apostolic life. This is partly because it is in them that questions regarding authority and government are sharply presented, and partly because my own experience is extensively with them and my reflections are largely conditioned by their sharing. The reflections fall into three main phases--a look at religious authority itself as it is seen in Jesus, in the Church and in religious institutes; then the service of authority in religious government; and finally some of the strengths, confusions and questions in the service of authority at present. I. The Service of Religious Authority 1.1 In Jesus Probably the most familiar scene associated with the authority of Jesus is the one at the end of St. Matthew's gospel (Mt 28:19-20).__.M_a.~y Of Magdala and the other Mary have been mandated, first by the angel at the tomb (28:7) and then by the risen Lord himself (28:10) to tell the disciples, "my brothers," to go to Galilee. It is a solemn convocation to the "mountain where Jesus arranged to meet them." There, before the adoration of some and the hesitation of others, Jesus makes his last, confident claim, gives his last The Service of Religious Authority / 199 command, and pledges his last promise in a setting which, for Matthew, recalls the old law of Sinai and the new law of the beatitudes. The claim is absolute-- "All authority in heaven and on earth is given to me" (Mt 28:19), and, to make this effective, he promises to be with them until the end of time (Mt 28:20). Therefore, in the work of evangelization--preaching, baptizing, teaching, carrying God's word everywhere and to all the ages--the inner strength, impulse and power are always that of Christ himself, to whom all authority is given. To the disciples, this can hardly have been surprising. Many knew Jesus as one who had authority and who exercised it. He spoke with authority and not as the scribes and pharisees (Mt 7:28-29): he interpreted the law on no authority but his own (Mt 5:21-22 ff.); he ordered evil spirits to go forth, and they went (Mt 8:32); he commanded the winds and the seas, and they obeyed him (Mt 9:27): he had authority over sickness (Mt 8:14-15); blindness (Mt 9:29); deafness (Mk 9:7-35); dumbness (Mt 9:32-33); lameness (Mt 15:30); paralysis (Mk 2:!1); sin (Mk 2:10): and death itself (Lk 7:15). The authority he exercised in regard to the disciples was unquestioned. So also was the fact that, when he chose, he could confer on others authority similar to his own. Sometimes the authority was for a short period, as when the apostles who had rejoiced exuberantly in it during their first mission (Mk 6:7, 30) found that they no longer had it when they tried to cure the boy possessed, at the foot of Tabor (Mk 9:18). Sometimes it was promised for a longer future, as to Peter after his confession of faith (Mr 16:18): and by the lake of Tiberias it was given in a definitive way (Jn 21:15-17). Jesus was Lord and Master, Shepherd and Teacher, King, though not of this world; Lord of the Sabbath, Messiah and Son of the living God. His authority was never in doubt. According to his own testimony, however, this authority was neither assumed nor taken by acclaim, but given. Like his priesthood, it was not something that Jesus conferred upon himself or took of his own initiative (see Heb 5:4), nor was it something that he Would accept from the acclamation of delighted followers who wanted to make him King (Jn 6:15). It was, as he himself said, "given" and given by the Father. For this reason, his authority was unlike any other. Intimately connected with his person as Son and with his mission as Redeemer, it served a purpose which was the Father's business (see Jn 14:31), the "will of him who sent me" (Jn 5:30). It extended to all things in heaven and on earth. It was clearly distinct in its exercise from the authority of "the rulers of this world who lord it over their subjects" (Jn 22:25) and it was used to give life (Jn 10:10) and to heal (Mr 8:16); to teach (Mr 5:14); to save (Jn 12:47); to forgive (Mr 9:6); to sanctify (Jn I: 12); to unite (Jn 17:21); to bind and loose in heaven (Mr 18:18); to send in evangelizing mission (Mk 16:16); to found the Church (Mr 16:!8). 1.2 In the Church It is this authority, exercised for the same purpose and in the same manner, that Christ continues in his Church by his presence to the end of time. Peter's 200 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 authority was something that was given as a matter of faith: it was Christ's authority invested in him. He knew it when he said to the man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple: "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk" (Ac 3:7). He knew it when he helped phrase the decision of the so-called Council of Jerusalem in the words: "It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us" (Ac 15:25). He experienced it in the inner changes of values that he had to make in order to welcome Cornelius (Ac 10:34, 42) and to break with the Judaizers at Antioch (Ga 2:i1-14). Exercising the authority of binding and loosing that Christ had uniquely given him (Mt 16:19) and confident in the Lord's prayer for him (Lk 22:32), Peter confirmed his brethren with a power which he knew was pure gift. It was at the service of Christ's mission. It depended for its efficacy on an intimate personal relation and loving obedience to the Master who had conferred it and it was exercised for Christ's purposes and in Christ's way even to union with him in martyrdom. The same characteristics marked Paul's exercise of authority. "Be imitators of me as I am of Christ" ( I Co 4:1) was his cryptic summary of his own place in relation to the Lord who was his life (Ph 1:20) and the new Christians who were his responsibility. He could appeal, and did, to the moral authority of example which can result from the quality of life, of work and of prayer in someone who is fully living his or her baptism. But he had another kind, too: a personal authority given him by God for his work among the gentiles whereby, in union with Peter, he could inspire, instruct, encourage, correct, judge, and organize the Churches he founded in order to lead them to the fullness of Christ. In using it, he made a careful distinction between what was common teaching "from the Lord," as he called it, and what was his own opinion (1 Co 7:10, 12). He was particular not to profit from it in any way personally (! Th 3:8-9 and 1 Co 9:15-18) and he was at pains to ensure that it was continued in his young Churches (2 Tm 1:6, 2:1-2). So we find him constantly instructing, correcting errors whether of doctrine in Galatia or of manner of life in Corinth, fostering order in the local Churches whether liturgical (1 Co !1) or organizational (Tt 1:15) or in the matter of interpersonal relations (Ph 4:2). When necessary, he appealed for material support from them ( I Co 16:I-4 and Rm 15:25). None of this was done without suffering, as the second letter to the Corintl~ians makes clear. The authority of Christ was only exercised in the way of Christ--through the passion and resurrection, and Paul's was a paschal experience. Religious authority in both Peter and Paul was the power of Christ given them and acting through them to fulfill the purposes for which the Church was founded. From their time onwards, the essential authority of the Church has been the same. Her task is to save, to sanctify, to unite, to r~concile to the Father, and to spread the good news of Jesus Christ concretely to all nations and to the end of time. She is, in Vatican ll's beautiful phrase, the sacrament of salvation. She therefore has to direct, judge and teach with an authority that cannot come from her members and which she cannot take upon herself but The Service of Religious Authority / 201 which is the authority of Christ whose presence she is. Her intimate union and identification with him ensure that his own authority is exercised in and through her. It does not, however, make her proof against human weakness in her style of exercising it, any more than it protected Peter from errors of judgment or Paul from the consequences of a volatile temperament. In the course of history much has occurred to condition the Church's structures in ways that needed later revision, and, on that level, she has been embroiled at times in uses and abuses of authority that had little to do with the authority of Christ. But the essential truth remains. The authority which is uniquely proper to the Church is a religious authority--that of Christ himself--to save, to make disciples, to preach the gospel, to bring all to the Father in every place and age. This is the authority which is exercised in the recognition of religious institutes by the Church as a microcosm of her own reality. It is to this authority that they relate; and it is this authority which gives them theirs. 1.3 In Religious Institutes There are several circumstances which require that the authority in a religious institute be an ecclesial or religious authority and not just one which meets functional or organizational needs. These circumstances touch the nature of religious life itself. Religious institutes do not originate of themselves nor do they continue entirely as a result of their own efforts and planning-- they are the result of a gift of God and they depend on him for both their origin and their continuance. Their basic reason for existence is the closer following of Jesus Christ from which, for them, everything else must flow and to which everything else must be related. Moreover, they are in a special way God's gift to the Church: their way of life makes good sense only on the level of faith; they witness to realities and absolutes that are neither tangible nor visible, and it is only in virtue of the Church's recognition and approval that they exist. Their purpose is that of Christ and of-the Church. Such institutes require an authority that operates on the level of faith, Christ and Church, and which corresponds to the obedience which the members have freely vowed as a value because of their closer following of the Christ whose love made him obedient even unto death. All religious foundresses have become aware of the need for this kind of authority as God continued to act in their lives. A variety of providential circumstances can bring Christians together to do good--Pax Christi, the Christian Social Volunteers, CAFOD, the Catholic Women's Guilds would be random samples, and the members of these groups need no more than the authority that results from their own self-organization in order to operate well and to achieve their purposes. Their members give to each other whatever authority is necessary for the organization to function. They are related to the Church~ not essentially or by nature of the authority which they exercise, but by the recognition of their common purpose and by the baptismal commitment 209/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 of the individual members. Some religious institutes have begun in this way. At some point in their development, however, came the realization that they were aspiring to something more than what a group of Christians, however well-intentioned, could give to itself. The desire for a total public commitment to God formally received, the need for perpetual vows, the call to follow Christ intimately and as community in his obedience, and the urge towards a particular insertion into his public mission, would be some of the reasons which would prompt a founder or foundress to ask the Church to exercise her proper authority and to recognize the institute as a religious family. The Church alone, in Christ's name, can establish a religious institute, can receive vows that are vows of religion, can give an ecclesial mission and can confer the specifically religious authority in virtue of which an institute can require its members so to live and to work as to attain the purpose for which the institute was erected. This authority, which I will call religious authority, relates particularly to consecration, vowed life, mission, formation and government. It is specific to religious institutes and it is not the same thing as organization, responsibility, power or leadership. Given by the Church, it always involves an ecclesial accountability. Moreover, religious authority is never absolute. It is invested in persons clearly designated but who for the most part may not operate alone, and it is mediated through structures, usually worked out by the foundress in dialogue with the Church, which express the charism, nature, spirit and purpose of the institute and which are approved in its constitutions. Such authority makes possible a life of vowed obedience. Moreover, it is necessary for it. It is true, of course, that the structures by which religious authority is mediated can become outdated. They can atrophy, be abused or manipulated, lose contact with reality, or fail to function. They can reach a stage when they no longer correspond to or express the values that they are meant to foster. They then need to be revised and renewed. For this process, it is of the utmost importance to bear in mind the nature, purpose and source of religious authority, since models that are suitable to other forms are not necessarily appropriate to the structures of authority in religious life. It is also necessary to remember and respect the strongly ecclesial dimension of religious authority since this makes renewal of authority structures always a matter of dialogue with the Holy See and not simply the unilateral initiative of an institute. We further need to keep clear the correlation of authority with charism and life as expressed in the institute's own sound traditions, since this gives the best practical guidance for structures which will reaffirm the institute's identity in creative fidelity, continuity and openness. Where structures are renewed in this way, authority is a fruitful reality serving the purposes for which religious life exists. It is a witness to him who came not to be served but to serve and who used fiis authority at the service of the kingdom. Where the renewal of structures somehow loses sight of the unique nature, ecclesial dimension, and The Service of Religious Authority / 203 charismatic continuity of religious authority on the level of faith, it can ultimately betray religious life itself by secularizing it, in the negative sense, in what is fundamental to it. The various crises of authority at present lie at various points between these two possibilities. II. The Service of Authority in Religious Government 2.1 The Model The model of the authority that serves is Christ, the Servant of Yahweh. He to whom all power is given in heaven and on earth is also, and without diminishing either aspect, the one who came to serve, who emptied himself, obeyed even to the cross, and gave his life as a ransom for many. Clearly in ,iesus authority and service are not in contradiction. One is not at the expense of the other and there is no tension of opposites having to be held in balance. He refers easily to both, as when he is washing Peter's feet (,in 13:14), and he never attempts to justify either. Being at once Son and Servant, he exercises both authority and service as one, and this is of the essence of his incarnation. As religious, the goal of our life is the closer following of Christ in all its fullness but there is no doubt that we have a certain difficulty with this aspect of his reality. This may be because we tend to separate the concepts of authority and service in a way which he does not. ,iesus is concerned with the reality of each; he never confuses them, but they are one in his person. We tend to oppose them and to get involved in words to describe them. For example, we often think or speak of authority as an abstraction. Its synonym is power, with connotations of lordship, mastery, might and force that move easily into oppression and violence. Its implications are efficiency and the carrying out of orders. Its contrary is subservience. We think of service as a function accom-plished or something done in view of helping another, whether this is a kindly individual act like giving a hand to an old person, or a public utility, like driving a bus, or the meeting of a national need like the operation of civil service. Its synonym is action in relation to something or action in view of something. It implies somehow being less or becoming less than another. Its contrary is command. We tend, therefore, to identify authority with the power and lordship which are the contrary of service and, because of the negative connotations which we attach to it, we try in fact to avoid its exercise in-common life, to reduce or even to eliminate it, and we forego, perhaps too simplistically, the potential which it has for holiness and for fruitfulness in the apostolate. Yet Christ had authority, used it, and did not hesitate to speak of it and to confer it. It enriched, and in no way d

Issue 41.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1982. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 ~'or two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1982 Volume 41 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph ~. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RE~:IEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses Robert F. Morneau Bishop Morneau has commented in this s~me format on two earlier encyclicals: Redemptor Hominis (March, 1980) and Dives in Misericordia (September, 1981). Together with his service as Auxiliary Bishop of Green Bay, Bishop Morneau also serves through the Ministry to Priests Program where he may be addressed: 1016 N. Broadway: De Pere, Wl 54115. Several years ago Studs Terkel published a series of masterfully conducted interviews under the title of Working. People from various fields of life reflected candidly on the meaning or lack of meaning that work had in their lives. What fascinates the reader is the blatant honesty of'those interviewed; they told it the way they experienced it. With deep feeling and perceptive observation, the work-ing people revealed the movement~ of their mind and heart. On September 14, 1981, Pope John Paul II shared his third encyclical letter, Laborem Exercens, with the world. This papal document focuses on the topic of work, that human activity at once so universally experienced and yet so frequently devoid of meaning. What Terkel did on the experiential level, the Holy Father does on the reflective level. We do not find personal interviews with the rank and file but, from a scriptural and faith point of view, a description of the theological underpinning of our obligation to work. Within this perspective he discusses many questions: the nature and meaning of work; the relationship of work to the person, family and society; how work is influenced by various ideologies; the duty and rights of the worker; a spirituality of work. Rather than delineate detailed and specific policies, the encyclical is concerned with articulating certain principles and guidelines to govern the formation of policy for specific situations. When these principles are adequately and properly applied, work helps to build up the world community and becomes a means of safeguarding the humanity of all. These reflections of the Holy Father are extremely relevant. In an age when technology can so easily control the course of history we must hear over and over 322/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 again the principle that people have primacy ox)er things. In a period of history that takes for granted exploitation and manipulation as acceptable life-styles, we must have confirmation that persons are ends and not means. In our rapidly moving century that gives low priority to quiet and reflective times, it is healthy to have our attention drawn to an awareness of the importance of rest within the spirituality of work. Written on the ninetieth anniversary of Leo XlIl's Rerum Novarum, this present encyclical continues to remind us of the importance of these social questions and the function that the Church plays in their solution in public life. Theme 1: The Meaning and Dignity of Work Thesis: Work is an active process by which creative and productive persons gain dominion over the earth and achieve fullness as human beings. Understood as a process whereby man and the human race subdue the earth, work corres-ponds to this basic biblical concept only when throughout the process man manifests himself and confirms himself as the one who "dominates" (6). Work is a good thing for man--a good thing for his humanity--because throughout work man not only transforms nature, adapting it to his own needs, but he also achieves fulfillment as a human being and indeed, in a sense, becomes ~more a human being" (9). Man must work, both because th~ Creator has commanded it and because of his humanity. which requires work in order to be maintained and developed. Man must work out of regard for others, especially his own family, but also for the society he belongs to. the country of which he is a member, since he is the heir to the work of generations and at the same time a sharer in building the future of those who will come after him in the succession of history (16). The farmer gazes out on newly acquired property and perceives the rocks, tree stumps and weeds; a year later that same farmer, after much labor, rejoices in an autumn harvest of grain. The artist sits before a small mound of clay: many hours later a finely crafted vessel receives the accolades of admiring friends. The steel worker feeds the furnace kno.wing that when the final product is completed, beams of steel will be available for buildings and bridges. The human person, taking the many resources of the world, fashions them into useful and beautiful objects in the meeting of human needs. This process, both creative and productive, brings order out of chaos. The newly won unity fills the human spirit with a sense of meaning, peace and joy. A radical call to all of us is the call to become human persons. Within that universal vocation work plays a necessary and significant part. Only when we thoughtfully expend the energy given to us do we develop our potential and actualize our gifts. Work and growth demand that we participate in this venture of becoming human. Gifts unemployed atrophy. Needs unmet cause suffering. Lack of human development means boredom and despair. Emerson knew the value of work and its effect on human growth: I hear, therefore, with joy whatever'is beginning to be said of dignity and necessity of labor to every citizen. There is virtue yet in the hoe and the spade; for learned as well as for the Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses / 323 unlearned hands.* This labor must be balanced and rational, respecting individuals and allowing for personal fulfillment. History provides evidence that when certain forms of work do not have these qualities human beings are dehumanized and even destroyed. In his perceptive' and challenging philosophical treatise, Leisure, the Basis of Culture, the neo-Thomist Josef Pieper describes "workism" as an attitude and ideology that disregards the essential natureof work. Pieper's argument is that work is meaningful only when the human person's dignity is fully appreciated and when the activity of work is complemented by a certain receptivity towards life which is called contemplation. The present encyclical also protects this balance and perspective. Theme 2: The Subjective and Objective Dimensions of Work Thesis: The subjective dimension of work (the dignity of the human person)always has priority over the objective dimension (productivity). The very process of "subduing the earth," that is to say work. is marked in the course of history, and especially in recent centuries; by an immense development of technological means. This is an advantageous and positive phenomenon, on condition that the objective dimension of work does not gain the upper hand over the subjective dimension, depriving man of his dignity and inalienable rights or reducing them (10). ¯. man's dominion over the earth is achieved in and by means of work. There thus emerges the meaning of work in an objective sense, which finds expression in the various epochs of culture and civilization. Man dominates the earth by the very fact of domesticating animals, rearing them and obtaining from them food and clothing he needs, arid by the fact of being able to extract various natural resources from the earth and the seas (5). As a person, man is therefore the subject of work. As a person he works, he performs various actions belonging to the work process: independently of their objective content, these actions must all serve to realize his humanity, to fulfill the calling to be a person that ig'his by reason of his very humanity (6). Work always involves a person, a process and a product. The language of the encyclical refers to the person as the subject of Work (the subjective dimension) while the product is the object of work (the objective dimension). This distinction is important: a product does not have interiority, nor is it a center of thought and love. On the other hand, the human person is spiritual, immortal and called to fullness of life in God. The process of work can take such a direction so as to make a person play the role of a mere tool (cog in the machine). The focus is on productivity. Such a procedure, used in the work world dehumanizes the person and negates the Christian meaning of work. Unfortunately, hi~tory records too many years of such abuse. The Holy Father's analysis of work contains an implicit anthropology, one ~'The American Scholar," in The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson. ed. Brooks Atkinson (New York: The Modern Library, 1940), p. 55. ~124 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 that has the highest regard for the fullness of human life. Every person has both an inner and outer agenda. Meister Eckhart describes it this way: There are people who squander the strength of their souls in the ouiward man. These are the people, all of whose desires and thoughts turn on transient goods, since they are unaware of the inner person. Sometimes a good man robs his outward person of all the soul's agents, in o'rder to dispatch them on some higher enterprise; so. conversely animal people rob the inner person of the soul's agents and assign them to the outward man. A man may be ever so active outwardly and still leave the inner man unmoved and passive.-~ Both the outer and inner dimensions of work need protection and a sensitive balance. Each has its own unique value. If they are not integrated, a person either "sells his soul to the company store" or falls into a type of narcissism which destroys communal responsibility. Persons have dignity which must not be denied; the work process must be respected as part of God's plan; human life is impossible without those products which meet essential needs. Proper priority and balance in reference to the subjective and objective dimen-sions of work are maintained when reverence is present amongpeople. Only when we stand in awe of every person, only when we hold sacred the gifts of air, water and land, only when we carefully consider the inner dynamism and value of the creative process will we truly appreciate work. Goethe reminds us: "The shudder of ,awe is humanity's highest faculty." This papal docume.nt contains that "shudder of awe.'" Whenever we encounter the handiwork of God, human or otherwise, we bow before the Creator's reflection. The person, the imago Dei, the creative pro-cess and end product of our work demand appropriate respect. Theme 3: The Value Scale of Work Thesis: Work involves three spheres of values: 1)a personal value bringing dignity to the individual; 2) a family value forming the foundation of communal life; and 3) a societal value enriching the common good. It (workJ is not only good in the sense that it is useful or something to enjoy; it is also good as being someth!ng worthy, that is to say, something that corresponds to man's dignity, that expresses this dignity and increases it. If one wishes to define more clearly the ethical meaning of work. it is this truth that one must particularly keep in mind Work constitutes a foundation for the formation of family life. which is a natural right and something that man is called to . In a way, work is a condition for making it possible to found a family, since the family requires the means of subsistence which man normally gains through work. Work and industriousness also influence the whole process of education in the family, for the very reason that everyone "becomes a human being" through, among other things, work. and becoming a human being is precisely the main purpose of the whole process of education (10). ¯. it (society) is also a great historical and social incarnation of the work of all generations. All of this brings it about that man combines his deepest human identity with membership of a nation, and intends his work also to increase the common good developed together with his '-Meister Eckhart, trans. Raymond B. Blakncy (Ne~' York: Harper Torchbooks). p. 87. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses compatriots, thus realizing that in this way work serves to add to the heritage of the whole human family, of all the people living in the world (10). The valuing process determines life. Values lead to an internal judgment which in turn dictates actions. The degree of worth we assign to individuals and things has far-reaching consequences. Within the complex va.luing system, work plays a major role since it touches personal lives, family life, and even national and international communities. The value assigned to work in these three areas will affect, for good or ill, the course of history. Family life remains a pivotal force in society, That life is threatened by an increasing number of divorces, the current mobility and the impact of the mass media. Unemployment is another threat which can lead to "social disaster" (18). Further, inadequate wages deprive the family of essential goods; lack of proper benefits increase anxiety; dissatisfaction with one's job has an impact on spouse and children. Work has a wider circle than just family life--it influences all of society. When people are given proper.job opportunities the common good is served and society is healthy. When work fosters a sense of cooperation among employees and employers, a new spirit of solidarity is felt in the wide? society. When work is done so that future generations will be served and helped by conserving our resources and protecting our, environment, society ,is being given responsible models. We have reached a point where this type of social consciousness can no longer remain merely a hope; if it does not become a fact, our society may well be doomed. Few people can grow interiorly without a sense of achievement. When work is done well, confidence and a sense of self-worth increase. Further, in fulfilling the commandment of God that we do work, we contribute to God's plan. The brick we add has eternal significance; no one else can do the work assigned to us. A prayer attributed to Cardinal Newman conveys the importance and the enigma of each person's work: ~ God has created me to do him some definite service: he has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another. I have my mission--I may never know it in this life. but I shall be told it in the next. 1 am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do his work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place while not intending it--if I do but keep his commandments. Therefore 1 will trust him. Whatever. wherever I am. I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve him: in perplexity, my perplexity may serve him: if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what he is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may hide my future from me--still he knows what he is about. Theme 4: Work and the Mystery of Creation Thesis: Work is inextricably bound up with the mystery of God's creative activity: each person shares in the wonder of creation through work. The knowledge that by means of work man shares in the work of creation constitutes the 326 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 most profound motive for undertaking it in various sectors 125). In every phase of the development of his work man comes up against the leading role of the gift made by '*nature." that is. in the final analysis, by the Creator. At the beginning of man's work is the mystery of creation. This affirmation, already indicated as my starling point, is the guiding thread of this document (12). The word of God's revelation is profoundly marked by the fundamen~'al truth that man, created in the image of God, shares by his work in the activity of the Creator and that, within the limits of his own human capabilities, man in a sense continues to develop that activity, and perfects it as he advances further and further in the discovery of the resources and values contained in the whole of creation (25). Two qualities identify our humanness: depende~nce and creativity. All is gift and we have an absolut~ dependence on our Creator. Humble acceptance of these faith facts sets us free. Through the creative process order is extracted from chaos, unity is chiseled out of diversity, beauty is captured in stone, word or canvass. As Ge,rald Vann remarks: The so-called industrial revolution ran its course: and ende.d by depriving the mass of men of a fundamental right, of that without which the personality is doomed to sterility and despair: the, creativity which is the counterpart of creatureliness.3 Within these two qualities of our humanness are the duty and right of work. Cooperation can be a most thrilling human experience. God longs for us to work with him in the fulfillment of the plan of salvation. Our very activity is an essential ingredient in the building of the earth and of the kingdom! The dignity of such a mission is immeasurabli~. Yet that is precisely what our scriptural and theological understanding of work indicates: the people of God continue to share in the work of creation.i The Vatican I1 document Gaudium et Spes drives home the reality that we are a Church in the modern world, an "in" that means involve-ment. Any mentality that either despises history or refuses to invest time and energy in improvement of the world goes contrary to the Scriptures and the teaching of the Church. Participation in the mystery of creation is threatened in our time. The buildup of armaments, sufficient now to many times over destroy our planet, leads many to an attitude of pessimism if not despair. Such a consciousness causes paralysis and the mission of work goes unaccomplished. The land is not tilled, book,,are not written, songs are not sung, families are not raised, conflicts are not resolved, resources are exploited. Why not? Annihilation is not only possible but likely! Suspicion is abroad: our times are less creative because of an annihilation attitude. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from Anne Frank. With bombs dropping near her hideout and with death a constant threat, she continued to study her history lesson. Life goes on! Christian faith calls us to our creative work regardless of the dark clouds that surround us. And, of course, one of the most urgent creative 3Gerald Vann, St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: Benziger Bros., 1947), p. 27. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses works is peace. Our work must bring about a world in which war becomes impossible. Theme 5: A Spirituality of Work Thesis." Work is a means by which persons grow in union with God and participate in the paschal m.vster.v. She (the Church) sees it as her particular duty to form a spirit.uality of work which will help all people to come closer, through work. to God. the Creator and Redeemer, to participate in his salvific plan for man and the world and to deepen their friendship with Christ in their lives by accepting, through faith, a living participation in his threefold mission as Priest. Prophet and King. as the Second Vatican Council so eloquently teaches (24). This Christian spirituality should be a heritage shared by all. Especially in the modern age. the spirituality of work should show the maturity called for by the tensions and restlessness of mind and heart (25). Since work in its subjective aspect is always a personal action, an actus personae, it follows that the whole person, body and spirit, participates in it, whether it is manual or intellectual work. It is also to the whole person that the word of the living God is directed, the evangelical message of salvation, in which we find many points which concern human work and which throw particular light on it. These points need to be properly assimilated: an inner effort on the part of the human spirit, guided by faith, hope and charity, is needed in order that through these points, the work of the individual human tSeing may be given the meaning which it has in the eyes of God and by means of which work enters into the salvation process on a par with the other ordinary yet particularly important components of its texture (24). The farmer brings the seeds of the field to Eucharist for a special blessing on rural life day, thereby exercising an act of faith in God as creator of the seed and provider for its growth. The newspaper editor cries out against the injustices toward the elderly, thereby fulfilling his prophetic role of denouncing all that infringes upon human dignity and freedom. The president of a country, through policies that properly distribute funds, insures that the poor and needy have their due. The people of God are scattered throughout every profession and work situation and it is precisely in that context that they exercise their spirituality. Union with God is achieved not only through liturgical worship and the celebra-tion of the sacrament. Holiness is gained as well by finding Christ in our brothers and sisters, in the working of the land, in the artistic and intellectual achievements. All of life, permeated by God's presence and love, becomes a grace opportunity and can further the process of salvation. A spirituality of work demands three things: vision, grace and commitment. An abiding vision of the divine presence is a gift of faith. Work is not restricted to the narrow sensate culture (limiting work to the confines of time/space) nor to a humanistic betterment of the world, important as that is. Rather, faith vision situates our work as an integral part of God's salvific will. Grace, the free gift of God's self-giving which transforms our minds and hearts, is the heartbeat of a spirituality for work. Empowered by the Spirit, our work has a certain quality and tonality that makes everything different. There is a freshness, newness and sense of possibility in what is done. Eventually the work will incarnate that grace as 321~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 another sign of God's favor. Further, commitment to the person of Christ by sharing in his life, death and resurrection undergirds all Christian spirituality. The paschal mystery draws us into the dying/rising process of Christian existence. Work constantly involves dying and rising; done in union wiih Christ it allows us to become the person God calls us to be. In Zorba the Greek, Nikos Kazantzakis has one of the characters describe his experience, "I at last realized that eating was a spiritual function and that meat, bread and wine were the raw materials from which the mind is made.TM No longer is there a harsh dichotomy between the secular and the sacred, the flesh and the spirit, heaven and earth. A false dualism is rejected and the unity of existence maintained. Work and worship are not mutually exclusive; they are meant to complement and enrich one another. For some workers their highest moments of prayerful praise and thanksgiving are in the midst of their work experience. A mother caring for her child, the artist sharing the masterpiece, the nurse weeping with the terminally ill, the scientist discovering a new atomic particle, the scholar articulating an insight: nurturing, creating, caring, wondering, discovering, sharing --moments of work, grounded in sacrifice, discipline and great effort, and moments of grace. All of this contributes.to a spirituality of work because to live in God's presence with sensitivity, awareness and love is to live a spiritual life. Theme 6: Work and Questions of Justice Thesis: Work plays a significant function in the justice question: there can be no justice unless work~ is available to people in such a way that basic rights and duties are protected and promoted. In order to achieve social justice in the various parts of the world, in the various countries, and in the relationships betwyen them, there is need for ever new movements of solidarity of the workers and with the workers. This solidarity must be present whenever it is called for by the social degrading of the subject of work, by exploitation of the workers, and by the growing areas of poverty and hunger (8). It must be stressed that the constitutive element in this progress and also the most adequate way to verify it in a spirit of justice and peace, which the Church proclaims and for which she does not cease to pray to the Father of all individuals' and of all peoples, is the continual reappraisal of man's work, both in the aspect of its objective finality and in the aspect of the dignity of the subject of all work, that is to say, man. The progress in question must be made through man and for man and it must produce its fruit in man. A test of this progress will be the increasingly mature recognition of the purpose of wbrk and increasingly universal respect for the rights inherent in work in conformity with the dignity of man, the subject of work (18). While work, in all its ~any senses, is an obligation, that is to say a duty, it is also a source of rights on the part of the worker. These rights must be examined in the broad context of human rights as a whole, which are connatural with man, and many of which are proclaimed by various international organizations and increasingly guaranteed by the individual States for their citizens. Respect for this broad range of human rights constitutes the fundamental condition for peace in the modern world (16). 4Nikos Ka~,antzakis, Zorba the Greek (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1952), p. 79. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses Whenever relationships are established, certain issues of justice automatically arise. By its very definition the work relationship between employer and employee presents a mutuality of duties and rights. The encyclical addresses itself primarily to threatened rights of the employee, giving little attention to the dutie.s of the employee toward the employer. Employees' rights are numerous: the right to a just wage, the right to social benefits that ensure life and health, the right to rest, the right to pension and insurance, the right to suitable working environments, the right to strike under certain circumstances, the right to form voluntary associa-tions, the right of the disabled to productive activity suited to them, the right to emigrate in search of work. The correlative list would include the duties that come to the employer or society because of these rights. This area of justice is specific and measurable; much honesty, dialogue and planning are necessary if the ideals is to be achieved. The linkage between justice and peace is dearly articulated: Commitment to justice must be closely linked with commitment to peace in the modern world (2). Respect for this broad range of human rights constitutes the fundamental condition for peace in the modern world (16). Whenever rights are denied or duties neglected,,a profound disturbance shakes the life of individuals and society at large. Theologically we call this sin, ethically we call it injustice, sociologically we call it alienation. Regardless of the language system, the experience and its consequences are clear: the order of God's plan is broken and until reconciliation comes about, until justice is done, the fragmenta-tion continues and peace is not found in the land. Mere absence of war or conflict is not peace; rather, it is an ontological state of being, experienced when relation-ships~ are properly ordered. If charity begins at home, all the more so justice. Thus the Church as an institution must constantly strive for justice and peace within her own immediate membership. The fact that the above rights reside in her own personnel imposes an obligation on the Church as employer. This "beginning at home" is significant since authenticity of teaching and preaching constantly seeks verification in prac-tice. When the Church both teaches justice and lives it, the world has a model which affirms that the realities of justice and peace are truly possible. Theme 7: Work and Various ideologies Thesis: Work demands a meaning and various interpretations are offered by Liberalism, Marxism and Christian theology. The Marxist program, based on the philosophy of Marx and Engels, sees in class struggle the only way to eliminate class injustices in society and to eliminate the classes themselves. Putting this program into practice presupposes the collectivization of the means of production so that, through the transfer of these means from private hands to the collectivity, human labor will be preserved from exploitation (11). This consistent image, in which the principle of the primacy of person over things is strictly preserved, was broken up in human thought, sometimes after a long period of incubation in practical living. The break occurred in such a way that labor was separated from capital and 33{~ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 set m opposition to it, and capital was set in oppositioh to labor, as though they were two impersonal forces, two production factors juxtaposed in the same "economistic" perspective. This way of stating the issue contained a fundamental error, what we call the error of economism, that of considering human labor solely according to its economic purpose. This fundamental error of thought must be called an error Of materialism, in that economism directly or indirectly ~ncludes a conviction of the primary and superiority of the material, and directly or indirectly places the spiritual and the personal (man's activity, moral values and such matters) in a position of subordination to material reality (13). The only chance there seems to be for radically overcoming this error (primitive capitalism and liberalism) is through adequate changes both in theory and in practice, changes in line with the definite conviction of the primacy of the person over things, and of human labor over capital as a whole collection of means of production (13). Absolutizing is that radical instinct in thought and behavior that makes one idea or value the only idea or value. The label we attach to such a tendency is "isms": e.g., secularism holds that all reality is limited to this world--there is no transcendence; humanism measures all of life in the light of the human person-- God finds no home here; rationalism restricts valid knowledge to that gained by reason--faith vision is excluded; workism so prizes achievement and productivity that leisure (receptivity-contemplation) is meaningless if not downright evil. The encyclical deals with this proclivity to absolutize and firmly rejects certain specific "isms" that surround work. Anathema sit: Marxism that seeks a collectivism of means of production so as to infringe upon the right to private property; liberalism that fails to take into account the common good in its worship of primitive capitalism; economism that views human labor solely in terms of its economic purposes; materialism that subordinates the spiritual/personal aspects of life to material reality. Christian theology consistently seeks a balanced position that protects moral and personal and spiritual values. Thus private property is a basic' right, though the common good will severely limit this right or even exclude it under very restricted circumstances. Economic profit is necessary and justifiable but never at the expense of human dignity. Matter is part of God's creation but is subordinated to the value of the human person. The insights of Scripture and tradition are brought to bear upon the complex reality of the work world. Basic principles are articulated through careful theological reflection which provides a theory that will hopefully inform our action. The Church is not reluctant to speak out with a strong prophetic voice whenever there is encroachment upon the rights of people, be that encroachment by employer or employee. Jacob Bronowski states that "without astronomy it is really not possible to find your way over great distances, or even to have a theory about the shape of the earth and the land and sea oh it."~ Part of the Church's mission is to provide a theologicalastronomy by which the complex components of life can be assessed and prudently judged. The present papal document serves a timely purpose: it ~Jacob Bronowski, The Ascent of Man (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1973), p. 190. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses articulates a theology and a spirituality from which to observe and practice the command of God that we work, thereby building up a more human community and furthering the growth of the kingdom. Such an astronomy is no luxury, it is an absolute necessity. Theme 8: Work and its Abuse Thesis: Work, which is meant to humanize and develop persons, can become destructive when means become ends. ¯. it {the anlinomy between labor and capital) originated in the whole of the economic and social practice of that time, the time of the birth and rapid development of industrialiTation, in which what was mainly seen was the possibility of vastly increasing material wealth, means while the end, that is to say, man, who should be served by the means, was ignored (13). The primary basis of the value of work is man himself, who is its subject. This leads imme-diately to a very important conclusion of an ethical nature: however true it may be that man is destined for work and called to it, in the first place work is "for man"and not man "for work" (6}. The very process of "subduing the earth." that is to say work. is marked in the course of history and especially in recent centuries, by an immense development of technological means. This is an advantageous and positive phenomenon, on condition that the objective dimension of work does not gain the upper hand over the subjective dimension, depriving man of his dignity and inalienable rights or reducing them (i0). A gospel question focuses our attention: is man made for the Sabbath or the Sabbath for man? Jesus had to deal with the means/end question and there is nothing unclear about his answer: the Sabbath is .made for man. Ambiguity characterizes some contemporary questions arising from the world of work: What is the relationship between technology and the human person? What status does the individual have in large multinational corporations? When transfers are made, what "considerations are given to the worker's family? If profits will be less but the work situation is more humanizing, what kinds of decisions are made? Is man made for work or work for man? Historically the document states that certain means have usurped the prerogatives of the end; technology (means) has become the master and the human person (end), the slave. At this juncture, justice and peace are no more. The whole order is overturned, human freedom is lost. Simone Weil, a strong prophetic voice for the ~,alue of work in the first half of this century, worked in factories so as to experientially learn the workers' situation. Her experience was not a happy one: workers were dehumanized because they were treated simply as cogs in a large, productive m~chine. Upon reading Homer's Iliad, she extracts a universal truth about evil that applies to our present discussion: Thus in this ancient and wonderful poem there already appeared the essential evil besetting humanity, the substitution of means for ends.6 ~The Simone Weil Reader. ed, George A. Panichas (New York: David McKay Company, Inc., 1977), p. 138. 3~12 / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1982 What is so horrendous is that often this process of evil is unconscious and unin-tended. The means we use for produiztivity are happily introduced. Suddenly we wake up one morning and come to realize, that we are controlled by the very process we devised. The underlying question is one of freedom, a freedom that protects our humanity and a freedom to use tools of production wisely. Such a freedom comes only from hard-won knowledge: we cannot make prudent choices when ignorant of facts and circumstances. Education is of greatest importance here. All people involved in the working community must maintain a high level of attentiveness to attitudes, means of production, societal tendencies, subtle shifts in values. The means/end dilemma must not be blurred. Melville, in his classic Moby Dick, comments that "ignorance is the parent of fear."7 Societal fears often arise because we are ignorant of the proper relationship between means and end. With increased knowledge we are hopeful that fear will be dissipated and our freedom regained. Theme 9: Work and the Common Good Thesis: Work, through the use of natural and personal resources, is an essential force to achieve the common good. ¯. society--even when it has not yet taken on the mature form of a nation--is not only the great ~educator" of every man, even though an indirect one (because each individual absorbs within the family the contents and values that go to make up the culture of a given nation): it is also a great historical and social incarnation of the work of all generations. All of this brings it about that man combines his deepest human identity with membership of a nation, and intends his work also to increase the cor~mon good developed together with his compatriots, thus realizing that in this way work serves to add to the heritage of the whole human family, of all the people living in the world (16). Rational planning and the proper organization of human labor in keeping with individual societies and States should also facilitate the discovery of the right proportions between the different kinds of employment: work on the land. in industry, in the various services, white-collar work and scientific or artistic work, in accordance with the capacities of individuals: and for the common good of each society and of the whole of mankind (18). Here we must return once more to the first principle of the whole ethical and social order. namely, the principle of the common use of goods. In every system, regardless of the funda-mental relationships within it between capital and labor, wages, that is to say remuneration for work, are still a practical means whereby the vast majority of people have access to those goods which are intended for common use: both the good of nature and manufactured goods (19). In the document Gaudium et Spes, the fathers of the Second Vatican Council described the common good in these terms: Now. the common good embraces the sum of those conditions of social life by which individuals, families and groups can achieve their own fulfillment in a relatively thorough and ready way (74). 7Herman Melville, Moby Dick (New York: The Literary Guild of America, Inc., 1949), p. 17. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses / 333 Although somewhat nebulous in the abstract, the common good is extremely concrete and pragmatic in experience. Yet certain cultural attitudes towards pri-vate goods and vested self-interest make it difficult for the relationship between work and the common good to be properly understood. One such attitude regards comm~on good items (parks, public buildings, and so forth) as areas of exploita-tion, with no sense of personal responsibility for their upkeep or cleanliness. A mentality of privatized ownership threatens the realization of the common good. Through work 1 will take as much as 1 can without any thought of.making my contribution to the commonweal. Various writers8 are beginning to articulate a public theology and notions of a church which help to provide a vision for the protection of the common good through responsible work and concern. Several years ago there was a global experience that had the potentiality to develop social consciousness for the common good. For the first time in history, through the technology of cameras, we saw ourselves, the planet earth, from the moon. Hurling through space, like people on a small raft, brought us a realization that we are all in this together. The activity of one affects the activity of all. Responsible Work and sharing enriches the human family; failure to do so dimin-ishes and deprives people of quality life. Perhaps the moon photograph has been blurred already and the strong sense of interdependence to which we are called has been obscured by innate avariciousness. Is work done primarily for profit and personal gain? Have we forgotten the common good or disregarded it as some utopian dream? Two types of people have been known throughout history as truly human and noble: people of compassion and people of hospitality. The former have a heart that is moved deeply by the joys and sufferings of others. A'basic affinity with human experience resides deep within the being of compassionate people. Hospi-tality, that gracious welcoming of the stranger-into personal space and time, creates an environment in which the common good is realized. Regardless of.one's employment, the work~ of compassion and hospitality are universal vocations and only when they are exercised, thus producing the common good, do individual goods have any value whatever. The paradox of the gospel grain of wheat is lived again. Theme I0: Work and Communily Thesis: Work builds community by uniting people into a powerful solidarity. In fact. the family is simultaneously a community made possible by work and the first school of work, within the home, for every person (10). The call to solidarity and common action addressed to the worker--especially to those engaged in narrowly specialized, monotonous and depersonalized work in industrial plants, when the machine tends to dominate man--was important and eloquent from the point of sSee Martin E. Marty's The Public Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981)and Parker J. Palmer's The Company o.f Strangers (New York: Crossroad. 198 I). 334 / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1982 view of social ethics. It was the reaction against the degradation of man as the subject of work, and against the unheard-of accompanying exploitation in the fields of wages, working condi-tions and social security for the worker. This reaction united the working world in a commu-nity marked by great solidarity (8). It is characteristic of work that it first and foremost unites people. In this consists its social power: the power to build a community. In the final analysis, both those who work and those who manage the means of production or who own them must in some way be united in this community 120). Communities are formed when there is a common sense of identity, when there is a commitment to a specific value system, when lives are shared by mutual experience. Many work situations have these three qualities. A good schobl faculty know who they are, are committed to truth and its various expressions, and share lives professionally and, to some degree, socially. A professional sports team working together for several years establishes a strong communal bond. Work has the potential to unite people and form community, i.e., a style of work that is balanced and. person centered. What is intriguing is that often the bond of com-munity happens without conscious planning; it is a side effect of deep c6operation. Human life is complex. Like a spider's web, there are many intersecting lines in our relationships and in our multiple communities, e.g., The community to which I belong is, of course, not a static one. Sometimes it is the commu-nity of my wife and myself and my family: at other times that of my relations, of my friends, of my work colleagues, of my city or nation or international grouping. My task in each different community varies according to the particular community I am being consciously part of at any time. In some communities, I am a key figure: in others, of lesser or minimal importance. But in all of them I have a function, a duty and a responsibility and I believe I will be judged on my performance of these at the end of my time. Often I do not know exactly what that function is--but I know that basically it is to be a harmonizing influence, a peacemaker, a go-between, a catalyst, a bringer-out of good qualities in others for the sake of a group.'~ This vision of community and work depicts the range of groupings in one's life and the specific functions that we are to play. The notion of facilitator may accurately describe "the work" (the process of life itself) that will build any community. We facilitate relationships by bringing love and concern which, in turn, bring about peace and oneness. The Gospel of John states that God is always working. Jesus presents himself as the waiter, serving at table those who come for life-giving food. The thrust behind this work is community, to build and complete the Fi~ther's kingdom. Thus the dignity of the vocation of work becomes clear: as co-worker with the Lord we participate in the process of reconciliation, bringing all creation back to the Father. Whatever our task in life, however sublime or humble, we lovingly accept the charge given us and contribute to the realization of the Father's plan. Adveniat regnum ! ~On the Run: Spirituality for the Seventies, ed. by Michael F. McCauley (Chicago: The Thomas More Association. 1974). p. 138. Reflections on Leadership in the Spirit of Jesus Cecilia Murphy, R.S.M. Sister Cecilia Murphy is the President of the Sisters of Mercy of Pittsburgh. In the issue of January, 1976, Sister shared her reflections on the chapter experience of her community. In the present article, a talk given at their congregational meeting of March, 1982, she reflects on her experience of leadership in her community. Sister Cecilia resides at 3333 Fifth AveA Pittsburgh, PA 15213. Living leadership in the spirit of Jesus is a challenge to every Christian. Each follower of Jesus is called to "come after Jesus" and to show others the way. Those called to leadership in a religious congregation of Mercy bear a special responsibil-ity in this matter. How can anyone fulfill this task? My reflections on this topic are a result of trying to "bone it'--trying to dig into the essential and offer some thoughts on what is necessary for leadership in Jesus' spirit. We know Jesus through faith--faith in God's word and sacraments; faith in our personal experiences of Jesus. We know from Scripture that Jesus poured himself out for our sakes and that he taught us how to live. The commitment of our lives and our personal prayer have helped us know experientially who Jesus is, how he loves, what he asks of us: Faith, then, is the first essential for leadership. Things are not always clear and efisy, and the felt presence of the Lord is a special and temporary gift. So, the leader needs to pray for a strong faith-life, to make acts of faith, and to live in faith, believing in God's love and fidelity. Sorting out and probing the purpose of life, religious life, and its values are essential to leaders. These exercises focus leaders on "the one thing necessary." They help to keep clear the purpose of religious community and enable leaders to be conscious of the motives, fears, and choices that are operative in life. Jesus probed the meaning of life by withdrawing from others and praying to his Father in secret. Exposure to solitude and openness to God's ways are integral parts of searching. These opportunities enable leaders to be like the violinist who carefully 335 ~136 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 tunes the instrument before a symphony. Reflection enables the leader to "be in tune" with the divine pitch. Without confidence in God, religious leadership is impossible. The counsel that Catherine McAuley took to heart, to pray as if everything depended on God and act as if everything depended on us, was not only common sense, it was an inspired statement. As Jesus was ever conscious of his Father's power, so must a leader be! All works concerned with the human spirit are beyond human control. Leaders cannot change another pers6n; God reserves that to himself. Yet a leader is called to use all her human potential to create the best environment, and also to pray in confidence, knowing that God's work is ultimately carried out by God-- sometimes through her. Belief in the value of suffering is an essential for a religious leader. Jesus suffered and died. Our congregation was founded on Calvary; there are no easy roads to Mount Tabor. In each human life suffering is present, but Christians are challenged to "take up the cross." Leaders must attempt to follow the Master to Calvary. The particular kinds of suffering which best make an individual an image of Jesus are known only to the Lord. For the leader, however, many of these have something to do with various kinds of poverty. One form 6f poverty is that of spirit, "Why me, Lord?" the leader asks. "There are others holier, more insightful, more loving, more intelligent, more capable, Why me?" And'the Lord replies, "It was not because you are great but because I am great and want to use your nothingness. Don't question my choice--just cooperate." There is the poverty of unfulfilled expectations--those of the leader and those of other members. Unconsciously, leaders sometimes set expectations for them-selves which could not be fulfilled by five people, let alone one. Consider, then, the 335 members of our congregation, multiply by five, and you will have a sense of the number of expectations placed on a leader. The sense of poverty in facing all these unfulfilled expectations is a cause of great suffering. Dealing in realms beyond one's experience and capabilities creates a sense of poverty. Learning about finances, management, interacting with corporate leaders can cause a sense of being entirely out of one's element. Like Ruth, the leader must try to adapt to alien lands, to grow in new knowledge and allow the pinch of human limitations to be felt. There is the poverty of being in an "iceberg ministry." When 1 ask myself what 1 do, it is very hard to define. So much of a leader's ministry is confidential or invisible to others and sometimes to herself. Members of the congregation may wonder why all the paper communications keep filtering into a small community and exclaim, "Another paper from the Mount!" However, some leader may have worked hours trying to simplify and clarify ideas so that they could be shared with (he membership. Dialogue and interaction with members are an important part of leadership but they, too, are invisible parts of the iceberg. Leaders need. to laugh. Although the gospels do not record Jesus as laughing, we can be sure, since we are made in his image, that Jesus did enjoy life. He had Reflections on Leadership special friends, the disciples. He went off with them, shared special meals with them. Without doubt he must have often suppressed a laugh as he experienced their human condition. Leaders, too, need to relax, to have friends, to take time to unwind and be "at home" with family. Rest is a requirement for all human persons and so must leaders be renewed and refreshed. Refreshment help~ one maintain balance--an essential for leadership. Our "Government Synthesis Statement" makes explicit a tension that is inherent in leadership, the tension between internal and external concerns. How does one balance the call to broader church and civic leadership with the need to provide for the growth and development of the membership? There is no answer to that question, only the ongoing struggle to live authentically in that tension. As Jesus lived the tension of the Agony in the Garden, he prayed for the accomplishment of the Father's will. He prayed for courage to fulfill his mission. Leaders need courage, a courage which is strengthened by conviction; made more difficult by uncertainty. In relating to individuals and the total congregation, the leader needs courage to risk--risk to be wrong even when acting in good faith. Leaders can make mistakes and they need courage to face mistakes honestly. Tomorrow's leaders will also need courage to fulfill our "Government Synthe-sis Statement" which calls them to use our corporate power on behalf of the poor. This challenge will take courage and wisdom on the part of the leaders and generosity and willingness for conversion on the part of the membership. As Jesus listened to Nicodemus, so a leader must listen to God, the members, the Church, the world. Jesus was a sensitive listener when he attempted to deal with the needs of others. In Jesus the leader has the perfect model of attentive listening and response to others. Leadership in religious congregations requires a deep realization of the divine help that comes from the prayers of the sisters. Likewise it calls forth a daily prayer: "Glory to him whose power working in me can do infinitely more than 1 can ask or imagine!" Tedium and Burnout in Religious Life Mary Elizabeth Kenel Dr. K(nel, as well as maintaining a private practice in Washington, is a field supervisor in the pastoral counseling program of Loyola College in Baltimore. She may be addressed at 901 Perry Place, N.E.: Washington; DC 20017. In recent years mu~ch of the research in the area of social psychology has focused on the phenomena of tedium and burnout, primarily as these apply to the workers in the human services fields. These phenomena are by no means limited to members of these groups, however, and researchers are investigating burnout at various phases of the life cycle: the tedium experienced by college students, burn-out in marriage and parenting, and that demonstrated in the mid-life and mid-career crises. Everyone at some time or another is vulnerable to the stresses of tedium and burnout and religious are no exception. Indeed, the very qualities that are com-mon to those aspiring to religious life and a ministry of service tend to render religious as a group vulnerable to the burnout syndrome. The term "burnout" was first introduced by Herbert J. Freudenberger~ in his articles on staff burnout in the help-giving inst.itutions. Since that time a number of other authors have made use of the term and have given it various definitions. Edelwich2 defines burnout as a progressive loss of idealism, energy, and purpose experienced by people in the helping professions as a result of the conditions of their work. Pines and Aronson3 define tedium as the experience of physical, ~ Freudenberger, H. J. "Staff Burn-out," Journal of Social Issues, 1974, 30(I) pp. 159-165. 2Edelwich, J., Burn-Out, Stages of Disillusionment in the Helping Professions. Human Sciences Press, New York, 1980. p. 14. ~Pines, A. M. and Aronson, E., Burnout, From Tedium to Personal Growth, The Free Press, New York. 1981. p. 15. 338 Tedium and Burnout in Religious Life emotional and mental exhaustion characterized by emotional and physical deple-tion and by the negation of one's self, one's environment, one's work, and even one's life. They consider burnout to be identical to tedium in definition and symptoms but apply the term particularly to those who work with people in situations that are emotionally demanding. While both tedium and burnout are accompanied by a constellation of symp-toms that include fatigue, lack of enthusiasm, and feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, burnout may be thought of as a state of mind that afflicts those individuals whose work requires that they pour in much more than they get in return, be that return from clients, patients, students, superiors or peers. The dedicatory nature of the vows can set the stage for burnout. Take, for example, a motto instilled during a novitiate instruction: "Chastity loves without seeking a return." A literal interpretation and acceptance of such an ideal can readily lead to burnout as the religious' energies are depleted over time. One of the biggest difficulties with the concept of burnout, however, is that it has become fashionable, a new item in the evergrowing dictionary of psychobab-ble. Burnout as such has no formal psychiatric status and, indeed, many would see it as depression. The literature, however, tends more and more to distinguish between the two concepts and relates burnout to the environmental stresses under which a person works rather than to intrapsychic forces. The onset of tedium/burnout is rarely the result of a single traumatic or disillusioning event. More typically it is the result of a gradual erosion of strength and spirit. Edelwich,4 for example, recognizes a series.of stages that range from idealistic enthusiasm to apathy. The victims of burnout tend to be those who had once been amoiag the most idealistic and ardent, those who at one time were most enthusiastic and joyful. This is hardly surprising, for nearly every author in the field has noted that in order to burn out one must have been on fire at some point. It is the intent of the remainder of this article to examine the antecedents to burnout and tedium as well as to examine the stages of development that lead fr9m enthusiasm to apathy. To the extent that individual religious and communi-ties can recognize and anticipate burnout they will be better able to avoid the ineffectual, wishful remedies that are often practiced and seek more realistic coping mechanisms. A positive ~pproach to the problems of tedium and burnout, then, will not be based on the hope of total prevention which is almost impossible to achieve, but on the realization that it will happen, even repeatedly, and must be dealt with on an ongbing basis. As with any other life crisis, burnout can be turned to advantage in that it can energize a person to break out of a rut. Creative use of frustration can become a stimulus to the kind of enthusiasm it generally erodes. Antecedents to Burnout Research5 on the phenomenon of burnout as it applies to human service 4Edelwich, J. op. cir. pp. 28-29. 5Pines, A. M., and Aronson, E. op cir., pp. 48-54. 3tll~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 workers has identified three common antecedents that would apply equally well to religious. 1. Work That Is Emotionally Demanding In the human serVice professions people work with others in situations that are emotionally draining over long periods of time, during which they are exposed to their clients' physical, social, and psychological problems and are expected to be both skillful and concerned. A similar expectation is placed on priests, brothers and sisters in virtue of their religious profession, in addition, members of religious groups are frequently actively engaged in human service occupations such as teaching, nursing, and counseling. Think, for example then, of the emotional toll of working with the terminally ill, with the mentally ill, with those who have lost loved ones--especially when one's religious profession means one is also expected to explain "God's Will" in these situations. 2. Characteristics of the Professionals Themselves Pines and Aronson6 note that in the human services the occupational task acts as a screening device that attracts people with particular types of personal attrib-utes. The same is true of religious life. Think of the adjectives used to describe priests and religious in terms of the concept of mirfistry. Words such as dedicated, service, and other-oriented are frequently mentioned. 3. Client-Centered Orientation As is the case for members of human services teams, religious focus on people receiving their service. The role of provider of help, understanding, and support is defined by the client's needs with relatively little attention paid to the needs of the professional or the religious. A strictly client-centered orientation does not permit a symmetrical relationship of mutual give and take. Instead a complementary relationship is set up in which the religious or human service worker is expected to give while the client receives. Common to both situations is a dedicatory ethic that elevates service motives and presents work not merely as a "job" but as a "voca-tion" or "calling" in which the reward is supposed to be inherent in the giving. The Prayer of Saint Francis captures this thought: "It is in giving that we receive . 4. Other Antecedents to Burnout In addition to those areas delineated by Pines and Aronson there are a number of other antecedents to burnout that need to be considered. One is that of a lack of criteria for measuring one's accomplishment. There is sufficient difficulty in attempting to define accomplishments in the therapeutic field. How much more so in th6 religious life. How does one define one's success as nPines, A. M. and Aronson. E. ibid., pp. 51-52. Tedium and Burnout in Religious Ltfe 311"1 a "religious"? Does one play the "numbers game"---how many converts, baptisms, hours of donated service? And if there are no hard-and-fast criteria for success, how then does one set standards for reviewing one's life and work? Another source of difficulty lies in the area of career advancement. Far too often the religious who has entered upon a particular form of active ministry because of a desire to work with people is "promoted" to an administrative posi-tion that. while enlarging his or her sphere of influence, many times results in loss of client contact and ultimately in loss of job satisfaction. Antecedents to Tedium While religious life itself is a form of other-oriented profession in which many members actually do work in the human services area, it also has a bureaucratic and hierarchical structure and as such shares many of the antecedents of tedium found in business or government organizations. The literature describes organizational structure as a major determinant of job performance, satisfaction, and tedium.7 Pines and Aronson8 identified three major antecedents of tedium. 1. Overload Overload is a key concept in studies of job stress and its effect on health and can be viewed as having objective/,su.bjective and quantitative/quali!ative dimen-sions. Objective overload refers to the actual volume of work to be processed per unit of time while subjective overload refers to the person's feeling that there is too much work to be done or that it is too hard. Quantitative overload implies that one actually has more real work than can be handled per unit time. Qualitative overload, on the other hand, indicates that the work load demands skills, knowl-edge or training exceeding that of the person assigned a given task. That objective, quantitative overlo.ad is part and parcel of the daily life of most religious hardly needs mentioning. Schedules tend to be full to overflowing and many a prayer has been offered for a few extra hours in the day as well as another pair of hands. Qualitative overload, however, may be even more stressful in the long run and more likely to induce tedium. In a situation of qualitative overload unrealistic ex, pectations are placed on an individual or group who must then deal not merely with the realities of the workload but with a sense of inadequacy and personal failure when it becomes impossible to live up to those "great expecta-. tions." Fortunately, in more recent years superiors and formation personnel have attempted to see to it that people are trained prior to placement in a specific position. With personnel shortages, however, it is tempting to appeal to the per- 7Armstrong. K. 1. "'How Can We Avoid Burnout. Child Abuse and Neglect: Issues in Innovation and Implementation." DHEW Publication #(OHDS) 78-30148. 2(1978). pp. 230-238. ~Pines. A. M. and Aronson. E. op cir. pp. 67-72. 3t12 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 son's "generosity and sense of mission" and propel him or her into a position for which he or she is unprepared and in which he or she expends tremendous energy simply to "stay afloat." 2: I~ek of Autonomy In any area of life, lack of control over one's environment is a highly stressful experience and frequently enough leads to the learned helplessness phenomenon observed by Seligman.9 In this depressed state the person tends !o attribute success to "luck" or "chance" or other forces outside his or her control while accepting full responsibility for failures. A perceived lack of autonomy and the frustration resulting from such a lack is a common cause of tedium in organizations of all types, .for job satisfaction declines as the individual is more burdened by unnecessary rules and red tape and lacks voice in decisions that affect the job and his or her life. Lack of autonomy can also be aggravated by a communication gap between superiors and those further down the organizational hierarchy. This gap may be due to the inherent inefficiencies of communication in large organizations or to differing perspectives among superiors and those actively engaged in a given work. It is necessary then to attempt to build organizational structures that will avoid, to some extent, these pitfalls. The problem of autonomy is a thorny one for religious. Balance must be achieved between a legitimate need for autonomy that is part and parcel of healthy adult functioning and the demand of religious obedience that is, perhaps, the very heart of the religious commitment. To some extent community structures have always made some provision for autonomy, for example, those having perpetual vows might vo~e for the superior, serve as councilors, or in other ways voice an ~pinion on community matters. The proverbial "planting cabbages upside down" type of blind obedience is also a.thing of the past. More recent changes in community life have attempted to address this need for autonomy. For example, the matter of annual assignments is now often handled on ~ consultative basis with the individual religiot~s I~a~'ing more input into the decision than was previously the case. Community meetings 6n the local, regional, and national/international levels also serve to keep the lines of communi-cation open and flowing upward, not merely downward. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the religious, by virtue of the vow of obedience, does surrender much personal autonomy. This surrender is often felt most keenly n.ot'in the early years but later as one must deal with one's own growth and developmeht as a ]'esponsi-ble adult. Much of the "mid-life crisis" seen in religious life centers around the issue of autonomy, the need for personal space and the integration of such concepts as 9Seligman. M. E. Helplessness: On De.pression Development and Death, San Francisco: Freeman Press. 1979. Tedium and Burnout in Religious Ltfe / 343 ob¢dience, choice, power, accountability, and responsibility. Perhaps one of the ways to resolve this conflict is to keep some progressive vision of what the com-munity (small group or larger organization) might accomplish and nurture the scope and consciousness of discretionary behavior. In most life situations things usually are more flexible than they might initially appear. Evaluating the possibili-ties for positive change and focusing one's energies in the realm of the possible enhance one's sense of legitimate power and control. The religious who can be attentive to authority, who can blend personal goals with community goals, and who recognizes both the extent and limit of his or her discretionary power is not as likely to suffer the lack of autonomy that leads to tedium. 3. Lack of Rewards It is indeed unfortunate that most organizations are inefficient in the distribution of rewards, appreciation and recognition, as this contributes to dis-couragement and demoralization among the members and can eventually lead to tedium. It is surprising that better use is not made of the power of positive reinforcement, for common sense would suggest, and research has confirmed, that people are far more able to tolerate considerable stress in situations in which they feel appreciated and their efforts recognized than in those in which they feel the rewards are not commensurate with their efforts. Religious are definitely not exempt from the need for rewards and recognition. Indeed, the absence of high levels of financial remuneration make it imperative that social rewards be given. It is all well and good to appeal to altruistic and spiritual motives, but positive feedback has tremendous reinforcement value that is far too often ignored. As a result, the religious who is.often enough already unpaid or underpaid is deprived of the satisfaction derived from well-earned recognition. Another aspect that frequently causes pain is the fact that the religious may be appreciated by those with whom he or she serves yet get little or no recognition from within the community. It remains true today "there is no respect for a ¯ prophet in his own country" Jn 4:44. While it is true that one should not rely solely on one's superiors for praise there is a need for ~ecognition by one's peers that is often lacking. It is frequently the presence or lack of support at the local level that can make the difference between a vital, contributing team member and a "burnt-out case." Stages of Disillusionment Edelwicht0 defines five stages in the process of disillusionment. Stage one, that of initial enthusiasm, is that period of high hopes, high energy and unrealistic expectaiions when one does not know what the job is all about. In religious life this would typically correspond to the novitiate and formation period as well as the early years of active ministry. 1 recall hearing a novice describe with great anima- I°Edelwich. J., op. cit. pp. 28-29. 344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 tion the ceremony of initial profession of another sister. The formula of vows, written by the sister, concluded with the words "Surprise me, Jesus!" An older priest seated next to me turned to me, smiled ruefully, and said sotto voce "He will." The second stage is that of stagnation. It is at this point that one's ministry is no longer so satisfying as to substitute for everything else in life. "Is that all there is?" seems to sum up the feelings of this stage. There is a shift in emphasis at this point from meeting the needs of others to meeting one's own needs. For the religious formed in an other-oriented tradition this shift in emphasis can often be accompanied by feelings of guilt and loss of self-esteem as he or she senses that the fervor which marked the early days of religious life has diminished, Edelwich~ calls his third stage that of frustration. It is at this point that one tends to question not merely one's own effectiveness in the ministry but the value of religious life and ministry itself. Frequently emotional, physical and behavioral problems emerge at this stage. The fourth stage, that of apathy, sets in when a person is chronically frustrated. Apathy as such is a typical defense mechanism that occurs after repeated frustra-tion and is analogous to the learned-helplessness phenomenon mentioned earlier. At this point no new challenges are undertaken and one seems to "go through the motions," doing the minimum required to avoid censure. The stage of intervention is defined as whatever is done in response to or in anticipation of the four preceding stages. Intervention attempts to break the cyc!e. It may involve a restructuring of relationships to clients, family, friends and com-munity. It may mean seeking advanced training and new areas of apostolic work. It may, in some instances, mean leaving the ministry and religious life altogether. The Special Problems of Women Religious The antecedents of burnout and tedium mentioned here apply equally well to both male and female religious. The literature has noted, however, that profes-sional women bear a special burden not shared by men. For example, the conflict between career and home demands is more sharply delineated for a woman who, in the effort to balance both, may seek to become a "Superwoman." This sort of role conflict would also appear to be more keenly felt by women religious than by men. Communities of women seem to place more stress on creating a homelike atmosphere in which there is a fairly high level of mutual interaction and group activity. While such a structure has the potential for providing a great deal of warmth and support, the time needed to foster and maintain these community relationships may cause tension if community activities are seen as competing with the demands of one's ministry. Another major contribution to the burnout of women is sexism. As Edelwich~-' ~qbid. p. 29. Tedium and Burnout in Religious 13fe / ~4~3 notes, in the business and professional world large numbers of women are employed in positions of structured inferiority. Sexual stereotyping influences job assignments, allocation of responsibilities and standards of conduct. Sexual polar-ization commonly reinforces polarization by rank and status. This same pattern of sexual discrimination is found within the Church. The hierarchical structure is male dominated and its influence pervades the entire area of religious life and ministry. There is no need even to enter upon a discussion of ordination of women. Think at a more everyday level of the small put-downs, the questions regarding competence, the paternalism that is found all too frequently. How often does "the pastor" win his point by sheer weight of authority rather than by the merits of the case? How many male religious are comfortable dealing with attractive, educated women as peers? How often has a sister's name been reduced to a diminutive form ¯. in jest, of course? How does the treatment afforded male and female faculty members compare--or differ? Needless to say, the additional burden of dealing with one's femaleness takes its toll, for if a woman is sensitive, the professional struggles can be more frustrating. If she is empathic, the suffering she encounters is felt more sharply. If she knew herself as a caring person and a dedicated religious, recognition that she is no longer moved by the needs of others is more crushing. Coping Strategies Once aware of the potential for the development 6f tedium and burnout, what coping strategies can be introduced? This selection will attempt to present coping mechanisms at three levels:, the organizational, the interpersonal, and the intrapersonal. At the organizational level one can seek to reduce tedium and burnout by reducing the overload, making alternative forms of service available to the reli-gious, and by limiting the hours of stressful work. Community-based pre-retirement programs have already begun to make use of these concepts. By extending them to a broader range of personnel, severe forms of burnout may be prevented or at least reduced. Training, of course, is essential, not merely the initial formal education that would prepare the religious for his or her chosen field but continuing education where the !~eligious is given an opportunity to examine the pressures of the ministry, clarify goals and priorities, consider coping mechanisms and develop new skills. In the initial phases of formation training, the interventions appropriate to the stage of idealistic enthusiasm~3 should be taught. Novices or professed in temporary vows should be made aware of the discrepancy between expectations and reality and learn to moderate their enthusiasms before they become bogged down in the stage of stagnation. During this phase of formation the young religious should be taught to examine their motives for entering on ~21bid. p. 18. ~-~lbid. pp. 212-220. 3116/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 certain modes of ministry. The need to be needed is a powerful one as is the need to exert control, a motive that one tends to find if one scratches the surface of altruism. With awareness of their own motives religious can use their emotional investment in the ministry as the basis for insight rather than an acting out of their own needs at the expense of those they set out to serve. In an effort to avoid or at least reduce tedium and burnout, thought should also be given to providing positive work conditions that are suited to the needs of the individual and to assisting the religious to gain a sense of work significance. To achieve this end, as far as possible set clear organizationa| objectives, provide feedback and give the individual appreciation for his or her efforts and accomplishments. On the interpersonal level the development of social support systems is essen-tial. Although the conflicting or ambiguous demands of various systems can lead to burnout, on the whole the efficient and creative use of a social support system is one of ttie most effective ways of coping with the burnout syndrome. Social support systems may be defined as lasting interpersonal ties to groups of people who can be counted on to provide emotional sustenance, assistance, and resources in periods of need and stress, who provide feedback, both positive and negative, and who share standards and values. Ideally, one would belong to several supportive groups: community, family, work, recreational, and avocational. William Glasser~4 in his book, Reality Ther-apy, speaks of the dangers of the "small world." In such a situation, one group, for example, the community or work group, becomes the center of one's entire life and the source of all one's emotional and psychological support. Pines and Aronson~5 list six functions of a social support system, namely: listening, technical support, technical challenge, emotional support, emotional challenge, and the providing of social reality. Rather than expect that'one person or one set of people meet each of these needs, it is helpful to the religious to differentiate the support functions one can get from a given source and seek fulfillment of other needs from other groups. Not to do so places a tremendous burdbn on the sole source of support and leads to disappointment and anger when one's needs are not met. A number of coping strategies that would serve to reduce the likelihood of burnout are open to the individual religious. Among the variables that reduce the severity of burnout are learning, meaning and significance, success and achieve-ment, and variety.~6 Learning and understanding and a healthy curiosity are basic motivators. In the stage of stagnation new learning can open the door to new aspects of one's work and prevent the sort of burnout that accompanies one's perception of being at a dead end. Learning need not involve formal instruction; an attitude of open- V~Glasser, W., Reality Therapy. New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1975, p. 30. ~SPines. A. M., and Aronson, E., op. cir., p. 124." ~Pines, A. M., and Aronson. E., ibid., pp. 143-144. Tedium and Burnout in l~eligious Ltfe/ 347 n~ss to new experience can serve to keep one interested and alert. ~, Finding or creating meaning and significance in one's work and life is essential. Without these ingredients one becomes apathetic, alienated from oneself and others. Viktor Franklt7 recognized this and incorporated the struggle of the mature person to find, meaning in life into his work Man's Search For Meaning. "Nothing succeeds like success" goes the old maxim and nothing can eliminate burnout more effectively than the acknowledgment of one's achievements. Reli-gious, perhaps more than others, need to learn to acknowledge and enjoy their own successes before pushing on to new challenges. Certainly the drive for success can be self-destructive if one becomes obsessed with competing and pushes for "success" in the absence of other rewards. Nevertheless the religious needs to learn to define areas of accomplishment in which he/she can take justifiable pride. Monotonous activities lead to tedium whether they be found in a work or a non-work situation. A sense of variety and interest, on the other hand, originating largely with the person can susiain one in the ministerial field. Variety need not be a matter of outside stimulation, although that is certainly useful, but can be achieved by an openness to the uniqueness of the people with whom one works or whom one serves. Other ways of seeking variety include job changes within one's field or more total changes that involve seeking a new path. The career changes taking place more and more often at mid-life reflect this desire for variety. One coping mechanism mentioned by Pines and Aronson~8 was the develop-ment of an attitude of detached concern, which they defined as a stance in which the empathic professional (or religious) is sufficiently detached or objective in his attitudes toward the client to exercise sound judgment and keep his/her equanim-ity, yet also have enough concern for the client to give sensitive, understanding service. To attempt such a stance requires a delicate sense of balance. It is a process phenomenon, not a static entity that once achieved is dever lost. The religious needs to discern the level of emotional involvement proper for each person/situa-tion he or she encounters, avoiding a draining, ineffectual overinvolvement on the one hand and a clinical coldness that dehumanizes on the other. Compartmentalization~ is another way suggested by Pines and Aronson~9 to keep a balance between energy invested in the work sphere and the energy invested in life outside of work. This is one area that may prove problematic as there are still many community situations in 'which the religious both work and live together. Situations such as these tend to foster the creation of the "small world" mentioned earlier, and negative feelings generated in one sphere tend to carry over into the other. Newer community structures have attempted to alleviate these difficulties by establishing residences that are not identified with one particular ~TFrankl, V. Man's Search.for Meaning. Boston: Beacon Press. 1963. ~Pines. A. M. and Aronson, E., op. cir., pp. 54-55. ¯ ~91bid., p. 164. ~1411 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 form of ministry. The residents work at a variety of jobs and in'several differe~at locations and "come home" when their workday is ended. While no single living arrangement is perfect, one such as this does provide the individual religious with an opportunity to separate work demands from other aspects of his/her life. Perhaps the most important of the coping mechanisms open to the individual religious is that of "being good to oneself" or "doing to oneself as you have done to your client." Committed religious tend to burn out because they take on too much for too long and with too much intensity. To reduce the likelihood of burnout one needs an awareness of work stresses and a recognition of the danger signs. One also needs to acknowledge areas of vulnerability and put reasonable limits on one's work for there will always be more that could be done. in addition, one needs to set realistic goals, both long-term and short-term, and be willing to provide for one's own needs, treating oneself as a person with legitimate needs, taking time for prayer and pleasure and nourishing oneself so that there will be strength available to continue the service to which one is called, that with St. Paul one can state: ". my life is already being poured away as a libation . 1 have fought the good fight, 1 have run the race to the finish, I have kept the faith" (2 Tm 4:6-7). Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning Ps 30:5. Morning Cometh A Quotella Weeping that weeps me far away May bring the night and end the day. Endure: For the human heart is a finite flask, A bottle whose meager store of tears Night and pain may cause to flow. But even as the last tear falls Joy, as the light, lifts my heart and so, Cometh the dawn. In balance must all things lie. The source of nighttime tears allow Morning to come at last somehow. C. Dell Turney 4108 Little Fairfield Eureka, CA 95501 Prayer As an Act of Justice Mary Lou Theisen, 1. H. M. Since September, Sister Mary Lou has been involved in the Active Spirituality program, located in Seton Hall of Mount St. Joseph College, Mount St. Joseph, OH 45051. This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly. to love tenderly. to walk humbly with your God (Mi 6:8). In this simple statement uttered through the mouth of the prophet Micah, God reveals to us for all times the essence of religion. Religion, in the purity of its meaning, is not an ethic nor a multiplication of actions, but a way of life--an integral act lived out in the intggrity of one's being. In this single act there is no dichotomy between acting justly, loving tenderly or walking humbly before God: one element flows from and feeds into the others, finding its true mehning only in conjunction with them. The purpose of this article is to show how true prayer (walking humbly with God), entered into in the integrity of our being, not only leads to actions of justice, but is in itself an act of justice. In his Dictionary of the Bible,~ John McKenzie points out that the Hebrew word sedek, which we translate as justice, is a very complex term embracing the concepts of judgment and righteousness. It is sometimes translated as integrity and implies a right balance born of fidelity to the truth of what something or someone is supposed to be. To be just or to act justly in the biblical sense, therefore, is first of all to be judged righteous or to be justified by God. To seek justice is to seek salvation or justification in truth. To seek justice is to seek God. To act justly is to tMcKenzie, John L., Dictionary of the Btble (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing CO. 1965). 349 351~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 act out of the truth of who we and others are in the authenticity of our being. This truth is discovered ~nd entered into in times of solitude, in times of walking humbly with God, when we are unable to hide behind our actions, our words, or any of the multiple walls we so often build around our true self. It is in solitude that we are forced to come face to face with our sinfulness and inability to save ourself. In solitude we also experience God's willingness to forgive, his power and desire to save (justify) us and all people. Let us reflect for a while on Jesus, to see this reality present in his prayer/life. In Hebrews 5:7-9 we read: During his life on earth, he offered up prayer and entreaty, aloud and in silent tears to the one who alone had the power to save him from death, and he submitted so humbly that his prayer was heard. Although he ~vas son. he learned obedience through suffering: but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order of Melchizedek. St. Paul is here indicating that it was du.ring his time spent in intimate com-munion with his Father, in the solitude of the desert or on the hilltop, that Jesus came to realize and to accept who he was, to realize and to accept his call as the Messiah, the "Beloved Son," with all that this call meant for himself and for others. During these times of reflecting on what was happening in his own life in the light of the words of the prophets and psalms, Jesus came to the truth of his human condition as one destined for misunderstanding, betrayal, suffering, and a death from which he was unable to save himself: This is what I meant when I said, while 1 was still with you, that everything written about me in the law of Moses. in the prophets and in the Psalms has to be fulfilled. He then opened their minds to understand the Scriptures and he said to them: So you see hoffit was written that the Christ would suffer and on the third day rise from the dead (Lk 24:44-47). More importantly, however, through his own reflections on Scripture, Jesus came to know and to trust in the truth of God's faithfulness which alone could and would justify him, and through him, all people: But now. thus says Yahweh: Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you: 1 have called you by your name. you are mine. Should you pass through the sea. 1 will be with you, or through rivers, they will not swallow you up. Should you walk through fire, you will not be scorched and the flames will not burn you. For 1 am Yahweh. your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior (Is 43: I-3). He said to me, You are my servant in whom I shall be glorified: while I was thinking, I have toiled in vain, I have exhausted myself for nothing: and all the while my cause was with Yahweh. my God was my strength. And now Yahweh has spoken, he who formed me to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him. to gather Israel to him (Is 49:3-5). This inner realization of who he was in truth and of the power of God's faithfulness working in and through him formed Jesus as an authentic person of justice, both in the biblical sense of one who receives his justification from God, and in practice. Being convinced in the core of his being that it was his Father's love and faithfulness which saved and justified him, Jesus could only act justly Prayer as an Act of Justice / 35"1 toward others for he knew that this gift of God's saving love was not meant for him alone: It is not enough for you to be my servant. 1 will make you the light of nations so my salvation may reach the ends of the earth (Is 50:6). I. Yahweh. have called you to serve the cause of right: I have taken you by the hand and formed you: I have appointed you as covenant of the people and light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison and those who walk in darkness from the dungeon (Is 42:6-7). As Donald Senior states so well in his insightful book Jesus--a Gospel Por-trait2 (p. 138): "From his intimate life of prayer with his Father and from a powerful searching of Scriptures, Jesus had forged the basic convictions that animated his life and ministry. Basic convictions about God as loving Father and about love as fundamental bond of human relationships were joined to an unshakable integrity that translated principle into action.~ The gospels tell us that this action at times took the form of speaking out against the social injustices of his day. He especially denounced the so-called religious leaders, not as much for their smugness and legalistic interpretation of religion as for their inability to recognize God as a God of love and their own lack of love and compassion: "But alas for you pharisees! You who pay your tithe of mint and rue and all sorts of garden herbs and overlook justice and the love of God" (Lk i 1:42). Jesus' conviction, born of his own reflection on Scripture and his own expe-rience, that God was a God of love whose love and salvation was gratuitously given to all--the just and the unjust, the clean and the unclean, the poor and the rich, the sinners and the outcasts as well as the good and self-righteous--led him not only to denounce the systemic injustices of his time, but more especially to live out of his conviction in his own daily encounters with others. He associated with the sinners, the outcasts, the sick, the poor, as well as with the rich and the righteous, showing by his very presence to them his acceptance and respect of them as individuals. By his gentleness, love and compassion for each one he offered them the experience of God's liberating and compassionate love for them, while always respecting their own integrity as persons and never forcing his vision on them (e.g., the rich you'ng man). It was precisely this attitude of Jesus toward others, his acceptance of sinner and righteous alike, which was the greatest affront to the religious leaders of his day for it contradicted their notion of religion: that one was saved by his own actions, by his minute observance of the law. Consequently, opposition toward Jesus and his teachings grew among the leaders. Jesus, well aware of this increas-ing hostility, was compelled to rely more and more on his Father's faithfulness to save him: Now my soul is troubled. What shall I say: Father. save me from this hour? But it was for this :Senior. Donald, C.P. Jesus, a Gospel Portrait (Dayton: Pflaum. 1975). 359 / Review for Religious, May-June 1982 very reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name (Jn 12:27-28)! Jesus' human struggle to accept his salvation from God and not from his own actions reached its peak in the garden when he pi'ayed in agony, "Father, if it is possible let this chalice pass. Nevertheless, let your will be done, not mine." This total surrender of his person to God's saving plan for him brought Jesus then to his ultimate moment of prayer--his death on the cross. At the moment of death, when, we are told, one's entire life passes before one's eyes and the dying person often speaks a.word which expresses not only what is being experienced at that moment, but which somehow summarizes an entire lifetime, it was not surprising that Jesus spoke from his heart the opening words of Psalm 22. This psalm, which must have been one on which Jesus meditated often during his life and especially at the end when he knew his death was imminent, truly summarizes his life and death experiences. Although spoken in a moment of extreme agony and intense feeling of being abandoned by God, the psalm is not one of despair, but one of ultimate trust in God's power and willingness to save him as his ancestors who had trusted in God had been saved: Yet. Holy One. you who make your home in the praises of Israel. in you our fathers put their trust. they trusted and you rescued them: they called to you for help and they were saved. they never trusted you in vaifi (3-5). It is a psalm of praise to the God who is already saving him in spite of all the evidence to the contrary: Do not stand aside, Yahweh. O my strength, come quickly to my help . Then I will proclaim your name to my brothers, praise you in the full assembly: you who fear Yahweh. praise him! Entire race of Jacob, glorify him! Entire race of Israel, revere him! For he has not despised or disdained the poor man in his poverty, has not hidden his face from him, but has answered him when he called ( 19, 22-24). In this moment of abandonment to the mercy of God who is already saving him in his faithfulness, Jesus is very aware that the meaning of his life and death is not only for his own justification but for that of all peoples: You are the theme of my praise in the Great Assembly. I perform my vows in the presence of those Who ~ar him. The poor will receive as much as they want to eat. Those who seek Yahweh will praise him. Long life to their hearts. The whole earth from end to end. will remember Prayer as an Act of Justice / 353 and come back to Yahweh: All the families of the nations will bow down before him. For Yahweh reigns, the ruler of nations! Before him all the prosperous of the earth will bow down, And my soul will live for him. my children will serve him: Men will proclaim the Lord to generations still to come, His righteousness (justice, salvation) to a people yet unborn. All this he has done (25-31)! Thus Jesus' greatest act of justice in the biblical, as well as the practical, sense occurred at the moment of his death. In that very act of surrender of all that he was to God's saving plan for him, he became justified himself and by that same act won justification for all peoples: Altho.ugh he was son, he learnt to obey through suffering, but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation (Heb 5:8-9). ¯. in whom, through his blood, we gain our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins (Ep 1:7). What does this reflection on the prayer/life of Jesus have to say to us today as we strive to live an integrated life of prayer and justice? It means, first of all, that like Jesus we must learn to seek our own justification and that of others from God and not from our own actions, and to trust in his faithfulness to save us. Like Jesus, we must take time apart to reflect on our !ife in the light of Scripture and learn who we truly are and to what we have been called. In these times of quiet aloneness with God we will come to know ourselves in all of our weakness, sinfulness, and inability to save ourselves or anyone else. But, more importantly, we will also come to know who God is and in this light to know our true self as one already loved, forgiven, called and empowered by God through the blood of Jesus. As with Jesus, this inner conviction of who we are in truth and of the power of God's faithfulness working in and through us will form us as authentic persons of justici~ in the core of our being. Convinced of God's love and faithfulness which has already justified us by gratuitously forgiving our sinfulness in the blood of Jesus, we will be moved to act justly toward others. As with Jesus, this conviction will at times take the form of speaking out against the injustices of our day, of working to bring about a more just social order, and of supporting others who do this. In our daily life, it will affect ourattitude toward others, moving us to accept and affirm the integrity of each individual we encounter, for each has already been loved, forgiven and called to salvation by God. What greater act. of justice can we extend to another than to allow that person the space to discover and act out of his/her own authenticity as Jesus did with those he encountered', instead of forcing our vision on that person? Animated with the Spirit of Jesus we will, then, become."doers" of justice, of liberation in our world, each according to the call experienced in his/her honest encounter with God in prayer. However, like Jesus, in this very act of prayer itself, we will have .already entered into an act of justice. In coming before God in prayer we are acknowledg-ing our own inability~to save burselves and our need to be justified by God. In the 354 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 act of surrendering ourselves in openness to God's power to save us, we enter into the death of Jesus, crying out as he did from our own emptiness for God's saving opresence in our life, while at the same time gratefully accepting the justification we have already received through God's faithftilness to Jesus on the cross. Since through our baptism, as St. Paul tells us, we have been baptized into this death of Jesus, our prayers of surrender, of praise, of trust and gratitude, our prayers for mercy--entered into in the integrity of who we are and of who God is--are an integral part of the prayer of Jesus on the cross. Our prayers are the prayers of the Just One who came to bring justice and truth to all people, and who continues to do so in and through each person who accepts salvation from God. The greatest articulation of this prayer is, of course, the Eucharist. Here we actually participate, with gratitude (Eucharist--thanksgiving), in the eternal act of justification won by Jesus on the cross and reenacted each day "for the glory of God's name, for our own good and for the good of all the world." Moreover, because this death of Jesus into which we have been baptized was for the justification of all people for all time, every prayer of a baptized person affects the whole world for it can never be said in isolation. "A final thing that needs to be said about prayer is that it is always corporate. We often distinguish between private and public prayer, and to an extent this distinction is valid. But whether private or public, Christian prayer is always common, communal, corpo-rate. All Christian prayer is to our Father. in prayer we are united with our brothers and sisters, whether we are alone in our closet or together in our com-munity: we are united to the whole church. The prayer of the community is not a collection of individual prayers: it is common prayer out of our common plight to our common Lord in our common hope. We pray as part of the communion of saints, joining the whole people of God in all history and around the globe."3 Thus, as a person baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, and who has experienced in one's own life the love and saving power of God, the Christian is able to come before God in Jesus' name to offer to God in his/her own person all of the love and gratitude, the care, concern and work toward the establishment ¯ of the kingdom which is being experienced and lived out, knowingly or unknow-ingly, by every person in the world. As a person who experiences in one's own being sinfulness, selfishness, anger, frustration, fear and oppression of others, the baptized person can come before God as Jesus did on the cross, in behalf of the sinfulness of the world and cry out for mercy and forgiveness of sin for all people. As a person who experiences, even in times of prayer itself, emptiness, a search for meaning, boredom, ignorance, a feeling of rejection, a lack of faith and trust, the Christian can unite his/her own emptiness and need with the sufferings, the hunger and search for love and meaning, which exist among all people and, with them, accept his/her human condition and beg for salvation from God as Jesus did on 3Jen"nings. Theodore W., Jr., "Prayer, The Call for God." The Christian CentuG'. April 15, 1981, pp. 410-414. Prayer as an Act of Justice / 355 the cross. A baptized person can pray in this way, for in Jesus' Spirit we are all one before God. A call to pray in this posture is a call to be truly present in solidarity with all of humanity and all of creation which "still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God" (Rm 8:21). It is a call to become one with the joys, sorrows, struggles and sufferings of all people and to accept in faith the saving love of God, "our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins" (Ep 1:7), so as to constantly offer to God the thanksgiv-ing and praise due him in justice. A call to stand before God in this manner of prayer in the authenticity of one's being is then, in a very real sense, an act of justice on behalf of the whole world, for it is a sharing in the surrendering love of Jesus. who throughout his life and especially in his death accepted his justification and that of all people from God who alone can save us from death and bring us into the kingdom of truth and justice. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plu~ postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 St. Ambrose's Theology of the Consecrated Virgin George E. Saint-Laurent Doctor Saint-Laurent, of the Department ~f Religious Studies at California State University (Fuller-ton). presented the content of this article as a paper to the American Academy of Religion. He may be addressed at the university. Fullerton. CA 92634. Occasionally we may observe that an individual was ahead of his or her time. More often we are scandalized that an earlier generation could have been so deaf to its prophets and so blind to its evils. The history of Christian thought discloses at least two persistent phenomena which have accompanied its dialectical development. First, when we human beings confront a dipolar aspect of the Christian mys-tery, we are almost irresistibly tempted to assume an either/or stance and opt for one extreme to the neglect of the other. We find it difficult to bear a truth which cannot be pressed into our neat categories but finds itself in a creative tension between two poles. And yet it is invariably in that delicate both/and position that Christian "catholicism" or "orthodoxy" has discovered its authentic home: both the divine and the human in both Christ and the Church, with full attention both to grace and to nature, both to faith and to reason, both to spirit and to matter. Second, since our very existence is historical, contextual, and societal, we human beings are predictably limited and conditioned by the foreshortened hori-zons of our own cultural world. As we attempt to interpret our experience in terms of Christ and make it intelligible, we find our perceptions to be prejudicial in their foci and linguistically determined in their expression. And yet the Christian believes that Christ, the subject of his or her faith, is uniquely and eternally one. We who come later can only sympathize with the giants of Christian antiquity, who, being human~ were incapable.of seeing every facet of the total Christian commitment in undistorted vision. Every Cho~stian (hinke,r risks the occupational St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 357 hazards of his enterprise: the unconscious bias, the unintentional obscurantism, the unnoticed dislocation of values, the quite innocent use of outrageously sexist, racist, or bigoted language, the accidental imbalance which is far more indebted to his or her concrete situation in this place at this time in the face of this crisis than it is to the actual data of Revelation. The purpose of this essay, is to investigate St. Ambrose's~ theglogy of the consecrated virgin, insofar as it emerges from his liturgical hymns and sermons. It is a view remarkably balanced and far less a victim of negative historical condition-ing than the portraits of his contemporaries 'in the Western Church. His was an era when Platonism, with its flight of the soul from the body, and Manichaeism, with its rejection of the human body and its sexuality as evil, were still significant intellectual currents, predisposing Christians to opt for spirit over (rather than with) matter. No less than a Jerome2 could exceed all bounds of good taste and propriety in his zealous promotion of virginity at the expense of female sexuality, marriage, and motherhood: No less than an Augustine3 could be so haunted by his own sexual confusion that he could grudgingly accept sex within marriage only if procreation were both physically possible and explicitly intended. Yet Ambrose, bishop of Mila'n, was able to nurture the highest esteem for consecrated virginity without denigrating the human body, disparaging females, or detracting from the goodness of Christian marriage.4 Unlike the vitriolic Jerome, torn as he was between a melancholic misogynism and an irrepressible delight in feminine companionship, Ambrose was able to insert into the Christian tradition a more humanistic appreciation of woman and her role. Unlike the self-alienated Augustine, torn as he was between an admira-tion for his mother Monica and a theological pessimism compounded by personal tragedy in his own sexual history, Ambrose was able to pass on a more integral and positive perspective. G. Tavard 'writes: "Ambrose was not only an enthusiastic promoter of the virginal life; he had also put forward what may well constitute the only profound theology of womanhood in the Latin world.~ ~For a life of St. Ambrose, see F. H. Dudden, The Ltfe and Times of St. Ambrose. 2 Vols. (Oxford: 1935): and A. Paredi, St. Ambrose: His L~fe and 7~mes. Tr. M. Costelloe (Notre Dame: 1964). 2On St. Jerome, see F: Murphy, Ed., A Monument to Saint Jerome (New York: 1952); and D. Wiesen, St. Jerome as a Satyrist (Ithaca: 1964). 3The literature on St. Augustine is vast. See, for instance, P. Brown, Augustine of Hippo (Berkeley: 1967); and G. Bonner, St. Augustine of Hippo: L~fe and Controversies (New York: 1963). 4This subject has been much studied in recent years. See, for example, R. Ruether, "Mothers of the Church: Ascetic Women in the Late Patristic Age," Women of Spirit: Female Leadership in the Jewish and Christian Traditions. Ed. R. Ruether and E. McLaughlin (New York: 1979) 72-98: and eadem, "Virginal Feminism in the Fathers of the Church." Religion and Sexism, Ed. R. Ruether (New York: 1974) pp. 150-183: M, Maxey, "Beyond Eve and Mary," Religion for a New Generation. 2d Ed., Ed. J. Needleman, et al. (New York: 1977) 264-277: D. Carmody, Women and Worm Religions (Nashville: 1979) 113-123: E. Clark and H. Richardson, Ed., Women and Religion: A Feminist Sourcebook of Christian Thought (New York: 1977), pp. 53-77. 5Tavard, Women in the Christian Tradition (Notre Dame: 1973), p. I00. 358 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 It is important to realize just how critical the fourth century was in Church history. It was a period of transition from the. status of a despised and proscribed minority to that of a state religion professed and promoted by the Emperor himself and by most of his s.ubjects. During the era of persecution, only persons of heroic courage, high moral aspirations, and deep faith had been willing to embrace Christianity with its concomitant risk to life and property. Now, however, it had become a distinct advantage socially, economically, and politically to convert, and masses of "average" human beings sought admission. The inevitable consequence was a cooling of fervor, with a compromised commitment to the full implications of the Gospel. ~ in order to forestall unworthy "conversions," the Church instituted a lengthy catechumenate for testing and training candidates before their baptism at the Easter Vigil. In order to preserve her credibility as "The Holy Church," the author-ities created an even more exhaustive and lengthy system of "canonical penance" for the rehabilitation of public sinners who repented. But there was also a more private and individual response in the extraordinary development of asceticism. Previously it had been the martyrs who had constituted the ideal of Christian perfection. Because of their bloody sacrifice, they had been idealized as the perfect disciples who had mystically died in the Lord and could therd'ore anticipate a glorious resurrection in the same Lord. Now it had become the ascetics who achieved a "white" or spiritual martyrdom by their lives of seclusion, self-discipline, and consecrated celibacy. Women as well as men pursued the new ideal. One could retreat into the wilderness (either literally or figu.ratively), and, far from the scandalous vanity and corruption of urban life, die to oneself daily through prayer, fasts, vigils, and the consecration of one's personhood in celibacy. There were the eremitical and semi-eremiticai structures of Anthony as well as the fully cenobitical communities of Pachomius, Eustathios, and Basil the Great.6 There was the growing pressure upon priests to live celibately.7 And there were the convents for women associated with the names of Paula, Eustochium, the Melanias, and Macrina.8 On the other hand, some cohsecrated virgins simply lived privately with their parents or in their own homes or even in the homes of clergymen, although the latter practice was continuously deplored and condemned by ecclesiastical authori-ties. 9 The celebrated sister of Ambrose, Marcellina, for instance, lived with her 6See D. Chitty, The Desert a Ot)' (Oxford: 1960): C. Frazee, "Anatolian Asceticism in the Fourth Century: Eustathios of Sebastea and Basil of Caesarea," The Catholic Historical Review66(1980), pp. 16-33; G. Saint-Laurent, "St. Basil of Caesarea and the Rule of St. Benedict," Diakonia 16 (1981), pp. 71-79. 7See C. Frazee, "The Origins of Clerical Celibacy in the Western Church. Church Histor.v 41 (1972). pp. 149-167. 8See, for example, Gregory of Nyssa, Life of St. Macrina, Ed. V. Callahan. Vol, 8 in W. Jaeger (Ed.), Works (Leiden: 1952). 9See D. Bailey, The Man-Woman Relation in Christian Thought (London: 1959), p. 33. St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 359 mother and a companion in Rome. Since no convents appear to have been available at Milan, the virgins in Ambrose's care must have resided with their parents. Ambrose himself implies that the native Milanese virgins were relatively few in number, whereas young women came to Milan from Piacenza, Bologna, i~nd Mauritania to celebrate the-rite of consecration. A maiden would solemnly vow her chastity as a bride of Christ in the church before a bishop, with a ritual closely paralleling that of earthly marriage. Accord-ing to Roman custom, a bride was to wear the stola (a long outer garment), receive a fiery-coloredflammeum (her bridal veil) from the priest, and vow her fidelity to h~r bridegroom in the presence of witnesses. A virgin enteri.ng into mystical espousal with Christ also wore a stola and received the flammeum Christi to betoken her new state of life, but both were of somber color. She also pronounced her vow before witnesses, who in her case were the whole community publicly assembled to voice their approving "Amen." We do not know the actual formula of consecration invoked within the Mila-nese liturgy, but we may suppose that it would closely resemble the long preface of consecration to be found in the Gelasian Sacramentary, whose provenance is from Rome about a century later.~° Drawing upon several incidental references in the writings of Ambrose and others, F. H. Dudden reconstructs the general shape of the ceremony thus:' The congregation, at which the bishop himself was the officiating minister, was solemnized with much pomp on one of the great festivals--in the case of Marcellina on the Feast of Epiphany: more usually, however, at Easter, when it was attended by the newly baptized wearing their white robes and carrying lighted tapers. The bishop delivered an address to the' virgin, and offered a solemn prayer. The girl then publicly pledged herself to a life of chastity. Next the bishop took the veil, which had been lying on the altar, and placed it over her head, with the words, q wish to present you as a chastg virgin to Christ.' A benediction was then recited, to which the congregation responded 'Amen." At some point in the service Psalm xlv was chan!ed, and possibly some hymns in praise of virginity were sung." By virtue of her consecration, the "bride of Christ" became a special responsi-bility of her bishop, who was required to visit her regularly, open the Scriptures to her, and impart instructions to her about her duties of state. Although she was separated from the other women in the asseinbly by a screen, she was still believed to,possess a place of honor. Women would sometimes draw near to the enclosure in order to request the kiss of peace from consecrated virgins. As bishop of Milan, Ambrose fulfilled many roles which proved decisive for the later history of the Western Church. Defender of Nicene orthodoxy, champion of the Church's freedom from imperial control, channel of eastern theology to the ~0See I. Mohlberg. Ed. Liber Sacramentorum Romanae Aeclesiae Ordinis Anni Circufi (Sacramenta-rium Gelasianum). Rerum Ecclesiasticarum Documenta Series Major. Fontes IV (Rome: 1960). pp. 124-128. On the consecration of virgins, see P. Camelot. "Virginity." New Catholic Encyclopedia 14 (1967). pp. 702-703. ~tDudden. op. cir. p. 151. ~0 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 Latin world,!2 creator and reformer of public worship,Is spiritual father of the great Augustine: Ambrose was all of these and much more as one of the Four Great Latin Fathers.14 But the special object of Ambrose's pastoral concern throughout his years of episcopal service was the consecrated life. Ambrose has been called "The Father of Latin Hymnody.''1S Of the nineteen liturgical hymns which may be ascribed to him with greater or less certitude, five are directly pertinent to our subject, while a sixth holds.indirect interest. Since it is primarily through the sacred liturgy that Catholic and Orthodox Christians have always appropriated their beliefs and values, we may very well be confronting here effectual channels of Ambrosian thought far more significant on the popular level than any discourse could ever have been. Our first three hymns extol Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as the perpetually virginal woman who was nonetheless made marvelously fruitful by the interven-tion of God. A fourth hymn glorifies a popular virgin martyr. A fifth hymn praises Christ, the Spouse of virgins. Finally, our sixth hymn expresses the fundamental spirituality of the consecrated women. Ambrose is remembered as an enthusiastic admirer of the Blessed' Virgin, and he holds a preeminent place in the development of Mariolggy. In lain surgit hora tertia,16 a hymn composed for the liturgical hour of Terce, our poet recalls how Christ entrusted his mother to the Apostle John. The strophes pertinent to our investigation, together with this writer's English translation, are as follows: celso triumphi uertice matri Ioquebatur suae: en f!lius, mater, tuus, apostole, en mater tua. praetenta nuptae foedera alto docens mysterio, ne uirginis partus sacer matris pudorem laederet. From lofty pillar of triumph ¯ He was speaking to his mother: Mother, behold thy son, Apostle. behold thy. mother. Covenants of marriage pretended Taught he with deep mystery, Lest the sacred bearing of a virgin Cast hurt upon a mother's honor. The hymn Intende, qui regis Israel17 was intended "for the Christmas liturgy, and it was an ideal opportunity for Ambrose to blend two of his favorite themes: the glories of the Word Incarnate and the wonders of Christ's virginal conception and birth through Mary. Jesus and Mary are praised together from the second stanza through the fifth. The text, together with this writer's translation, follows: ~2See Saint-Laurent, "St. Ambrose and the Eastern Fathers," Diakonia 15 (1980), pp. 23-31. t3See idem. "St. Ambrose as Channel of Eastern Liturgical Customs to the West," Diakonia 13 (1978), pp. 101-110. t4Together with Jerome, Augustine, and Gregory the Great. tSFor example, see M. McGuire, "Ambrose. St.," New Catholic Encyclopedia I (1967). p. 375; R. Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry (London: 1874), pp. 87-88: F. Raby, A Histoo, of Christian Latin Poetry 2d. Ed. (Oxford: 1953). pp. 32-36. ~rFor a critical text, see W. Bulst, Ed., Hymni latiniantiquissimi." LXXV Psalmi II (Heidelberg: 1956), p. 41. ~TFor a ~ritical text, see ibid., p. 43. St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 361 uenL redemptor gentium. ostende partum uirginis, miretur omne saeculum, tails decet partus deo. non ex uirili semine, sed mystico spiramine uerbum dei faetum est earo fructusque uentris floruit. aluus tumescit uirginis, claustrum pudoris permanet, uexilla uirtutum micam, uersatur in templo deus, proeedat e thalamo suoo pudoris aula regia, geminae gigans substantiae, ¯ alacris oecurrat uiam. Come, redeemer of the nations, Demonstrate a virgin's bearing, Let all the world be moved with wonder, So great a bearing befits our God. Not from human instigation, But from mystic inspiration Word of God did flesh become And fruit of womb did flower. Swollen grows a virgin's womb, Door of chastity remains, Virtues' beacons glitter forth, Engaged is God within his temple. ¯ Springs forth he from nuptial chamber, Royal palace of chaste modesty Giant of twofold nature he, Speedily runs he his course. The claustrum pudoris permanet of the fourth strophe is strikingly similar to phrases in Ambrose's De institutione virginis,~8 and expresses a doctrinal concern important to him: the virginity of Mary before, during, and after the birth of Jesus. Ambrose refers to the womb of Mary as aula regali uteri virginalis in that same work,!9 and g~es on to state: "Aula regialis is the virgin, who is subject not to man but to God alone." The hymn Inluminans altissimus2° is a hymn written for the observance of Epiphany, with its threefold orientation towards Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, his manifestation to the Magi, and his first miracle at Cana. Our immediate interest is focused upon the third stanza, the text of which follows, together with the present writer's translation: seu stella partum uirginis caelo micans signauerit et hoc adoratum die praesepe magos duxerit, A star shining from heaven Will have shown a virgin's giving birth And on this day will have led The Magi to adore the crib. Christ, "the most high Enlightener," has beenborn of a virgin, and so a radiant star in turn becomes a sign, bathing the crib in its light for the Magi to see. From the preceding three passages it is evident that Ambrose d~lights in dwelling upon Mary's perpetual, yet fruitful, virginity. Mary is the womanly model of the consecrated virgin par excellence, and her miraculous conception of Jesus by the power of. the Holy Spirit constitutes a quasi-paradigmatic event. The consecrated virgin, may approach the regal dignity of Mary through her own state of life, and so become spiritually in her own body a royal palace for God. The divine maternity is a privilege unique to Mary, of course, yet her self-donation to ~Ambrose. De institutione virginis 8.52 (PL 16.320). ~91bid. 12.79 (PL 16.324). 20For a critical text. see Bulst. op. cit. p. 45. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1982 God is imitable. Ambrose suggests that the Word can mystically enter into union with the consecrated Virgin for spiritual fruitfulness in the service of others. Our fourth hymn, Agnes beatae uirginis,2t was composed especially for a litur-gical celebration of the Feast of St. Agnes (January 21). It is effectively a poetic paraphrase of a sermon of Ambrose wherein he recounts the martyrdom, of this famous young maiden, a homily which he actually preached for that feast and which is found in his De virginibus.2~ The bishop's basic theme is praise for the valor of a maiden who willingly died as a witness to her faith in Christ. In the first stanza, Ambrose announces that it is the feastday of Agnes, who consecrated her virginity through martyrdom. In the second stanza, our author marvels'that such a child, too young for marriage, should nonetheless be suffi-ciently mature to give her life in testimony--and that at a time when even adults were wavering in the" face of persecution. In succeeding stanzas, Ambrose narrates the story which his audience knew so well. Agnes deliberately sought out martyr-dom, and presented herself as a bride about to meet her Heavenly Bridegroom, her mystic dowry being her very blood. When commanded to offer idolatrous wor-ship, she condemned the altar-fire and promise, d to exiinguish it with her blood. In concluding stanzas, our poet dwells upon Agnes' dignity upon the deathblow, as she drew her garments about herself in chaste modesty. The entire hymn is significant for our purpose, and so all eight'strophes, together with this writer's translation, are here reproduced: Agnes beatae uirginis natalis est, quo spiritum caelo refudit deb#um pio sacrata sanguine. matura maro,rio fuit matura nondum nuptiis, nutabat in uiris fides, cedebat e.ffessus senes. metu parentes territi claustrum pudoris auxeram soluit fores custodiae .tides teneri nescia. prodire quis nuptum putet, sic laeta uultu ducitur, nouas uiro.ferens opes dotata censu sanguinis. aras ~fandi numinis adolere taedis cogitur, respond#: baud tales faces sumpsere Christi uirgines. hic ignis extinguit fidem, Of the blessed virgin Agnes It is the bi~'thday, on which she Poured back her spirit owed to heaven ' Consecrated b~ her faithful blood. Mature was she for martyrdom ' Though for marriage not yet mature, Faith was faltering among men, Conceding old men to be weak. Terrified by fear her parents Had provided a prison of shame Faith dissolved the gates of custody Not knowing how to be,restrained. One might think her advancing to wed So~,joyful in countenance is she led Bringing new wealth to her bridegroom With dowry of her blood endowed. Altars of a devilish god by Tortures she is pressed to worship, Answers she: Not such fires Have Christ's virgins chosen. This flame blots out the faith, For a critical text, see ibid., p. 46. -'~Ambrose, De virginibus 1.25-29 (PI. 16.-189-190). ~ St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 363 haec flamma lumen eripit. hic hic ferite, ut profluo eruore restinguam focos. percussa quam pompam tulit ham ueste se Iolam lege?ls curare pudoris praestitit, ne quis retectam cerneret. in morte uiuebat pudor uultumque texerat manu, terram genu flexo petit lapsu uerecundo cadens. This fire extinguishes the light. Here destroy me, here, that with Spilt blood I may quench the flames. Struck down what splendor she showed For covering her total person She displayed her care for modesty Lest anyone should see her unclothed. In her death, chastity was living As with hand she veiled her face, With bent knee she besought the earth Falling forward with modest movement. Ambrose was resolutely incarnational, not only in his doctrinal convictions, but also in his pastoral instincts. For him, the cult of the martyrs--like the cult of the virgin--was but an obvious implicate of any sound and balanced Christology. Grace could transfigure the material, the earthy, and the human into a sacramental epiphany of the spiritual, the. heavenly, and the divine. It was inevitable that Ambrose shot~ld exploit the

Issue 38.3 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bl-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St Louis Umverslty The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070~ Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1979 Volume 38 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOtZ REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Principles of Prayer Robert F. Morneau On February 22, 1979, Bishop Morneau was consecrated to serve as auxiliary bishop of the Green Bay Diocese, His latest article for our pages, "Spiritual Staying Power," appeared beginning p. 664 of the September, 1979 issue. He wrote: "'As of December 19th my writing career has been threatened." On that date he was appointed bishop-designate. Growth in all forms of relationships, be they with God or with one another, calls for an ongoing communication process. Prayer is one such process involving dialogue between God and the human person. In order to be meaningful that process must be grounded on certain principles de-scriptive of universal conditions, consequences and causes of meaningful prayer. This paper culls out several principles of prayer as articulated by various spiritual authors. These authors, experiencing prayer at different levels according to the uniqueness of their personality structures, share in written form some truths that provide an explication of prayer experiences in general. These truths when understood in context may well enlighten our own experiences or at least cause us to desire them as we journey to the Father. In so doing we can grow in our dialogical relationship with God. A three-step method will be used: 1) a statement of a principle of prayer; 2) a series of quotations from which the principle was drawn, or of quo-tations used to demonstrate the validity of the principle; and 3) a com-mentary developing some implications buried within the principle and/or quotations. Though principles are significant and advantageous in providing a perspective and pointing out a direction, experience itself is the central concern. Hopefully, as the reader journeys beyond the principle into the 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 experience which it ~luciidates, he will find deeper meaning in it and be able to come into contact with the principal Reality underlying all real princi-ples. Ten Principles of Prayer 1. Prayer is Essentially Loving Attention1 Thus the individual also should proceed only with a loving attention to God, without making specific acts. He should conduct himself passively, as we have said, without efforts of his own, but with the simple, loving awareness, as a person who opens his eyes with loving attention,z Attention animated by desire is the whole foundation of religious practices? shall not dwell upon this because I want to say something about the way in which think those of us who practice prayer may profit, though everything is profitable to soul that loves the Lord with fervent desire, since it instills into it courage and wonder.4 Two essential elements of authentic prayer are contained in the defini-tion of prayer as loving attention: awareness of the presence of the Other and a h.eartfelt, concerned response. Distraction within consciousness and indifference of the heart are obstacles to meaningful communication with God. If, on our part, we are called to love with attention, this is consequent upon God's loving attention toward us. God made us; he is attentive to the smallest detail of our lives; he loves us completely. An affirmative answer must be given to Blake's deeply religious question: ~'Did he smile his work to see?" The Father's loving attention has been revealed in Jesus, the Word incarnate. A coming-to-visit verifies God's love and awareness. Further verification is found in the sending of the Spirit into our lives, the Spirit of love and knowledge. Because of this personal Grace we are enabled to truly pray. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows per-fectly well what he means, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God.? Defining prayer in terms of loving attention is simple but not simplistic. Its simplicity lies in its directness and succinctness; it is not reductionistic ~SeeJo 17;Ro 11:33-36. ~The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, (Tr., Kavanaugh, and Rodriguez, Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1973), p. 622. 3Simone Weil, Waiting for God, introduction by Leslie Fiedler (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1951), p. 197. 4The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers (London: Sheed and Ward, 1944), Vol. I!, p. 363. ~Ro 8:26-27. Principles of Prayer / 323 because neither love nor attentiveness is easily attained. Prayer, like all great acts, defies full analysis because it contains too much mystery. Only knowledge of prayer from the inside, i.e., through experience, allows for even surface knowledge of such a powerful event. 2. Prayer is Proportionate to the Qualit~ of One's Love6 Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who Ioveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who Ioveth us, He made and Ioveth all.7 He knew that without prayer true love was impossible, and he learned from living that without love prayer became self-centered and barren.8 I repeat that if you have this in view you must not build upon foundations of prayer and contemplation alone, for, unless you strive after the virtures and practice them, you will never grow to be more than dwarfs. God grant that nothing worse than this may happer~for, as you know, anyone who fails to go forward begins to go back, and love, I believe, can never be content to stay for long where it is.8 The spiritual life demands balance. How one relates to God in prayer is intimately related to how one encounters his neighl~or. Scripture is trans-parent on this point: he who says that he loves God and at the same time shows hatred to his neighboris a liar:1° The person who spends an hour in prayer while fi~glecting the obvious needs of people close at hand must seriously examine the authenticity of such prayer. Indeed, the reality check for one's prayer life is fraternal charity.~1 Prayer and love are ~ymbiotic. Since our God is Love, we must be in close contact with him if we are to share that gift with others to its fullest. The reverse is also true: unless we share the love given in prayer, the gift dries up or simply engenders pride. As in all provinces of life, the principle of interdependence applies directly to the spiritual life, too. Integration of prayer and' love, contemplation and virture, liturgy and the apostolate are called for. Isolation and fragmentation here create a false spirituality visible to everyone except their possessor. A vision of integrated spirituality and a discipline of courageous action is true imitation of Christ. 81Jo 2:9-11; Lk 4:42-44. 7Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'" SMurray Bodo, Francis: The Journe~ and the Dream (Cincinnati: St, Anthony Messenger Press, 1972), p. 64. 8St. Teresa, II, p. 347. ~°1 Jo 2. ~Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood (Washington, D.C.: Publication Office United States Catholic Conference, 1973), p. 48. 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 3. Genuine Prayer Demands Some Self-Control of Body and Spiritt2 ¯. we shall not fail to observe the fasts, disciplines and periods of silence which the order commands: for, as you know, if prayer is to be genuine it must be reinforced with these things--prayer cannot be accompanied by self-indulgence?'~ Oh, who can tell how impossible it is for a man with appetites to judge the things of God as they are.j4 We shall have overcome a considerable obstacle when prayer and penance condition each other, for their unity will be able to become the guarantee of their orientation. If it is necessary to deprive oneself of food and sleep, it is not to establish a perform-ance or glorify oneself over an exploit, but to allow the spirit to give itself freely to prayer, since, if it is less strongly captivated by the things of earth, it will be able to give attention to what is above it.15 When the body or the spirit is not free but addicted to various sub-stances or objects, the process of prayer is threatened. A body satiated with food and drink becomes listless and weary; a mind constantly filled with the flood of stimuli is so preoccupied as not to be receptive to other realities. Prayer is premised upon the ability to say '~no" to one level of reality so as to be able to say "yes" to the workings of the Spirit. Asceticism is a condition which creates space and time for dialogue with God. Certain exercises, such as fasting, periods of extended silence, volun-tary mortification, are means by which that space and time become real. The "if-then" principle applies to spirituality as it does to all of life: if the farmer wants the fall harvest, then he must willingly do the spring plowing and planting; ira person wants to listen and respond to the Lord, then time and space must be created for the encounter to happen. Strong and deter-min~: d desire lies at the root of such discipline. Self-control extends one step beyond asceticism. Once the emptiness has been created through exercises done out of love, then the soul must wait on the Lord who will come in his time and in his manner. Waiting for God is at the heart of prayer and is already a deep form of prayer; self-control makes that waiting possible and grace makes it sacred. Although not speaking of prayer, C. S. Lewis describes well this aspect of what is, after all, part of the human condition: "Then came the worst part, the waiting." ~ 4. In Prayer, 1 Must Bring This Me to the Living and True God~7 I enter into the presence of God with all my load of misery and troubles. And he takes me just as I am and makes me to be alone with him?~ ~ZGa 5:16-26: Mt 4:1-17. ~3St. Teresa, I1, p. 16. ~4St. John of the Cross, p. 364. ~Fran~ois Roustang, S.J., Growth in the Spirit, (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p¯ 232. ~nC. S. Lewis, The Last Battle (New York: Collier Books, 1956). p. 13. ~rjg 6:13: Ro 7:14-25. This principle of prayer was presented in a gu.ided retreat by Fr. William A. M. Peters, S.J. ~SRaissa's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, N.Y.: Magi Books, 1974), p. 225. Principles of Prayer / 325 If you're approaching him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as a means, you're not really approaching him at all?9 I can testify that this is one of the most grievous kinds of life which I think can be imagined, for I had neither any joy in God nor any pleasure in the world. When i was in the midst of worldly pleasures, I was distressed by the remembrance of what I owed to God; when I was with God, I grew restless because of worldly ~iffections.z° Any genuine conversation requires that each participant have an ade-quate level of self-knowledge and is familiar with the content under discus-sion. Where either is wanting, communication breaks down. Prayer, which is essentially a form of communication, contains the same requirements: we must know our real self and have some notion of who God is as well as understand the experience that is being ~;hared. Because of a drive to come off 'qooking well," it is difficult to bring the true, real self to God without a kind of editing. Because God can be conceived in ways that are distor-tions of his true nature, it can easily happen that we attempt to pray to gods that do not exist. One of the greatest causes for sterility in prayer stems precisely from a misconception of God and a failure to be in touch with our true identity. Psychologists are helpful in depicting for us a variety of selves with which we must deal: Each of us seems to have three self-concepts. The personal self-image is how the individual pictures his most inner self ("how 1 really am"). The social self is how he thinks others see him, and the pattern of responses he learns in order to be a social being. The Meal self is made up of the goals set by parents, the culture, and other sources ("how I should be"). Often, these three conflict, creating problems for the individual trying to satisfy them all.z~ Each person must examine which of these selves is operative not only in the interactions of one's daily life but also as one comes before God. To play a role or function in the presence of the Lord prohibits encounter with our deepest self. To demand that the ideal self be actualized before its due season (perfectionism) leads only to a guilt trip every time we must turn to prayer. God says to us, "Come as you are"--no need for formal dress here. C. S. Lewis knew that God cannot be captured by our finite reason: "My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has .to be shattered time after time.''z2 Yet we can come to some knowledge of the living and true God. As Christians we attain to this through faith and the knowledge of Jesus Christ. In Jesus our God is made visible. Gifted with the Spirit, we make our journey to the Father in and through Jesus. His life, death and resurrec-tion is a summary statement of the Father's love and forgiveness. Thus all ~9C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World. 1955), p. 21. 2°St. Teresa, I, p. 48. 2~John H. Brennecke and Robert G. Amick; Psychology: Understanding Yourself(California: Benziger Bruce & Glencoe, 1975), p. 43. "~C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 52. 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 of our prayer passes through and is enriched by the Lord as we speak to and listen to the Father. .Authentic prayer demands authentic, real persons. Our real self must be continually ferreted out; our real God must be longed for and awaited in silence and solitude. Only when real people meet can dialogue take place; the dialogue of prayer is no exception. 5. Prayer's Primary Focus Is on God, Not Self or Events2:~ I get nowhere by looking at myself; I merely get discouraged. So I am making the resolution to abandon myself entirely to God, to look only at him, to leave all the care of myself to him, to practice only one thing, confidence; my extreme wretchedness, my natural cowardice leaving me no other way to go to God and to advance in good .24 it is not my business to think about myself. My business is to think about God. It is for God to think about me.z~ You could, if you wished, deny that Mister God existed, but'then any denial didn't alter the fact that Mister God was. No, Mister God was; he was the kingpin, the center, the very heart of things; and this is where it got funny, You see, we had to recognize that he was all these things, and that meant that we were at our qenter, not God. God is our center, and yet it is we who acknowledge that he is the center. That makes us somehow internal to Mister God. This is the curious nature of Mister God: that even while he is at the center of all things, he waits outside us and knocks to come in. It is we who open the door. Mister God doesn't break it down and come in; no, he knocks and waits.2n Focusing and centering are concepts and experiences that are empha-sized in spirituality and psychology. Through this activity we realize that what is at the core of our consciousness radically affects our thoughts, feelings and actions. Often, a violent struggle takes place deep within our interior as various persons, forces, and things vie for centrality. Prayer deals directly with centering. Oi)r experience indicates how easily self-centeredness moves in or how daily anxieties and worries can become so strong as to exclude any awareness of a loving, caring God. Self-transcendence is no easy task; trust that the Lord will provide is more easily thought than experienced. Only in grace can the obstacles blocking encounter with God be removed. Jesus' prayer and life were centered on the Father and the doing of his will. Often in the early hours and before major events we see Jesus explicitly turning to the Father in deep, familiar communication. These explicit moments were indications of an implicit, hidden life of union. How else explain the intimacy of the last supper discourse? Yet Jesus, in his humanness, must have struggled at times to keep proper focus. We need but ponder the agony in the garden to realize that the struggle we have with ourselves and our fear of suffering were part ~aPs 23: Ga 2:17-21. Z4Raissa's Journal, p. 83. Z~Waiting for God, pp. 50-51. ~nFynn, Mister God, This is Anna (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1974), p. 174. Principles of Prayer / 327 of our Lord's experience as well. The lives of the saints are the records of people who struggled to center on God in spite of their own selfishness. Augustine's ongoing conversion, Teresa of Avila's admission that for years her prayer was superficial, John of the Cross' constant challenge to mortification lest the self dominate--all manifest the eternal conflict between the ego and divine love. Marvelously God has withheld rest so that we can never be at full peace unless we center on him. George Herbert saw this and recorded it magnificantly: When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, Let us (said he) pour on him all we can; Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way; Then beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honor, pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that, alone of all his treasure, Rest in the bottom lay. For if I should (said he) Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness; Let him be rich and weary, that at least, if goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast.~7 6. Silence, Solitude and Surrender are Conditions for Pra~er2s When it happens, therefore, that a person is conscious in this manner of being placed in solitude and in the state of listening, he should even forget the practice of loving attentiveness I mentioned so as to remain free for what the Lord then desires of him The beginning of integrity is not effort but surrender; it is simply the opening of the heart to receive that for which the heart is longing. The healing of mankind begins whenever any man ceases to resist the love of God.n° Good as is discourse, silence is better, and shames it. The length of the discourse indicates the distance of thought betwixt the speaker and the hearer, if they were at a perfect understanding in any part, no words would be necessary thereon. If at one in all parts, no words would be suffered,n~ ZrGeorge Herbert, "'The Pulley." 28Lk 22:39-46; Mt 6:5-6. ~°St. John of the Cross, p. 623. n°Caryll Houselander, quoted in Maisie Ward, Caryll Houselander: That Divine Eccentric (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), p. 279. n~"Circles," Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson (New York: The Book League of America, 1941), p. 106. 32~i / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 This SSS Principle (Silence, Solitude, Surrender) establishes the dis-positions allowing for union with God. Simply by looking at their opposites we realize how important they are. Constant chatter impedes prayer ("In your prayers do not babble as the pagans do." Mt. 6:5); crowding our lives with activities and people stifles the inner agenda; clutching desperately to our own wills thwarts the realization of the Father's will. In a culture that is activistic and grasping, the qualities of silence, solitude and surrender are not easy to come by. We must recognize the influence of the external environment on the internal milieu. Diligence and discipline are required if we are to grow in a rich, interior silence; courage and trust, if we are to dwell alone with the Other; love and generosity, if we are to accomplish the Lord's will freely. The attainment of a given end necessitates using an appropriate means. The house of the Lord is attained by traveling the path of silence, solitude and surrender. The path is narrow, perhaps peopled by few. Desire for union with God provides the enthusiasm to set out and continue on the journey. The greatest tragedy is to ignore the voices that call us to love, to dwell with many and not to have the One, to retain a false freedom at the cost of life. 7. The Tone of Prayer is One of Reverence and Awe:~" Then prayer is a witness that the soul wills as God wills, and it eases the conscience and fits man for grace. And so he teaches us to pray and to have firm trust that kve shall have it; for he beholds us in love, and wants to make us partners in his good will and work.3'~ Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit round and pluck blackberries?4 First, therefore, I invite the reader to the groans of prayer through Christ crucified. through whose blood we are cleansed from the filth of vice-- so that he not believe that reading is sufficient without unction. speculation without devotion, investigation without wonder, observation without joy. work without piety, knowledge without love, understanding without humility '~21s6:1-9: Ps 118:5-7. :~Julian of Norwich: Showings. translated from the critical text with an introduction by Edmund Colledge. O.S.A. and James Walsh. S.J. (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 253. '~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh.'" Principles of Prayer / 399 endeavor without divine grace, ¯ reflection as a mirror without divinely inspired wisdom?5 A personal attitude toward a particular person or object is known as tone. Hostility, lack of openness and prejudices are negative attitudes creating an atmosphere (tone) of fear and discomfort; gentleness, respect and affability are positive attitudes promoting a climate (tone) of warmth and joy. The interior manner by which we approach God is of great impor-tance in prayer. Julian of Norwich writes that, when one is comfortable in coming to the Lord, deeper experiences of prayer are possible: And so'prayer makes harmony between God and man's soul, because when man is at ease with God he does not need to pray, but to contemplate reverently what God says.3s Though our tone is important, of greater significance is the manner in which God comes to us in prayer. God's attitude flows from his nature, a nature which is summarized in the word love. And love's cousins are reverence and awe. What mystery here !--that our God is so gracious and courteous in his visitations to us. Julian of Norwich shares her experience of God's tonality: Of everything which I saw, this was the greatest comfort to me, that our Lord is so familiar and so courteous, and this most filled my soul with delight and surety?7 When entering into prayer it is of great profit to ask for the Spirit of reverence and awe, that same Spirit which empowered Jesus as he ad-dressed the Father in silence and solitude. Reverence and awe are essen-tially gifts and are to be asked for. When gifted with these gentle attitudes our prayer takes on an entirely different quality. Without these gifts our hearts are stifled and our service cool. The reverent feel deeply and serve generously; the awe-filled see with wonder and hear with trembling. 8. God's Activity in Prayor is Fat" More Important Than Out" Activity:~s ,, Prayer is a personal response to God's presence. It is more something that God does to us, rather than anything we do. This means that God first makes himself present to us. Prayer is our awareness of and then response to God?~ In this interior union God communicates himself to the soul with such genuine love that no mother's affection, in which she tenderly caresses her child, nor brother's love, nor friendship is comparable to it. The tenderness and truth of love by which the immense Father favors and exalts this humble and loving soul reaches such a de-gree-- O wonderful thing] worthy of all our awe and admiration--that the Father himself becomes subject to her for her exaltation, as though he were her servant and :~SBonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, translation and introduction by Ewert Cousins (New York: Paulist Press. 1978), pp. 55-56. a~Showings, p. 159. arll?id., p. 136. asPs 138; Jo 6:44. a~Fr. Armand Nigro,-Prayer" (source unknown). 330 I Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 she his lord. And he is as solicitous in favoring her as he would be if he were her slave and she his god. So profound is the humility and sweetness of God!4° In the first place it should be known that if a person is seeking God, his Beloved is seeking him much more.4~ Self-sufficiency is a trait much admired by our culture. Nothing happens unless we make it happen; being responsible implies the to~al management of our lives, including the spiritual domain. Control is the goal. With such a mentality it is not surprising that God's invitations and graces fall on deaf ears and are unseen because of our blindness. We simply are not open to outside motivation; we are dancers who must always lead. The conse-quence of such a disposition is tragic: "A person extinguishes the spirit by wanting to conduct himself in a way different from that in which God is leading him.''42 While acknowledging both the necessity and health of self-reliance in its deepest meaning, complete self-motivation leads to stagnation and death~ Faith tells us that God always takes the initiative, that Christian life is a radical response to what God speaks and calls us to do. In no way does this deny the principle that we are challenged to make things happen, not just let them happen. But it affirms that our "making" is consequent upon the word of our Father. The Christian heart, in wisdom, seeks simply to please the Father, whatever is asked. Though the request may be sur-rounded by darkness, though his thoughts and ways differ from our own, the challenge will remain the same: "Our task is always the humble and courageous one of listening obediently and acting boldly.''4:~ Hopefully our activity flows from that deep listening to the word of God. The day begins with a listening disposition; it ends with a review of our response to the Father's word. Thus, prayer is dialogic. Aword is spoken in love and answered out of love; the answer itself becomes the substance for the next movement in the warm, mutual relationship between God and his creature. The familiarity here is profound; its absence creates an incredible loneliness and a haunting restlessness. o There is no One Way of Praying: Pluralism in Prayer Must Be Carefully Safeguarded44 If while the soul is meditating the Lord should suspend it, well and good; for in that case he will make it cease meditation even against its own will. I consider it quite certain that this method of procedure is no hindrance to the soul but a great help to it in everything that is good; whereas, if it labored hard at meditation in the way 4°Sl. John of the Cross, p. 517. 4tlbid., p. 620. 4Zlbid., p. 232. 4aRomano Guardini, The Life of Faith, translated by John Chapin (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1961), p. 106. 44Col 3:12-17; Lk 4:42-44. Principles of Prayer / 33"1 I have already described, this would indeed be a hindrance--in fact, I believe such labor is impossible for a'person who has attained greater heights. This may not be so with everyone, since God leads souls by many ways, but those who are unable to take this road should not be condemned or judged incapable of enjoying the great bless-ings contained in the mysteries of Jesus Christ our God.45 I do not say this without reason, for, as I have said, it is very important for us to realize that God does not lead us all by same road, and perhaps she who believes herself to be going along the lowest road is the highest in the Lord's eyes. So it does not follow that, because all of us in this house practice prayer, we are all perforce to be contem-platives. 46 God leads each one along different paths so that hardly one spirit will be found like another in even half its method of procedure.4~ Uniqueness of personality structure helps to specify what form and style of prayer is most appropriate for the individual. God works with and through our individuality. How dangerous, therefore, to simply adopt someone eise's manner of praying. Sheer imitation is not only foolish but can be injurious to one's spiritual life, leading to frustration and discourage-ment. A popul~tr expression states: "Different strokes for different folks!" So in the spiritual life: different prayers for different cares. Prayer is as varied as people with the commonality coming in the wor~d-.responsp pat-tern underl~,ing all communication between God and his pe6ple. Just as p.rayer varies from person to perso~n, prayer also varies within each person's life. During certain periods of faith developme'.~t'~, Vocal and formal pray.er may well be the best form of prayer for that time; at other stages, meditative or contemplative prayer may be in orde~r. Further, prayer styles may change within the course of a single week, even in the course of a single hour of prayer. Form and style is not the heart of the fiaatter; what is of essence is personal encounter with God. Once that experience hap-pens, we simply rest in his presence. "As soon as God's word makes its impact, we must leave all the rest and follow it."48 Prayer is a means to an end; the end is union with God. The paths to union are multiple. The necessary pluralism is threatened by stereotyping and rigid con-formity. Granting the validity, indeed the necessity, of a certain measure of uniformity in public prayer, the principle to be followed in personal, private prayer is that of freedom. Only the individual knows the context of his/her own life; it is the context that sets {he parameters for the form and style of prayer. Because our context is cbntinually changing, prayer forms must adapt themselves accordingly. Thus pluralism becomes a principle neces-sary for spiritual health and growth. ~sSt. Teresa, II, pp. 307-308. 46lbid., p. 69. 4TSt. John of the Cross, p. 633. 4~Hans Urs von Balthasar, Prayer, tr., A. V. Littledale (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961), p. 108. ~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 10. Prayer Leads to Intimacy With God and to Solidarity With All Creation4~ It should be noted that until the soul reaches this state of union of love, she should practice love in both the active and contemplative life. Yet once she arrives, she should not become involved in other works and exterior exercises that might be of the slightest hindrance to the attentiveness of love toward God, even though the work be of great service to God. For a little of this pure love is more precious to God and the soul and more beneficial to the Church, even though it seems one is doing nothing, than all these other works put together.~ In prayer ! can enter into contact with the God who created me and all things out of love. In prayer I can find a new sense of belonging since it is there that I am most related We are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love:52 Activities find their meaning in terms of their goal. The end of the spiritual life is union with God and by means of this unity we are myste-riously united to all of creation. Oneness is attained by love; prayer is a central Iove-act'in our lives. Through the ongoing communication with God, we grow in mutual knowledge and respect until one day we awake to an intimacy incapable of description. The bonding here is subtle and myste-rious, powerfi)l and challenging. The Lord stands at the door knocking and a choice t]as to be made. Following our "Fiat," God comes to dwell with us and our homes are never the same. Prayer's unifying power does not terminate in intimacy with God alone. Authentic prayer necessitates ever deeper union with our brothers and sisters. To be united to the Father means to be united to his children, the entire family of God. The closer we are to the cross of Christ and the power of the Spirit, the closet" we are to all of life. By touching the fountain of life and holiness, we touch all creation. Thus, without prayer a sense of aliena-tion and isolation invades our hearts. Separated from the source we cannot come into vital contact with the created world. Prayer gives us entrance not only into the heart of our triune God but also into the mystery of his loving creation. Because prayer fosters intimacy it is not uncommon for fear to block our communication with God. Intimacy means to know and to be known whole; such radical sharing implies the possibility of radical rejection. Perhaps we are not sure that we are all that lovable. Thus it is in faith and trust that we approach our God, believing that he loves us unconditionally; it is with humility and courage that we approach our brothers and sisters knowing 49Ps 139: Jr 31:31-34. ~°St. John of the Cross, p. 523. ~Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Genesee Diary: Report from a Trappist Monastery (New York: Doubleday & Company. 1976), p. 51. ~2George Herbert, -The Little Black Boy." Principles of Prayer / 333 that through grace we can accept them and that they can accept us. Prayer involves revelation, acceptance and humility; it demands faith, trust and courage. Gifted by the Spirit, we enter the land of prayer and therein find our happiness. The Journey and the Map In discussing any one aspect of the spiritual life we must view it con-textually. This paper points out ten signs on the road to union: prayer as loving attention, prayer's relationship to love, prayer's need for discipline, prayer and proper identity, prayer's focus, the conditions for prayer, prayer's tonality, source of prayer, the principle of pluralism, and prayer's goal. A corresponding set of principles marking out other aspects of the terrain in the spiritual life could easily be worked out and these would provide meaning in such areas as ministry and asceticism. The map is large; we have considered but one aspect. Regardless of the principle and its specification, the destination is always the same: the experience of Love. That experience comes alive when we move from the map to the land it describes. Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called William Meninger, O.C.S.O. Father Meninger is a monk of St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, MA 01562. ~n the foreword to his beautiful treatise on contemplative prayer, the unknown author of the 14th century Cloud of Unknowing describes the kinds of persons who should, and those who should not read his little book. He swiftly eliminates: worldly gossips, flatterers, the scrupulous, busy-bodies, hypocrites, and those who are simply curious--whether they are educated or not. Then he goes on to describe those whom grace has pre-pared to grasp his message. These are people who, every now and then, taste something of contemplative love by way of the action of the Holy Spirit in the very center of their souls, exciting them to love. This ought to include, at some time or other of his or her life, every Christian. That is to say, contemplative prayer, in some form or other, really is for everyone. Instead of speaking of the "extra6rdinary" grace of contemplative prayer (the beginnings of which, at least, we are here equating with Centering Prayer), we should speak of the extraordinary grace of prayer itself. Given the great miracle of prayer itself, contemplative prayer, as well as every other degree or intensity of prayer, ought to follow naturally, as it were. Origen, one of the earliest of the fathers of the Church, in his com-mentary on the Our Father, says that the most marvelous thing about this prayer is not any particular phrase included in it, but the very fact that we can say it at all. The extraordinary grace lies in our God-given ability to bridge the infinite gap between God and man and to converse with him 334 Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 335 face to face, in a word, to pray. Once we understand this, the place con-templative prayer can and should have is no longer a problem. Prayer differs from prayer, not in essence, but merely in its degree of intensity. Basically the simplest recitation of the Our Father in faith, hope and love by .any child is the same as the most profound communion in a silence beyond words of the greatest mystic. The difference can be found in degree or intensity but not in the nature of prayer itself. In any prayer, of whatever type or intensity, the one praying so enters into the triune life of God that he becomes one with the Holy Spirit pre-cisely as the Spirit is the fullest expression of the love of the Father for the Son and of the Son for the Father. The one who prays becomes, as it were, the H01y Spirit, and ,this prayer activity becomes the trinitarian expression of God loving himself. What then is contemplative prayer? How does it differ in intensity from other degrees of prayer? To answer these questions we have to look at prayer as a human relationship. For this, indeed, it truly is: a relationship with God, of course;but because it is the relationship of a human person with God it must, as are ~ali his relationships, be a human relationship. A simple' understanding of this obvious fact will take us a long way in understanding prayer. The man-to-God relationship is human. Obviously it is a graced rela~ tionship, but, nonetheless, it is still human. A man-to-man relationship is also human, and it is by understanding this kind of relationship that we can come to a deeper understanding of the man,to-God, or prayer re]ationship. Let us take a concrete example of a human, man-to-woman relationship and see how it helps us to understand our prayer-,relationship with God, 'At some .social gathering, let us say, a party, John meets Mary. And, of course, Mary meets John. The hostess introduces them in typical fashion: "John, I would like you tomeet my good friend, Mary. Mary, I would like you to meet my cousin, John. John, you will be happy to know that Mary is also a rabid baseball fan!" The hostess then walks away, leaving them together. Now, if John and Mary simply stand there awkwardly staring at nothing and saying nothing, the relationship will end before it really begins. However, this is why the hostess, conscious of her role, has indicated their mutual interest in baseball. It provides them with enough background to pursue their acquaintanceship. And so, with so superficial and external a beginning, John and Mary enter that level of human relationship that we call acquaintance. It is not a deep relationship. Even so, should they find it difficult to continue the conversation, the ensuing silence would be uncomfortable, even embar-rassing. Still, at this level, such personal things as deeper aspirations, peak experiences, intimate feelings, or life goals are not shared. This, then, isa human relationship on the first, most primitive level that. of acquaintance. The couple meet, introduced by a third party who gives 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 them some mutual background, and they pursue the relationship from there--or allow it to die. Understanding that our prayer relationship is simply a human relationship with God,. it, too, must have an acquaintance level. And it does. This began for most of us in early childhood when a third party, perhaps our mother or father, introduced us to God, gave us some background (as the hostess did to John and Mary), and told us that God loved us and would answer prayers. "This is Jesus. He is God. He loves you and will answer your prayers." And so we began our first level of relationship with God, the level of acquaintance. This level expresses itself mostly in the simpler prayers requesting favors or in memorized prayers said without any profound comprehension. We have many relationships on this first level--we have many mere acquaintances. The tCagedy is that for some, the relationship with God never develops beyond this level. Their prayer life is limited to periodic appeals for divine help in times of trouble. But let us return to our example of John and Mary. As a result of the small talk characteristic of their acquaintance-relationship, each begins to recognize in the other certain qualities which make their relationship worth pursuing. Each desires to get to know the other better. In order to do this, they make a "date," they make arrangements to get together, just the two of them, so they can share and become further acquainted with those attractive qualities they are beginning to recognize in each other. Now they begin to reveal more and more of their personal feelings, experiences, ideas and goals in their conversation. Perhaps John tells Mary things about himself that he has never before revealed to anyone. And her response is more sympathetic than any he has ever found before. Some-times this response is merely a comfortable, accepting silence; for no longer is silence between them awkward and uncomfortable. It is no longer a negative thing but as they get to know each other better and better, what had been just a void becomes filled with one another. They have now entered, not into a different kind of human relationship, but into a deeper, more intense one. We will call this deeper level the relationship of friend-ship. Remembering that our prayer relationship with God is also a human relationship, we willexpect to find the same thing happening here. After we become acquainted with God, on the first level, we begin to recognize that He has qualities worth pursuing. And so we do just what John and Mary did--we make a "date" with God! We go apart with him in order to learn more about him and also to reveal to him intimate, personal thoughts and concerns. This is done in many, many different ways. We may attend some form of religious instruction where we learn to know God better. We may read and meditate and listen to the Scriptures where God personally reveals himself to us. Whatever the source, we begin to allow his truths to form our Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 337 lives. We talk over with him our successes and failures, our new begin-nings. We internalize his truths and live his life of grace as we witness them in others or as we read the reflections of others about them. In other words by reflection or "discursive meditation," as we call it, we become ac-customed to speaking with God on a personal level, revealing ourselves to him, and, at the same time, learning about him from the truths of his revelation. Our acquaintanceship with God has deepened to the level of friendship. It would be well here to emphasize one point. The friendship between John and Mary is going to endure only as long as~ in some way or other, they continue to find interest in sharing with one another, to '~date" in some fashion or other. They must, even if it is only by telephone or by mail, keep up contact with one another. We have all experienced the strangeness of an old friendship which, after years without contact, descends once again into the awkwardness of mere acquaintance. And so it is with God. If we are to continue with him, we must per-severe in our spiritual reading, in our reflective meditation. Friendships do not remain stable. Either they are cultivated and grow, or they lessen. God, by reason of the free, bountiful bestowal of his grace, is always actively encouraging a growth in our friendship with him--Imagine! He finds quali-ties in us worth pursuing! It remains for us to cooperate. Let us look now at the third level of a developing human relationship as we see it in John and Mary. 'As they continue to grow closer to one another, the relationship be-tween John and Mary takes on physical overtones. They desire not only the intimacy of shared thoughts, but also physical closeness. This is the time when they are hardly ever seen alone. Walking arm in arm, holding hands, embracing--all these manifestations emerge now. This level of relationship, sometimes called romantic love or affection (the affective level), when it has been preceded by a genuine friendship, represents an authentic growth in John and Mary's relationship. If it has not been preceded by friendship in some way, it is merely an animal relationship. This affective relationship will develop most completely in marriage where the sharing of both per-sonalities and bodies find their fullest expression. But how can this human relationship on the physical, affective level express itself in our human, prayer relationship with God? It must do this somehow if, as we have been insisting, our prayer-relationship is a human one. And it does! Spiritual masters have given us many descriptions of this level of prayer. Some even refer to it as "the honeymoon period'~ because of its brevity, its place early in the prayer-relationship, and because of its emotional (physical, affective) elements. During this period, prayer often takes the form of intimate conversations with God, not infrequently accompanied by tears~ profound, emotionally felt sorrow for sins and a lively joy at the 33~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 realization of God's love and redemptive activity. This period (as well as the earlier friendship level) may often be interspersed with longer or shorter periods of dryness or aridity as God leads us into a deeper, firmer relation-ship. One o.f the most obvious forms of this affective prayer-relationship with God is seen in the charismatic renewal. When someone is prayed over for the anointing of the Spirit, he is not infrequently "zapped," as it were. This is often accompanied by tea~s, intermingled with expressions of joy and a desire to express and to share with others the abundant overflow of graces. More often, perhaps, it is a quieter experience which serves to fill and inform the basic prayer structures presented by the Church for our worship. This affective level has a great deal to do with the effectiveness of our formal prayer. In the liturgy, for example, the priest is given a structure (readings, prayers, canon). The power in grace that this structure is able to communicate depends in great part (though not entirely) on the depth, of faith, hope and love of the minister. On the part of the participant, the level of his affective prayer-relationship with God will determine to a great extent how much he will grasp of the readings and prayers. In other words, our affective prayer-relationship with God is dependent on our friendship with him. If we do not keep faithful to our periodic "dates" with him, going apart with him for a while, then our affective prayer relationship, as well as our friendship, will degenerate to mere acquaintanceship. Now for a final look at John and Mary. Picture them, if you will, after many years of a long, sometimes difficult, but still happy marriage. Their children are grown, married and gone. John and Mary are back where they began--just the two of them sitting alone of an evening in their home. John perhaps is reading the sports page. Mary is knitting booties for a grand-child. Neither is speaking. Indeed, Mary knows by now just how John feels about everything under the sun. John is equally aware of Mary's thoughts. Yet there is a deep communion between them that does not require words. They are happy just to be in one another's presence. This is what we call the relationship of love. Verbal expressions, words and symbols are no longer necessary or even adequate for John and Mary to communicate. Their deepest relationship is known, felt and expressed by something much more complete than the partial, inadequate attempts to verbalize it. Presence to one another without words or other external signs can be the fullest expression of this human relationship of love. And so it isqn our developing relationship with God. The fourth level of our prayer is the relationship of love, or, what we call "contemplative prayer." It is a simple, quiet, peaceful abiding in his presence, One old man who spent hours daily in the church was once asked by St. John Vianney what he did during all that time. "I don't do anything," he replied. "I just Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 339 look at him and he looks at me." This is contemplative prayer! Contemplative prayer is a very natural, very simple, albeit graced thing which is lived rather than taught. It is a quiet, loving gazing on the face of God (with the eyes of the soul) who is recognized, often even felt by his touching the soul, as present. God is known now, not through the medi-ation of words, or thoughts, or things. These have been used in earlier relationships and have served their purpose. God is seen now with and within the innermost center of the soul, not in light but in darkness, a darkness which is not the mere absence of light but the blinding effulgence of infinite light. He is heard now, not in words, but in the Word who cries "Abba, Father" in the Holy Spirit in a profound and filled silence. One other thing ought to be mentioned in regard to all of the levels of our prayer relationship with God. We must respond in accord with each level of relationship to the voice of God as he manifests his will in our lives. This involves a genuine attempt to make central in our lives the Great Commandment of love, a wholehearted and generous response to the guid-ance of his Church, a frequent and informed participation in 'the sacra-ments, and a continued effort to carry out the duties of our particular vocation in life. Eventually these things will themselves be seen as part of our prayer-relationship also. The distinction between prayer and activity will become less and less significant until everything we do becomes a response to, and thus a part of, our prayer life. It is important to stress the normality of these relationships--both with others in our daily life and with God in our prayer. The progression from acquaintanceship to love is a natural one (and only because of this is it able to be a supernatural one--grace builds on nature). We are all called to love God. And as Saint Bernard says: "The measure of our love is to love without measure." The precise manner or tradition or school of spirituality which we em-ploy to develop and express this love will vary with various individuals. There are many ladders of ascent to God. Each has to find his or her own way. Nonetheless, it remains true that in our day, the approach to God sometimes called Centering Prayer" or "the work of love" (as it is termed in the, fourteenth-century Cloud of Onknowing) has proven helpful to many either as an introduction to contemplative prayer or as a simple, system-atic approach which clarifies and facilitates contemplation. Centering Prayer i:loes presuppose, in some way or other, that we are ready for the love-relationship with God, that we have already passed through the levels of acquaintanceship, friendship, and affection, that we do feel, as the Cloud of Unknowing says, "every now and then a taste of contemplative love, by way of the action of the Holy Spirit in the very center of their souls, exciting them to love." Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope for the Human Personality in St. John of the Cross Joyce Hampel, C.S.J. This article is an outgrowth of a graduate course followed by Sister Joyce at Gonzaga Univer-sity in Washington. She resides in Star of the Sea Convent: 4350 Geary Blvd. : San Francisco, CA 94118. ~t begins, according to St. John of the Cross, with a certain burning Jove. God reaches down, takes your hand, and guides you along the way to a place you know not (N 2, 16, 7*). There you no longer understand by means of your natural light, but by means of the divine wisdom to which you are united. You no Iong.er love in a lowly manner, but with the strength and purity of the Holy Spirit. Your memory, too, is changed into presentiments of eternal glory (N 2, 4, 2). Having reached the end of your journey of love, you and your beloved are one. "Happy is the life and state," declares St. John of the Cross, "and happy the person who attains it" (C 28, 10). John of the Cross images the human personality as participant in the life of the living God. For the person seeking God, it is God who communicates himself. And it is in the transformation of the person in God that the two become one, "as a window united with a ray of sunlight, or coal with fire, or starlight with the light of the sun" (C 26, 4). Throughout John's writings, *Symbols: A, The Ascent of Mount Carmel N, The Dark Night C, The Spiritual Canticle" F, The Living Flame of Love 340 Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross / 34"1 the human person is challenged to a process of awakening and purification, making him more and more capable of God. This transformation is par-ticularly emphasized as a growth into freedom realized in fourareas of human life: stillness of spirit, radical simplicity, authentic love, and intimate knowledge of Christ the Word. Essential to each of these is the new life of God rooted in the soul, comparable in John to the perfected evolution of aged wine and tried lovers. In his Spiritual Canticle, John's bride-soul sings: In the inner wine cellar I drank of my Beloved, and, when I went abroad Through all this valley I no longer knew anything, And lost the herd which I was following (stanza 26). The image of wine is for John a helpful one in instructing spiritual persons. It suggests all the stages of spiritual growth, and parallels the relationship between lovers. "New lovers," says John, "are comparable to new wine. They are beginners in the service of God" (C 25, 10). While in the process of fermentation, wine is incomplete; its good qualities and value are uncertain, and its taste is sharp. New lovers are also in a process of fermentation. They often rely on exterior fervor, finding strength in the "savor of love" alone. Such love cannot be trusted; in fact, it carries such anxieties that the lovers are more often fatigued than refreshed. Just as this fervor and the warmth of sense can incline one to good and perfect love, and serve as a beneficial means for such love by a thorough fermentation of the lees of imperfection, so too it is very easy in these beginnings and in this novelty of tastes that the new wine of love fails and loses its fervor and delight (C 25, 10). On the other hand, old wine offers transformed refreshment. Its fer-mentation is complete, its good quality is evident, its taste is smooth. The strength of aged wine lies not in the taste, however, but in the substance. "Old !overs," reflects John, "~hose who are exercised and tried in the service of the Bridegroom, are like old wine" (C 25, 11). The souls are at rest, afflictions of love no longer burden the sense of spirit. "Spiced wine" flows in them from the "balsam of God" (C stanza 25). Such love is based not on sensible delights, as is th~ love of new lovers, but settled within the soul, in spiritual substance and savor, and truly good works (C 2~, I I). John's hope for the human personality is reflected in this example of tried love: the person is still and rests in his Beloved; sensory delights and dangers no longer affect him, for he loves only One; the essence of the " person seeks a quality of love that is purged of selfishness and hardly ever fails the Beloved; and knowledge of God clothes the person with a di~)inity that, as we shall see, is fastened on Christ alone (A 2, 22, 5). 342 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 In reflecting on the perfection of the human personality, we so often think of human capabilities as powers--powers that men and women use to control, 6r at least influence, an external force. John of the Cross, however, speaks not so much of power.or amassed capabilities as he does of sur-render. The person chooses, having already experienced the infinite love of the Lord, to hand over to him all his powers. Human perfection rests, then, in allowing another, the one who is totally other, to move him. It is a process of holding back desire~, of permitting another to enter your life, of losing some of self in order to become gr~eater. This first movement toward stillness of spirit is described in John's Ascent of Mount Carmel. "Renounce and remain empty of any sensory satisfaction that is not purely for the honor and glory of God" (A 1, 13, 14); "enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty in everything" (A 1, 13, 6). Such a self-emptying will bring the stillness that one desires. John's diagram of the ascent speakseven more clearly: In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing, nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humility. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied.(A 1, 13, 11). The mark of a person who has achieved this spirit is that he is able to "abide in quietude" (A 2, 12, 8). He can give loving attentiveness to the Lord because he has learned to be empty. Like the wine that has stopped effer-vescing, he is still. The journey that is ahead of him will surely bring darkness and pain, but trust in God effects its own inner peace. It is significant .to mention the underlying attitude that accompanies a still heart. The' person must be able to see himself in relation to God, and to exercise the patience that will allow transformation in God to happen. This is one of John's hopes for the human personality, but not everyone achieves it. Many "would rather want all to be perfect, but God finds fe~v vessels that will endure so lofty and sublime a work" (F 2, 27). Waiting is the first act of love. "God usually does things, not so there will be an immediate understanding of them, but that afterwards at the proper time, or when the effect is produced, one may receive light about them" (A 2, 20, 3). God knows what he is doing. It is we who do not know how to be still in his hands. The second characteristic John anticipates is radical simplicity. In the darkness of its cask, wine becomes mellow when the lees of the grapes settle. The liquid has taken into itself the deep color of the skins and drawn from the pulp its delicate flavors. But the wine must be purged of the sediment before it can exhibit the valued clarity. So too with the spiritual journeyer. Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross / 343 To journey to God, the will must walk in detachment from every pleasant thing, rather than in attachment to it. It thus carries out well the commandment to love, which is to love God above all things; this cannot be done without nakedness and emptiness concerning them all (F 3, 51). Such poverty requires radical denial and convergent vision. For John, this implies a todo-nada approach to the search for human fulfillment in God. You must want nothing and have nothing in order to possess everything: :For to go from all to the all you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your hll (A 1, 13, 11). All sensory desires, all thoughts,oall imaginings, all passions must find their satisfaction in the mercy of God alone. At the same time, the person must consider the life God offers him his only treasure. To rely on appre-hensions, natural or supernatural, would be to hold God in less esteem than we should. "God makes the ~soul die to all that he is not, so that when it is stripped and flayed of its old skin, he may clothe it anew., and thus this soul will be a soul of heaven, heavenly and mor.e divine than human" (N 2, 16, 7). The human person becomes more than the limitations of his appetites formerly allowed. The person becomes divine. "God loves us," writes John to one of his directees, "that we might love b~ means of the very love he bears toward us" (Letter 33). Embodied in this statement is John's third hope foi" human growth, authentic love. It is not enough to love what is good and to'avoid what is evil. An investment must be made of all that is truly human. Every passion, e~,ery hope, must be purified and directed toward the Lord of all ~reation. John admonishes 'the spiritual person to Rejoice only in what is purely for God's honor and glory, hope for nothing else, feel sorrow only about matters pertaining to this, and fear only God (A 3, 16, 2). Joy,, hope, sorrow; and fear are worthy of human attention only insofar as they are bound to God. "My every act is love,'? says the bride of the Spiritual Canticle. "Everything I do, I do with love, and everything I suffer, .I suffer with the delight of love" (C 28, 4). Authentic love immerses the total person in a self-effacing commitment. One loves with one's bodyand with one's spirit, with emotions as well as intellect. The will seeks only to love with the love of God, to "reach the consummation of the love of God" and the "essential glory to which he predestined her from the day of his eternity." (C 38, 2). In reflecting the gift of the whole person, authentic love brings the sensitive and the spiritual parts of the person into conformity with each other. The "sensory faculties ¯ ~.'. share in and enj6y in their own fashion the spiritual grandeurs which God is communicating 'in the inwardness of the spirit" (C 40, 5). To refer 344 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 once again to the quality of aged wine or old lovers, individual elements intermingle to become essentially one creation, new and ever fulfilling. Union with the Beloved requires stillness, simplicity, and authentic love. Consummation of that union requires an intimate knowledge of Christ the Word. "Fasten your eyes on him alone," instructs God the Father, "because in him I have spoken and revealed all, and in him you shall discover even more than you ask for and desire" (A 2, 22, 5). Left to his own, the human person cannot know God. Echoing the words of the prophet Isaiah~ his eyes have never even seen the things that God wills for him. Christ came to reveal to mankind the Father. It was in his humanity, in his life of human joys and disappointments and hopes and pain that Jesus calls us to our human perfection. "I have now called you my friends," he says, "because all that I have heard from my Father I have manifested to you" (Jn 15:15, see C 28, 1). To imitate Jesus in all that one does is John of the Cross' teaching; to live with Jesus in union with the Father is his hope. Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light concerning all things: and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes him and empties him of all possessions and natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things, with a general freedom of spirit in them all (N 2, 9, 1). Do not seek Christ without the cross, John writes; let Jesus be in your soul (Letters 22 & 23). It is Jesus who is the true wine of life. He is the one who brings the person to intimate knowledge of Father-care and Spirit-love. The wine cellar is .the last and most intimate degree of love in which the soul can be placed in this life (C 26, 3). It is filled, relates John, with the gifts of the Holy Spirit in perfection "according to the soul's capacity for receiv-ing them." Even here the gentleness of the all-consuming God allows for differences in the human personality, and brings to each person those gifts that will best fulfill him. Bridegroom and bride "mutually communicate their goods and delights with a wine of savory love in the Holy Spirit" (C 30, 1). How gently and lovingly You wake in my heart, Where in secret you dwell alone; And by your sweet breathing, Filled with good and glory, How tenderly you swell my heart with love! (Living Flame, stanza 4) It begins with God. God reaches down, takes your hand, and guides you along the way to-a place of ineffable love. He teaches you to be still and to await his touch. He strips you of all that is not himself. He draws forth love that is like his own. He gifts you'with the life of Jesus his Son. There are Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross 345 two kinds of life according to John of the Cross. One consists in the v~sion of God, which must be attained by natural death; "the other is the perfect spiritual life, the possession of God through union of love" (F 2, 32). This union is John's ultimate hope for the human personality--total transforma-tion in the immense love of the Triune God. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "Celibate Genitality," W. F. Kraft . 50 ¯ "Celibacy and Contemplation," D. Dennehy, S.J . "i. ¯ .30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . . 30 "Consciousness Examen," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" S.C. for Religious . 35 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassell S.J . 60 "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development," P. Cristantiello . 60 "Retirement or Vigii," B. Ashley, O.P . 30 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindeli Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience Francis X. J. Coleman Dr. Coleman is Associate P~'ofessor of Philosophy at Boston University; 745 Commonwealth ¯ Ave.; Boston, MA 02215. When picturing Christfin the way I have mentioned, and sometimes even while reading, I used to experience a consciousness of the presence of God of such a kind that I could not possibly dotibt that He was within me or that 1 wgs wholly engulfed in Him? On September 27, 1970, Pope Paul VI conferred the title of Doctor of the Church on St. Teresa of Avila, thereby placing her in the ranks of such giants as St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas. In his homily delivered at St. Peter'.s Basilica," the pope. spoke of Teresa as "the reformer and founder of an historic and eminent religious order,'~ a prolific writer of great genius, teacher of the spiritual life, an incomparable contemplative who was tire-lessly active." The pope went on to speak of "the holiness of her life. a value which was already officially proclaimed as early as March 12, 1622---St. Teresa died 30 years before--by our predecessor Gregory XV." The pope enquired concerning the source of Teresa's doctrine: :'And we might mention another particular point, the charism of wisdom, which ~AII quotations from St. Teresa's writings are drawn I~rom The Complete Works of Saint Teresa of Jesus, tr. and ed., E. Allison Peers, from the critical.edition of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, O.C.D. (Sheed and Ward, London and New York: 1950). This citation is from Life, chapt. X. 2The Italian text is in L'Osservatore Romano, Sept. 29, 1970. 3He is referring to the Order of Discalced Carmelites. 346 St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 347 makes us think of the most attractive and at the same time most myst, erious aspect of St. Teresa's title of Doctor: the flow of divine inspiration in this prodigious and mystical writer. From where did the wealth of her do°ctrine come to Teresa?" ~ After mentioning Teresa's cultural and spiritual education, her conver-sations with great masters of theology, her singular sensibility and ascetic discipline, pope Paul asked whether ther~e was not another sourc~ of her "eminent doctrine: . Ought we not re~zognize in St. Teresa acts, facts and states which did not come from her but were undergone by her, things both endured and suffered, mystical things in the" t'rue sense of the word. '~" Pope Paul was sensitive to the grea~t difficulties involved in mystical experience: "'The originality of mystic'ai.adtion is one of the'most delicate and complex of psychological phenomena. Many factors can play a part in ~t, and they oblige the observer to rnaint~ain the severest caution," though he went on to imply that there are som+ who would deny the very possibility of mystical experience itself: ". 15sychoS_nalytic exploration is breaking down that frail and complicated instrument that we are, in such a way that all that can be heard is not the sound~i~f mankind in its sufferin~ and its redemption, but rather the troubled h~utterings of man's animal subcon-scious, the cries of his "disordered passions and of his desperate anguish." What, .then, were the "'acts, facts and states" which did not' originate from Teresa but "were undergone by her"? What are "mystical things in the true sense of the word," according to the first woman doctor of the Church? In this paper i shall attempt some.'answer to these questions. In the first part I shall give a broad survey of the varieties of mystical data to be found in Teresa's writings. These data fall into three main categories: locutions, visions and ecstasies. Then I shall describe how Teresa first reacted to her experiences, what was her reflective doctrine con~zeining the methods of distinguishing demonic deception and/or self-decepti~)n from authentic mystical experience. Next I shall turn to a contemporary of Teresa who recorded his own thoughts concern'ing the supposedly super-natural events in her life. And, finally and ver~;'briefly, I shall attempt a tentative conclusion regarding her value and a method of approaching her .for readers of today. Before beginning,' however, 1 believe it is essential to define the proper place of mystical experience within the Catholic faith. When my,stical ex.pe-rience is construed as some merely private revelation, or when it is con-strued to be irrational, insidious errors inevitably ensue, both of a doctrinal and of a personal sort. Mystical experience must never be pitted against rationality; on the contrary, the immediate experience of the infinite and the transcendent is the ultimate expression of rationality. And, when mystical experience does entail privaie revelation, the sin of pride is always lurking: the mystic may affirm propositions at variance with the traditional and authoritative teachings of the Church, and contumacy is quick to follow. 341~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 As a highly intelligent woman, St. Teresa was aware of how readily people deceive themselves. She knew that there is a special temptation for religious.to delude themselves into believing ttiemselves to be the chosen recipients of some particular revelation. She was especially suspicious of the Alumbrados, or llluminists.,., The Alumbrados were in.many ways the sixteenth-century counterparts of some types of charismatics and other seekers of special gifts in our own day. The Alumbrados were not a sect of Catholicism, but rather a collective term for small groups of priests and lay persons who practiced what they thought to be a new and interior form of Christianity. Opposed to cere-monial liturgical celebration, t.hey placed much emphasis on mental prayer, in the course of which it was assumed that the mind would be subject to a "kindling," a "spiritual flight towards God." Such experiences led to confidence in one's own salvation, the shedding of all fear. In this there were dangerous resemblances to some. contemporary forms of Luther-anism. Moreover, such experience, s were indications of the possession of the state of grace, and the absolute exclusion of sin. Teresa's suspicions stemmed not only from the taint of heresy in their doctrines, but also because the Alumbrados were publically extravagant, laying claim to direct access to the Holy Spirit. To Teresa, the ecstasies and visions of the Alumbrados were either unintentional self-deceptions or intentional deceptions wrought by others upon the hapless victims. Teresa knew, and heard of, nuns who had worked themselves into states that resembled mystical,experience by excessive abuses in the area of penances, with consequent deterioration of their health. In our own day, we know that so-called "hallucinogenic" drugs of various sorts have been used even delibera.tely to replicate the behavioral and bodily manifestations of mys-tical experience. But the result, then as now, is counterfeit. Teresa confesses that she had been influenced by the Alumbrados when she was twenty years of age and had read Fray Osuna. Yet, as her thought and her mystical theology mature, she places less and I~ss emphasis on the sensuous details of her mystical experiences, and more and more weight upon the ineffable and analogical knowledge that is part of such experience, The earliest vision described by Teresa occurred when she was about twenty-one years of age. It must be borne in mind, however, that the description appears in Chapter VII of her Life, the rough draught of which she completed when she was forty-seven years old. Teresa confesses that she had a friendship with a certain woman which was "not good" for her. Although Teresa does not go into details, she states that "Christ revealed himself to me, in an attitude of great sternness, and showed me what was in this that displeased him. I saw him with the eyes of the soul more clearly than I could ever have seen him with those of the body . ,,4 In Chapter X ofherLife, Teresa distinguishes the sort of experience just ~Life, chapt. Vll. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 349 described from the one that she describes as a suspension of the soul. She complains of her imagination, i.e., the ability to conjure up at will a mental image or picture of someone or something, that it was so feeble that if she did not actually see a thing, she could not use her imagination "as other people do, who can make pictures to themselves . "~ Teresa was conse-quently very fond of images and pictures. Although she tried to imagine Christ inwardly, no matter how much she read about him, she could never succeed. She compared herself to a blind person who knows he is talking to some6ne but cannot see him. "I used unexpectedly to experience a consciousness of the presence of God, of such a kind that I could~not possibly doubt that he was within me or that l was wholly engulfed in him.: This was in no sense a vision: I believe it is called mystical theology.''6 Teresa's description of this experience of"divine engulfment" may well have been deformed by the lapse of some twenty-five years when she wrote about it. At any rate, she does not want to call"such an experience a "vision" because the soul does not "see~' anything. "The soul is sus-l~ ended in such a way that it seems to be completely outside itself. Th~ will loves; the memory, I think, is almost lost; while the understanding, I be-lieve, though it is not lost, does not reason--I mean that it does not work, but is amazed at the extent of all it can understand . ,,7 Teresa's "visions," then, do not become rich and graphic until much later in her Life, beginning in Chapter XXXI. Even these, though, were not had by the bodily eye: they were not in a~ny sense objective, shareable, "out there." But neither did the visions consist in a series of merely mental images, for Teresa complains often of her extremely feeble eidetic imagina-tion. She describes these visions as "inward disturbances" and finds it impossible not to detect in them the hand of the devil.~ Teresa felt herself powerless to resist the devil at such times. She felt interior disquiet, but was afraid to ask the other nuns to assist her through the use of holy water (she had learned "from long experience''9 that holy water is the best method to put devils to flight). In one of her most dramatic and painterly visions,;Teresa beheld, while in a state of rapture, a great battle between devils and angels. At the time, she could not understandthe meaning of the vision. A fortnight later, she saw that it was an allegory of nuns, those who did not practice prayer, and those who did.~° In 1559, shortly before the decision to found her first convent~ Teresa had a vision which carried her spirit to a place in .hell. Her description assails each of the senses: "evil-smelling mud," "wicked-looking reptiles," and a claustrophobic sense of containment: "There was a hollow place scooped out of a wall, like a cupbgard, and it was here that I found myself 5Complete Works, I, p. 55. 8Ibid., p. 204. 61bid., p. 58. Slbid., p. 207. 7lbid. 1°Ibid., pp. 208-9. $$0 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 in clos%confinement.''n She suffered from "an oppression, a suffocation and an affliction so deeply felt, and accompanied by such hopeless and distressing misery''t=' that she could not describe it too strongly. Worse than the physical pains were the pains of despair and "interior fires." She felt herself being both burned and dismembered. She was stifled. She found herself in the blackest darkness, .yet she was able to "see everything the sight of which can cause affliction.''t'~ This vision must have occurred when Teresa was about forty-one. When she compared it to the terrible and painful paralysis which struck her at the age of seventeen, she~concluded that the vision of hell was incom-parably more painful. The vision "happened in the briefest space of time."14 Sometimes Teresa's visions were of holy persons who came through such visitations to give her advice. St. Peter of Alcantara, for example, a reformer of the Franciscan Order during the Counter-Reformation, ap-peared to her in a vision to reconfirm his admonition that her convents must not be permitted endowments)5 At other times, Teresa had visions of a dove fluttering over her head, albeit the dove was very different from those one sees on earth: ¯. for it had not feathers like theirs, but its wings were made of little shells which emitted a great brilliance. It was larger than a dove: 1 seem to hear the rustling of its wings. It mu~;t have been fluttering like this for the space of an Ave Maria. But my soul was in such a state that, as it became lost to itself, it also lost sight of the dove.16 According to Teresa's own testimony, the most sublime vision that she ever experienced recurred on four occasions. It involved seeing the Humanity of Christ in a greater glory than she had ever known. Teresa seemed to see herself in the presence of the Godhead.17 The vision, and its recurrences, had the effect of purifying her soul and almost destroying her sensual nature. Using one of her favorite images, that of a consuming fire, Teresa writes .that the vision, through excess, burnt up all her desires for vain things, such as worldly possessions and dignities. The vision made her hair stand on end, causing her "to feel completely annihilated.''is Once, when she was to communicate at-Mass, Teresa saw "with the eyes of the soul, more clearly than ever I could with those of the body, two devils of most hideous aspect,''19 who seemed to have their horns around the priest's throat while heconsecrated. Teresa understood that the priest's soul was in morthl sin, yet this fact did not invalidate the Sacrament. Although she makes no explicit reference to it, this vision gave to Teresa a direct, experiential disproof.of the Donatist heresy. Teresa wryly commented, after describing one vision with elaborate ltl'bid., pp. 215-16. ~';lbid., p. 281. rZlbid., p. 216. t:~lbid. 171bid., p. 273¯ ~lbid., p. 274: ~41bid., p. 215. ~91bid., p. 275. ~lbid., p. 257. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 351 ~ detail, one which was thronged with figures of angels and demons,"° that she does not mind writing all sorts of nonsense provided that she can write sense sometimes, and :bring people closer to God. In regard to the vision just:described, she says that it "will seem meaningless" until it. is seen as an allegory of the teaching that one should not put much trust in anyone, for there is none who never changes except God."~ ~Teresa's visionscan be of an extraordinarily"personal nature. In her Spiritual Relations, Teresa recounts how Christ revealed himself to her "in an imaginary vision, most interiorly," and gave her his right hand, saying, "Behold this nail. It is a sign that from today onward'thou shalt .be my bride . My honor is thine, and thine mine.'.'zz Later in the same work she describes how he gave her a beautiful rihg.with a stone like an amethyst, only brighter, as a pledge that he promised to grant all that she asked him. Yet Teresa quickly breaks off this account with, "1 write this foolish-heSS . ,,23 Even though the imaginary visions ceasedtowards the end of her'life, Teresa was still able to write a year before her °death, from Palencia, in the year 1581, that she still seems to experiencethe intellectual vision of the Three Persons of the Trinity and of Christ's humanity. She states very simply: "I realize now, I think, that the visions which 1 have had were of God, for they prepared my soul for the state in which it now is.'''4 I shall give a much briefer description of Teresa's locutions, mainly because she does so herself, even though they are no less important than her visions. Teresa speaks of her first locution in Chapter XIX of her Life. Finding that many of her sisters were only peripherally religious, Teresa wondered why so few of them.had a true calling, as she believed herself to have. Teresa heard: "Serve thou Me, and meddle not with this.''25 Later, at the age of 42, filled with self-doubt as well as doubts concerning certain friendships, Teresa, at the direction of P. Baltasar Alvarez, recited the hymn Veni Creator. She hea?d the words: "I will have thee converse now, not with men, but with angels.''2" Her locutions are usually brief but always of translucent clarity and distinctness. "Be not troubled; have no fear,"~r or, "1 have heard you; let Me alone.''2s Sometimes they are of a practical nature: "What dost thou fear? When have 1 ever failed thee? I am the same nowas I have always been. Do not give up either of these two foundations,' ,29 or simply, "That is the house for thee.'''~° And sometimes intensely familiar: "Now, Teresa, hold thou fast.''z~ The locutions sometimes seem condescending: "Thou wilt act very 2°lbid., p. 286. 261bid., p. 155. 211bid., p. 287. Z7lbid., p. 200. 2Zlbid., p. 352. ~Slbid., I1!, p. 130. Zalbid,, p. 353. 2~lbid., p. 167. 24lbid., p. 335. Z°lbid., p. 171. ZSlbid., p. !15. ~lbid., p. 194. 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 foolishly, daughter, if thou regardest the laws of the world. Fix thine eyes on Me . ":~" Sometimes the locutions instructed her~ why she must not have further raptures in public: "It is not fitting just now. Thou hast as much credit as I desire thee to have . 1 shall cite only one example of Teresa's ecstasies, because this well-known ecstasy suffices. Teresa's own description of the transverberation of her heart occurs in Chapter XXIX of her Life. The ecstasy and vision occurred throughout several days. On her left hand, an angel in bodily form, rather short and beautiful, appeared:with a long, golden spear in his hands. At the end of the iron tip was what seemed like a point of fire. The angel "seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails. When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire, with a great love of God.":~4 II It should not be surprising that when Teresa began telling friends and confessors about such extraordinary events, some persons were certain that she was. possessed,by the devil and should be exorcised?'~ Exorcism was as common, and believed to be as efficacious, in sixteenth-century Spain, as psychoanalysis is in twentieth-century America. In their later lives both St. Teresa and St.: John of the Cross were well known for their prowess in exorcising evil spirits. Teresa, however, was herself never exor-cised. Instead, her confessors commanded her to make the Sign of the Cross whenever she had a vision,, and then to make a sign~ of contempt?~ At one point in her life Teresa herself was afraid that all her spiritual favors might be illusions?7 We know from~a deposition taken from Teresa's niece that Teresa was greatly distressedl when her raptures came upon her in public, and embarrassed when she had to confess her spiritual favors to her confessors.an Teresa had a keen eye for religious fraud and excess. She writes that women are especially susceptible to ruining their health because of exces-sive prayer; ~igils and severe penances. Such women become frail and languorous, falling into stupors which they deceive themselves into think-ing are spiritual?9 She knew that many supposedly religious raptures were nothing but the result of inanition or bad health?° In her own convents, she 321bid., I, p. 338. 33lbid., p. 339. ¯ ~lbid., pp. 192-93. ~lbid., p. 188. a6See ibid., p. 165, n. 3 for the nature of this contemptuous motion. a71bid., p. 287. aSlbid., Ill, p. 366. The niece, also nam.ed Teresa de Jesus, was born in Quito, in present-day Ecuador, in 1566. a9lbid., II, pp. 245-46. For other spiritual excesses condemned by Teresa, see Gerald Brenan, St. John of the Cross, Cambridge University Press, 1973, pp. 16-18. ~°lbid. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 353 made certain that the sisters received adequate food and rest. Teresa could be as detached and objective about her spiritual favors as if they had been granted to someone else. Writing in the third person in the ' Spiritual Relations, Teresa begins by saying "It is forty years since this nun took the habit . ,,4~ Turning to the subject of her "supernatural visita-tions," as she calls them, Teresa writes in a matter-of-fact way: She never saw anything with her bodily eyes, as has been said, but always in such a sul~tle, intellectual way that at first she would sometimes think she had imagined it, though at other times she could not think so. Nor did she even hear anything with her bodily ears, except on two occasions, and on these occasions she could make nothing of what was said and did not know what it was all about.42 Without mentioning Pelagianism, Teresa nonetheless reveals a knowl-edge of that heresy and rejects it as an explanation of her rare experiences: The soul collects wood and does all it can by itself, but finds no way of kindling the fire of the love of God. It is only by his great mercy that the smoke can be seen, which shows that the fire is not altogether dead. ]'hen the Lord comes back and kindles it, for the soul is driving itself crazy with blowing on the fire and rearing the fire more and more. I believe the best thing is for the soul to be completely resigned to the fact that of itself it can do nothing, and busy itself, as I have already suggested, in other meritorious activities, for the Lord may perhaps be depriving it of the power to pray, precisely so that it may engage in these other activities and learn by experience how little it can do of itself.4'~ Regarding the imagination,Teresa argues that it can only recombine what the mind has already experienced, and that it is prey not only to the devil but also to emotions such as melancholy. To affirm or deny anything on the basis of the imagination is invariably to be misled. Teresa concludes that because her visions do not consist of mental images, her imagination or fancy is not the source of her spiritual experiences. Although the devil can give pleasures and delights which might seem spiritual, they are inevitably disruptive of the soul's quiet. The devil might present himself to the imagination in the likeness of Christ, but the mere fact that the devil is making use of the imagination proves that he is bent on deceiving. In a true vision of Christ, he is surrounded in glory; but glory cannot possibly be counterfeited by the imagination because it is a kind of intellectually perceived aura. ~2onsequently, the most that the devil can counterfeit is the flesh.4~ But since God will never give the devil the power to feign his glory--for this would involve the impossible, i.e., divine abdication--the devil can deceive no one when he assumes the likeness of Christ, unless one is willing to be deceived. Teresa calls the devil "a skillful painter.''~'~ But just as a very wicked man might paint a beautiful painting, and one that has good effects, so, too, the devil might conjure up a beautiful image from which one might profit. 411bid., IIl, p. 319. 4~lbid., I, pp. 324-25. "~albid., pp. 264-65. 441bid., pp. 182-83. 451bid., 111, p. 41. 354 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 "We should never allow the identity of the painter to hinder our devo-tion." 46 Similarly, a vision is not good or evil in itself, but in its effects upon the person who has it. Humility~ is essential to drawing profit from a vision: if the vision is of God, but the person who receives it lacks humility, then the vision is wasted; if the vision is from the devil, and the person lacks humility, he will be misled and become even more swollen with pride. Again, although the devil can give delight, he can never conjoin extreme physical or mental pain with tranquillity and joy in the soul. Both the pains and the pleasures caused by the devil necessarily bring restlessness and discord. "Secondly, this delectable tempest comes from another region than those over which he has authority.''47 And thirdly, pain and suffering in which the soul takes delight make one all the more determined to serve God and renounce the ephemeral pleasures of this world. True visions have a clarity and distinctness which prove that they could not be produced either by anything corporeal, or by one's own imagination, or by the devil. If one has any doubts whether or not one has experienced .a true vision, then one can be sure that the vision was spurious. When Teresa had her first mystical experiences, she did not doubt whether they were genuine, but she greatly doubted and feared what other people would say. A genuine vision comes when it is least expected. The content .is no more and no less than what appears to the person having the vision. One of Teresa's confessors tried to force her to fill out the description of Christ, in view of her claim that she had seen him. Teresa replied that when she tried to see the color of his eyes or how tall he was, the vision vanished. One can always be asked to add to a description of something in the phenomenal world; but if a certain quality is not given in a vision--e.g., the Color of Christ's eyes, then the assumption that the quality was in the vision but unobserved is a categorical mistake. The final criterion of a genuine vision is the great peace and tranquillity ¯ produced by it, coupled with a strengthening of one's moral fiber.4s Physical concomitants are also frequent: the soul faints away in a manner which one cannot resist. But these physical repercussions are of relatively minor significance. It seems as if my life is about to end, and this makes me cry aloud and call upon God: this comes upon me with great vehemence. Sometimes it makes me so restless that I cannot remain seated and this trouble attacks me without my havir~g done anything to bring it on . For Ifrom my yearnings] there can be no relief; the only relief for them is the vision of God, which comes through death,, and this 1 cannot obtaih of Him.4~ Much of'what has already been said concerning the differences between authentic and spurious visions also applies to locutions. A few points, 461bid. "~rlbid., II, p. 278. 48lbid., 1, pp. 262-63; il, pp. 296-97. 46lbid., !, p. 306. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience however, should be emphasized. Although clear and distinct, the words of a locution are not heard with the bodily ear; they are more strongly im-pressed upon the understanding than if they were so heard. When one does not want to hear something, one can close one's ears or attend to something else; "But~when God talks in this way to the soul, there is no such remedy: I have to listen, whether I like it or no . -5o The locution is the unique object of one's attention, canceling out all else. Teresa is well aware that persons sometimes "talk" to themselves and deceive themselves into believing it to be some higher, spiritual force communicating with them. But no matter how subtle the locution might be., when the understanding has made up the words itself, one must know that the mind is active, rather than passive and receptive, as it is in genuine, locutions. Spurious locutions always lack the clarity and distinctness of those from God; moreover, one always has the power to divert one's attention from self-spoken locutions. Lastly; counterfeit Io~:utions are empty vocables, effecting nothing. Gen-uine locutions, even if they are of reproof, prepare and move the soul towards greater love, and "give it light and make it happy and tranquil."5~ Sometimes locutions are so lengthy, even though they come in a flash, that one knows that it would have (aken a long time to make them up oneself. ' Teresa argues that one would have to court deception in order to be deceived about~ the true provenance of a locution.5~ Of course one may pretend to having heard a locution, and lie about its contents, but, then, one may lieabout .anything. Divine locutions "instruct us at once, without any lapse of time, 'and by their means we can understand things which it would probably take us a month to makeup ourselves.''5'~ Demonic locutions have only bad effects, and leave one ina state of aridity and. anguish. Teresa is emphatic on the point that no privately heard locution can be contrary to the publicly enunciated doctrine of the Church. If any locution is at variance with Holy Scripture or the teachings of the Church, it must be. from the devil or from one's own self-conceit.54 There emerge, then, three types of locutions: (1) those which are heard by the corporeal sense of hearing; (2) those which are received by the imagination alone but which give the impression of having been heard by the sense of hearing; and (3) those from God, which involve neither sound nor'voice, and which leave an indubitable, fecund, unforgettable and clear concept in: the depths of the spirit. Teresa recommends that anyone who seriously believes he hears locutions of the first two types should be treated like a sick person. He should be advised to pay no heed to the matter: "One: should humor such people so as not 'to distress them further. If one tells 5°Ibid., p. 157. 5llbid., p. 158. 521bid., p. 159. ~lbid., pp. 159-60. 541bid., p. 161. 3*$6 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 them they are suffer.ing from melancholy, there will be no end to it. They will simply swear they see and hear things, and really believe that they do."55 Teresa casts the same clinical eye on nuns who fall into swoons and call them raptures. Such women are of a physically debilitated nature and given to melancholy. Their swoons may last for hours, but nothing productive comes from them. Although swoons and ecstasies may seem alike in some aspects, they are profoundly different. Ecstasy or rapture, which involves the union of all the faculties, is wont to last a very short time. The.soul is enlightened and spiritual effects are produced.56 Rapture is the sign of spiritual betrothal, carrying the soul out of its senses. Sometimes rapture is brought about by God's having compassion on someone who is not actually praying, but "is struck by some word, which it either remembers or hears spoken by God.' ,57 The faculties, as well as the senses, cease to function; nonetheless, God reveals his majesty to the soul. "When the soul is in this state of suspension and the Lord sees fit to reveal to it certain mysteries, such as heavenly things and imaginary visions, it is able subsequently to describe these . ,,~8 But if the visions in the rapture are intellectual, they cannot be described in any earthly terms.5a Yet in the same breath Teresa says: "although after regaining possession of their senses they can often describe many of these intellectual visions.' ,60 Teresa is immediately aware that she is contradicting herself. She tries to get out of the difficulty by saying that Jacob was in a rapture when he had the imaginary vision of the ladder, but he undoubtedly understood greater mysteries and had an intellectual vision which he could only describe in part.61 Similarly, Moses, in his rapture before the burning bush, could describe some of what he saw, but not all; yet Moses must have been impressed with great and ineffable secrets, otherwise he could never have done what he did for the people of Israel.6'-' After an elaborate comparison between seeing the private apartment of a great lord for a few minutes, and God suddenly revealing the vastness of his secrets to the ~oul in ecstasy, Teresa grows impatient with herself and asks, "Is this tantamount to an admission on my part that lthe soul] has really seen something and that this is an imaginary vision?''6~ She wants to be speaking of intellectual visions, and we have already observed how suspicious she is of the imagination. Teresa gets angry with herself: ". I have no learning and am too stupid to explain anything . -64 She characteristically changes the subject, gives a prayer and a few admonitions,.then returns to one of the central themes of,the Interior Castle: the nature of rapture. She describes some of the physical signs: The hands and body grow cold,.breathing ceases, the senses 551bid., II, pp. 279-80. "°lbid. 5nlbid., llI, pp. 27-28. ~lSee Gn 28,12. ~rlbid. "2See Ex 3,2. ~81bid., I1, p. 288. ~Op. cir., 11, p. 289. 5albid. ~41bid., p. 290. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience no longer function. The ecstasy lasts for only a short period of time, then the bodily functions gradually resume while the "profound suspension liftS a little.''~5 For days thereafter, the person might wander about in a stupor, uninterested in anything that does not awaken the faculty of the will to love. The ultimate result of such an ecstasy is good: to work harder for the glory of God. But when Teresa returns to the philosophic problem of describing the nature of rapture, she writes: "To give a full idea of it . . . is impos-sible.""~ Teresa describes another sort of rapture which, though substantially the same as the one described above, causes the soul to become conscious of an exceedingly rapid motion, while the spirit is transported with great speed. Resistance is impossible, even though the person remains in com-plete possession of his senses. To resist only makes the transport more perturbing. One feels as though one is in another world, where the light is. brighter and of a different kind than the brightest sunlight. "In a single instant he is taught so many things all at once that, if he were to labor for years on end in trying to fit them all into his imagination and thought, he could not succeed with a thousandth part of them.''~r When the soul returns from this high transport, "to live on earth is a great affliction to it . That the rapture was caused by God's agency is proved by three effects: (1) a greater consciousness of the greatness of God; (2) a more deeply felt humility and sense of unworthiness; and (3) a supreme contempt for earthly things. Conversely, one might add, if the rapture were caused by a satanic agency, the effects would be greater contumacy, overweening pride and heightened greed. In rapture the body "remains as if dead and unable of itself to do anything: it continues all the time as it was when the rapture came upon it, "in a sitting position, for example, or with the hands open or shut.''69 One rarely loses consciousness altogether. One can still hear and understand, but only dimly: When the faculties are lost through being united to God, and the soul is transformed, one reaches the peak of the rapture. When the soul is thus in union, neither visions nor locutions can occur, because the facul-ties are wholly lost.r° In the Spiritual Relations Teresa gives a long descrip-tion of union, from which I quote a part: I understand that the spirit in union is pure and lifted up above everything earthly, and that there is nothing remaining in it that will depart from the will of God, but that the spirit and the will are in conformity with his will, and detached from everything, and occupied in God so as to leave no recollection of love of self or of any created thing,r~ II1 How did Teresa's contemporaries react to her descriptions of these rare ~51bid., p. 291. ~lbid., p. 292. ~91bid., I, p. 125. 671bid., p. 295. 7°lbid., p. 158. S8lbid., p. 296. 7~lbid., p. 348. 358 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 ¯ phenomena? I shall restrict myself to one contemporary, P. Pedro Ibanez, who commanded Teresa to write her Life. A Dominican, Ibanez was easily the most articulate and perceptive of Teresa's first commentators. In a statement written between 1562 and 1564, Ibanez explains that those who believed Teresa to be suffering from deception had excellent reasons for believing so.7z He gives five such reasons: 1. Good judgment requires that we judge in light of what normally happens; and normally, people who have claimed to be the recipients of locutions and revelations were deceived, lbanez sees fit to add: "These deceptions come principally to women, and very seldom tO men."r'~ 2. In trying to ascertain the truth in any matter, we must take the judgments of the experts as definitive, e.g,, we must consult theologians in questions of theology and captains in matters of war~ The saints have always taught that very few revelations can be accepted as ,genuine. Some saints have gone so far as to repudiate all private revelations, arguing that their faith is sufficiently strong without them. When so many visions and apparitions occur to one nun, the legitimacy of all or most ot~ them is highly improbable. 3. If Teresa~s visions were gen-uine, then they must be counted as miracles; but miracles are performed "in cases of great necessity,''74 and in order to confirm the Faith. Neither of these grounds for miracles applies to an enclosed nun. 4. Saints who have been granted supernatural favors always strive to conceal them, both out of the belief that God would deprive them of the favors if they made them public, and as a sign of humility. Teresa made her "favors" only too well known: she described them to a great number of confessors and lay per-sons, and wrote about them in all of her works. 5. The devil is the cleverest of all deceivers because he mixes so much truth with his falsehoods. It is most likely that Teresa's experiences were the work of the devil. Although Ibanez concedes that these reasons have great weight, he ~.nonetheless counters that some things considered by themselves seem bad, but "if some circumstances be taken into account, seem quite holy and virtuous.''r5 His example is the familiar one from Plato: taking someone's property is wrong, but if it is added that the thing was taken from its owner in order to prevent him from killing himself or someone else, then it is right. Ibanez's defense of the genuineness of Teresa's visions rests ultimately upon the following premise: We have also to consider that there has never been a time in the world when there have hot,been certain persons with whom our Lord has been on very familiar terms and to whom His Majesty has expounded and revealed many secret things which he has determined to do . In some ages there will be more of these than in others, but there will always be some, and as a rule they will be men given to prayer, contempla-tion and quiet~r6 721bid., 111, pp. 313-333. r~ibid., p. 317. ralbid., p. 316¯ r61bid., p. 318. ralbid. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 359 Invoking God's providential care of his Church, and alluding to the threats of the Lutherans, Ibanez claims a historical necessity for'the exis-tence of certain intermediaries between the world and the supernatural. Moreover, the fact that a person lives "in great Christian perfection" is a very relevant argument in favor of the genuineness of certain revelations. Even though complete ce~'tainty concerning the genuineness of revela-tions is impossible, there are "some ways and means which are very sure.''7~ In general, the tree i~ known by its fruit,just as physicians diagnose a disease by its effects. Given that revelations and visions must be either true and good or false and bad, a true vision must partake of the qualities of God,. and a false vision must show" signs of the wiles and subtleties used by the devil.''7s Ibanez gives eleven rules for distinguishing true from false visions: 1. Visions from God must produce a sense of humility and unworthiness; thosefrom the devil bring pride and a sense of self-importance. 2. Visions from God drive the recipient to shun the world 9,nd turn away from material things; those from the devil have the opposite effect. 3. Visions from God come only to those who are systematically give.n to prayer and who mani-fest a genuine love of God; the devil's chief aim is to entice one away from prayer and to suborn one's love of God. 4. Perso_ns who receive visions. from God invariably seek counsel from learned persons, holding nothing back from their confessors; persons receiving visions from the devil be-come furtive and self-opinionated. 5. Because scholastic theology is not sufficient to pronounce on the genuineness of mystical experiences, some- " one who believes that he is the recipient of such experiences must consult confessors who have personal experience of such things and who lead lives .~of great sanctity. 6. It is all the more likely that a person's visions are from God if he has patiently suffered all sorts of undeserved annoyances and tribulations. "Our Lord is not likely to reward our patience by sending us a delusion from the devil.''r9 7. If all of a person's confessors are convinced of his purity of conscience, then it is all the more likely that the revelations are of divine origin. 8. An empirical test is to ascertain how much help and spiritual profit people obtain from familiar converse with s.~ch a person. 9. The content of divine visions should be in complete conf6rmity with the Scriptures; demonic visions are replete with irrelevances, curiosities and thingsof little edification. 10. If none of a person's confessors detects any trace of vanity, then it is all the more certain that ~the experiences are genuine. Lastly, 11. The devil persecutes and torments the good, and ap-pears to them in a hideous form; but to persons whom the deyil has won over, his appearances are pleasant, and he cajoles and flatters them. Ibanez proceeds to apply each of these rules to Teresa. On the basis of 7rlbid., p. 319. 781bid. rSlbid., p. 324. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 considerable documentary evidence, he proves that her experiences clearly pass each test. IV This is a difficult paper to conclude. One could of course change the entire mode and tenor of Teresa's experiences and delve into her medical history. As inte?esting as it might be to try to diagnose her early cataleptic seizures, her neurasthenia, and all the bodily, aches and ailments that she complained of throughout her life, I do not see how the content of her experiences can be reduced to physical causes. Of course one could attempt a psychoanalytic study of Teresa, examin-ing her very strong attachment to her father, her ambivalent friendships, her great attraction to Ft. Jeronimo, her self-flagellation and so on. But if one begins with the assumption that mystical experience is nothing but psy-chiatric disorder, Teresa's proper place is on the doctor's couch and not in the gloria so remarkably ~imbodied by Bernini. Again, one could fit Teresa's experiences into the long history of mys-ticism, drawing from Plotinus, Proclus, Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite, and many others. One could try to show how Teresa unconsciously drew on ancient Jewish, Sufistic or Hindu sources. All this would be fascinating to those who are interested in such things. Lastly, one is free to adopt William James' largely dismissive attitude expressed in The Varieties of Religiotts Experience: . confess that my only feeling in reading [Teresa] has been pity that so much vitality of soul should have found such poor employment.''~° James finds Teresa's reli-gious ideal "paltry. ,,81 But if the ideals expressed in the Interior Castle are paltry; I should lik~ to know which ideals may be called "high." It ig the conclusion of this article, however, that, in order to understand St. Teresa's descriptions of her experiences, one must construe them sym-bolically or analogically. When St. Thomas Aquinas addresses himself to the problem of speaking about God, given that no two beings are as unlike as the Creator and the created, he argues that language about God must be understood analogical-ly. In De Veritate, for example, St. Thomas reasons that there are only ¯ three ways in which one may predicate any term of a given subject: univ-ocally, equivocally, or analogously,sz He argues: "We must assert that we may not predicate anything univocally of the creature and God, for in univocal predication the intelligible nature that the name signifies is com-mon to each thing among those of which that name is predicated univocal-ly . Now,.no creature, regardless of how much it imitates God, can ever reach the point of having anything in common with God . We cannot say, 8°The Modern Library: New York, p. 339. 8~lbid. 8ZDe Ver., q. 2, a. 11. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 36"1 on the other hand, that whatever is predicated of God and creature is predicated purely equivocally, since, if no real likeness of creature to God existed, his essence would not be the likeness of creatures, and then he would not know creatures through knowing his own essence . "s'~ The conclusion, then, is that predication in reference to God can only be made analogously. In other words, if all language about God were equivocal, absolutely nothing could be said about God. The mystic's talk would necessarily be idle and utterly uninformative. His visions would have no substance or value. Yet mystics, as well as other religious people, feel driven to speak and to write about God. And they believe that their language has meaning. This language has to be interpreted, not literally, but analogously,s4 It is chiefly because readers, whether from their scepticism or their enthusiasm, mistakenly interpret St. Teresa's writings in either a univocal or an equiv-ocal fashion that this great saint's message to humanity is often misunder-stood and falsified. a31bid. a4See also ST, I, q. 13. Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Principles of Asceticism Richard J. Hauser, S.J, Father Hauser is an associate professor in the department of theology at Creighton University, and is currently its chairman. He resides in the Jesuit Community of Creighton; 2500 Cali-fornia St.; Omaha, NE 68178. There is probably no area in spirituality more difficult to discuss than asceticism. For many of us the term relates primarily to Lenten practices of mortification. Most of us were relieved when the legislation was altered, and we abandoned fast and abstinence with little sense of loss. I believe there are two major reasons why we did not miss these practices. Increas-ingly the practice of mortification was not functional in our spiritual lives. Spiritual concerns were moving beyond the traditional spheres of prayer and asceticism and focusing more directly on service to others in the world. The relationship between mortification and service was not clear. Secondly, we were becoming uncomfortable with the assumptions un-derlying these practices regarding the body. The body was frequently seen only as a source of sin and so primarily a barrier to spiritual growth. It had to be repressed to be kept submissive. This assumption was incompatible with a general cultural awareness of the importance of the whole person, including the body and its feelings, for leading a happy life. These practices were also incompatible with the growing emphasis in Christian circles on the dignity of the total perso~n flowing from the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This article attempts to spell out some general guidelines for a meaning-ful asceticism today, and then to present some practical principles of ascet-icism. In doing this it hopes to respond to the church's admonition .to all Christians to find a personally meaningful rhythm of asceticism to replace the strict system that had previously been legislated for all. 362 Principles of Asceticism / 363 Functional: Asceticism The first demand of a valid contemporary asceticism is that it be func-tional, that it foster the goals of Christian living. We are called to b~ like Christ. The Gospels present Jesus as totally dedicated to doing the Father's will in union with the Spirit. Imitating Christ, we, too, are called to do always the Father's will, and to do this with the power we have received from the Spirit of Jesus. We know from the theology of grace that :the Holy Spirit is our sanctifier and that we can make no movement toward God unless we are drawn to him by the Spirit. So if asceticism is to be functional it must promote living in tune with the Spirit. We will understand asceticism, then, as our efforts, prompted by the Spirit, to live and act always in union with the Spirit of Christ in order to know and do our Father's will. The practical challenge of a contemporary asceticism will be to establish regular rhythms in daily life that enable us to live in union with the Spirit. The general goal of all asceticism is to provide the conditions in daily life th~.t facilitate living in tune with the Spirit. But this goal must be brought down t0~ the level of the individual. Each Christian must ask the question: What is God's will for me? .How is God calling me to serve his people and his kingdom? This question is central, for no two of us have exactly the sam6 vocation from our Father. And the question must be asked on two levels. First, what is the state in life and particular occupation God is calling me to? And second, how is he leading me on a day-to-day basis to fulfill my particular calling? For example, in my own person, ! believe the Lord has called me to serve him as a Jesuit priest, and, within this state of life, to teach college theology. In addition I believe the Lord is leading me each day to mak~e decisions within this vocation that will be for his greater glory and service. To know and to respond continually and energetically to the Lord's calling demands that I live in touch with his Spirit. My personal ascetical challenge is to put patterns into my life that enable me to do this in a daily schedule that is already crowded with classes, counseling, meetings, study and research. My challenge will obviously be quite different from that of a housewife or a businessman. But the goal for all of us is the same: to know and to do our Father's will. And it is reached in the same way: by living in tune with the Spirit of Jesus. ~ We have been stressing the fact that ascetical°practices must be func-tional, related to doing the Father's will. But it is crucial to emphasize that asceticism is not concerned simply with developing life patterns aimed at the conscientious external performance of our various callings. The real challenge of asceticism is to develop life-rhythms that :facilitate an internal quality of heart that reflects the presence of the Holy Spirit during the performance of our duties. Paul gives us very concrete signs by which we .can recognize this presence: ". love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (Ga 5,22). Meeting :364 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 this challenge is the most difficult aspect of asceticism. Most of us find it much easier simply to get our jobs done and not worry about our internal quality of heart--we all know the empty feeling of getting through a day and doing everything we were supposed to, but realizing at the end of the day that there was very little Iove,-joy,. or peace. Though we have ostensibly done God's will, we have not served the Lord well because we have not lived in tune with his Spirit. The difficulty of this challenge ought not be underestimated. There exist immense obstacles to its attainment both within and outside ourselves, and it is hard to say which are the more foreboding. We are aware of our own internal dividedness, our habitual tendency to serve ourselves only, rather than the Lord and others. And just as Paul gives us a list of the qualities of heart indicating the Spirit's presence; he also gives a list indicating the Spirit's absence: ". feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy." (Ga 5, 20).And we also know .how regularly this internal dividedness is reinforced by our external situa-tion. We are continually moved away from a peaceful and loving service by the pressures of a busy schedule and anxieties from our work and personal problems. So from the very beginning the Christian who is concerned with totally loving and serving the Lord must acknowledge that the" task is impossible by personal effort alone. It is possible only by the Spirit's presence and power. Let me put it like this: if you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit, the Spirit is totally against such a thing, and it is precisely because the two are so opposed that you do not always carry out your good intentions. (Ga 5,16-17). And there is peace in the realization that his grace will always be sufficient. We need only build rhythms into our life that enable us to live in contact with it. Respect for the Total Person I believe that a major reason traditional approaches to asceticism lost their hold on us was that they were not clearly related to living the Christian life. Ifasceticism is to regain its deserved place in Christian living, it must be functional: it must clearly facilitate greater love and service of the Lord and others. But I believe that there is a second major reason, why the traditional approach to asceticism lost its hold. I believe that the Christian community became increasingly uncomfortable with one of its major-- though not always articulated--assumptions, namely that the body is pri-marily a barrier to spiritual growth and needs to be repressed to be kept submissive. It was indicative of our attitude toward the body that we felt comfortable in attributing to it rather than to the whole person so much evil in the self. We are clearly not. denying the internal dividedness of the self, the tension between the Spirit in us and our lower human nature---ourself Principles of Asceticism / 365 outside the Spirit. Any approach to asceticism that underplays this fact of Revelation is obviously distorted. But we are insisting that the body, too, is good because it is part of the person that has been transformed by the grace of Christ. The conclusion for asceticism is that the body is not only a barrier to the Spirit needing to be repressed, but it is equally an aid to the Spirit and must be respected and treated as such. This view of the person is reinforced by current theological works on the nature of the self. Theologians today continually speak of the threefold dimension of the person: body, mind, and spirit. They stress that all our acts are combinations of the three dimensions; they are simultaneously phys-ical, psychological and spiritual. One dimension inevitably influences the other two. The conclusion for spirituality is that the way we use our bodies and minds will either help or harm our life in the Spirit. And so we must respect all'principles of good physical and psychological health. I believe these insights have crucial import for asceticism today, import not ade-quately acknowledged in our previous approaches to asceticism. The chal-lenge of a contemporary asceticism will be to develop rhythms for the use of the body and the mind that respect their positive and vital role in the service of the whole person. Perhaps a note should be added on the importance of the psychological dimension for spiritual growth. It goes without saying that if body, mind and spirit are interconnected, psychological health and maturity are crucial for spiritual growth. The challenge of ascetical practices in this area is to develoP rhythms in daily living that respect valid psychological principles of growth. It is clear how intimately related are psychological and spiritual growth. For instance, a generally accepted touchstone for psychological maturity is the ability to be in touch with our inner selves and to make decisions flowing from our own insights without being unduly influenced by outside pressures. This principle of psychological health is central for the Christian. Our goal is to know and do the Father's will. To do this we must be guided by the Spirit. And' t6 be guided by the Spirit we must be in touch with our inner selves, for it is on this very deep level that God can influence and direct us. This means we must develop daily rhythms that enable us to live in tune with our inner selves. Fr~)m the perspective of mental health and maturity psychologists can only concur. The Christian seeks always to know and do the Father's will in love. We cannot do this by ourselves; we can do this only with the Spirit. We seek then to develop rhythms in our daily life forthe use of our bodies and minds that keep them under the influence of the Spirit: "Since the Spirit is our life, let us be directed by the Spirit" (Ga 5, 25). Thomas Merton's expression is perfect. The "spiritual life'" is then the perfectly balanced life in which the body with its passions and instincts, the mind with its reasoning and its obedience to principle, and the spirit with its passive illuminationoby the Light and Love of God form one ~i66 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 complete man who is in God and with God and from God and for God. One man in whom God is all in all. One man in whom God carries out his own will without obstacle. New Seeds of Conternplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), p. 140. ~ractical Principles: the Body What are these rhythms that foster our being directed by the Spirit? The most obvious place to begin is with the body--body is theterm we are using for ~he physical dimension of our existence. The basic question in this area is: What rhythms are necessary in daily living to keep the body responsive to the direction of the Spirit in energetically doing the will of the Father? There are two major principles: first, we must do whatever is necessary and possible to keep in good physical health, and second, we must do whatever is necessary to keep our sensual desires responsive to the Spirit and not to our lower human nature, that is, the part of our being that has not yet been transformed by the Spirit of Christ. The first we will ~:all the positive principle for the use of the body; the second, the negative principle. For me the first is

Issue 36.2 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Lores Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW r:oR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELI6IOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Mlarch 1977 Volume 36 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REvxEw Fort R~L~to~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw Foa R~L~mvs; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. We Journey Through Tears Ann .Marie ' Krupski, C.S.J. ," Sister Ann Marie resides at 152 Third Street; Troy, NY 12180. I would not exchar~ge th, e,, laughter of my heart for'the fortunes of the'' mult=tudes; nor would I be Content with convert=ng my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter, Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me /he secret of life and 'its mystery. . ' . . . Teals with which I join the.broken~hearted.1 Unlike Kahil Gibran, we feel more comfortable when we convert our tears tb'~"laugh~er, "dompanionship, or any available distraction. As the psalmist reflects:"Who'of us wants a pillow drenche~l with tears, eyes wasted by grief, or sustenance by the bread of tears? But really, we are not comfort-bound people; tears ar~'-an essential ingredientoin our lives and when we hesitate to convert the.m, we find that they .convert us' by purification, revelation, and consolation. ~ ~'~ Tears That Purify o To~let tears purify us, w.~"must go to andpass through Gethsemane; the thought of such sojburhing repels us. For in Gethsemane there is no periphery; outer edges are only for those who run away or fall asleep. Those who st, ruggl.e to stay mdst encounter the razor edge of unrecognized and unacknowledged realities, and to particiPate .in. these realities we must go alone. Carlo Carretto reflects: "Because not even Jesus can tal~e our place in the leap of Faith; it is up to us. It is like dying. It is up to us, and no 1Kahil Gibran: Tears and Laughter, Bantam Books, Inc., New York, 1974, p. 1. 1 69 170 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 one is able to take our place.'"-' At this time, the loneliness of pain and the pain of loneliness are so intense that our finite rootedness is shaken by fear, great distress, and sorrow to the point of death (Mk 14:34). With tremen-dous hesitation, we stumble into the crucible of inner anguish. Here, the fire of severe distress touches every fiber of our being, invades each corner pre-viously hidden from our own insights, and temporarily immobilizes us; al-though immobilization does not cripple or paralyze us. Like St. Paul, "We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed" (2 Co 4:8). Intense inner anguish teaches us to walk with suffering, and suffering stretches us beyond the narrowness of our own horizons. However, one of the haunting and terrifying qualities about Gethsemane is that even if we choose not to go there, it will .come to us. When the flood of pain drenches our soul, Gethsemane penetrate~ us, and suffering becomes unavoidable. In the agonizing abyss, we learn how to die, and how to live our dying. And the surprise of dying catches us off guard. For while we expect to walk to our death daily, we do not often foresee walking with our death. In fact, at first we may not recognize that this death-in-life is life-giv-ing as was Gethsemane, with its seemingly negative features: --Being devoid of the human support of friends: "He came back and found them sleeping . Had you not the strength to keep awake one hour?" (Mk 14:37). "My friends and my companions shrink from my wounds, even the dear-est of them keep their distance." (Ps 38:11 ). --Being stripped of the expectation that the God of the impossible will remove the struggle: "Everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me" (Mk 14:36). "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Ps 22:1). --Being vested with the willingness to do what we really prefer not doing: "Let it be as you, not I, would have it" (Mk 14:36). "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 4:34). --We go "right into the dark cloud where God is" (Ex 20:21~ and 24:18). As soon as we enter the cloud, the cloud enters us, and we go the way of apparent absurdity. In the mist, we ponder: is darkness really light; aban-donment ieally presence; diminishment, growth? It is so difficult to realize that God is here; our anguish is too great, the cloud too thick. So. often we feel: "bowed down, bent double, overcome . . . numbed and crushed . . no relief from , . . pains" (Ps 38:5-17). With the poet of Lamentations we cry out: He has forced me to dwell in darkness . He has walled me in; I c~nnot escape; he has made my chains heavy; . . . My eyes dissolve in torrents of tears. My eyes weep ceaselessly, without relief (Lm 3:6-8 and 48-50). "The God Who Comes, Orbis Books, New York, 1976, p. 40. We 1ourney Through Tears / 171 " Our spirits.,sink and our hearts groan as we brood on our anguish. We go about in mourning all day long, sometimes even moaning aloud. Reluc-tantly we try to pierce the darkness which has penetrated us; yes, :reluctantly because often we are afraid to be pierced by the light. It becomes easier to cry, more consoling to be blinded .by tears than blinded by the cloud's thick-ness. And desolation's touch has no light grasp in this agony. It is as though "there is no one to comfort me" (Lm 1:21). Any of our attempts to look for comfort become futile when the embrace of annihilation is so relentless. Gradually, the surface-rooted tree within us topples and the.broken fragility which ,remains is divested of any strength, we could have once called our own. We shiver in the exposure of our weakness and murmur the only yes that comes, the only yes that is genuine, the yes we have cried in the tears that purify. With Jesus crucified we. cry out, in a voice not loud but humbled (Lk 23:46), "into your hands I commit my spirit" (Ps 31:5). It is-this meager but genuine "yes" which is, for us, the beginning of the fulfillment of Malachi's prophecy: '"Yahweh will purify the sons [and daughters] of Levi so that they' will make an offering to Yahweh as it should be made" (Mal 3:3). So that our offering can be made as it should, we are led along the path of,constant conversion and unlimited surrender. Along this path, we begin to cry the tears that reveal the secret of life and its mystery. Tears That Reveal To let tears purify us, we went to Gethsemane.To let tears reveal mys-tery, we will go to the mount of Transfiguration. It is, here that we learn the beauty of.light and the significance of shadow, the breadth of revelation and the depth of.mystery. When we read the account of the Transfiguration, we respond favorably to the light and dazzlingly white parts. Although like Peter, we may feel somewhat awkward or ,even frightened by such intensity; we, too, want to echo his words: "It is wonderful for us to be here; so let us make three tents, one for you, one for'Moses, and one for Elijah" (Mk 9:5). How we long to stay 'with Jesus, "light of the world., and light of life" (Jn 8: 12). Immersed in radiance, we often skim over the next part of Mark's nar-rative: "And a cloud came covering them in shadow . . ." (Mk 9:7). This shadow, so significant in the whole event, helps us realize that transfiguration does not just occur in luminous light. For at .the exact moment of revela-tion Peter, James, and John are covered in shadow. And it is precisely at this moment that a voice comes from the cloud to proclaim: "This is my son" (Mk 9:8). From the cloud,'.the voice announces the revelation. In the shadow, the apostles receive it. Cloud and shadow are so vital in revelation. As~we weep the tears that reveal, we might reflect on two moments in our lives that integrate light and, shadow, revelation and mystery: the mo-ments of transcendence and of trust. (Later, each of us will be able to con- 172 / Review [or Religious; l/olume 36, 1,977/2 sider many aspects other than those mentioned here:~) However, it must be clear that~no one can share an experience: of.the transcendent~ Only, the Holy Spirit c.an do that. Sacred Scripture helps us in this'realization. .Through the prophet Ezekiel, God .tells us: "I shall put my spirit in,you" (Ezk 36:27). Jesus has revealed that ~the Holy Spirit will teach us every, thing (Jn 14:26). And St. ~Paul reflects: ~ . ¯ .'. the Spirit~ reaches the depthS of' everything, even the depths of God.'Afte( all the depths ~0fa person can only be known'by onE's Spiri't~ not by any other ¯ person, and in the same way the' depths oLGod can only~ be~known by the Spirit of God . we have received the ;Spirit that comes from God, to teach~ usto understand the gifts that he has given us (1 Co 2:10.12)¯ .~ So, filled with the Spirit, consider a moment of transcendence, This could be h peak experience in prayer, nature, music, art~ or literature. It' is ~that time when, ra'vished by beaoty and saturated ~by the ineffable, a depth of awe'brings us to ~h~°~"~bsolute Beyond" present within~us. Caressed by the Inexhaustible, 'we too ~soOn become exhausted by the_qnexpressible; penetration of the Real i~ to~ painful and touch of the Intangible too'unreal. Like Peter, we want to make a tent~make the moment last. Yet, we hesi-tate to remain in this light. For while on eai'th, we human folk do explode when filled with infinity. Once touched by trafiscendency; however, we are almost immediately covered in shadow; our peak experiences will not be timebound. Nothing can or ever will completely capture that in which we pa'rticil~ate. :A photo-graph, won't do it nor will a symphony or a poem. Mo0nbeams will always be for dancing not holding, and the Rockies, will stand majestically right where they are. Reality and ~ur expressions of it cannot co-exist with' the same degree of impact. In our finest moments of creation .(tent making) we experience endless~limitations. Our concretizations.become forever'unsatis-fying. And when we get caught in the trap of thinking that ,any of our achievements determine our worth, then indeed, does the sand of a hollow victory slip through our fingers. As, we.seek what cannot be realized, no con-tainer confine~ the tears, no expression captures the actuality and no,dis-traction disturbs the stillness.of silence~ We wlio experience such, limits long for the 'Unlimited and tears become the release-rdief. ~ ~ '~ :~' Although God "has given us the wisdom to understand' fully the mys~ tery" (Ep I ~9), :it'is only in the moment of trust,that,~we realize underst'and~ ing not solely based on the rational. This wisdom turns us inside out ~and upside down and again we weep because we so need to weep. Even the ligl~t and dazzlingly white parts of transfiguration are blurred. We :live in shadow. Yet, this moment is precious because God is so present, ~ven though veil6'd by cloud: It is in this intimate event that we experience the "existential mo-ment of redemption.'; '~For thus says the Lord Yahweh.~. your salvation lay in conversion and tranquility, your strength, in complete tru'st" ;(Is 30: 15). At first, however, we hesitate to trust the very God who made us;',who We ~lourney Through Tears / 173 Iove~ us with an everlasting love and in whose eyes we are precious. Our pride I~etrays us and we remain too rational to participat.e in ways not our own. Blinded by our desire to have our cak~ and edt it to'Q, we really pre-fer the best of both worlds. Oh yes, we'll, pray but we'll also croffd the soli-tude. We are living examples of being "distracted from distraction by-dis-traction.''' a And why not? After all, we are human. How easily we become ~rey to and proficient in processes of rationalization. Go~l, however, does not rush us. but, per~sistently draws us to himself. Best of all lovers, he is most respectful. It is as though h~ patiently asks: "Will you have me? Will you really have m6?" He gives us Jesus to be our way and to show himself to us (.In 14:6-9). Yet this revelation is always his gift, "because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own. but by'a"gift from God: not by anything,you have d0ne,~so that nobody can claim the credit" (Ep 2:8-9). My virtues do not win this, grace nor do my vices detract from it. Furthermore, it may come witho.ut invitation and planning but never with-o. ut preparation. The gift-giver himself prepares me to receive such'fullness, arid the preparation takes place in the moment of trust. It is then that I am emptied of stubbornness and stripped of~ the tendency to cling to any vanity. In speaking of love, Kahil Gibran poetically exl~resses the depth ahd ex-tent of love's preparation. , When love ~beckons to yQu, follow him, though his ways are hard and ste.ep. And when his wings enfold you yiel.d to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he sp~eaks to" you believe in him. though his voice may shatter your dreams . For even as love crowns yot{ so shall he ~:rucify you. Even as he ascends to your heights and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun~ so shall be'descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.4 In this shaking, I cry all the more; for so many realizations come: 1 must walk a way of unlimited surrender arid constant conversion until the day I leave this earth. I must die while I am alive if I really want to live. And I must lose all if I r~al.ly0~want to participate in the All. As I journey to God I cannot set limits on any sacrifice. I' cannot even expect to avoid suffering, defeat, limitations, failings or misunderstandings. Teilhard de Chardin expresses the diminish.ment I, experience in the rmoment of, trust when he discusses "appa~rent fai~lure and ,its transfiguration." ~ The lives of the saints and generally speaking, the lives of all those who have, been outstanding for intelligenc.e or. goodness, are full of these instapces in~ which one can see the person emerging ennobled, tempered, and renewed from some ordeal, or even some downfall, which seemed bound to diminish or lay the i~erson low forever. Failure . . canalises the sap of bt, r inward life, aT. S. Eli0t5 "Burnt Norton," Four Qigartets. Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 17. ~ " 4The Prophet, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 13. 17'4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 disengages the purest "components" of our being in such a way as to make us shoot up higher and straighter . . . In the presence of St. Augustine or St. Mary Magdalen . :. no one hesitates to think . . . felix culpa . . . As a result of His omnipoience impinging upon our faith, events which show themselves ¯ . . as pure loss will become an immediate factor in the union we dream of establishing With Him.:, And with Chardin I become ready to cry out: "O God, grant that I may understand that it is You (provided my faith is strong enough) who are painfully parting the fibres of my being in order to penetrate to the very marrow of my substance and bear me away within Yourself.'''~ During the emptying and parting of fibers, I pray, and in this prayer Jesus so softly, deeply, intimately, gently, repeatedly says to me: Trust Me. I Love You So Very Much; 1 Died For You. You Are Very Precious To Me. I Am With You, And I Know What I Am Doing With And Through You. Trust Me," Even When You Don't Understand. Always Trust Me. After the light and shadow, th6 revelation and mystery of transfigura-tion, when the apostles "suddenly looked round, they saw no one with them anymore but only Jesus" (Mk 9:8). So it is with us; at the end of trans-figuration we see no one but Jesus. In his light we see and don't see; in the shadow we don't see and can't see. And we cry even more because we'd rather play "finders-keepers"; transfiguration, however, teaches us the role of "finders-seekers." Perhaps our stance does not really matter after all. For Jesus, only Jesus, is in both the beauty of light and the cover of shadow. Realizing this, we, too, can hymn to God's love: Nothing therefore can come between us and the love of Christ, even if we are troubled or worried, or being persecuted, or lacking food or clothes, or being threatened or even attacked. : . These are the trials through which we tri-umph, by the power of him who loved us. For I am certain of this: neither death nor life . . . nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power . . . nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rm 8:35-39). In speaking of his discontent with converting tears, Kahil Gibran hoped to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." We shall conclude these reflections by considering these tears. Tears With Which I Join the Broken-Hearted Before I can sincerely, sensitively, and caringly cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted," I must experience the. comfort of consola-tion from God. And before I can experience his comfort, I will have en-dured suffering. Having reflected on some forms of sfiffering in the discus-sion of pfirification and revelation, we might now consider our experience of God as consoler through St. Paul's own experience of this consolation. ~The Divine Milieu, Harper and Brothers, New York, 1960, pp. 59-60. ~Tt, e Divine Milieu, p~ 62. We Journey Through Tears / 175 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, a gentle Father and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation that we have received from ~God ourselves. Indeed, as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ, does our consolation over'flow (2 Co 1:3-6). Paul pours out so much to us in this short passage. Prayerfully to travel through parts of it is to immerse ourselves in the immeasurably rich reality of the whole. God is a gentle Father and the God o] all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows. ( 2 Co 1 : 3 ). How does one speak of the comfort of God's consolation? Who dares to speak of it? Each of us has perhaps known this rest for our souls. In considering this experience, my words come simply. When I am over-burdened, I go to Him, though not at first, of course, because I am so proud and independent. Finally, however, compelled by an intense, insatiable need, I do go to him (he always invites me [Mt 11:28-30]) and he em-braces me so tenderly and holds me so gently that I wonder why I did not go to him at first. Even when I have resisted going and even when he has waited long for my coming (Is 30: 18), still he greets me as though he had always been my first choice. ~He makes no demands and asks no apologies. Instead, he lavishes me with love and gifts me with his peace, comfort never to be given by anyone or thing in this world (Jn 14:27). And only his peace can dry my tears, heal my wounds, and comfort me to the full. I will heal them and lead them; 1 will give full comfort to them and to those who mourn for them, I the Creator. who gave them life. Peace, peace to the far and the near. says the Lord; and I will heal them (Is 57: 18-19). At. first, the reality of complete relief astonishes me but the Lord fills me so compassionately that I am not overwhelmed. In fact, he enables me to enjoy: ,, A glimpse o[ glory--,I have given them the glory you gave to me" (Jn 17: 22). The glory of grace--"Indeed, from his fullness we have, all of us, received-- yes, grace upon grace" (Jn l : 16). The grace of abiding Love-~"And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). But comfort from the Lord himself, is gift given to be given again, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation we have received from God ourselves (2 Co 1 :~). Before reflecting on offering God's consolation to others, however, I must consider my weakness and God's power. When I experience purifica-tion, revelation, and consolation I become increasingly aware of my many weaknesses. At first, this knowledge overwhelms me but the love of Christ overwhelms me more (2 Co 5." 14). Entangled in the web of human limita-tions, I sometimes approach the broken-hearted ready to extend myself. All too soon I cry my own t~ars, not theirs. Readily I become weighed 176 / ~Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 down by their burdens. And unable to sustain such weight I, too, become broken.~To offer human comfort'alone, is to drain a well dry. Dissatisfac-tion with my present limits enables me to realize that on!y the Lord can "give strength to our bones so that we can be like a wat~r.ed garden, like a spring of water whose waters never run dry" (Is 58:11). Only Jesus can prbrhise that: "the water. I shall give will' turn into a spring inside them, welling Up to ~ternai life" (Jn 4: 14). Those whb drink the milk of human comfort°will thirst'again but those who drink "the water that~I shall give will never be thirsty again" (Jfi 4: 14). A~ I b'ecome increasingly aware of my weaknesses I als'o becomeincreas-ingly convinced of the l~owe~ of God. It is St: Paol who helps me in this recognition: "Yes, we were carrying our 'own death warrant with us, and it has taught us n'ot to rely on ours'elves but only on God" (2 Co 1:9). Just as the Lord prevented Paul from'"getting too proud," he encourages me in a Similar manfier: "My grace is enough fo~ you: my ~power is at its best in w6akness" (2 Co ~12:7-9). However, I cannot tangibly ~measure the power of God nor the degree to which I am offering'another the consolation that I have receiqed from God. This is a matter of' faith. In all likelihood, it is not even necessary knowl6dge for me. Besides, "the coming of thi~ king-dom ~f God does not admit of Observation" (Lk 17.:20). Despite my' weakness, the Lord assureff me that I ~:an still be a vehicle for his consolation. At times, I wonder if he almost delights in my weak-ness~ For Paul recalls: "It was to.shame the wise that God chose what is foolish by human reckoning, and to shame whatqs strong that he chose what is weak by human reckoning" (1 Co 1:27-28). This is how ou~" God is. This is how he loves us. He gives to us always all ways. And he is no respecter of strength. "Yahweh is interested . . . in those who rely on his love" (Ps 147:10-11). He is "near to the broken-hearted" (Ps 34:q8). He even permits 'me to witness his love to the broken-hearted. "We, with our unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness,, of the Lord, all grow brighter and " brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect" (2 Co 3" 18). But St. Paul also reminds us that "We are only the earthen-ware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelm-ing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). To realize the source of bur strength is a special gift so that we might "never. be ashamed of witnessing to the Lord . . . relying on the power of God" (2 Tm 1:8). Having recognized weakness it is possible ~to say with St. Paul: "I have not lost confidence, because I know who it is that I have put,my tru.st in, and I have no doubt at all that he is able to take care of all that I have entrusted to him" (2 Tm 1:12), Now I am able to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." And it is through Christ that consolation will Over[tow (2 Co, 1:6). ,We Journey Through Tears / 1177 Conclusion All life pulses with rhythm and the rhythm Of life pulses within me. Just as seasons of the year repeat, so do seasons of the spirit. Therefore, the Gethsemane experience will be repeated in my life. However, upon its return, neither I nor Gethsemane will be the same. A return or returns are each different from the other and each different from any other's. My body may be ravaged by physical pain, my mind tortured by mental anguish, or my faith shaken by spiritual darkness. But God will be with me throughout it all: leading me, teaching me, and advising me. At last, I will enjoy transfiguration not for a moment bat for an eternity: not only Jesus, but Father, Holy Spirit, and the whole c~ourt of Heaven--[orever. My journey will be finished, "the Lord Yahwehlwill wipe away the tears" (Is 25:8), and "there will be no more death, and no more mourning or sadness" (Rv 21:4) ]orever. ,Now Available As A Reprint Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Se~ks.Him Price:,. $.3b pei: c0py~. plUs~.postage._ Address:~ ~ ~Review for Religious 612 iHumboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 The God of Brokenness Jean Annette Gustafson, C.S.J. Sister Jean Annette last published in these pages in the September, 1976 issue, pp. 77'1-776. She now works full-time as writer, composer, liturgist and artist. She presently resides at 211 Third Ave.; Venice, CA 90291. Often I find myself reacting to the one-dimensional God of our theologies: the God who is always good, kind, loving, patient, supportive, and affirm-ing. If God is omnipotent and omnipresent, then I cannot reconcile this type of God with the majority of my experiences. Too much of life is harsh, violent, non-supportive and tragic. The human condition is characterized by infinite examples of suffering and brokenness: sickness, death, divorce, shattered relationships, crushed hopes, lost loves. For me to believe only in the God described above is to place him somewhere outside the human con-dition; it is to say he is not presentin some of the most significant moments ,of my life. The only God I can know is the God who reveals himselfwthe God whom I perceive in and through my experience. This is not to say that the God I perceive is really God, for the human mind will never in this life totally comprehend or understand who God is. God is indeed a mystery, a paradox. He does transcend the human co~aditibn and yet is somehow intimately involved with us on a day-to-day basis; he is "unmoved" by hu-man suffering and yet profoundly loves us and cares about our pain; he is active in the world and yet often remains silently passive. What I venture to put forth here is certainly not an attempt on my part to define God. It is, however, an attempt to break, down his usual stereotypes and once more to acknowledge his mystery. I have come to a point in my life where I am acutely aware that our words and theologies of God will always fall short of his reality. Our words--good, kind, loving,,and so forth--are not really God, but symbols 178 The God o] Brokenness / 179 which describe our experience of him. When I say that a patient, supportive, affirming God does not always "work" for me, I am merely saying that these words are incomplete, these symbols do not always describe my ex-perience. In times of great suffering and stress, I perceive a different God who no longer fits into the nice, neat categories into which I usually squeeze him. This article is not intended to imprison God in a new "box," but to present, in words I realize can only be symbolic, another one of his many faces--that of the God of brokenness. This God I have experienced ~ is similar to the Hindu Brahma, who creates, and Shiva, who destroys. My God is both loving and dangerous, gentle and violent. He builds me up and he tears me down. He gives me life and he makes me die. He consoles and yet leads me to the pit of desolation. He is the God of Jacob, who wrestles with me and then leaves me maimed. Like the God of Isaiah, "he is a sanctuary and a stumbling stone" (Is 8: 14). He wounds and bruises (Is 30:26); he immerses me in chaos and leaves me bewildered (Is 34:32); he smashes my defenses (Is 24: 13); he reduces me to nothingness and ruin o(Is 24: 14). I do not believe God actually works to destroy me or that I am but a helpless creature victimized by him. But when I am in the throes of a terrible experience, I certainly am aware of my helplessness before his tremendous power. When I feel like he is breaking me apart, I do not consider him to be good nor do I regard him as gentle. His arrows pierce deep (Ps 38:2); his hands .lie on me heavy and hostile (Jb 30:20). Like a lion, he hunts me down (Jb 10: 16), dashes me to pieces (Jb 16: 12), ani:l wrenches me from all former relationships. He causes dissension within and .around me, and often breaks my heart (see Lk 12:49,-52). With wild ruthlessness, he knocks down what he has built and uproots what he has planted (Jr 45:4). "I am going to break [you] just as one breaks a potter's pot" (Jr 19:10-11 ) ; "Irretrievably shattered, smashed., so that of the fragments not one will remain big enough for any use" (Is 30: 14). This "destructive" side of God is something I find in Jesus. As Simeon predicts, Jesus is the child who "is destined for the fall and for the rising of'many" (Lk 2:34). Jesus is not always the "nice guy"; sometimes he is violent, ,angry, and passionately judgmental~ Blatantly he condemns the Scribes and Pharisees; voci.ferously he expels the money changers from the Temple and overturns their tables; defiantly, he l~reaks all sorts of laws and customs of his culture. He lashes out at Peter, ."Get behind me, Satan!" and curses the fruitless fig tree. He deals almost harshly~with both the Canaanite woman and the woman with the hemorrhage. Jesus is the God-man who comes not to bring peace, but the sword. "I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Mt 10:34-6). At the same time, however, Jesus is also someone who is broken by God. Jesus knows only too well what it is to experience hurt and disil- Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 lusionment, the temporariness and fickleness of loves lost. ','You have turned my' friends against me and made' me repulsive to theme' (Ps 88~8)'. "Even my closest and most .trusted friend who shared my table rebels against me" (Ps 41:9; see Jn 13:21 ). Jesus is not always the strong man of Galilee, calling the cards and ~dealing out miracles. He ~is 'a betrayed man,. an aban-doned son, a person whom. his family considers mad and whom his con-temporaries scorn, His agony in the garden is real agony --- close to a com-plete psychological and spiritual breakdown. ',I ~am a worm and no 'man . O :God;:why have you forsaken me?" (Ps 22; Mt 27:46). To perceive that God can"and perhaps does on occasion do violence to us leads me to ask the inevitable: why? Perhaps God is angry and is punishing us.~As the prophet Jeremiah says, ~his is anger that will°burn forever. "We are burnt up by your anger and terrified by your fury" (Ps 90:7). "I will enslave you to your enemies in a country which you do not know, for my anger has kindled a fire that will burn you' up" (Jr 15: 14).0"Yes, a fire has blazed from my anger; it will burn to the depths of Sheol" (Dt 32:22). Perhaps God is jealous (Zc 8:2). "You shall have no gods except me . . . for I am a jealous God, and I punish" (Dt 5:7-9). Or perhaps God.is a stern father, a law-giver, who disciplines and purifies us. "Yahweh your.God is training you as a man .trains his child" (Dt 8:5). "Yahweh reproves the. person he loves, as a father checks a well-loved son" (Pr 3:ll:-12).'Like Jeremiah's potter (or like Pygmalion with Galatea), perhaps God 'tears us down only t6 rebuild and reshape us into 'something better (see Jr 18:4). We are leaky cisterns' which, he must break and then refashion (Jr 2: 13). These answersall seem to play a prominent part in the underlying philosophy of numerous scriptural storie~. God sends a massive flood to destroy the wicked while he rescues Noah'.s family. God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah but sa~es Lot and his relatives. God mak6s the Israelites wander in the desert for forty years until a new generation can be born. God/Hosea punishes his unfaithful wife/Israel but later restores, her to his house. God/Jesus tears down the Temple and in three days rebuilds it. Somehow, howeyer, none of these answers quite satisfy' me. It's not that they are false explanations; it's simply that they define the experience of suffering as something reasonable, as a "means" to something better, instead of as.an experience valuable in and of itself. ~ ~When I suffer with a goal or endpoint in mind, I may live so much in the future that.I remove myself from the present. I somehow anesthetize my pain. -"O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" In essence, I do not suffer. I deny my reality. When. I suffer "for some-thing," I may reduce faith to a false Pollyanna-ism. ,~'What we suffer in .this life can never be compared tb the glory which is waiting for us'? (RmS: 18). In real suffering~ I do not know how things will turn out; in real life, I never,,can predict the~ future. Suffering does not~ guarantee, anything. Further- The God, o! Brokenness more, this mentality of suffering ,~'for something" may giveobrokenness a redeeming'~quality, .but it sets up a false dichotomy. The sentiment that "Today, I am miserable; tomorrow I will be in God's company" puts God somewhere ,Outside the actual experience of being broken. ,.,,Thus, for me, the .symbol,~"God, of brokenness," encompasses ,still another aspect of the Hindu Godhead: Atman, the God within. I see this God's face"in all ~places and .in all people: the spaced-out, hard-looking Clients of a San Francisco V.D clinic, the urine-splattered body of a friend's alcoholic father, a crazy war veteran who lives with his cat on the Marina del Rey ,.jetty, thee frightened old people who spend their last years waiting for death, the neighborhood 'derelicts who rummage through garbage cans seaching, for food, the ~almost hopeless Vietnamese refugees who are not 9nly alienated from their homes but who are overwhelmed by grief, guilt, and depression. This God .is the God of emptiness and senselessness, of divorce and tragedy. He is a strange God--silent, still, vague . . . a God who redeems ,brokenness, not-by changing it, but by being there himself broken and hurting.- This God is a sad God: one who experiences.misunderstanding and poverty. He is a hungry 13od; the God of the streets, the God 0f .the Third World.~ He is. there in failure, exhaustion, rejection. He is a wounded God, who gets threadbare when we do, frustrated when we are, and wearied when we can no longer keep going. Like Jesus, he weeps over a situation he cannot change (Lk 19:41). "How,~often I have longed to gather you together, as a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings" (Lk 13: 35).~ He cries when one of his friends dies (Jn 11:35). "Tears flood my '~eyes night and day" (Jr 14:1~7). This God is somehow helpless with-us. He can do nothing while sinners prosper and good people are stoned to death (see Mt 23:27; 21:35; 22:6). When we s~uffer, he suffers. To perceive a. God who may be broken is to discover intrinsic value in, the experience ,of brokenness. Brokenness is no longer seen as evil in itself, or something which reflects God's absence. Instead, brokenness be-comes the place where we can touch God in .a new way; we can share with him~on deeper levels,.with greater understanding. "A destruction has been decreed," says the .prophet Isaiah, "that will bring inexhaustible in-tegrity. Though Yahweh has struck. [you] harshly, he will heal [you].-. He will reveal himself to you" (Is 10:22). Job, innocent of any crime.but devastated by God ne.vertheless, concurs. Brokenness establishes for us .a new relationship ~with God. "I knew you tlien only by hearsay, but now, I have seen you with my own eyes" (Jb 42:5-6). Brokenness is not just a bad side of the human condition; it is the foundation of integrity, the place where we encounter God face to face. And because God is there, brokenness becomes essential to the realization of true. liberation and full humanization. To be human somehow, contains the inherent predicament that we 1112 / Review for Religious, l/olume 36, 1977/2 tend to build houses on sand instead of on rock. We seem consistently to Choose the particular~in place.of the universal; 'we settle for myopic truths rather than truths of a cosmic dimension. We see aspects of God, and tl~en label them as God in his entirety. We reverence certain values, and then. give' them too much value. We discover another person, and then make-him° or her into a god. Like Humpty Dumpty, we sit securely on the great plans and structures we have erected, never realizing that they lie directly over the "San Andreas fault." Inevitably they crumble and we fall apart with them, never to be put together again in exactly the Same way. Brokenness hurts so much and affects us so completely because it always involves'the loss of something we value, someone we believe in, a truth upon which we base~ our lives. In a sense, the value, the belief, the base from whii:h our actions flow, are all false gods. To lose something or someone extremely significant shocks us into recognizing that although we have been sincereand t6 the best of our knowledge, righteous--we have also been dishonest. We have limitedtruth to our vision of truth; we have blinded ourselves to the larger reality. When we do encounter the real truth, it nearly devastates us: we hit 9.0 on the Richter scale; we ex-perience the total disruption of our previous life patterns. It is as though We were dismembered, detached, estranged from our own selves. The~ truth hurts. None of us likes to get broken. To preserve our-selves from pain, we necessarily alienate ourselves from truth. This, to me, is the essence of sin. We sin whenever we are content with our present understanding of reality and refuse to hear, see, or feel anything to the contrary. Remember the temptation of Jesus in the desert? It is the tempta-tion not to stumble, not to fall, not to be broken. We sin whenever we try to maintain Our psychological, social, or spiritual, status quo~and thus pre-vent the truth from getting too close. How ingenious we are in employing defense mechanisms which sus-tain our superficial peace of mind! How eagerly we let our inner sirens, like those of Jesus Christ Superstar, lull us to sleep and convince us that we have nothing to be worried about. How quickly we turn off the problem~, subsurface anxieties and fears that upset us/ and believe that everything is as it should be. "With God on our side, who cab be against us?" (Rm 8: 32). Just trust in the Lord, and we shall be saved. This artificial stance is what Kierkegaard would call "philistinism." It is a mediocre type of existence which thrives on safety. Like Chief Bromden, in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we refuse to "stick out too far," and like Jenny in Ingmar Bergmann's Face to Face, we cannot .probe too deeply within ourselves. Either position is a risk; either can break us. I am beginning to realize that we are all makers of idols in one way ~or another. We close ourselves ~ff to certain parts of reality. If we start feeling uneasy in our self-deception, we simply take another pill, swallow some more bourbon, or enroll in transcendental meditation classes. In some The God. o] Brokenness / ! 113 area of ou¢.~iives and' our relationships, we .d.ull our truth-receptors and choose to live--again, like Chief Bromden--in a perpetual state of fog. So much of our "normal" ' existence so effectively evades the truth, that it takes a bizarr~ and catastrophic event to. make us realize, with Dr. Martin Dysart in Equus, the enormity of our numbness and the magnitude ofour 'repression. No wonder that when promises and relationships (which were really founded on incomplete truths) are broken, so' many of us have emotional and nervous breakdowns. Brokenness forces us to re-evaluate our vision of-reality, reassess our beliefs and values, and perceive the truth more comprehensively. What continues to amaze me is the belief that in Jesus I not only find a broken man who stumbles and falls all the way to Calvary, but a broken God who stumbles, falls, and is crucified. The God-man on the cross is the most" incredible event in history. It not only boggles my mind; it shocks me (like St. Paul who got knocked down from his horse) into new levels of awareness. That God would choose to become part of the human condi-tion, that he would be incarnated as Jesus, that he would allow himself to be broken, forces me to see reality in a new way. Truth becomes larger than I ever imagined. My former truths, like clothes which have shrunk, are no longer big enough. I have changed. I am somehow more honest, and thus, mor~ capable of achieving liberation. I believe that the God-man on the cross happens every time we suffer, every time we wait withoot hope, every time we lose heart. In brokenness, we enter an altered state; our consciousness expands, deepens, matures. We become necessarily more humble, for we now realize our grasp of truth is not~as all-encompassing as we once thought, our power to control the future is not as absolute as we would,have liked, we' are not really made up of "sugar.-and spice and all things nice." We are not yet honest, not yet free, not yet human. We cannot put new wine in old wine skins, nor can we put new truths in old structures. To become new, to become whole, adult,' ~integrated, means to somehow "suffer in God's way," "to change for.the better" (2 Co 7: 10): We must. detach ourselves from our old struc-tures and bonds; we must constantly undergo experiences of brokenness. We.must "break the unjust fetters and undo .the thongs of the yoke . . . to let the oppressed [in and outside us] go free" (I~ 58:6). It is beginning to make some sense to me ~why such towering persons of G0d--Augustine, Teresa of Avila, Joan of Arc, and countless others-- are all persons who have known brokenness, not just once, but over and over again. "It is indeed a dreadful thing," as the author of Hebrews tells us, "to fall into the hands of the living God" (Heb 10:31). To establish an honest relationship with God is to live, as Teresa writes in the twenty-first chapter of her Autobiograph~,~"a troubled life, never without its crosses, but a life of great growth." To t~y and yet to make mistakes, to be sincere 184 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 and yet to fail, to give everything and. realize it is still not enough, is.to be, come more human and, I think, more like God. Perhaps what I am writing about is another version of John of the Cross' last Night of God, Albert Camus' existential stance in the face of absurdity, the Gestalt therapists' belief that we must experience and value our suffering. In each of these systems of thought, we are called upon to suffer with a courage which~'in a way surpasses faith. For m~e,~the God of brokenness is a symbol which evokes from me the realization that God al-ways transcends what I believe about him, and thus challenges me beyond faith to a courage to let go of my questions and also m~y answers. Like Job--face to face with the God of brokenness l receive not only the power to persevere through suffering, but the power to heal and be healed. This is what I think Paul means when he writes:- "I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly" (Col 1:29). If we can but touch this broken God, contact mystery and let it remain mystery~ then shall our wounds be .quickly healed over (Is 58:9), then shall we obtain new life, then shall our broken hearts be revived (Is.57:15). "I will heal [you] and console you," says the God of Isaiah. "I will comfort you to the full, both you and your afflicted companions . Peace, pe~ace to far and near, I will indeed heal you" (Is 57:18-19). 1 do not write these things lightly, nor are they, for me, "pie-in-the-sky" truisms. I write them as someone.who is just now emerging from an. over-whelming three-year experience of being crushed and broken. I have not been able to put myself together as before, nor, for that, matter, have ."all the king's horses and all the king's men" been any more successful. But, almost like Ezekiei's vision of the dry bones, I feel my disjointed parts knitting together in a new way, with a new identity, a greater integrity, and a freer spirit. God is active and present in my experience; his spirit is breathing life into my broken pieces. ,Not only has brokenness changed me, it is increasing my capacity to act and live so that the liberation and humanization of others can also take place (whether these others live in the Third World, in my, neighbor-hood, or in my family/community). As St. Paul says, it seems we mu~st suffer change within ourselves so that we may be better able to increase love, build stronger bonds between persons, improve our k~nowledge of reality, and deepen our perception of the entire trtith (see Ph 1:9). Broken-hess-- with its simultaneous experience of a passive God--is forcing ,me to acknowledge my limitations, but also forcing me to accept the responsibifity to do what I can to eliminate the oppressors of the human spirit. ~, ~ I do believe in a God of love, but I also know that I do not know what these words mean. Perhaps, as Noel O'Donoghue writes: "Love is first and last the heart open to be wounded again and again and again.~. Where the tears of things, the tragedy of life has touched ~me most poignantly, :The God o/ Brokenness / 185 there, in that direction is the heart of God.''1 For me, a God 6f love is also a God of brokenness--who breaks me (or allows me to be broken), and yet who is broken with me. I do not understand suffering, nor do I understand him. All I can really say is that I have been br~okeg, I am being healed, I will be broken again. And somewhere in my suffering, he will be there. O God, whoever you may be, I pray for the ever increasing ability to see your truth clearly and to keep trying despite all obstacles. Do not let my floundering be for nothing or my agony wasted . Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new (John Donne, "Divine Meditations, 14,). 1Noel Dermot O'Donoghue, O.C.D. "The Faces of God," Doctrine and Li/e, Sept. 1976, pp. 639 and 643. Soliloquy of a Seed Something tells me to surrender ail' I am and hope to be; and (o de~s'cend the dark of earth to be transformed into a tree; but~to go up dare I go down and think a tree can fit in me? Edward A. Gloeggler P~O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Cooperation or Opposition: Analytical Psychology and Christianity Approach Suffering Josef Goldbrunner Professor Dr. Goldbrunner is on the faculty of the University of Regensburg, Ger-many. Analytical psychology and Christianity constitute two theoretical systems; they are both patterns of life as well as two theories about salvation. What is their mutual relationship? Is cooperation between them possible or are they fundamentally opposed to one another? This question is 'to be examined with regard to another question which distresses them both--the question of suffering, We shall investigate the effect the two have on those who suffer, not only theoretically but in the instance of concrete results. How much supportive and effective force does Christianity exert on those who suffer? And what effective force lies at the disposal of Jung's analytical psychology? The method chosen for our investigation is that of the "soul's journey," a method Dante likewise selected as the basis for his Divine Comedy. In the present instance, however, we have in mind a contemporary soul-journey; and we envision, as it were, a skyscraper with an elevator in which we will ride from top to bottom through all the stories down into the basement where the foundations of the structure--analogous to the dwelling place of the soul--are anchored. A stop will be made at some of the stories and the problematics involved in each stop will be debated. I From the penthouse at the very top of the building we gaze out into a landscape of suffering whose traces are evident everywhere: psychic suffer-ing, .spiritual suffering, mental suffering; and in every instance pain is pres- 186 Cooperation or Opposition / 1117 ent like a devouring, caustic acid. The full]/ human experiencing of such pains we term suffering. Is there any remedy for this suffering, any rcure or perhaps even a deliverance from it? A terrifying landscape of suffering lies before us, a landscape which at first glance seems meaningless. Dare this suffering exist? Ought it to be? Must it be? Is suffering an .evil or is it good? And not only do we encounter evil as' something existent, but men as well who of themselves increase it. These are questions which have plagued mankind since the beginning of time. If we descend one story, however, we will discover there, stored in a library as it were, the answers which mankind has proposed to these self-same queries. Let us begin with antiquity: Vergil knew that objects, too, have their tears--sunt lacritnae rerum--and Aeschylus had his Agamemnon state that "in suffering there is knowledge." That is the pedagogical value of suffering, a value 'which is still a contested issue. Then, too, there are books in which the pain of initiation rites is described, pains of growth or "becoming" in-flicted during such rites. There are, furthermore, books which glorify this pain as a type~of mysticism of sufferingi Christian spirituality in particular has contributed to the support of this attitude: through suffering one merits heaven, for suffering is a form of participation in the sacrifice of Christ. We can also discover books about the intoxication of pain, books which originated in archaic mystery cults, As a result of this intoxication of suffering an explosion-like expansion of consciousness is produced which extends into the realm of religious experience: Although the aging and .morose Schopenhauer denied that pain has any meaning whatever, Kant spoke of its immanent value to life~ Nietzsche elevated it to the level of an heroic stature and Teilhard de Chardin maintained that pain is indeed a propellent force in the process of evolution. In the writings of India we are taught that it is only through repeated rebirths that we are ultimately freed from pain. In the books of the Jews pain is looked upon as a punishment for guilt and is required for the confirmation of the good. And then there is Camus. In his novel The Plague he~ says to the dentist: "We ought not to rest so long as there is one child who is still suffering. A god who would allow such a thing--no~ there is no god." The poet Hermann Claudius once penned the noteworthy verse: " 'Great God of eternity, do You will joy or sorrow?' And the voice above me spoke, 'Why do you distinguish be-tween the two?' " Thorton Wilder remarked sarcastically: "Why have the gods not expressed themselves more plainly in this matter?" And Berdyaiev, who died in 1948 as a Russian 6migr6 in Pai'is, speculated in his famous boo~, The Meaning o[ History, about the possibility of a catastrophy which erupted within~the bosom of the Trinity: pain may well have arisen as a direct consequence of this catastrophe and God himself had to make 188 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 amends for this by personally entering into the world,and gathering it unto himself. Answer follows upon answer. In the final chorus of the Passion Accord-ing to "St, Matthew we are told: "Amid tears we. sit down," but it is pre-cisely this, ho~vever, that we no longer are able to do. Sorrow shouldo.nOt be; that is the protest that weighs upon our shoulders today. We ought to do everything in our .power to ward off pain.Can analytical psychology be of any ,assistarice here? And .Christianity, what can it effect in this. at.ca? What can the therapist do to alleviate suffering? What, the pastor of souls? III ~ Let us descend one more story where we come upon a therapist's con-sultation office. Across from him sits a patient whose eyes radiate an intense suffering, a, spiritual~ pain, a person who can no. longer, frge himself.from his own nightmares. Hideous monsters harass him, close in upon him, and the more he tries to ward them off, themore they pursue him, the more loath-some they become. He endeavors to defend himself against all this horror, against theseS'negative factors that seek to force their way out of his uncon-scious into .,his consciousness. Then the therapist demands of him that he overcome this dualism, this .dichotomy within himself, by accepting this darkness~within him, by admitting that these monsters spewing forth evil are also. an integral part of his nature. The patient .stares at him without comprehension, even more, with spiritual horror. He is to be~not only Jupi-ter, but Saturn as well? Not only: Apollo but equally. Dionysus,~,Faust and Mephistopheles? And help, he. is told; can be obtained, only if he.':over-comes~ this dissension, this dualism~ and admits that this darkness .is only a part of himself. Yes, this is the way to wholeness, the way.~of integration of the darkness within one's own inner self. This is the juncture at which curative indivjduation occurs. Analytical psychology points out ways to such a possibility,for life; Who-ever has once gazed into the horrified eyes of one suffering in such a man-ner, ,one caught within such a personal crisis; and whoever has seen how there gradually emerges from this horror a composite of shuddering and fascinated astonishment, because in this commingling of good,,and evil, .of joy and.grief, in this union of light and darkness a new dimension reveals itself, a religious dimension actually; whoever has experiqnced these things for himself knows that the way of individuation is indeed a~form of healing which leads one from the depths of spiritual suffering to new life: That,is the way out of the dualism of light and darkness to the ,fusion of their antitheses; out of the enmity of good and e.vil, the enmity~of good and,evil tendencies, to the reconciliation of, the, two; from the separation of the conscious from its roots in. the subconscious to wholeness; from fruitless suffering to a type of rebirth. Medical experience has discovered the truth of this again and again with reference to individuals, the individual.patient. Isit Cooperation or Opposition / !119 not possible that the way of individuation is of equal verity with reference to the collective life of.mankind? Would it not be possible, then, that ana-lytical psychology could also aid in the alleviation of the' great .sufferings of all mankind? ~ ~ . IV , Let us now leave the therapist's consultation room and'take the elevator down another story to his study, a veritable replica of.the chambers of Doctor Faust. A book is lying on his desk, a copy of Jung's Answer to Job, and across from the psychol~herapist sits a thrologian who is at the same time an expert in pastoral care, a man in other words who" is not only learned in the area of theory but one who from personal experience is in-timately 'acquainted with the heights and depths of the human soul. He places a copy of the Holy Scriptures on the desk in front of him and a dialogue ensues between the two, the psychotherapist and the theologian, between psychology and Christianity. In his book Answer"to Job Jung poured forth all the. professional anger in his soul his anger with God, the creator of such a'world, and his anger with Christianity which often enough only increases the sufferings of man here on earth. The book is, however, also an attempt to apply 'his theory of individuation to the question of the sufferings of mankind. Although he is not able to provide a wholly satisfactory answer to this question, otir expectation allows us to hope that he will be able at least to convert the torture chamber into an operating room. Let us listen a moment to Sbme of his argument and share a portion of his Answer to Job. Dichotomy, dualism, division--these constitute the source of all un-happiness; but especially the dichotomy between the conscious and the un-conscious, between light and darl~ness and, too, between good and evil. This dichotomy within the soul is projected onto our image of God kand thus God is drawn into the dichtomy within the human soul. According to Jung, Christian teaching has recognized only the luminous Christ as the Son of God, while his dark brother, Satan, has been wholly separated from God. In a very early stage 0f the development of Jewish theology, Satan was still a member of the heavenly.court and he bore the title LuCifer, the bearer of light (Jb 1:6). Christianity, however, drove him out from the court of heaven, thrust him down into hell and thereby separated evil from God. In God resides only good, and consequently all evil, all wickedness had to be eliminated from the image.of God. The orientatiow toward such an image of God, however, must necessaiily have negative repercussions on man, who will then seek to repress into .himself all forms of darkness arid to force his shadow down into his subconscious. It is there that the devil now rages and generates collective explosions the two World Wars and the ter-rible interlude in Germany between these wars. If we would but dare once again to alter the image of God, to concede that Christ and Satan are:both 190 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Sons of God, to unite light, and darkness, good and evil, to reconcile joy and pain, and to recognize in God the conjunction of antitheses as a complexio oppositorum; and then, if man would have the courage to identify himself with such an image of God, then indeed mankind would open a way for accepting the evil and shadow within itself, an acceptance with even a religious basis, for it would but reflect the very nature of God himself. Were this so, ext, reme tensions would subside to a bearable and politically manageable level. The conscious would be so conjoined with the subconscious that henceforth evil could be controlled by man and never again would, the explosions of warfare have to erupt from within the structure of society. That would indeed be a way for mankind out of count-less sufferings. This is a fascinating train of thought and, even though the exegesis of Ju.ng's book is now long out-of-date, we do find in it an image of God the contemplation of which demands great courage: God as bright and dark, good and evil, an image which nonetheless could prove to be the remedy for the hopeless situation of the world today. Were this concept to prevail, analytical psychology would be more than a mere medical, discipline; by abandoning the consultation rooms of the doctor, psychological therapeutics would evolve from a healing science to a salvific science. But let us not at- ~tempt to take the easy way out. There are passages in the Old Testament which seem to verify Jung's view: see Is 45:6-7: ". I am the Lord, and there is none else~ I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil . " And in Lm 3:38: "Shall not both evil and good pro-ceed out of the mouth of the Most High?" The image of God in the Old Testament would seem to confirm what Jung proposed. The theologian sitting opposite the therapist begins to speak: "I under-stand your whole protest, sir, the protest of the doctor, .of mankind, the protest of a grieving and sickened mankind. And I admit that appearances seem to speak in your favor. I have one main objection, however, to your position: your way does not penetrate the world within, it does not breach the inner realm of the soul, for this image of God consists only of a projec- ,tion from within man himself. Whoever seeks to address the question of suf-fering, however, has to break through to the exterior world, he would have to coordinate his image of God to God's. own reality--and this cannot be accomplished solely with projections from within man's inner world. As a theologian, I would like to advance an argument of my own. "My first argument can be found in the New Testament in I Jn 1:5: '. God is light and in Him is no darkness.' According to the evidence of biblical exegesis, light in this instance signifies ethical perfection. In God, therefore, there is no contact with moral evil. God is light and no darkness exists within him. To project darkness onto the being of God contradicts the clear statement of Holy Scripture. On this issue, Christianity clearly opposes Jung's Answer to Job." Cooperation or Opposition / 191 This position, however, creates a new difficulty for theology, concerning which one cannot remain naive and say that God is good and everything evil springs from somewhere else. Even the. theologian must make God re-sponsible for the evil and wickedness and suffering in the world, for God created a suffering world. Consider only the fears of animals--fears of one another, of earthquakes, floods and epidemics with all their consequent sufferings. God is directly responsible for all of this physical evil. In con-trast to this, however, it is necessary to distinguish moral evil, because of which an excessive amount of pain is engendered in the world and through which the .physical evil present is increased even more--as for example through the agency of war. Although this moral evil stems from man himself,~ God did create man with this inherent possibility and thus he also is responsible, albeit indirectly, for the moral evil in the world. He effects salvation, and creates evil., he leads into temptation! Is God, therefore, evil after all'?." But 1 Jn 1:5 states that "God is light and in Him there is no darkness." A modern mystic, Marie Noel, wrote: "For God, the Sovereign Good, cannot be suspected.TM Christianity has indeed rejected all teachings which defile the image of God. The question thus remains: Since he is responsible for everything, since he effects both redemption and evil, what attitude is one to assume toward such a God? There are three possibilities. The first one is atheism, .the denial of the very existence of God. The second is the way indicated by Jung, the projec-tion namely of both good and evil into the nature of God~ In both of these instances human modes of thought have been made the measure of God. The third possibility is the open question of whether it is not possible that God is responsible for everything, and yet he is only light without any admixture of darkness. This is something enigmatic. Perhaps angther, a supernatuial possibility is open to God? This open question has always been a thorn in the flesh of a thinking Christianity, ,an open wound that will not heals, but one that prevents us from locking ourselves up within the inner chambers of our soul. It spurs us on rather continually to attempt to break through from the immanent to the transcendent. Expressed in simple terms this means that our open question compels us to permit God to be God and not a human being. Karl Barth stated the problem in a very speculative and scientific sounding formula when he said that this was the "ultimate exhaustion of systematic theological speculation." Despite all responsibility for suffering in the world, there is no darkness within God--a dilemma in-capable of solution in human terms. Thus, it is that indeed on ~principle analytical psychology and Christianity differ one from the other. A second argument consists in the fact that, although one might expect Christ to have revealed something about suffering and to have clarified its 1Marie Noel (pseud. for Marie Melanie Rouget), Notes ]or Mysel] (Notes intimes). Tr. by Howard Sutton. Cornell University Press, 1968, p. 33. 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 significance, he did nothifig of the kind. He refused to argue with, the Pharisees'~about it or to offer any explanation whatsoever. His own disciples thought.'within the framework of a correspondence between guilt and punishment, and thus when they asked him in the case of the man who had been born blind who was responsible for his blindness, he himself or his parents (Jn 9:1-2), Christ answered, "None of them." Beyond this he did not go--he, offered no proof. He never spoke of the how or the whence or the wherefore of suffering, nor did he promise in any way that our human condition would ever change. He did, however, proclaim a new Day of the Lord on.which the creator would once again touch the world with his creator-hands ~ind remove all suffering. On that day he will cause all former things to pass away and will "wipe away each tear" (Apoc 21: 4).~This is all a reference to some time in the~future and thus to an act of redemption, hot of healing. Can one really take this promise seriously and yet maintain that .it is but ~a futile and ineffectual consolation against a far distant future, aovain 'promise of better things to come in some far distant time? That would indeed be an .expansion, of consciousness to a far distant and ~future" horizon. This' attitude demands of the Christian first of'all a renunciation, of any°reasoned proof for the necessity of suffering; secondly, a reservation and modesty in judgment before the enigma of the question of suffering,' which ought thus to be treated as a "question of discretion" in relation to God~ and thirdly, it is demanded of the Christian that he sur-render ,himself to suffering. ~ ~ This leads~directly to a third argument, the distinction, namely, be-tween' "evil~''~ and its.,"fuiiction." Evil does remain evil, but it can have a positive function. Pain is terrible, but it can also have a positive function. Suffering ought.,not to be, nor should it be allowed to continue to exist, and yet it too can exert a positive effect. Although the evil ~remains evil, even ~in has positive :consequences. That is the mystery of the felix culpa, The why and the wherefore of evil and wickedness and suffering are connected With God, although we are unable to explain how. But what we can ascer-tain is at least a .part,.a thread of this whole skein of realities, namely 'that the function, of evil','or wickedness or even pain can be positive as well as negative. Let us discuss this matter in somewhat greater detail, An excellent and telling example of this point of view is to be found in Lhe story of, the prodigal son and the banquet given in his honor upon his return home (Lk 15:1-32). His sin remains sin, the evil he committed re-mains' evil, the suffering he caused remains suffering--this is something he did do, something which did hurt his father. Later, however, in conversa-tion with his father during~the celebration banquet, the son begins to under-stand for the' first time"his 'father's maturity, and for the first time the father can rejoice at the reasonableness of his son who at long last has outgrown his ~child!sh naivete~ This certainly does not imply Some form of mysticism of sin, nor is it an appeal to sin, for in no way was it certain that. the son Cooperation or Opposition /d93 would ever find his way home again. He could just as easily have lost his way forever. But for him who returns we rejoice. This positive function of suffering is an experience which analytical' psychology has concretely ascertained and with which it operates; it relies upon it as a medicinal factor in the,process of curing. To this extent the psychotherapist is a specialist in the area of pain, and to an equal degree the pastor of souls should likewise be such an expert in the same area. This is one of the fruits of the theory of integration of the darker elements of man's nature into his conscious personal!ty. The function of wickedness, evil and pain, therefor.e, can be something positive. Analytical psychology will share this experience with Chr!stianity if Christianity will but renounce naive thinking and forego its predominant modes of thought. To this extent these two theo-retical systems can attai~ a mutual understanding. V Christianity, however, knows something more, a something which can-not be discussed in the atmosphere of~a polemic. Let us, therefore, abandon the room where the psychotherapist and theologian sit across from one another and descend a few more stories of our skyscraper. There0w,e will come upon a chapel suffused with the "air of individuation," that is a s, till-ness with a meditative atmosphere, a quietness that radiates a presentiment of transcendence. And let us fu~'ther imagine that at this precise moment a woman is entering the chapel, a woman who has been sl.andered, and against which slander she cannot defend herself. This calumny has hu-miliated her beyond description and its grave con.s~eqences have seriously affected her marriage, her social position--indeed her whole life. The only thing that she can do, this Christian woman, is to let the suffering in her soul rage itself out until she is wholly burnt out within. At this point in her life she now stands squarely be,fore the Pauline e,xperience of kenosis; the function of her suffering is no longer somethi.ng merely psychic, for in her it has also assumed a theological dimension, a theological reality which cannot be clarified by means of some theory. It is rather only through the aid of symbols that one .can hope to lay bar( .what is happening in-the woman's heart, that we can begin to perceive her struggle in the midst of .the burning pains of her humiliation, in the fluctuating rise and fall of her emotions, in her cries for succor; in the absence of any answer to her grief. All of this is veiled within symbols, and yet at the same time re-vealed by them: Buddha smiles--Christ weeps. Buddha sits--Christ treads the way of the cross Buddha seeks to destroy the ability to suffer--Christ, however, assumes the burden of,the cross Buddha remains silent--Christ cries out upon the cross 194 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Buddha dissolves his being into the great Nirvana--Christ however, is awakened from the dead Buddha detached all disciples from himself--Christ will draw all men to himself (Jn 12:32). It is a function of suffering:that, by wholly emptying itself, it fights its way through to ultimate humiliation and degradation until everything within it is consumed and dissolved. But then there follows an ascent, a rebirth. The woman leaves the chapel and her bitterness of heart may well have been transformed into a compassion for every living creature. She does not know how this happened, or why, but she experiences it nonetheless, the experience of a transformation. She is not necessarily comforted--for in her soul something was indeed consumed by flames--but she is strength-ened. As Paul Claudel once wrote: "God does not comfort, but he does strengthen." This truth of Christian experience still exceeds what analytical psychology can effect. VI So as not to abandon the basis of sober fact, let us descend yet another story where we enter a dentist's office. He is just about to begin drilling a patient's tobth. Let us also imagine that for some reason or other he was unable to anesthetize the patient's mouth before drilling. He thus demands of his patient the' a.cceptance of the pain to follow, a searing agony likened only to some invention of the devil. This is in a way a tragicomical situation to be enacted in a dentist's chair and one in which there are no heroes. The situation, however, has the advantage of being able to prepare the pain cleanly and in every detail, pain in the purest form, as it were. At this juncture, all of our theories collapse like houses built of cards. When the whole scene is over, we experience a most remarkable sensation, as if some-how something foreign had touched us, as if in a way we were standing on the border of a new dimension of reality. And we are also perhaps thank-ful that the pain, though not our own, has ceased. From where did the man derive the courage to endure such suffering, and to do so in silence? And what transpired in us during the operation? Theoretically we are indeed unable to imagine this, but in the form of a dream it can be done. VII Now let us descend to the lowest sub-basement, where the foundations of both our imagined skyscraper and our psyche are anchored. In a dream series one dream is repeated again and again: a cave in a forest and flight from the cave. In the next dream, however, the following occurs: This time, in spite of great fear, I entered the cave. Suddenly I had to stop because I had come upon the edge of an abyss or chasm. It was horrible just to gaze into it and I could not bring myself to do so. Finally, however, I did look down and then I experienced a moment of terrifying fear, a moment Cooperation or Opposition / 195 of hatred and desperation. Everything within me was thrown into disorder and as I stood there looking down, the chasm suddenly was not there any more. A stream of clear and flowing water had assumed its place, At this point, two questions arise: First, what really is happening in the dream? Abyss, fear, hatred, desperation--is that what dying is like? Some-thing in the dreaming person had to die. "Everything within me was thrown into disorder," he said. The stages of this transformation are clear: the sur-rendering of one form of life by gazing down into the abyss--the descent into a chaos which is simultaneously a creative chaos. Suddenly--and one is not certain how or why, since this is decidedly not an intellectual process which can be initiated or manipulated--an ascent, a rebirth is symbolized by a stream of clear flowing water, the water of life, the sign of a new life. Is the mystery of suffering ultimately the same as the mystery of kenosis: dying, chaos, new life? A sense of awed modesty in the face of such an occurrence cannot fail but to seize those who have ever been permitted to witness such .an event, be it as psychotherapist or pastor of souls or simply as a fellow .human being. A second question here 'forc6s its way to the fore: whence did the pa-tient derive the courage finally to stare down into the abyss, to confront his suffering? ~The intensification of his personal crisis, the increasing pressure of his suffering are without a doubt contributing factors. Certain energetic dynamics of his psyche must also have urged him forward. Just as as-suredly, however, this ~was also a question of inner stature and for this very reason such courage cannot be demanded of those with lesser internal forti-tude. An equal role, however, must be attributed to the effect of the ther-apist whose consciousness influenced, in an intellectual manner, the con-sciousness bf the patient; in like manner, too, his unconscious influenced the patient's unconscious. (This non-verbal communication can go so far that the patient's dreams and those of the psychot.herapist's are actually identical, a fact attested by recent research in this area.'-') The 'transformation must also have been effected by the fact that the third psychic instance in the psychotherapist--one might call it the "self" or even the "person"--in-fluences the nucleus of the patient's own person. That is the non-verbal, cura-tive gift which can effect courage, the courage tO gaze down into the abyss and to accept this suffering and thisdying. It is also an invitation to a further penetration and absorption into one's inner sel~. This is a process which cannot be manipulated; and whether the patient is willing to cooperate in the process, whether he or she.participates wholeheartedly and with under-standing, can only be the result of a composite of pressure from suffering, inner fortitude and freedom, free choice. At this point psychotherapy is no longer merely a form of mechanics, but has become rather a communica, tion between therapist and patient, an exchange worthy of a human being. zH. Dieckmann, "Der Traum und das Selbst im Menschen," in Analytische Psycho- ~ Iogie, V (1974), 1-16, esp. pp. 11-12. 196 / Review for Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/2 The pastor of souls also exerts an influence on the faithful, consciously in conversation with them, subconsciously when he suffers with them, as St. Paul said: "Weep with those who weep." But over and above this, the nucleus of his person influences that of the other, and if faith dwells there and~ inothis faithS,~ the pneuma, the blowing of the Holy Spirit, then here we encou~nter a new, a pneumatic dimension which is not to be found in depth psychology. In-this instance Christianity goes beyond analytical psychology. If the .Christian participateg in this movement, his participation is also the result of a con~posite; a composite of the pressure from suffering, inner forti-tude, freedomS,and faith. It can indeed be maintained that, with respect to thei'r efficacy fbrothose who suffer, analytical psychology and Christianity do share much~ ih .common; Christianity, however, exceeds their common bond, it goes :a,step beyond it~ VIII Let us now leave the cellar and mount upward again. After such a "jour-ney of the soul" one ought to recover one's equilibrium over a .glass of wine, or~better yet by participating in a' symposium. A portion of Plato's Sym-posium thus geems fitting here: the participants have spent the 'night in di;inking and revelry and have fallen asleep, including Aristodemos, 'the commentator of the final scene. On th6 following morning, as the cock be-gins to crow,~.he awakens and sees that onlythree others are also awake-- Socrates and two of his drinking compahions. They have filled a huge bowl with wine and in' honor of the gods of morning, they pass it around from one to the other, each one sha~ing it with his neighbor on the right. Socrates is trying to explain to his companions that a truly gifted writer of tragedies must at:,the same time also be a writer of comedies. This is that famous Socratic irony that reappears again and again and which Guardini interprets thusly.' "The thinking man realizes that realities exist which exceed his ability to formulate.''':~ ~ Human, words cann~3t encompass the truth, and one should be able to laugh at this, just as Socrates and his companions did. Having now taken a soul-jc~urney through the great question of suffering, weighed terrifying questioris and looked into the depths of various chasms, the ultimate re-mains to be said: we have no answers. We. have nonetheless experienced something about the efficacy of suffering. This can annoy us; yet on the Other hand we can laugh at it as well. To us as Christians the latter is be-fitting. In conclusion we might well cite Harvey Cox who, in a diagnosis of the religious attitude of our present age, made a statement that is in essence aparaphrase of this very Socratic irony: "Comic hope is the mood of Our embryonic religibus sensibility today.'"' :~Romano Guardini, Stationen und Ruckblicke. Wurzburg, 1965, p. 49. ¯ 'Harvey Cox, The Feast of Fools. A Theological Essay on Festivity and Fantasy: Harvard University Press, 1969, p. 156. A Movement Toward Hope: Christian Fraternity of the Sick Pdtricia Loivery, M.M, Sigt~r ~Pdtri~:ia has, ~f late, become a frequent contributor to these pages. Twenty-five years i~ ~P~r6, she resides at the~conveht o[ Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; A~requi~a; Perti." ~ - ,~ Ond~of the most moving experiences of~Christian .community in which I have shared took place in a house dedicated to "Our Izady. of Happiness." The o~casiian was the "VI National Assembly 6f the Christian Fra~ternity, of the Sick." At this week-long meeting 53 delegates from 14 dioi:eses in Per(= gathered tb. review the past work of the fraternity and set new goals for the,ftiture. The~tffeme of the meeting was: "A New Man for a New Society." The model of that ne~v nian, of'course, ~was th~ Risen ChriSt, but~ Iosaw be-foreome~ men= and women' Who were veiy much in the process of becoming "new;' thdmselve'~. The majority of the delegates were young (20-_30), °most were severely handicapped and all were utterly ingpiring.=;Being with v~aliant handicapped people was, not a new experience for me, but somehbw the un2selfconscibus~ happy and dedicated way they approached the work at hand ,was asterling exampleoof what the,'fraternity is all about: These people, 'having passed through~theirodarkest moments of suffering with the help of others, were now ready and eager' to share the vision of their, new life and the source of their happiness. Each had0his, particular story but ho one was~much con-cerned about dwelling on it, and certainly, there was no trace of self-pity or need for sympathy. The atmosphere was one of normal, happy, enthu-siastic people .facing .a challenging .task; the complete acceptance of one another promoted full and active participation on.the part~ of all. ~ Our long,day began in the chape!~where our best sharing and dialogue 197 1911 / Review for Religious, ,Volume 36, 1977/2 took place. The hours sped by as we attended meetings, did household chores (dish washing was a fun time!), relaxed, sang, introduced the whole group to particular areas of the country through slides, typical dances and stories, attended uplifting liturgies, and offered a helping hand (or foot) to anyone in need of it. There are numerous examples that could be cited to make one marvel at what handicapped people can do, but I prefer simply to' state the fact that there is nothing they cannot do, especially when gathered together in a house of "happiness." In this article, I would like to give some specific information about the Christian Fraternity of the Sick--its history, spirit, structure, concerns and hopes for the future. History In 1942, in the City of Verdfin, France, a young woman named Mar-garita Renaud was in the hospital. At the same time, the chaplain, P~re Franqois (now Auxiliary Bishop of Verdfin) became a patient. During his time of recuperation, and having learned from his own experience of suf-fering, he began to see the patients in a new light and treat them with new interest. One day he suggested to Margarita that she write to several other sick in the city, inviting them to visit the hospital; three of them responded to the invitation. Two weeks later, five came t6 visit Margarita and P~re Franqois and all committed themselves to visit other sick in their homes. From then on, they met every two weeks to discuss their visits and to share their insights. Pi~re Franqois led them tO a deeper understanding of Scripture and of Christian community. Thus began the Fraternity of the Sick--a movement of the sick for the sick. ~, ¯ Two years later, thirty-fivemembers, some on stretchers and. in wheel2 chairs, made a pilgrimage to the shrine of the Virgin in Benoite-Vaux, and there they celebrated the '~'birthday" of the fraternity. Little by little, it spread to almost all the dioceses of France, ,to Switzerland, Belgium, Ger-many, Africa, Canada and Spain. From Spain it was brought to Mexico and to the countries of Central and South America. On March 1,. 1967 the seed was planted in Perti by a~dynamic Jesuit, Padre Manuel Duato. His own personal experience of physical pain coupled with a joyous, bouyant spirit won him many followers among0the sick and handicapped in Peril. They nicknamed him: "Padre Quitapenas"--the priest who takes the pain away. His friends grieved deeply when. he died of can-cer in December of 1973. His memory is perpetuated in his lasting gift to them: a new way of life--the way of hope, courage and joy. " The spirit of the fraternity is both realistic and idealistic. The realism is the acknowledgment that we are limited, weak, sick. We are not afraid of the word "sick," but we do protest the commonly used word "invalid" A Movement Toward Hope / 199 because it connotes ~the idea of worthlessness, uselessness and complete in-activity. The fraternity challenges the indifference of modern society toward the physically limited or weak person. We do not hesitate to acknowledge weakness because, by experiencing it, we have become more truly ourselves with a deeper capacity to contemplate the existence of God and the mystery of life. But, like other minority groups, we feel the need to fight for the recognition of ourselves as full persons with corresponding rights and duties. We recognize and accept our infirmity for what it is--an evil, but not of our own making nor a punishment from God. Jesus said of the man born blind: "I~ was not that this man sinned, or hi's parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him" (Jn 9:3). We.do not pretend to know the answer to the mystery of, evil~ but we do have a. realistic response to it. We intend to accomplish what Christ has given us the power to do; overcome it. The idealism of the fraternity can also become a reality because it is :solidly based on evangelical charity and fraternity. Even on a purely human level we recognize that brotherhood involves understanding, interchange, giving and receiving, interdependence. But for us, this human fraternity has been transformed by Christ who, having made himself our brother, calls us to be brothers of one .another and sons of the Father. This Christian family .is one. in which .the smallest, weakest, poorest are the most beloved. In the movement's Charter, five of the seven fundamental principles deal with ~spirit"; the other two explain the structure. Padre Quitapenas literally "took the pain away" when he emphasized: "Maximum Spirit-- Minimum Organization!" ,. Charter Point l: Evangelical Charity Charity as practiced in the fraternity strives to' imitate the qualities of Christ~s~own love. It is universal'becauseit is not limited to a certain ~class of people; it is for all without boundaries, It' is disinterested: Jesus loved us first and was faithful until death. We go out to our brothers without fear of being rejected or misunderstood, not expecting praise or gratitude. It is respect[M: Christ never imposes, always invites. We try to awakefi the other to his own worth and dignity, calling him forth with patience and perseverance. In this prOcess, we come to recognize his true value, and often receive more than we are able to give: Lastly, it is total. As ~'Christians we strive to give the best of ourselves in total dedication;' even to being Willing to give our lives for the other. Christ lived that kind of fraternity~ This point might bring the response: "That's too mu~h to ask!" But it would not be an ideal if it did not ask so much. Striving for such an. ideal causes us to give more than we thought we could. Perhaps more than others, the sick need this kind of presence rather than ideas and words, however beautiful, to keep l~hem from isolation and despair. Where there is solidarity ~200 / Review Ior Religious, Volume ,3,6, 1977/2 there is h6pe., It is a~ if,Christ' said:~"Organize yourselves as,brothers,, treat each other.as such, and obstacles will disappear,,barriers fall and prejiadices 'overcome." So it is that love and understanding which leadSto deep and harmonious relationships are the very soul of the fraternity. ,, Point I1: Dedicated to, All the Sick Without Distinction . ¯ . Because of its nature, the Christian Eraternity embraces all .who are -sick without ~ discrimination of culture, social, status, religion., age, sex or type of infirmity. The fraternity is open to all because each one-is a person ~who needs community. Children, youth, adults and the aged are all welcome ~ in,~the fraternity,,but it is to the young adult that the fraternityr.looks for the :vitality and dynamism needed to carry on its work. Because of-their critical awareness and disillusionmentwith, present conditions, they are willing to take responsibility and work toward change. As one totally paralyzed youth said at. our assembly: "We want a revolution~a revolution of love!" Although the fraterni.ty is a lay,~apostolic movement, in the Catholic Church, it welcomes those of other~faiths, Christian and non-Christian. We -do not come together to discuss,our_differences, .but rather to unite~.our efforts to,build a better worldqn which each person becomes whole. It*should be noted, however, that in forming a fraternity~.'it,i~ important that its. leaders be deeply convinced of the gospel 'message; otherwise, they ¯ could not transmit it to others, o. The fraternity is .not an association or pious confraternity which a. per-son j6ins by signing up.'Rather, the individual ~is meant to 15articipate; ac-cording to his ability, in the responsibilities and activities of the movement, to feel part of the movement. To participate is to live fraternity. This in no way eliminates certain sick people, for example, bed-ridden patients,¯ be-cause the first responsibility of a member of the fraternity.~is,concern for other sick people. This concern can be expressed in many different ways, an important one being our openness to friendship. It is not uncommon that ,a meeting ~or activity is held by a group gathered, around the bed or wheel-chair of a person who cannot'be moved. : ~oint_ I11:, UniIying Contacts The fraternity promotes a. spirit of unity, both personal and communi- ~tarian, among the sick and with the well who wish ~to participate in the movement by offering their friendship and service to the sick. ,.,~. The concept of Christian friendship underlies° all our contacts. Much could be said about the beauty and value of .friendship and the great gift it can be for one,who feels isolated and alone. Suffice,it to say-that the concept of friendship which we try to live consists in: --concern for the good of the other , Sacrificing oneself for the good of the othe]" ~ committing oneself to action for the other. ~ ' ' A Movement Toward Hope / 201 The beginning of'friendship is person-contact; often this contact is made through visits to the sick in their homes or in the hospital. We feel that these Visits should be characterized by attention, respect, esteem and~itedication. The person being visited is unique, therefore deserves undiv, ided attention and sincere interest. We offer it willingly, showing by our attitude that we are more interested in listening to him than in watching the~clock or talking about ourselves. We respect his personal freedom to share or withhold his confidences and friendship. Discretion teaches that we not press our own religio,us:beliefs on him; without speaking of God, his presence can be felt, Through genuine esteem~ we will come to see the personal worth and true value of the person, and will begin to learn what he has to teach us. In giving the best of ourselves to the other, he will gradually know that we have come to help him carry his burden, to make his sufferings our own. Bi~sides promiSing to visit him again, we invite him to our group encounters when he is able to come. The regular fraternity meeting (once a month on diocesan level and oftener, .if desired, on parish level) is a unique opportunity to promote the sick person and to form leaders. A meeting that does not foment the active participation of the sick is a failure and cannot :be called~a meeting of the fraternity. We are not interested in a faultlessly ordered meeting or in num-bers, but rather that those present come of.their own choice and participate actively, .and that the atmosphere be one of warmth which encourages all to enter into dialogue and decision making. Thus the sick person learns the .value of working in a group in which his own opinion and that of others is respected. The meeting consists of reflection: on a gospel passage, b.usiness and usually some socializing. ' Other encounters vary according to the initiative of the group. Some of the more common ones are: workshops, retreat, days, general meetings | (which include all zones, or two. or more zones planning an activity to-gether), liturgies and the Sacrament. of the Sick, picnics, parties, etc. All encounters have as their objective to bring ~the sick together to experience friendship, personal growth and each one's ability to take responsibility for himself and others. Our-friends, the Collaboraiors, are well people who value the ideals of the fraternity, seek to understand the sick person through friendship and offer their services as an expression~of that friendship. We value our relation-ships ~vith ,the well.We need each other and each has something to offer the other. The collaborator learns (through experience as well as in planned workshops) how to be comforiable with the sick, when to assist and when to encourage independence. He or she learns to be present in such' a way as to fill a need unobtrusively. The collaborator may take an active part in fraternity meetings, etc., but should always be aware that leadership in the fraternity belongs to the sick. The support, encouragement and patience of the well often open the way for the less secure handicapped person to come 202 / Review for Religious, :Volume 36, 1977/2 into his own. Specifically, the well may have some talent, learning or tech-nique which can be shared to help the handicapped advance in a particular area~ Other collaborators offer mobility which facilitates the sick person's participation ~.in meetings, activities, etc. These friends, are appropriately called: "Flying Angels"! The sick, in relating to collaborators, grow in appreciation of the ser-vices they receive, and learn to accept help graciously without negating their need or becoming demanding in their requests. As they become friends of the well they soon realize that these, too, car~y the tieavy burden of suffer-ing~ although not a physical one. Often the well person needs to express his own uncertainties, worries, problems, hopes and fears, and finds in his sick companion, a willing listener and grateful friend. The fact that in the fraternity there exists this happy union of the sick and the well proves that, where hearts are open and loving, limitations and differences disappear. Point IV: Integral Development of the Sick Person One of the main objectives of the fraternity is the integral development of the whole person of the sick and physically limited, In Jesus' healing ministry, he always healed the whole person, never dividing him into parts. Just as he was capable of forgiving sins, so could he command the person to stand up and walk (Lk 5: 17-26). The vision of the whole person includes the moral, psychological, spiri-tual, affective, social and physical aspects. Moral and~ psychological re-cuperation often engenders physical rehabilitation, just as the development of the social and religious dimension uplifts the person morally and physi-cally. One compliments the other and all are necessary to facilitate growth. Many examples could be given to show how the inter-action of these vari- "ous aspects have contributed to healing in the person, and the part that a group such as the fraternity plays, As one doctor said: "The fraternity mobilizes a considerable amount of energy in the form of group therapy. which is a powerful help toward complete healing. It is not that an ampu-tated leg will be returned, but that, in spite of everything, the man can be complete, minus one leg?' ¯ Another important break-through comes for the sick person when he realizes that God loves him and accompanys him in his suffering. This in-sight is often ,given him through the human love of others; It .helps him to face the future with more hope and Christian optimism. Point V: Integration Into Society and Active Collaboration in Its Trans- [ormation Another'important objective of the Fraternity is to help its members become fully integrated into society so that they might contribute actively toward transforming it. A Movement Toward Hope / 203 -You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven (Mt5:14-16). Christ invites his disciples to act without fear in the presence of the world so that others, seeing their good works, will know of the power of God within them. As the sick and handicapped grow toward wholeness, they face the dif-ficult task of integrating themselves into their environment: the family, so-ciety, the Church. The fraternity is a movement that discovers the sick, pro-motes them and then returns them (without ever having isolated them) to their community ready and capable of making their contribution. It teaches them to be critically aware of conditions imposed upon them; to see, to judge and to act with Christian vision. False ideas about illness perpetuated by the family can cause the sick one to become a non-person. Families are inclined to two extremes in the problem of handicapped members: over-protection (paternalism) which causes the individual to lose his personality and become the "eternal child"; or, through ignorance and disinterest (abandonment) he is made to feel that .he is an inconvenient burden altering the life of the family. In either case, the sick person may lose interest in everything, including his own personal growth, becoming apathetic and selfish. Society, for its part, would prefer to deny the existence of the handi-capped'person. It sets up protective institutions~which gradually de-person-alize the individual and make him incapable of participating in the rights and duties of an ordinary citizen. In this, the sick person must judge so-ciety and challenge its prejudices, He can,prove that the true value of the person lies, not in physical beauty and material productivity, but in the gift of spirit and life. The fraternity urges the sick and handicappdd to develop their potential and prepare themselves through study, mastering a trade or developing a compensatory faculty, to live an independent life. In many cases, the handi-capped person may be more efficient in some particular area or job than some. well people, but he usually is considered eliminated even from ap-plying.' It is not a question of the sick trying to compete with the well, but of being recognized as persons and given equal opportunities. Many sick and handicapped people may never be able to join the hus-tle and bustle of our work-a-day world, but by their steadfast patience, clarity of thought; ability to listen and look for solutions, and by sharing their deep peace and joy, they can silently transform into light the darkness of our world. The Church, too, must take a new interest in developing and utilizing the spiritual potential of its handicapped members. It is not enough to as-sign them to a life of prayer, precious as that is in itself. Values, sorely 204 / Review for Religious, ~.olume 36, 1977/2 needed in our world today, can be highlighted by the presence of the sick in the Christian community. Reflection on the Paschal'Myst6ry, hope in suffering, spirit-strength in weakness, the value of life over all things, the lesson of obedience, victory over evil, the attainment of happiness and wis- ,dom, the privilege of carrying one another's burden are but a few things the sick have to say to the Christian community. Point 1/1: Team Leadership ~ The fraternify is vitalized by teams of responsible sick and handicapped people. The value of working in~teams is well known by all who have ex-perienced such group effort. Foe the sick person 'the support of a, team is doubly important. Through it, he learns the value of and need for unity, dialogue, sincerity, friendship, vision, and solidarity in action. He discovers that he is important, but not indispensable; he knows that what he lacks another has;' and he learns, through practice, to develop ,his leadership qualities and help others,to develop theirs. Teams of responsible' sick and handicapped people are formed'at the parochial, diocesan, regional and national levels~ These~ in turn, are re-sponsible to an International Team. The teams in their distinctive environ-ment promote, orientate, coordinate and vitalize,' both in depth and geo-graphic extensi6n,!~ the fraternity. A team iscomposed of at least five members: the responsible person, the assistant, the spiritual advisor, a secretary and a treasurer. In order to give as many of the sick as possible the experien6e of leadership, the teams are renewed every two yearsoby election. Most of the sick cannot dedicate full time to the work of the fraternity, but carry out their apostolate over and above their ordinary.duties: In order to begin a Fraternity, a group should have the approval of the local bishop,~ work together,for at least one year and then seek .affiliation through the National Fraternity at a General Assembly. Such7 a fraternity is being established in the United States by a Marianist brother who. previ-ously worked in Peril.1 ~, The teams.,are responsible for planning meetings and other activities, but, more importantly, for. preserving, the spirit of the f~raternity. There are many pitfalls into which the fraternity could fall. Some would make. ofit an enterprise for solving labor problems, a social service,~agency for material assistance, a recreational center where the sick distract themselves or a .confraternity of prayer. It is none of these even though,some aspects of each are. present. Those who. come to the fraternity looking only for personal ,or material gain usually leave disappointed. Many others catch the spark of the true meaning of "fraternity" and are richly rewarded. The fact that the responsible positions in the fraternity are assumed 1Brother' James L. McC~.ffrey, S:M': Cehtral Catholic High School 1403 N. StY' Mar~'s Street; San .Antonio, TX 78215. A Movement Toward Hope / 205 by the sick themselves stamps the :movement as a liberating one. Who better than the sick can 'understand the sick and plan for them? How better can they face their own reality, promote themselves and prepare for taking their ¯ .place in ~.society: , ~. Point VII: The Role of the Minister The Fraternity receives its vital Christian orientation especially from the religious minister,., who is usually a.priest~ but could also be a brother or sister. This person is known in the fraternity as the Assessor. Although the assessor is a member of the governing team, he contributes more by his discreet presence and unifying word than: by his organizational ability~ He is meant to be a. brother to his co~workers, and a friend a.mong 'friends. Often it is his supportive presence that enc.ourages the lay person to fissume his responsibilities; skillfully, he can. draw,.out the more timid ones to express themselves and help them make' their own decisions. His principle task is to direct the team and all members of the fraternity toward a deeper~ understanding of the Christian spirit; and lead them. to seek solutions t6 their,problems in the light.of, the gospel: 'By his own life witness', his word, and sensitive ~attitude, he gives spiritual vitality to the movement a'nd sets the sick on the road to discovery of their own spiritual depth Since the fraternity welcomes one and all, many enter it with little .spiri- ;tual formation; therefore, it' is primarily the religious minister who should be cohScious of their spiritual development: Through talks, worksh.ops, re-treat days and personal contact, he can begin the process of spiritual forma-tion that has so much meaning in the sick person's life. ~, The assessor is appointed by the bishop and is the fraternity:s direct link with the. Church, He seeks to work :with parish priests,, hospital chap-lains and others interested in ministry to ,the sick .in order-to transmit the spirit of the fraternity and develop a pastoral plan for the sick. He l(eeps the fraternity in touch with other lay apostolic movements for mutual en-richment. He is also in a position to heighten awareness in the hierarchy of the needs, iproblems, aspirations anti'activitieS; of the sick in the difcese. More than any of these, aspects, though, it .is his simple presence, his [attitude of service and his inspiring word that makes the assessor a key fig, ure in the fraternity. " ~ Aclivilies . ,~ ¯, Here' I would like to mention a few of the activities.our fraternity groUp in Arequipa (Perti) has undertaken. Through them,'we have tried to reach out;to others in love, and have become fuller, happier people because of it. 1) AnnualFraternity ,Encounter To mark our anniversary each year; we in-vite all the sick and handicapped of~the city to an all-day celebration on the last Sunday of April. It is a gala affair beginning with the arrival of some 300 people ranging from children~ to old folks, many in ,wheelchairs, on 206 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 crutches or aided by a friend. A well-participated concelebrated Mass opens the program. This year, 'for the first time, two of our members were married at~ this Mass. After the Eucharist and formal words of welcome our dedi-cated collaborators serve a well prepared lunch. The afternoon is filled with music, fun and games. The hidden talent of the handicapped is discovered as the blind sing, the old amputee dances with the aid of his crutch, chil-dren recite poems and tell jokes, young people play musical instruments and lead group singing. A special feature of the festivities this year was a soccer game played by young men and women in wheelchairs. Each was given a straw broom and the. action began. We might have been in the stadium watching professionals, so exciting was the game! 2) Reflection Recently seventy-five members of the fraternity gathered for a reflection, day during which we had a. group dynamic which helped us to count our blessings. Each person received a letter from an imaginary friend --"Joe?' In small groups we discussed the letter, and then in a general ses-sion formulated the answer. Unfortunately, "Joe" had been in an accident which left him partially paralyzed and in a wheelchair. According to Joe he had no friends now except the happy, active handicapped person to whom he was writing. (Joe wondered how his friend could :be so happy, anyway!) As for himself, everyone had deserted him and, although his family was nice enough, he knew they were just putting up with him. He was never going to walk again so he might as well be resigned to doing nothing the rest of his life. Joe did sincerely try to think about God but he couldn't understand why, if God were really his Father, he could punish him this way, especially since he didn't deserve it. The priest was always coming around telling him that suf-fering has meaning, but that went in one ear and out the other. Joe pre-tended to listen because, after all, he "couldn't offend the guy." What .he really wanted was to~ hear from his friend who had gone through the same thing and could sympathize with him. In answering "Joe's" letter, his friend reassured him of his friendship and understanding, but urged Joe to open his eyes and see the brighter side of life. Self~pity was blinding him! How could he expect people to come to him all the time? Why didn't he go visit somebody else and make some friends? There are a lot of people worse off than himself right in his own neighbor-hood. He could go around and see if he could help them in some way; or, at least, he could get to know them and talk things over. Joe would find that if he tried to make somebody else happy, he would be happier himself. Next, Joe ought to think about job possibilities. True enough, he couldn't walk but he still had his hands and his head. There are plenty of things he could do with those, but if he didn't put forth a little effort, he'd. never discover what they were. If he feels .useless, he has only~himself to blame. It is too bad Joe can't see any meaning in suffering; his friend sure can! Why, it~ makes a person feel so much closer to other people who are going A Movement Toward Hope through the same thing (without complaining); after all, everybody has something to suffer. It's a,nice feeling to be a real brother to somebody. Joe should know that God isn't going to try him beyond his strength. He is giving Joe the opportunity to stop and think about life and become a bet-ter person if he wants to. Joe ought to remember that God's own Son had to suffer, and by suffering, save the world. Now he's giving Joe a chance t6 do something for the world, too. Sooner or later, Joe will find out that his accident, instead of being a punishment, is a blessing in disguise. About the priest, Joe should'realize that if Father keeps' coming back to see him, it means he wants to be his friend, and he should appreciate that. If Joe really tried to listen, he would learn something. One thing for sure, if Joe doesn't get hold of himself, he'll soon find out that the greatest suffering in life is selfishness. Poor Joe! 3) Radio Programs For many shut-ins and sick people of the city, two weekly radio programs called Fraternity are a source of education and in-spiration. 'The programs consist of background material about the fraternity, letters and testimonies of the sick, information about rehabilitation or spe-cial courses being offered, a spiritual message, and news of,activities, meet-ings, and so forth that are being planned, The unique part of the programs is that they are planned and executed entirely by the sick and handicapped. One of~ the participants is Reyna, a blind girl, who reads her script in braille. To the unknowing listener, Reyna sounds like anyone else, but to her proud friends she is someone special. 4) A Christmqs Project Christmas is a special time for expressing fraternity. Each parish or zone usually has a party which many of the sick attend. Last year, in planning ours, we realized that the house-bound sick, who need the partY ,.most, would not. be able to come. So we decided to take the party to them. Settling on ten people, ~e planned a one-hour visit with each, giving them the choice of the. day and an afternoon hour during the week before Christmas. We packed a party box and wrapped a gift for each visit. The gifts were chosen according to each one's need or specigl interest. The very poor received a basket of food; to old Don Lucho, whose life revolved around the Sacred Heart, went a statue of the Sacred Heart. The party goers were usually four; two handicapped people, one collaborator and the pastor. To begin our visit, we set up a small crib, sang carols, reflected on the Mystery, shared what Christmas meant to us and prayed for Christmas blessings. Then we chatted and had the party with the growing number of family members who gathered as interest grew. Before leaving, we presented our gift. Don Lucho was in ecstasy; no other gift could have mean so much to him. He died two months later gently embracing his Sacred Heart statue. Observations It may not be practical or even possible to apply all that has been pre-sented here in a given situation, or to belong formally to the Fraternity of 2011 / Review ]or Religious, Volfime 36, 1977/2 the Sick. However, I feel that Christian fraiernity is as varied as creative Christians are numerous. Therefor(, the following suggestions may serv6 hs a spring-board for those who owish~ to direct their ministry to the sick in a "spirit of fraternity:" --Approach the sick as "real7 people who hav'e the same needs, aspirations, hopes, desires,, joys and sorrows as others. Respect and love them for what they are and what they can become. --Raise the consciousness level among the sick by helping them to see, judge and act in order to change their own attitudes and eventually transform their ambience. Bring the sick together so that they might become friends.~ In friendship they will learn to appreciate themselves and one an-other more, and, in solidarity, make their contribution to the commtinity. --Reflect and pray with the sick so that they may grow in knowl-edge of the ways of God, and come to understand their mission. (Isaiah speaks beat~tifully of.,God's love for his suffering servant, the mission to which he is called and the reward that will be his.) Share your ministry with the sick; provide opportunities for them to minister to other sick; encourage them to go beyond them-selves, reaching out to others with the sure kn.owledge that the weaker they are the more powder t~hey have to raise their brothers. qsaiah's prophecy, read by Jesus in the synagogue,,is often used to de-scribe the official minister's, role in the Church. I believe that it also ap-plies to those other "servants" who have been tried and corfie forth as gold (Jb 23: 10). They, too, have been commissioned to bring the good ne,~,s to the most isolated and forgotten, the world of the sick. Together with it, ttiey can now carry their own spirit of hope. "The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me; He has sent me to announce good news to the poor, To proclaim release for prisoners and recovery of the sight for the blind; To set at liberty those w~.ho are oppressed. To proclaim the year of the Lord's favour." And he said to them: "This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen." (Lk 4: 18-19; 21)' An Obstacle to Community Waiter J. Handren, S.J. l~ather Handren is now retired. He resides at Loyola Center; 54th & Ci_ty Ave.; Phil-adelphia, PA 19131. Deafness is an illness. If is a malfunction of one of the'~iaarts of the body. it is a depri~/ation, an abnormality, something which can distort other parts of' the human makeup in the person's efforts to compensate for his lack of hearing. As with all other things which affect humankind, deafness has both its physical effects and its social'effects, and, consequ6ntly, its psychological, mental and spiritual repercussions. It causes not only lack of hearing and corisequent isolation, but also bouts° of temper, ignorarlce 6f much of what is happening in the world and tlespondency. It is usual, I believe, when speaking of this affliction, to refer to "deaf-ness" as the total loss of hearing; any "partial loss is called "hard of hear-ing." In this article, for thesake of brevity, I stiall use the word "deafness" only, making distinctions whenever it becomes necessary to explain the na-ture of the case in question. ' "I suppose that I, just iis all other human beings, would be oblivious of the condition of the deaf had I' not suddenly become deaf, that is, become ¯ extremely hard Of hearing,~ at-~ge 65, just at the time that I was retired from a life-long job of.teaching. Having attained the status of "emeritus," I had plenty of time to observe"c~refully all the effects of~a seventy-five percent loss of hearing, to think many long and,seriou~ thoughts, and to come:up with some ideas about it. It is the result of these meditations which I am offering for~your consideration. When'a person suddenly goes deaf late in life there is an added frustra-tion put upon him which, perhaps, may not bother so much thosewho have suffered from a hearing-~defect over many years. All life long he~ has been accustomed to hearing. His reactions those swift, spontaneous responses 209 210 / Review 1or Religious, l/olume 3~,~ 19~77/2 ~ to sound which all normal hearers have, but few notice--have been attuned to hearing properly, and responding promptly. Then, of a sudden,~there is badly impaired hearing, and the quick, eager reaction is checked in mid-air, as it were; because suddenly there is nothing to respond to, and one is caught at a loss. One wants to hear; the strong, immediate drive of one's whole being is to hear and answer, but there is now no hearing, or, at least, not enough to make sense. Even with a l~earing aid this is true for those ~,ith badly impaired hearing. For this frustration to keep recurring day after day is wearing on the nerves and can cause other psychic phenomena such as (apparently) unmotivated testiness, snappishness, or else gloom and brooding. Of course, the religious, trained as he is in the spiritual life, has enough sense to fight against these moods, but they are there, and their tantalizing presence is wearing. The deaf person can no longer enjoy music. If he has been a music lover this becomes a great sacrifice. A person with normal hearing has no proper concept of what it is like to listen to a beautiful piece of music, one which has been loved in times past, and to hear nothing but cacophony: some notes coming through piercingly and others not being heard at all. The result is just noise. Your friends ~annot really understand that. Sym-pathetic or not, they have no idea of your plight; so you avoid music. Nor can the newly deaf any longer enjoy the theater. O~ what use is it to sit,in the dark for two or three hours and watq.h people move about the stage?. In order to know what it is all about you have to read the play after~ wards--if,,you can find a copy. The same holds true for, lectur.es.and at-tendance at large meetings. Most lecturers seem .to speak confidentially to the first row, even though they have a mike before them, and as for qu~es-tions from the floor, there is a dead silence in the hearing aid, as though the' .questioners were afraid of the sound of their own voices. But, ~after all, who are the deaf? About 5:3% of those over 65. use hearin.g aids, and only 0.4% of those under 65. This is a very small seg-ment of the population. Is it really worth a great deal of trouble and ex-pense to try to help such a small group? ~- Even~in conversation a hearing aid is not much good beyond six, feet or so: When~,there is a general conversation with many taking, part, the babel of all those ,voices confuses the hearing aid and iams the receptio.n. This is something else people find it hard to believe. Here they are .shouting at you, from a distance of a few feet and yo.u. refuse to. hear and undeLstand! But all the time the~background noises and the echoes of their well-meant shouts are blocking all possibility of communication. And so the deaf stay away from as many social~g.ath~rings as they can. . Now,~.why all this? After all, the deaf hav.e these~ very expensive~,elec7 tronic gadgets intheir ears, why ca~n't~hey hear as,well as any ~o~ther person? When I was buying my hearing aid the ~technician said~to m~: '~Father, remember this is an aid, .not a replacement for your lost hearing., Nothing can take the place of your own ears, but this will be better than not hear- An Obstacle to Community / 21~1 ing at,all." How very~true! . o A,,.hearing aid is a .small microphone and amplifier, ~, highly . refined but of,-limited.range. Every sound it picks up .is amplified, and it amplifies equally all the sounds it receives. But,.the human voice is the softest of,.all souiids and, thus, all the other~harsh, piercing or overwhelming sounds of our contemporary din-culture are far more penetrating than the human vpice,could ever be. Let me give some examples., .~,~ As I sit 'at ;table with .:a friend, he .may be speaking to me just a few feet. from my hearing ,,aid, yet the clashing and crashing (as it sounds to me) of knives, forks hnd,cro~ckery a few. tables away will jam .his voice out.Or, take .the classroom scene.- The walls are clean and bare, as are the blackboards and ,'ceiling; the floors are polished hardwood, the desks covered with smooth,, hard: writing surfaces all perfect substances for echoing. Then we have the teacher's voice bouncing off these surfaces, anti the. coughs, the scraping~.of feet, the shifting of chairs, the laying down of.lpens; and all the oother~signs of,~life,and activity ,usually found in class, .rooms. Not only these sounds but even the echoes are amplified so that the wearer of the hearing , aid ~ is sometimes drowned in a sea of sound. The human v~oice has a hard time penetrating such a din. ~'. Well, what can°be, done about all this? The first thing that occurs to me is for all~ normal hearers to make themselves conscious of the~ situation. Don;t. think that whoever wears a hearing aid automatically obtains normal hearing~ or'~even good artificial hearing. He has .only avoided, the worst° of his problems; namely, how to hear anything at all. There is a big gap be-tween "tuning in" on the human race, and actually hearing what the human race is saying. There is the further problem of trying, to get the human ~race to speak,clearly, distinctly ands fairly slowly~ so as not to run the~.syllables together. For,. if the second ,syllable comes too hard_upon the first it is drowned,by the echo of the. first, and the third by the second, and s6 on ad conlustonem. Then, too, the normal speaker sprinkles "ifs," "buts,"k,"nots" ~and. many others earth-changing words of small size through-out his speech, to the distress of~ the mechanical, ear. 0 .~. If you wish to communicate with the deaf, .keep ,~ your voice as much as possible at the sam.e pitch, and iiatensity. The i~xp~ressive tonal, changes of emotional, conversatiori will be lost on the unemotional, hearing aid; itqs,,a receiver, not an interpreter. I think that religious houses,could do something abrut the,,decor of ,the places where the commianity gathers, such. asi'ecreation rooms, chapel, dining rooms, and the like. Non-echoing surfaces would be the?desirable thing if the deaf are to be accepted into the confidence of community conversation. It does,take special efforts to communicate with the deaf and each individual must settle his own con-science on the amount of' charity he is willing to exercise in regard to his fellow religious who are poor in hearing: One would think that the predicament of deaf human beings, as I have outlined it, would offer no particular problem to a religious community 212 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 which is supposed to be founded on charity. However, there is a large problem, a~hidden snag, which contradicts all theories. ,The ordinary, evbryday religious.is not deaf, and, therefore~ is not r+minded twenty-four hours a day of the condition of not being able to.hear. And, so, he forgets, ands the-deaf person is forced to the constant, .annoying0practice of re-minding people' of his difficulty. This becomes very tiresome. You would think that the sight of the hearingaid wouli:l be reminder enough, but ap-parently~ it"is not. The deaf person feels about as you would if you had to begin every conversation by reminding people of your weight, or your age. It is just as annoying'to have to keep announcing, one's deafness. And so, we deaf ones tend to "drop .out." We avoid all but necessary meetings with others; we avoid large gatherings; we avoid the theater, the lecture hall, the concert hall, even the TV room; and we end up by~ becoming quite isolated. , ~, This is not so bad for those who love to read, to think, to write, ,to paint, or otherwise lead their own private lives, but itqs not community:~life, and the deaf seem. rather cut off from community. Sitting around-in silence among one's fellow religious is not community; we c'an go, out and take a bus ride to do that! A.further misfortune is that many of the deaf still retain~the gregarious natures God gave them from the start. This isola-tion is especially ~ hard. on them. They. miss the points;'of all the jokes be-cause the point is usually buried in gales of laughter by the narrator and the audience. They miss the~quick, incisive bon mot, for it is usually, delivered in, swift, low tones. They miss the emotional conclusion of a story; because the speaker usually whispers it to himself. We certain.ly cannot consign all the deaf to. the'.oblivion of their ail-ment, no more than we can the elderly, the lame, the blind, or anyone else 'who has .lost ~some.of his physical faculties but not the use of his reason. We are told that due to the excessive noise of our .times (hard "rock," jack hammers; low-flying jets, band saws, power mowers, power leaf-blowers, sirens, diesel.rigs on the road, and all the dreary rest of it) there is.~a growing incidence of deafness seven among the young. If this be true, we can expect 'ttuite a time of it in a generation or~ so: I delayed writing this article for thr6e ~years, nagged b~ the worry that it- was motivated by self-pity. Yet, I really believe that what:I have said needed to be said, and~meditated, and acted upon. The deaf I have knowfi in the past have been very patient, e.ntirely toO'long-suffering, humble people," perhaps despairing of ever being understood, and~they have not made a sufficient case: for themselves. It is' surprising how little has'been written, about deafness and its social effects. I hesitated, then, to write, and argued with myself, until, one day I was discussing the subject with a friend and mentioned my fears. He replied with a laugh: "Don't worry about that. You will not hear what they .say about you, any aWy. , - ~" ?,ome to think,of it, that is one of our consolations. , Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ David ?J. Hassel S.,]. l~ather Hassel has been involved f~r the last six years in the T

Issue 15.3 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, 1956 Mofher Xavier Ross . Sister Julia Gilmore Sis÷ers' Retrea~s--III . Thomas Dubay Our Lady and ~he Apos÷ola~e . EIIwood E. Kieser Communffy C;rosses . Wlnfrld Herbst Devotion ÷o fhe Sacred Hear÷ . c:. A. Herbsf Book Reviews Questions and Answers Summer Schools VOLUME XV No. 3 RI:::VII:::W FOR RI:::LIGIOUS VOLUME XV MAY, 1956 NUMBER CONTENTS MOTHER XAVIER ROSS --- Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L . 113 SISTERS' RETREATS-~III Thomas Dubay, S.M . 128 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 134 OUR LADY AND THE APOSTOLATE--Ellwood E. Kieser, C.S.P. . 135 COMMUNITY CROSSES--Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. : . 141 DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 145 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 152 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 17. Quinquennial Report . . 0 . 156 18. Offering Holy Communion for Others . 157 19. Exempt Religious Obliged to Say Orationes Irnperatae . 158 20. Obligation of Religious to Make Will . ; . 159 21. Computation of Time for Profession . 160 22. Impediment for Renouncing the Catholic Faith . 161 23. Meaning of Patrimony . 162 REPRINT SERIES NOT AVAILABLE . 162 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 162 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTSI Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 163 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1956. Vol. XV, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by- St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approb.ation. Entered as second class matter, January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Geriild Kelly, S.J., Henry Willmering, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Publishing rights reserved by R-EVIEW FOR: RELIGIOUS. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. fl ot:her Xavier Ross Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L. [Editors' Note: This account of the foundress of the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth is adapted from Sister Julia's book, Come Northt.] TO the first call of the West, many of the Pennsylvania settlers responded, following the turnpike surfaced by the new bound-stone method inventedin England by John McAdam, driv-ing their Conestoga wagons on. through Indiana over its corduroy roads; others drifted their keelboats down the Ohio and Mississippi, breaking them up later and rebuilding them into settlers' cabins; others went no farther than Cincinnati, which was already calling itself "The Queen City of the West." Ann Ross was born there on November 17, 1813, the fourth of five children in the family of Richard Ross, a Methodist preacher, and his wife Elizabeth Taylor ROSS. Cincinnati at heart and in spirit was a frontier town built by pioneers, and Ann caught their spirit and courage early. Even in childhood she showed qualities of leadership as she decided the games for her playmates and captained every undertaking. Attractive, though never considered beautiful, she drew atten-tion unconsciously through her physical appearance as well as through her personality. Small, scarcely five feet, she was graceful in her movements, quick in perception and response, her dark wide-set eyes glowing with alertness. Her father's favorite always, he delighted in having her waiting for him after the evening meeting, when he came home with nerves so taut he had to let himself "run down" before he could attempt to sleep. His long discourses drilled his children in close listening and logical thinking--a boon to Ann all her life. Little is known of her early schooling or companionship; but, when she was about fifteen, she became acquainted with a convert, Victoria Robinson, a young girl of very decided character. As the friendship grew, Ann asked to accompany her on~ day to a church service. Although she knew nothing of Catholic devotion, at Bene-diction she knelt when Victoria knelt and stood when Victoria stood, yet for some unsurmised reason burst into tears during the service, but wisely said nothing about it when the girls left the church. The Rosses hearing of this visit made no effort to hide their displeasure, telling Ann that under no condition was she to repeat 113 SISTER JULIA GILMORE Reoieua for Religious the offense. However, this admonition seems to have made little impression upon Ann; for, in less than a year, she insisted upon at-tending Mass one Sunday with Victoria. During the Mass Ann felt coming over her the sweet sense of well-being until the Com-munion when she knew he'rself to be definitely outside the pale. She tried to conceal her tears while insisting after Mass that she be introduced to the priest who had said the Mass. Reluctantly, Victoria yielded to Ann's persuasion; and, when Father Mullin heard her expression of desire to be instructed in the Faith, he ac-quiesced and not too long after baptised her. As on previous occasions the Rosses were vociferous in their disapproval. Her approach to her father in his study tl~e afternoon of her baptism was direct and determined. The ensuing conversa-tion resulted in Richard Ross' mounting anger causing him to forbid Ann not only attendance at Catholic services but also the very men-tion of the name of Catholicism. His sneering abuse changed his house that evening from a haven of peace to a veritable cave of Aeolus full of storm. However, Ann showed her heritage of will power. Regretting as she did the breach in family relations, she, nevertheless, slipped out of the house regularly on Sundays to hear Mass. From her position as loved daughter of the house she soon became an outcast; even her picture was removed from the family group. This strained situation continued about a year; yet Ann seems to have been permitted (at least she continued) her friendship with Victoria. During the following summer Victoria told her she had learned about religious life as lived in communities and that she had decided upon such a life .as she felt a strong desire to turn all her efforts toward helping others. Ann knew nothing of sisterhoods, but in her quiet persevering way learned more of them after that conversation. The day she saw Victoria off at the wharf for her admission into a novitiate, Ann said in farewell, "But it won't be for long; I, too, have applied and have been accepted' for the convent at Nazareth." With her customary directness she approached her father when she returned home that morning and told him of her intention to become a Sister of Charity. His derision and rising temper did not deter her from following her set purpose. Hard as it was to separate herself from the family she loved so deeply, that very night she packed in her old-fashioned suitcase, called 114 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS~ a telescope, the few things she thought might be of use to her in a convent; and, in the early morning before anyone knew she was up, she slipped out of the house, heard Mass, then purcha, sed at the wharf her passage to Louisville from where she would go by stage the remainder of the journey to Nazareth, Kentucky. As she stepped over the threshold of the mother house of the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth that August 22, 1832, she felt neither sense of fear nor strange exaltation. She was being led a willing follower to some great untried destiny. What it was she did not know, but she was content to feel that she was cooperating in every way she could. The scene changes now. Up to this moment her life had been as simple, as free from adventures, as uneventful as a girl's life could be. If no.thing .had occurred to alter it, she might have con-tinued to be a rather lively versatile young person of uncatalogued tendencies. Her potentialities were unknown to others, whatever she felt ~ within herself. What she sought was a work or a calling in which life would yield its maximum possibilities, bringing into fullest play latent faculties. She had never complained about the loss of friends and com-panionship which her conversion to Catholicism had brought her. But it must have been very hard for her to leave the old environ-ment and come to live as she did among strangers. She accepted it all willingly, even joyfully, and certainly with tranquility. The evening of her arrival at Nazareth she was received into the novitiate: and, as was the custom at that time, she received a religious name as a postulant by drawing a slip of paper from among several held in the apron of the mother superior. As she looked at the paper her face expressed bewilderment. She had never seen the name Xavier before. (In various documents her name is spelled Xavia and in her own handwriting can be seen La Soeur Xavia written on the flyleaf of her old French reader.) Getting acquainted took little time; for the new postulant, Sister Xavier, adjusted readily. Nothing seemed strange to her. She rose at four-thirty with the others for the morning prayers said in common, followed through the prayers and work of the day, enjoying the routine of learning how to work on. the farm, in the dairy, the kitchen, the chapel. Under Bishop Flaget and Father David, her religious training and her secular studies progressed. Christmas of 1832 came and went: New Year's, 1833, was unmarked save by the cold and raw- 115 SISTER JULIA GILMORE Review [or Religious ness of winter. February held a great deal for the new postulant as the community council met and approved her for the habit which she received on the twenty-fourth of the month. With black curls gone, but with the same sparkling dark eyes flashing from under the white cap, Sister Xavier may have been less captivating in appearance; but she was nonetheless attractive. There was something compelling about her that obliged the casual observer to closer scrutiny. Her novitiate continued to be interesting to herl although it had its hard moments when the command "Possess your soul in peace and true humility" seemed to her an impossible counsel of perfection. Occasions had come, too, when the thought of home called so imperiously that it was all but impossible not to go back. Whether she heard from her parents during her first six months at Nazareth is not known. That she wrote at rather r~gfilar inter-vals may be presumed, for the custom of writing to parents seems always to have been part of the rule of the novitiate of the Sisters of Charity. She had not been a novice very long, however, when one day she was called to the parlor. Her joy was made poignant by the thought that at last her mother and father had forgiven her and had come to see her habited as a Sister of Charity. But the thought need never have formed; for as she stepped over the threshold of the parlor, her mother rushed toward her screa'ming in tears, "Oh, my poor disfigured child!" Taken aback Sister Xavier turned hope-fully to her father only to see his rude gesture and hear ugliness of tone as he said, "Take off that hideous cap!" at the same time removing it himself. With confidence gone, she stood bewildered for the moment. Then dashing from the room, she ran to Mother Frances' office where sobs had to subside' before her explanations took on coher-ence. Mother Frances' mind was made up' instantly and together they drove the three miles to Bardstown to consult with Bishop Flaget. He listened attentively and compassionately 6nly to say at the end, "You are under age, so you will have to return with your parents." So Ann put on the secular clothes brought by her parents; and the Rosses with their recovered treasure set out as soon as possible for Louisville by stage, only to be thwarted when they tried to purchase tickets there for the upriver trip to Cincinnati as the cap-tain at the wharf told them cholera was raging along the river. 116 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS, Frustrated, Mr. Ross took his family to the Galt House,. leaving them while he went about town on other business. A friend of Mrs. Ross', noting Ann's tears, said in the course of conversation, Ylsn't it a pity to pluck this young flower from the hand of God?" No reply was made, but Ann followed up her advantage; and, when they were alone in their room, she said to her mother, "How can you see me suffer so and make no effort to make me happy?" Her mother's reply was like blinding sunlight bursting through storm clouds, "Well, Ann, my dear child, if you can get away without your father seeing you, you may go with my blessing." In a flash Ann kissed her mother, ran down the stairs, across the lobby and up the street, fearful every moment of meeting her father. She went to the Infirmary of the Sisters of Charity, ex~ plained her being there, waited a few days, and, when her parents did not come for her, returned to Nazareth, resumed her novitiate and upon taking her vows the following February was sent to be a member of the staff of the Orphan Asylum in Louisville. She seemed particularly adapted to the routine of the orphanage and showed in many ways her enjoyment of working with the children. After several years she was appointed the sister servant of this same orphanage (the term then used to designate a sister superior). Whatever time she could afford away from the children, she spent in a little unheated dormitory alcove, planning lessons, doing mend-ing, making up accounts. During the winters, and these can be very severe in Kentucky, an actual poverty demanded heat be pro-vided only' in that part of the house occupied by the children. This took a toll of Sister Xavier, as one winter she contracted a heavy cold" that settled in her ears and resulted ultimately in her total deafness. But nothing deterred her from continuing her work., : Following the Louisville assignment came appointment as sister servant of the academy in Nashville, Tennessee. Her itiitial moiathd there began propitiously, but. in the springof 1848 cholera broke out:; the academy:dosed, and Sister Xavier,with the other teachers joined the si~ters at the.hospital caring for .qictims of the plague. Ofteri' she went about the streets of Nashville'~fom house"to house doing" everything possible for the sick and giv;ing whatever 'con-solation she could to the stricken, many ofwh6m hard made s~afit preparation .for death that was so imminent. A tardy f~ll followed a long,i.hdt surhmer"bef0re"the scourge abated ~and teaching.w~s:~resum~d: ?'(That yhar~.fini~fied," Si~te~ Xax;ier,. 1i7, SISTER JULIA GILMORE Reoiew for Religious .much weakened by :her experience, . was .reassigned as sister servant of the orphanage in Louisville. Some few letters still extant describe the times with their anxi-eties and reveal, as letters do, the characteristics of the writer. One of these in a significant way points up Sister Xavier's simplicity and loyalty at the same time that it makes a reader aware of her out-bursts of temper. The fact is that many who knew her, loved her, and admired her greatly never denied nor tried to conceal what ap-parently was a source of grief and embarrassment to her. Her tem-per, however, seems matched by her humility as she invariably sin-cerely and with simplicity asked pardon for her outbursts. The early and middle nineteenth century was an era of new modes. These were transitional years; changes came in ways un-expected; and customs of long years' standing were being laid aside to give place to the demands of a new and more progressive era. Among other things the administration of schools felt these modi-fications. Bishop Richard Pius Miles, O.P., of Nashville was not com-pletely satisfied with changes made in his staff by the mother house at Nazareth and a prohibition of the sisters' singing in the parish choir. Wishing to retain some as permanent members of his faculty and have a purely diocesan religious order, free from outside author-ity, he petitioned the mother house at Nazareth for a group of its sisters to establish such a community in Nashville. A tradition exists in the Nazareth community that the con-templation of this diocesan foundation in Nashville was generally known for quite some time. In the summer of 1851, Mother Cath-erine Spalding officially made Bishop Miles' request known to her entire community. Since this would mean the loss of some sisters to the still young Nazareth organization; and, as she knew well the countless dangers and hardships which confront communities in their initial stages, Mother Catherine wisely attempted to dis-suade from any precipitancy. She feared that courage might lead to peril. However, in due course, she gave full permission to any member who wished to form the nucleus of the new diocesan foun-dation. The very kindliest of feelings were distinctly manifest .as she made it clear that any sister wishing to remain in or go to Nashville was free to do so. The matter of this proposal was considered seriously, and none of those who accepted it arrived at her decision without thought and meditation. Many nights, lying awake hour after hour, Sister I'18 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS Xavier deliberated upon the proposition before she saw the step that she must take; and the grace came to take it. A new sphere of activity was opening; she was asked to fill it; she determined to lay personal considerations aside and follow the Master with im-plicit confidence in His providence. It was not, however, until the end of ,June that she was able to say t6 herself, "I will cleave to His command, 'Leave all and follow me.' " Not only for her, but also for each one in the group going to Nashville, there was a "giving Up," an "acting against self." Their sorrow was perceptible and deep. They were giving up forever their convent home and life-long friends in Kentucky. Such action brought grief of a nature fully understandable only to those who have had a like experience, but the urgent request they had received could not be lightly disregarded. For Sister Xavier and her five companions there was, along with other ties, the severance of companionship that had grown very close during nineteen years of religious life. She was endeared to the sisters of Nazareth and they were endeared to her. But now, in response to Bishop Miles' persistent request, they withdrew from the Nazareth community in the summer of 1851. Though the Sis-ters of Charity at Nazareth looked upon the separation in varied wa);s, in the years to come they would say of Sister Xavier with unanimous sincerity, "She was a heroine!" Others making the Nashville foundation were Sisters 3oanna Bruner, 3ane Francis 3ones and Ellen Davis (both of whom died in Nashville in 1854), Mary Vincent Kearney, and BaptistaCarney (who returned to Nazareth to be with her own sister in that com-munity). Two others, from Nazareth joined the Nashville group the next year: Sisters Pauline Gibson and Dorothy Villeneuve. All the members retained the religious names they had received upon their entrance into the Nazareth community. Not until 1895 were any alterations made in the habit they wore. Trials were not wanting to Sister Xavier and her valiant band; and, humanly speaking, it was hard for her to realize during these days the truth which she expressed so emphatically: "One finds God everywhere one seeks I~im; He alone is all one needs." But there were compensations, too. The number of sisters was not diminished but augmented, for several young girls sought da - m~sslon to.the new community as postulants as soon as the s~sters would receive them. The beginnings in Nashville were meager; the teaching sisters 1 19 SISTER JULIA GILMORE stayed at the hospital with the nursing sisters until an orphanage for boys was opened. This was followed in rapid succession by a school for girls and an orphanage for girls which also served as a boarding school. Within a year Sister Xavier had been elected the mother superior. Under her guidance the institutions grew, and work awaited the sisters on all sides. Mother Xavier apparently acted as mistress of novices as well as superior of the growing community. Some few 6f her instructions to members of the novitiate are still extant. Be-cause she knew the value of discipline and had learned God's ways with the soul, she could personally share such counsels as these: "Instead of reviewing in a too self-satisfied manner whatever you may have done well, cherish and improve every day the spirit of prayer and habitual recollection, obedience, humility, charity, sim-plicity, modesty, and fidelity. Then Christ will be with you and His presence is the only thing in which to take satisfaction . The conventions and courtesies of social intercouse should not be neglected nor disdained, as they are the natural aids to the promo-tion of God's work . Refinement of manner and virile spiritual life are close companions. They are essential to the keeping of the Rule . Every act of obedience is an act of faith, and the just man lives by faith .Divine love and humble prayer must animate you." Father Ivo Schacht (pronounced Scat), a zealous.Belgian priest, was appointed by Bishop Miles spiritual director of the community. He worked constantly toward the spiritual development of the sisters as well as the expansion of facilities in order to. care for more and more children.- .=. With this endin view, late in 1856, heobegan the construction of an academy and mother house on a part of farm grounds on which he had previously built an orphanage. To finance these buildings he used with the permissibn of his.bishop deposits re-ceived from members of the Nashville: congregation. The construc-tion was completed; the sisters, :no~cices, arid.postulants were living in the part to be used as a mother house; the academy had promise of a full enrollment. It would be but a short time before the debt on the building would be paid. Then, early in 1857, clouds began to appear on the horizon, small at first and not much noticed; but with the months they increased in size and proportion, throwing deep shadows upon the .young Nashville community. A misunderstanding .that had.lbeen brewing between Bishop 120 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS Miles and Father Schacht resulted in the latter's, withdrawal from the diocese. Whatever the difficulty between the two, certainly it should never have affected the sisters. But it did. Father Schacht deeply regretted the complicated situation in which he would be obliged to leave this group of Sisters of Charity, but he was power-less to assist them further. About July or August of 1858 when the depositors learned of Father Schacht's departure, they grew clamorous for their money. Had they but consented to wait, the debt in due time would have been liquidated; but they would not. Mother Xavier finding that the Bishop refused to assume the responsibility of payment took counsel with the sisters, and "the group resolved to sell everything they had in the world and pay those to whom money was due. Another Via Crucis had begun. All the institutions were flourish-ing; all would have to suffer. Mother Xavier was filled with so-licitude for the sisters, patients, orphans, and students. She had always regarded the bishop as a very pious man prompted by the best motives. Never, even in this trial, did an expression of bitterness or lack of reverence escape her in speaking of him. Invariably she said, "He means well." She understood how, without malice on either side, misunderstandings happen and cause very keen suffering to those whose aim is to make others happy. During this period of insecurity and anxiety, she made ac-quaintance with distress of mind, human weakness, misunderstand-ing-- all a part of the apostolate. The future appeared to her a maelstrom of black emptiness. As she said years later, it was this tribulation that taught her that "each loss is truest gain, if day by day Christ fills the place of all He took away." One consolation alone remained: the sisters were in agreement that whatever Mother Xavier undertook they would stand by her. Their one definite, expressed wish was to stay together as a com-munity. Previous to this, only flitting thoughts had come of ever leav-ing Nashville where they found themselves hemmed in on all sides by older communities; now the thoughts took deeper hold. As a metropolitan co.uncil would open early in September of that year, 1858, it was suggested that Mother Xavier make a trip to St. Louis to see if a new home could be found for the entire community. After much serious thought and 15efore reaching a decision, she urged the commu'nity, "Let us pray over the matter 121 SISTER ,JULIA GILMORE Reuiew for Religious first. Divine Providence has never failed us. It won't now. 13ut, Sisters, pray! We have come upon a crucial time; prayer alone will help us in this trial, and let your prayers brim over with faith!" Had she been made of less durable stuff, her interview with Archbishop Kenrick of St. Louis would have been most discourag-ing; for, although he gave close and sympathetic attention to her presentation of the situation, even asking an occasional question, his comment was terse: "I know of no bishop who wishes sisters." But Mother Xavier's faith and hope led her to ask, "Most Rev-erend Archbishop, if anyone of the bishops belonging to your prov-ince were willing to receive us into his diocese, would your Grace prevent him ?" A ring of admiration and honest sincerity shot tiarough his reply, "No, my child, I would not." When 13ishop 3ohn 13. Mieg~, S.3., from Indian Territory heard the facts the next day, he not only signified willingness to receive the community, but also radiated enthusiasm in his urgent "Come north as soon as possible!" The night Mother Xavier left Nashville for St. Louis, she and the sisters promised that should a home be found for them as a community, in gratitude to our Lady a novena in her honor would be said in perpetuity in all houses of l~he order daily. This novena begun in Nashville has continued down the years as the community made its foundation in Leavenworth and established houses in ten different states. With auctioning off re.al and movable properties, packing, find-ing homes for orphans, closing up houses, days passed rapidly: and by November, 1858, the first group of sisters left for Leaven-worth City, Indian Territory. In December the remainder of the community followed with the exception of Mother Xavier and Sister ,Joanna who remained behind to conclude all business trans-actions. This they accomplished by the end of 3anuary, 1859; and left the South with a balance of $9.00 to join the other members in Leavenworth City. Ability to endure hardship, coupled with foresight and perse-verance, had enabled the sisters to begin at once a day school and a boarding school. Cramped quarters constantly called for expan-sion; and with expansion came the work dearest of all to Mother Xavier--an orphanage. From the beginning of the new foundation, candidates joined the community; more could be accomplished as numbers increased, but with the increase other trials came. With 122 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIEI~ ROSS the opening of the orphanage, adverse opinions arose; criticism came from within--the kind hardest to bear. But Mother Xavier con-stantly kept the supernatural motive before her saying, "Let the joy be in the doing, not in the end. If the Work succeeds we will know it is God's will." The sisters realized, of course, that in the mighty drama of " human living there was nothing less than a supernatural goal to attain. Education was simply too broad a term for them; there was more to the formation of their students than that "their minds be instructed, their hearts and heads be cultivated" as the Leaven-worth reporters penned in grateful tribute at the end of the first school year in Indian Territory. There was, rather, an ideal to be embodied in their students' lives: the ideal of the Maid of Naz-areth. To make this ideal a vibrant reality in the hearts and minds of their charges, the sisters toiled consistently, unfolding behind the curtain of daily living the drama of true advancement. In all ways the community toiled. The regular routine of domestic work included the gathering of wild fruit and nuts, for the sisters needed every bit they could garner; they planted, har-vested, canned, preserved, fished in the streams along with the other townsfolk, made their candles and soap as 'all pioneer women did. Wherever the sisters worked, Mother Xavier worked with them. Manual labor was a part of her day the same as her teaching of French and English composition, literature, music and art, manag-ing the household and going into the homes to nurse the sick until a hospital could be established. ,Her participation~ in all community activity was a transparency through which can be seen her charity and deep concern for the sisters, and the joy it gave her to be with them. As acquaintance with the sisters grew so did applications for membership. Accommodations were so meager that the time came when prospective members had to be refused for lack of space. This led to the planning and construction of a building outside the city limits that would serve both students and sisters. But, before the place was finished, it had to be boarded up for lack of funds. Never a financial wizard,, Mother Xavier had been unable to .do more than care for running expenses at the same time that the community lived in real poverty. When a loan was suggested as a means of getting the new academy finished and ready for occupancy, she was appalled by the idea. Debt w, as the nemesis that had dogged her footsteps before; 123 :SISTER JULIA GILMORE Review [or Religious now ag~iiilit was to pursue her. Raffles were resorted to, and for at least-six years two sisters and sometimes four went from coast to coast begging for funds .to pay off the debt. When Mother Xavier sent them "on the road" to "Trust in God and beg for funds," she had no way of knowing the humiliations that would come to them through sus-picion of being imposters, having all their luggage stolen, and the .refusals of bishops and pastors to permit them to solicit. When she .heard of these trials, she suffered with the sisters through-their hard-ships and anxieties but never lost hope. In one of her letters she said, "We. must put our shoulders to the wheel, and pratt, too, without ceasing." Through the united efforts of all the sisters, two years after the boarding-up, the new building was finished and opened, filled to capacity. Every. waking minute was taken up for the sisters with routine duties and spiritual exercises. Much of the time out: side of class went.to "being with the girls," conversing while busy with sewing or other needlework; for the foundress felt that her ,responsibility was to teach Catholic girls to take their place in so-ciety and to be a part of the world they lived in. She believed that all the ends she proposed could be gained by showing interest and trust in the students, and this she wished all the members of the community to show. She maintained that the best opportunities for association came during the free time when classroom formality ceased. Much as the future looked glowing for the young community and their charges, respite from anguish was short-lived for them. ~Tbe new academy was not open six months when, one cold Janu-ary day, the contractor called upon Mother Xavier demanding im-mediate payment of notes with 12% interest. Both she and the treasurer, Sister Joanna, begged for tim~; the notes were not due; and not a cent of money was available. It took an amount of per- .suasion to induce the contractor, James McGonigle, to wait; he was reluctant even to leave the building, threatening to put the place up for auction if payment were not made immediately. Again the sisters .faced the possibility of being made homeless. Calling together the entire community, novices and postulants as well as professed, Mother Xavier laid before them the circum-stances saying, "We .have no recourse except God; I tell you we have. nothing earthly :to. depend upon. You will have to pray hard. God will not forsake us in this our hour of need." 124 May, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS It was then she asked the sisters to form bands of three and rotate hours of petition before the Blessed Sacrament. The greater part of the next three days and nights found her keeping the vigil of petition, kneeling upright, her eyes closed, her hands clasped. She was oblivious of time. Grhdually the hope faded that .Mr. Mc- Gonigle would relent and withdraw his demands. The community council met and authorized Sister 3oanna to try to negotiate a loan in St. Louis for the required $27,000: During her absence the most severe of fasts was observed at the mother house while the prayers of petition continued strong and unabated. Weeks passed; weeks of hope. and faith and peni-tential prayer on the part of each one in the community. Not until five months had elapsed, however; did the answer come in the form of a telegram from Sister 3oanna urging Mother Xavier to come to St. Louis immediately as a loan could be negotiated. This was but a part of the answer to the petition. When the sisters returned from St. Louis, they were hurrying in to Leaven-worth to pay Mr. McGonigle when a gentleman, a Mr. 3ohn F. Lee, who had met Mother Xavier previously in St. Louis called at the mother house to tell her he had already paid the contractor. There was no way, naturally speaking, to express adequate gratitude for such magnanimity. As long as Mother Xavier lived, she used to say to the sisters, "Pray for him, for it is the only way we can-show our appreciation to him. Had it not been for his kindness and indulgence, Mount St. Mary's would long since have gone under the hammer of the auctioneer." In spite of those years of trial, the community grew and ex-panded, opening schools, orphanages, hospitals, foundling homes, from Missouri west to Montana and New Mexico. Mother Xavier continued to govern the community, although handicapped by deafness that first caused her to use a trumpet, then a dentiphone, until finally no sound of a~y kind penetrated from the outside although within her head constant pain was accompanied by a noise that seemed like huge slabs of stone knocking against each other. She continued helping with all tasks, gave conferences, and visited the houses of the community showing interest in every-thing, done by the sisters, admonishing, praising as the need might be. Through dispensation she had guided the community since its inception as Bishop Midge had thought it wisdom for her to do so; 125 SISTER ,JULIA GILMORE Reuiew for Religious in 1877 she asked to be relieved of the responsibility of office. With hearing completely gone and ravages of age making inroads, she asked that someone else take up the burden. ~Election resulted 'in Mother 3osephine Cantwell being placed in office; immediately she asked Mother Xavier to assume the spir-itual training of the members of the novitiate. For this position she was apt, as she possessed a particular gift in character discernment. She could hold up a very unprepossessing person in a certain light. and immediately that person seemed to take on new and unseen qualities: When asked her secret, she insisted she had none. Ob-viously she had; obviously, too, she interested herself in each indi-vidual .m~mber, learned the names of her family, her likes and dis-likes-- these gave the clue to abilities that once developed could make fo~ ha~opy and satisfying placement. All this taken together helped make Mother Xavier a contemporary of everyone, and an absolute absence of partiality gained the novices' confidence. " Mother Xavier's instructions to the novices, which fortunately are extant in part, brimmed with practical application. In these conferences she often repeated that the poor were to be treated with the same courtesy and respect as those abundantly blessed with the comforts and luxuries of life: "Be respectful to strangers; treat them with courtesy and kindness in order to draw them to God through yourself . Meet guests in a quiet dignified manner and. with a quiet cheerfdl look. Never go before externs with a dark gloomy.expression or in a frivolous manner . The Lord loveth a cheerful giver--then give cheerfully!" Invariably her instruc-tions closed with" "And, Sisters, be kind to the orphan; be good to the" poor." Busy herself always, she decried idleness in anyone, a fact which probably gave voice to these admonitions: "Always do what is expected of you, and more, much more: Do .not wait to be asked or told to do something. If there is a task to be done, do' it---quickly, quietly. The feet will go to the place the heart "is. Do .not boast either about doing extra work. In fact, nothing" is extra. As long as it remains to be done, it is your work . If we.have confidence inGod, we will have'cbniidence in ourselves. ¯ . . Be able to do things alon~! It is pitiful.to see Sisters unable to. do chores; study, go to prayers without ~eeking companionship:' Remember-~crows and sparrows flock together; eagles fly alone i"" Filled as her life was with the serious purpose of religion, Mother Xavier .still found ~ime for' much ~fun.She loved .drama, 1'26 Ma~, 1956 MOTHER XAVIER ROSS charades, pantomimes, and wrote and .t~ugb~t more than'one script for the novices or professed. He hearty laugh, spontaneous response to enjoyment, led one novice to write to her "father, "If you want to learn to laugh, come to our novitiate and we'll show you how." Gloominess had no part in her. She often said, "The sovereign remedy for mental agitation is prayer; we carl be bothered only if we let ourselves be bothered.". Through the years, she lived what she taught. Her words were not without example when she cautioned, "If you love God 'you will be courteous to each other . Guard your tongues, when a hasty thought would express itself. And remember, a witty person must be most careful, for often wit stings, and we never know how a word said in jest might wound severely a sensitive nature . Warm yourselves at the tabernacle fires. Love the Blessed Sacra-ment! There is no need of books when we speak to our friends; neither is there any need of books when we speak to our Great Friend." On the occasion of a community jubile.e when asked about the seeming length of years and community growth, she answered, "During the years I have watched our community grow, I have thanked Godfor the increase, it is true; but mostly I thanked Him for the spirit that makes our members practice virtue. I have noted, too, the development of ingenuity and a certain practical philosophy. This we need together with faith in God and the propensity 'to pull on through.' " When death came she had definitely left an impress on the community she had established. Hers was a vast life; sixty-three years of it were spent in re-ligion. During those years Mother Xavier's companions consciously or unconsciously imbibed her spirit which has become the heritage of the order. Her place in the hearts of the sisters can be estimated through a tribute given by one member at the time of Mother Xavier's death and which seems representative: "She was always solicitous for. our welfare and gave less heed to her own comforts than to ours. She encouraged us in every undertaking, consoled us in our troubles, nursed us in our sickness and advised us on all occasions. " : ;'She was mother to the poor and suffering, for no one enter[ ing her door to ask for help ever was turned away. Her helping hand banished poverty from many a pioneer home and. s.ent re.any a traveler on his way.rejoicing. No small, numb.e.L.oJ: orpha.n chil-drei~ found shelter,.food, care, and love under h~rroof '~. 127 Sisters' Ret:rea!:s--III Thomas Dubay, $.M. IN this present article of our retreat study, we shall consider three disconnected problems: the meditation expose, the use of humor, and the private conference with the retreat master. MEDITATION EXPOSI~--TIME LENGTH The first question to which we shall turn our attention deals with the length of the ordinary meditation expos~ given by the retreat master. The item was worded as follows: What time length do you ordinarily prefer for a meditation expose? __15 min. __20 min. __30 min. __45 min. __60 min. Further com-ment: (space provided) Table I gives the distribution of the sisters' answers to this query. Table I Meditation Expose--Time Length 15 min . 17 (2.5%) 20 min . 64 (9.3%) 30 min . " . 380 (55.1%) 45 min . 208 (30,1%) 60 min . 21 (3.0%) As would be expected, the majority selected a middle course of thirty minutes~ while the two extremes of 15 and 60 minutes are rather sparsely represented. It may be surprising to some that so large a number of sisters prefer the somewhat long expos4 time of 45 minutes, while relatively few favor the 20-minute meditation outline. More interesting than mere figures are the sisters' reasons for their choices. These we will consider under the heading of each time bracket and apportion according to the number of votes in each category. 15 minutes: Leave some of the period, especially thefirst period, for meditating by the sisters. Short--concise. 20 minutes: It should give the sisters sufficient time to develop the ideas or points exposed. It is not up to the retreat master to make the retreat for the sisters. 128 SISTERS" RETREATS--III . If the expos~ is longer, it usually is due to poor organization or needless repetition. No matter how good the speaker, ~ long expos~ tends to make listeners restless, especially in summer. Retreat masters seem to lack faith in sisters' poweb to meditate and weary them with too much talk. No energy left for meditation. 30 minutes: This would vary depending on the subject matter. Some 15 minute conferences seem more like 60 minutes and sometimes the reverse is true. There is a limit as to the amount one can take at one time. This seems relative to the amoun't of time provided for meditation following the expose. Our retreat meditations average I~ hours. Were less time provided, I would want less than 30 minute expose. This gives us 30 minutes for reflection and, therefore, would give a good balance to the meditation. I think usually some of the meditation lectures are too long, thereby not providing enough time for reflection. I have indicated the maximum. We are not permitted to leave the chapel until the full hour is completed. We need time to do a little thinking and praying for ourselves. If sisters spend free time in sewing, orifice work, etc., then it would be better to have longer medi-tations. If the retreat master has well chosen material and really gives it even 45 minutes is short. But if he has to read--well--let's make it 15! 45 minutes: I'm generally too tired mentally to meditate long myself because of going directly to retreat from school. It depends on the speaker. If he is really saying something, all right; but if not, cut it short. It is too hard to fill in the time when the retreat master makes it so short. Some conferences and meditations are entirely too short and I'm not contemplative enough. During retreat there is always plenty of time to think over all that has been given during the periods between talks. If the retreat master devotes less time all angles are not attacked. 60 minutes: Sixty minutes if it's stimulating. I admit I'm one of those rare creatures who likes instructions. Perhaps some mental laziness is implied in the fact that the time taken by the retreat master does not have to be occupied in personal reflection. All of which, of course, leaves the poor retreat master in a quan- 129 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious dary. He cannot possibly satisfy everybody. On the bright side, however, he can cgnsole himself that somebody is likely to be pleased no matter how briefly or protractedly he speaks. . . In a practical vein we may conclude that the whole picture sug-gests that most sisters would be pleased and fewest displeased by a meditation expos~ in the neighborhood of 30 minutes. In view of the sisters' remarks it may often be wise for the retreat master to consider varying this figure accbrding to subject, temperature, and an honest estimate of his own ability. HUMOR We next take up the question of intentional humor, in a medi-tation expose. It is of set purpose that we mention intentional humor (usually in the form of jokes), for, while the sisters universally like a sense of humor in the retreat master, not all of them desire jokes in the meditation expos& T16e' present item was worded as follows : Do you like jokes in a meditation expose? __.I prefer none at all ___It depends on the subject --_I enjoy a few Further comment : In this survey sisters who prefer no jokes at all in the medita-tion expos4 formed a small minority of 49 (7.1%); those who enjoy a fewnumbered 285 (41.4%); and those who specified that joke-telling must depend on the subject of the meditation numbered 355 (51.5%). Several sisters pointed out that the answer would depend also on the fitness of the joke, the manner of telling;-etc. One mentioned that she always enjoys a joke, while only one stated that she likes many. ~., Excerpt,s from the sisters' written comments follow: Just enough to break the tension which ordinarily comes durin'g retreat. Maybe three or four, but at.retreat [ really want to make a retreat. If it is a real meditation exposd I prefer none; in a conference on.ly a few. Most sisters really serious about the business of sanctity do not come" to retreat to be entertained. .'. . 'Jokes for.the most'part are out of place. On the other, hand a greatness of faith brings with it a delicateness and. lighm~ss .of touch that/sees the'bt~.m~r ir~.'our seriousness, ¯ .'" ' ::.d ¯ " I never enjoy a joke during retreat if it is obviously told just to be clever. If it makes a'poinr it "is appreciated. " " , ¯ 130 May, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--III If they are real incidents or experiences, they are.good. Sisters are not so stupid as to enjoy stale old jokes. It depends on the fitness and the manner of telling as well as on the subject. Distinguish anecdot~tge and jokes from the wit and humor which flow out naturally and relax tension without distracting attention. Personal memoirs are rarely wel-come in quantity. These often bring home the point, and'it lessens the tension. Making a good retreat is hard work, and nerves get taut. Jokes help! There are some people--myself included--who can't really tell them. If one can't it is better to skip it. Be natural. I think most sisters are eager to hear more about our Lord and the spiritual life. In themselves these are serious subjects and do not call for joking as a rule. We don't have to make a retreat to hear jokes. There are sut~icient'magazines,'etc., that can supply us with jokes. Not standard jokes, but a real sense of humor that sees through things, to what makes them really, funny, or unimportant, or ridiculous, or sublimely delightfu.1. The "Jokers" usually "give the impression that they missed their calling. A stage might better be their proper place. What sister wants jokes brought into a" medi-tation on the Passion? Yet I have heard such. And some jokes are just a trifle risque--a serious, saintly priest doesn't need such "props." I do not like too rriuch joking and funny stories. Nor do I prefer someone who seems to lack a sense of humor. I like,.to !augh ,once in a while! Sometimes meditation exposds are awfully long and dr'y, or they.are deep. A joke helps and relaxes you so you can benefit from the rest of the meditation. Or maybe one is just tired before starting retreat. A'man.who knows and enjoys life and people cannot help being amused at the in-congruit. y he finds. I like to share his amusement, but I do not like "planted" jokes put in to get us in a good mood and least of all "corn." (T.V. comedian type of joke) I prefer a humorous aside when the occasion fits rather than formal jokes of the story type. To my mind, holy things should never be the subject of jokes: at times I have heard them lightly treated by priests who do not seem to. be sensitiv~e on this subject. I enjoy a f.ew jokes, .definitely yes, and I think they are ggod tension, breakers and interest revivers. And I want to put in a vote for well told anecdotes, pithy well-turned phrases, and apt short quotations. Not only do they make for interest and easier listening, but, even more important, they lodge in the memory, perhaps for years. From the above statistical breakdown and the. sisters', expressed opinions one conclusion towers above any othdr: while the sisters appre.ciate humor in gogd taste, they decidedly dislike jokes for the sake of jokes. Or to put.the matter in.othei.words, they want the jokes used ~O'fit the subject, to be well selected; .to have a worth-while purpbse,." and to be gomparatively few. in number. . THOMAS "]~UBAY Reoiew t~or Religious PRIVATE CONFERENCE The soul in its efforts to win the heights of holiness oftenfeels the need of. personalized counsel and guidance from a spiritual di-rector in some sort of situation or other. In our survey the sisters were asked ~vhether or not they thought a private conference with the retreat master and on the occasion of the annual retreat is a de-sirable answer to this need. The exact wording of the question is here given: Would you consider a private conference with the retreat master quite desirable? __.yes, sometimes __no Further comment" A majority, 436 (66.2 %), of the sisters favor the availabilit'y of a private conference: These religious do not think that such a cbnference need be frequent, but rather that it should be available for those who on occasion could benefit from it. A strong minority, 223 (33.8%), fed that the need and advisability of a private in-terview with the retreat master are either non-existent or almost so. These latter universally feel that the sister can and should get her prbblems settled in the confessional. The excerpts that follow give a representative picture of the views of the sisters who would find the private conference desir~ible. At times a private conference may be in order. During the whole year in some mis-sions there is no opportunity to get advice or help from a religious priest. Prob-lems do arise. For obvious reasons one does not wish to detain the retreat master in the confessional. Sometimes that is very beneficial. At one time I had a confessor when out on the missions who did not understand me. He got me all muddled. I was in agony. The retreat master straightened me out. Many times I would like to discuss some problems with the retreat master, but being a proud human being, I always find excuses for not doing, so and hence go on being bothered. It would be good if he were available without any red tape about getting to see him. One doesn't care to have many "women" know that one did so. What. they don't know does not create comment. It is impossible for every sister to talk with the retreat master, but sometimes it is essential to do so. In rare instances. Usually the retreat masters don't want them. They feel confes-sion is su$cient. Yet, I think here is a great lack of understanding. This, too. should be explained. When can a religious go with her problems to a priest? Why are higher superiors reluctant to see her do so? Why should the attitude be taken, that one will immediately degrade her community, etc.? If a religious doesn't 132 May, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS~--III feel she has that freedom, she Will look for oth(r means to ~olve her problems, or just drop them and give up . . . I have been a superior . Sometimes the conferences, would have never cleared up my dit~cultieS, but a private conference where I can ask. questions did. I don't mean being a nuisahce. Let it be brief as possible and to the point. Let it not be of a nature which concerns your superior and yourself. Some do not seem to know how to draw the line between what should be discussed or what [not]. I have never had one so I do not know. It would be awfully nice to be able to ask questions sometimes. I have only taken the opportunity once, but it was a marvelous help and brought very lasting, peace and understanding of some questions. Not often, but some few times a conference would be definitely desirable. Again, private conferences are something else that some sisters have, perhaps, abused; but for the sister, say, with grave temptations against her vocation or perplexed by some moral problem, or the like, such a conference could be a golden opportunity. Per-haps, retreat masters do not realize how often sisters may be _extremely limited in their opportunities for such help during the year. It would have saved me worlds of worry in the past, but it is not the custom in our order, and so I've done without. There are some matters one simply can't get straight in the confessional. I have always been afraid to ask for one. It is much frowned upon. I feel it would be a great help. Not often, but it would be a big help if such an opportunity were provided. I know several sisters who actually need this help, and if it were offered to everyone, these would not feel embarrassed. In many cases it is necessary. The mission life presents many difficult problems. I know that I often long for a spiritual advisor and I am disappointed when I find that the retreat master has no time for me. Typical of those who oppose the private interview are these opinions: All the advice I need can be gotten in the confessional where ple.nty of time is given and personal satisfaction is not sought. There is such ,a thing as community loyalty and one way in which a disloyal member could prove herself so would be this. If a conferencd is needed, I think the confessional would be more suitable and proper. Nol because I have seen that they have brought discontent and envy among the religious themselves. if a retreat master is generous with his time and a competent advisor in confession, it so far has solv, ed all troubles. I can't see'how a retreat master in one private konferen~e c6uld possibly help one --~esp. when two or three hundred people are making the re.treat that usually lasts 5 or 8 days. I realize that there are exceptions, but my ow~ .feeling is that it is the "oddities" that usually ask private conferences. 133 THOMAS DUBAY ,.,'" I think you.can settle most questions in the confessional. You should go to your own superior for a privat~ conference. I think for a time this was overdone and it took time from retreat priest [sic] he should have spent.in preparation. The confessional at retreat'tim~ is a good place to settle problems. The Holy Spirit is more likely to be in on it too. One sister made an interestihg distinction: I think it depends on the individual. If she ii seeking attention"and sympathy, NO. If she is seeking higher heights of sanctity, YES. In accord with our expressed policy of not stating a p~eference for either opinion, we will allow the reader to evaluate the sisters' reasonings for himself. It seems compatible with this policy, how-ever, to point out that religious superiors and retreat masters should consider seriously the request of so many sisters for the availability of a private interview. Whether their decision be affirmative or nega-tive, the above discussion seems to demand a thoughtful examina-tion of the problem and a solution that will do the greatest'good to the greatest number. " SOME BOOKS RECEIVED " Only books sent directly to our book-review editor (see address on inside front cover or on p. 163) are included in our "Reviews and .AnnounCements." The fol-lowing books were sent to St. Marys: ~'., :. Index of The American Ecclesiastical Review, Volumes 10 i- 130 (July, 19392- dune, 1954). The Catholic University of America ",Press ~.620. Michigan Ave.,.N.E., Washington 17, D. C. $3.75. . ~ :.,, The Catholic Booklist, 1956. St. Cattiarind 2unior,~College,.St. Catharine, Ky. $.75. Salt It With Stories. By Cyprian Truss, O.F.M.Cap.JQseph F, Wagner., Inc., 33 Park Place, New York 7, N. Y. $3.95. There's More to Life than Living It. By Albert J. Nimeth. O.F.M. FranciScan Herald Press, 1434 W. 51st St., Chicago 9, II1. $.95. . ; , . The Eternal Shepherd-~4th Series. By.Thqmas H. Moore.S:4., Apostle.ship of Prayer, 515 East Fordham Road, New Ybrk 58, N. Y. $2.00. No Cross No C?'owfi." By Rev. Clement H. Ci'ock. Societ.y of St. patli, .2.1.8~ Victory Blvd., State~ Ikland 14, N. Y. $2'.50. " John Duns Scotus, A Teach& for~ Our T~rnes. B;/ ]3~ra'ud de Saint-Maurid~i Franciscan Institute,.St. Bonaventure; N.:¯.Y~-;,.~" -/." .~,: . : ¯ " Works of Saint Bonaventure: I. De Reductlone Artium ad Theologlarm "A° co'm-mentary with an introduction and translation by Sister Emma Therese Healy. ,Fr.an- ,Ciscan Instithte, St~ Bon~(,~iu're, N. Y. ' "" '" Maqt in the Franciscan Order. Proceedings of the Third Naticmal Meetin~ of Franciscan Teaching Sisterhoods. "Franciscan', Institute, St. Bonaventure," N. Y. "" M.aq¢ in Historg,i'n"~Fi~ith;, imd fn Devotiod. By Rev. "Anselm Burke, O. Carm: :Scapular Press, 329'E. 28thSt., New Y6rk',16,N. Y. $3.50. . (Continued bh "i~ge 162) " 134 Our Lady and t:he ,Apost:olat:e Ellwood E. Kieser, C.S.P. IN the year 747 of the city of Rome, a Jewish girl made a decision which completely changed the course of human history. She un-loosed a tidal wave which will forever break against the shores of time, washing with its current the souls, of all mankind. The girl in question: Mary of Nazareth. Her decision: to be the Mother of God, the first and greatest of all Christl~earers. Why her impact on history? Because the fate of mankind de-pended upon that decision. Mary spoke for humanity. Her consent was our consent. The consequences of her decision intimately effect our lives. 1-°op~ Plus puts it this way: "In the name of the whole human race, she gave her consent for a spiritual marriage between the Son of God" and human nature." Mankind, until this time separated from.God and condemne'd to frustration, Was rejoined to the divinity in the person of God's own Son. Infinite God was clad in finite flesh. Eternity entered time. Omnipotence became child. The source of all truth, goodness, and beauty dwelt among us in the womb of this girl. The drama of redemption has begun, and Mary con~ents to play the supporting role. Mary knew the implications of her rolel the price she would be required to pay,"its'effects upon millions of human lives. She faced her destiny. She adcepted it. She gave herself to its fulfillment with all the ardour and courage of her grace-filled soul. This destiny meant two thing's. She must possess Christ. She must give Christ. These are ihe two'poles of Mary's mentality to-w~ ird which all else converge. Without possession, without giving, Mary's life would have been incomplete. The~e two poles are found in every Christian who wants to give Christ to" others. He possesses and he gives. Both are absolutely necessary. He cannot give Christ to others if he does ~o~i. first possess Him by l~nciwledge and love. He cannot be a vehicle for Christ's grace if his soul has not been chiseled in Christ's likeness. This it is that makes the apdstle: possessing :Christ, he naturally tries to share his happiness. He tries to give Christ to others. In this, as in all else, Mary is both model and helper. Mary possessed Christ vcith an intimacy and completeness un-known to the greateit saints: .From her youth, she lives amid the highest reaches of'the transforming union. Christ identified Hirhself 135 ELLWOOD E. KIESER Reoieto for Religious with her so that she became for Him an alter ego. He made her another Christ. This caused her to project herself into God, who perfected and strengthened her as the vehicle of His love. She found the perfection of her thoughts in His thoughts; the satisfaction of her desires in His desires; her happiness in His happiness. It was God's thoughts that she thought; God's love that she loved; God's happiness that she shared. While retaining her own personality and freedom, she had become one spirit with God. She had put on the mind of Christ. She could say, even more truly than St. Paul, "I live, now not I, but Christ lives within me." This means that she drew God into her own soul, which be-came His temple and dwelling place. The depths of her soul were wrapped in His presence. Whenever her occupation permitted, she folded back within herself to commune with that Person who was closer to her than she was to herself. Her faculties were completely docile to His inspiration. She be-came a perfect instrument for His action. It was not she alone who thought, spoke, and worked. God did these things in and through her. This grace of indwelling is not specially reserved for Mary. Every Christian who is willing to pay the price, who allows the life of grace to flower in his soul, can.enjoy it. The degree of God's indwelling in our souls will never approach that of Mary. It may not become a matter of experience. We m~iy not feel His presence. But the fact of God's presence in the Christian soul remains. This is a matter of faith. God has promised it to us. There is, of course, a grace and a manner of possessing God which is reserved strictly for Mary. She is God's mother. It was in her body and through her cboperation that Jesus came into the world. He received His human nature from her. She gave Christ His human body, the hands to bless us, the tongue to teach us, the blood to redeem us. She is liter-ally, in the strict physical sense, a Christbearer. Their union could not have been more intimate. Their destinies were intertwined. His mission was her mission. He came to restore men to God's friendship, to take up mystical residence in their souls. She was to help him. She was to give Christ to the world. This ¯ is the second pole of Mary's mentality. She was not content with possessing Christ. Neither must any Christian be. Goodness naturally overflows. Sanctity diffuses itselL Christianity is essentially apostolic. Because she had identified her- 136 ,May, 1956 OUR LADY AND THE APOSTOLATE self with Christ and His mission, she bent all her efforts that others might possess Him also. Her love extended to the entire human race. She knew that 3esus was the first born of many children, that His Mystical Body was to reach out and embrace men of all ages. Because she loved Christ, she loved His adopted brothers, who were to continue His presence through history. This is why she tried to serve them. Love shows itself in gifts. Mary's gift was of infinite value-~her own Son. She could not have done us a greater service, for to give Christ is to give everything. He includes all else. Her gift of Christ took two distinct forms~ The one was in-visible and internal. The other was visible and external. Both are of great importance. The first of these is within the interior of Christ's Mystical Bod~. She is not the head of the Mystical Christ. But she is i~s mother. She cannot appeal to the divine justice. Only Christ can do that. But she can appeal to the divine mercy. What Christ mer-ited in justice, Mary merited in mercy. This is whq she is called the mediatrix of all grace, the aquaduct of divine life. It is through her that Christ's merits are applied to our souls. She merited for us through prayer and through sacrifice. Both of these activities are supremely fruitful in Mary, since she is so in-timately united to her divine Son. Her prayer is the prayer of Christ, simple, trustful, loving. She knocked and the door was opened. She asked and her prayer was answered. She sought and always found. The wedding feast of Cana is a good example. She asked 3esus to perform a miracle before His time had come. He seemed reluctant, but how could He refuse His mother? The miracle was worked, not that the hosts might be spared embarrassment, but that Mary's re-quest might be granted. Now she prays for us, that Christ may live in our souls: And she adds to this the merit of her sacrifice, which is that of her Son. He suffered as priest and victim. She suffered as mother. He offered the sufferings of His body and soul. She offered a heart pierced by seven swords. In their sacrifice, as in all else, the mother and Son were intimately united. Hers was the perfect sacrifice. She could have given no more. The victim who was sacrificed was more precious to her than life itself. Perhaps I should say that He was her life. In giving Him, she gave everything. Nothing could have been more pleasing to 137 ELLWOOD E. KIESER Reoiev3 for ReligioUs the Father, nothing more fruitful for our welfare. Her sacrifice was so complet~ely bound up with that of bet Son.that theologians call bet the coredemptix of the world. ¯ The modern apostle can merit as Mary merited. The degree dif-fers, but the fact remains the same. By prayer and sacrifice, we can bring Christ into the souls of men. kVe can earn for them the grace the)~ need so badly. Why is this? Because the Church is an organism, with many tnembers sharing a community of life. The good fortune of on~ member is the good fortune of all. My prayer and sacrifice make you holy, and your sanctity overflows and contributes to mine until we all attain the fullness of grace to which we have been called. In the spiritual economy, a single good act has reverberations through-out the entire universe. One act of charity performed today in Wash-ington, D; C., has immediate consequences for the entire world, for those in Canton and Moscow and Nexv Delhi as well as *those for whom I explicitly make that act. There seems to be a direct connection between the concentration camps of Siberia,. filled with witnesses for Christ, and the crowded seminaries "6f Catholic University', Menlo Park, and Maryknoll. I did not earn my own vocation. My cooperation was slow and halt-ing. Someone else earned that grace for me. Someone else brought Christ's merits down from heaven, that" they might be applied to my soul. Somewhere, todhy, a priest is cleaning a latrine: a Chinese peasant slips away from her neighbors to refresh herself.with the presence of God; an American girl slips an invoice into a. typewriter with the words, "For you, Lord." These are the people who are keeping the v~orld going, who are bringiflg down the grace which is life and strength. They hre Christbearers; they are apostles in the fullest and noblest sense. Th6s~ "whO" pray and make sacrifices giv~ power to the aposto-late, pr6v]de the fuel for those in the market place. They are'doers in the s'upreme' sense, for theirs is.the highest of activities. The world cannot be changed#ithout pr3ye~ and sacrifice. But with prayer and ~acrifice, the w6rld will be chang~d~ Grace will abound. Christ will be brought into the souls of /neff. This is Mary's promise at Fatima. "" But is this enough? Is this all' Mary did? No, this is not all. Contemplation overflows and expresses itseff in-activity. Both ale an int'egral part of the Christian life. i~Both are.flecessary for the 138 Mat!, 1956 OUR LADY AND. THE APOSTOLATE cont:inuadon of Christ in history. Mary prayed for others. Then she went to them, that they might learn to recognize and love ~her Son. This is the visible, external form of Mary's apostolate. She had no sooner pronounced those words, which, changed the ¯ world,, which brought eternity into time and the Infinite 'into finite flesh,' than she hurried off to Ain-Karem to share this joy with an-other. She alone possessed the good news, but she would not keep it to herself. Over the mountains she went and across the plain, that others might know. that the Messiah had come. To Elizabeth, she brought the presence of Christ. To tbe~infant John, still in his mother's womb, she brought the Holy Spirit. To both, she brought the joy of knowing that the kingdom .of God was at hand. To accomplish this, no price was too high, no inconvenience was too gr.eat. Material discomforts, heartaches, and disappoint-ments were all accepted in the spirit of her original, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to thy word~" Detached even from success, she had but one desire--to .do. the will of God. Nothing else. mattered. .~. :-,.We must- possess, the .same attitude. W.e. possess Chr.ist.The world .needs Christ. We must give Christ to,.the world. Beca.use we are Christians, we must not rest until society is Christian, .until all those who are looking for Christ have found Him. This will not be easy. World-changing is an expensive voca-tion. It demandstime, ~energy, and sacrifice. Often it means disap-pointment and fatigue, .But it is worth it. These things must.be accepted in Mary's spirit. She did not withdraw her commitment; retract her fiat. Neither must we. . . . The spirit of sacrifice which carried her,up. Calvary'sslopes is t.he same which ought to dominate our lives and make us always available when others are in need. The indifference to human recog-nition which carried Mary to Bethlehem and Egypt will .make us personable and kindly .even with those who .do not. seem to deserve such-treatment. The acceptance of God's will which filled her soul when she watched her neighbors reject Jesus will detach" us from suc~ cess, from" a craving for immediate results. "In ev.ery.way~ she is the model of tbose'.who desire to bear Christ to th~ world. - She possessed all the virtues of. the apostolic life in their fullness. The first of these is alertness--to the voice of God, to.the needs of others. The depths of Maryfs soul were ever wrapped in the divine presence, but the surface of her soul was keenly a.war_e of the desires and needs of those around her. At the marriage 139 ELLWOOD E. KIESER Reoieto for Religious least'of Cana, she quickly sensed the awkward position of her hosts. She felt their need and so went to Jesus that He might help them. She was always.in the right, place at the right time, on the spot when needed. On Calvary, at the crisis of His life, when His redemp-tive activity reached its fruition, Jesu~ wanted Mary nearby. She was there--to be proclaimed the mother of the Mystical Christ. The apostolic spirit is always marked by this alertness. The apostle has a great mission. He must look for opportunities to ful-fill it. This means tact and patience and instant response to the needs of others. It mean~ a constant search for those apostolic occasions --for the substitution of love for hatred, truth for error, decency for indecency. The apostle, like Mary, must be in the right place at the right time, with the needed word or deed. "Optimism is another apostolic virtue which Mary possessed in its plenitudi. Hers was not a superficial rose-tinting, but the pene-tration of reality to its depths, beneath its surface evil to its basic goodness. Mary knew that her mission would be fulfilled, that victory would be hers. God had told the serpent, "I will establish a feud.between thee'andthe woman, between thy offspring and hers; she is to crush thy heat1, while thou doth lie in wait at her heal." This optimism does not exclude suffering. But it does trans-form and give meaning to suffering. Mary's anguish on Calvary can hardly be exaggerated. And yet, amid it all," she knew that this death marked the beginning of a new life for her Son-~His mystical reign in the:souls of men. For~this reason, she could rejoice even on Calvary. The modern apostle should be permeated by the same spirit. His is a joyous life, for he possesses Christ. When met with trying situations, with seeming failure, he can say with that other apostle, "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me." Assured that the truth will out, that the gates of hell shall not prevail, he sings the magnificat with Mary. Victory will be his. But I('Iary has still another lesson to teach the modern apostle. She did not try to do extraordinary things. She took the ordinary; trivial duties of everyday life and made them the raw material for perfect sanctity. How did she do it? By performing these' little actions with great love, with a love which invested these insignificant things with momentous importance. This is the way she ~hanged the worldl. Her impact on history cannot be overestimated. Henry Adams calls her, "The. highest en-ergy ever known to man, the creator of four-fifths of his noblest art, 140 May, 1956 COMMUNITY CROSSES exercising vastly more attraction over the human mind than all the steam engines and dynamos ever dreamed of." He who is mighty has done great things through Mary. He will do the same for us. God does not want us to change our way of life. He wants us to sanctify it.He may not want us to take on additional duties. What He does want is the performance of those duties in the most Christlike way possible. There are plenty of op-portunities for Christbearing, for world-changing" in every walk of life, in every moment of the day and night. By seizing these occa-sions, by doing our job with great love for God and our fellow men, we will sanctify ourselves. We will change the world. It is trite to say that the world is in a frightful mess. But it is true. Men are unhappy as they have seldom been. Two billion peo-ple brood over atomic warfare. Children commit crimes shocking in adults. We grope for a solution, for a means of changing the world. And the solution, the means is given to us. When Christ's vicar on earth declared 1954 a Marian year, a year of special devotion to the Mother of God, he told ug to. go to her, that she might "bend tenderly over our aching wounds, convert the wicked, dry the tears of the afflicted and oppressed, comfort the poor and humble~ quench hatreds, .sweeten harshness, protect the holy Church, make all men feel the attraction of Christian goodness." Though the Marian year is over, Mary's influence has not come to an end. To the apostle, to all those who want to change the world for Christ, she offers strength, .guidance, and love. If we go to her, she~will-form Christ in our souls, that we might make Him incarnate in history. If we study her life, we will find the living blueprint which must become our own. She did what we are try-ing to do. We must walk in bet footsteps. Communit:y Crosses Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. ONE of St. Bonaventure's helpful "Twenty-five Maxims" is as follows: "Bear all the persecutions of this world for the love of God, with great equanimity of mind; nay, more, accepting in desire all such persecutions were it possible, rejoice only in the sufferings of Christ. Refusing. the joys of this life, make merry in tribulations and be convinced that their purpose is to purify your soul from sin and to enrich it with merit." In this article I am not going to consider the big c~osses that a 141 WINFRID HERBST Reoieu; [or Religious community may have, those of which it seeks,, sometimes in vain, to rid itself because self:preservation is the first law of nature; for, according to the dictum of St. Thomas, every being resists as much as it can what tends to corrupt it. I am merely going to touch upon some of the numerous little crosses that are encountered in the religious life. They make up in number what they lack in size, and it is terrific how they can get on one's nerves. To make merry in these tribulations and to en-. dure them for the love of God, to be more like Christ in His suffer-ings, is indeed an endless source of merit. "Their purpose is to purify your soul from sin and to enrich it with merit," says St. Bonaventure. The crosses I have in mind have their roots in diversities of character. I might call them peculiarities, certain characteristics that one has and another has not.-Generally they are in themselves trifles, little things like the flies of the fourth plague, that finally began to breakthe v~ill of Pharao, as we read in the eighth ch~ipter of Exodus: "And there came a very grievous swarm of flies into the houses of Pharao and of his servants, and into all the land of Egypt: and the land was corrupted by this kind of flies.'" .These bothersome' little things certainly do put one's patience to the test in community life. Often enough one would be justified in, losing his equanimity in the midst of them. As one religious confided to another: "Yes; he is a saint and everybody, admits it; but he is getting to be such a strain on my nerves, that I. cannot stand it much longer!" If one has the saving sense of humor, it is amusingto recall how one aspirant left the religious life because a table companion was so utterly lacking in good manners; another, could hardly endure, it any longer because there was such a slamming of doors all over the pla.ce; and a third became all excited because doors and windows were left 9pen everywhere. One prays in a tone that is much too high; another, in a tone that is much too low. One prays too fast; another, too slow. One talks too much;.anqther,.too little. One laughs too much, too long, and too loud; another is. grim and morose and apparently sunk in the slough of despon.dengy. One is sensitive to a degree tQ ev.erytbing around him; another is so.hardened that be.hardly knows wheat is going on around him,but unconcernedly pursues his way. But let this indication suffice.A complete enumer~. ation, were it possi'ble,: would take too long. Each rFader will have little difficulty in adding to this list peculiarities that he finds in 142 May, 1956 COMMUNITY. CROSSES himself and in others. How should one react to this situation? In the expressive phrase of the day, so what? Well, to all such complaints the answer could be given that these are things from which no man can be entirely free. This is not saying that nothing can be done about it. In the first place e~eryone should honestly examine himself. Those who may or should do so might call the matter to the attention of the thotightless one. But this is not an easy thing to do. For some reason or other, it is easier to call another's attention to a big blunder than to get oneself tocall his attention to some little fault of his. One hesitates to do so; and, meanwhile, the community will have to bear the cross. The best thing is for the educators to take the young people in hand, while they are still pliable and can take it, and get them onto the beaten path. This is. not saying, however, that the educators are always to blame when some of the.ir onetime students give evidence of a lack of. consideration for others. It seems that even stainless steel will rust if for a long time no atten-tion is given to it. So what? Quid ergo? 3ust be patient! Not much consolation, to be sure, but actually the only thing to do. Take the divine Savior Himself; see how He had to bear with the imperfections of those around Him. "What are you arguing about .among your-selves? . . . How long shall I put up with you?" (Mark~ 9:15, 18.) We simply must ,accustom ourselves to bear with equanimity the manifold imperfections of others, to tolerate their ways, even when they are diametrically opposed to our own views and wishes. Cer-tainly no one would venture to look upon himself as a model in these things, for the simple reason that no one is absolutely perfect. In Psalm 90 we read: "You shall tread upon the asp and the viper, you shall trample under foot the lion and the dragon," and we stumble over pebbles and get all excited over little peccadilloes! In this connection a "good resolution might be: to tread manfully upon the asp of peculiarities, the viper of abnormalities, the lion of idio-syncrasies, and the dragon of eccentricities. Plenty of them can be found in religious communities. St[ Paul tells us what to do: "Bear one another's burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks himself to be something, whereas he is noth-ing, he deceives himself. But let everyone test his own work, and so he will. have glory in himself only, and not in comparison with another. For each one will bear his own burden" (Gal[ 6:2-5). There are some zealous souls who think that the superior can 143 WINFRID HERBST without more ado, and as a matter of duty must, eliminate all the things that I am calling community crosses. But that is not at all as easy as one might think; moreover, it is often difficult to say who is r!ght. All of us are Wont glibly to say: "'Virtus star in medio.'" But just where is virtue's golden mean to be found~ab, there's the rub! How often we are taken in, cunningly deceived, by our own self-love and our own big or little weaknesses; and we complain about our brethren, and about our surroundings, and almost about Almighty God Himself, when in all truth we should be complain-ing about our own sensitiveness. Quite in place, then, is the ad-monition of the Imitation of Christ: "Try to bear patiently with the defects and infimities of others, whatever they may be, because you also have many a fault which others must endure. If you can-not make yourself what you would wish to be, how can you bend others to your will? We want others to be perfect, yet we do not correct our own faults. We wish them to be severely corrected, yet we will not correct ourselves. Their great liberty displeases us, yet we would not be denied what we ask. We would have them bound by laws, yet we will allow ourselves to be restrained in nothing. Hence, it is clear how seldom we think of others as we do of our-selves. If all were perfect, what should we have to suffer from others for God's sake?" (Bk. I, Ch. 16.) I think it sometimes happens that a religious runs to the superior to complain about these community crosses and, while doing so, mentions apologetically that, of course, they are just little things. If they are just little things, why not practice mortification by en-during them! And if the superior would rebuke for his own faults the complainant and measure the reprimand as he is asked to measure it out to others, what an uproar there would be! Here I cannot help thinking of these words which the ordaining bishop addresses to the clergy and the people with reference to the deacons about to be or-dained to the priesthood: "If anyone has anything against them, before God and for the sake of God let him confidently come for-ward and speak. However, let him be mindful of his condition." Many a complaint we would never make, were we mindful of our own pitiable failings and more concerned about what we our-selves ought to do in order not to lose face in that tremendous day of dread and day of judgment, when we stand before that all-just 3udge who once, as the all-merciful Savior, spokethe words: "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to cast a stone at her" (3obn 8:7). 144 Devot:ion t:o t:he Sac ;ed I-lead: C. A. Herbst, S.J. DEVOTION to the Sacred Heart is one of the great devotions in the Church. It is most characteristic of Christianity, be-cause it is devotion to Christ, to the whole Christ, represented by the most important organ of His humanity, His heart, which symbolizes His greatest virtue, His love. One can hardly conceive a devotion more proper to.religious whose very purpose is to make their lives as conformed as possible to Christ's through the practice of charity. That it is most fitting for religious to practice the devo-tion appears also from the fact that .our Lord complained expressly and specifically that it is religious who treat Him in shabby fashion, "hearts consecrated to me that treat me thus," that is, with ir-reverence and contempt. 'God became man, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity as-sumed a human nature, so that "we may be made partakers of His divinity, who vouchsafed to become partaker of our humanity," as we pray every day at the Offertory of the Mass. He wanted to be-come one of our human family so that we might with confidence draw close to Him. So in the many devotions to the sacred humanity of Christ which have naturally grown up as a result of the Incarnation there is a certain familiarity, though it be tempered with reverence. "There is a certain boldness of approach, a certain freedom of human lan-guage, a certain deeply reverential familiarity, yet still familiarity,, which distinguishes devotions to the Sacred Humanity. We have a distinct picture of the object of our worship in our minds which affects both our language and our feeling. Our Lord's assumption of our nature is a peculiar approach to us, to which we on our side have to correspond, and we correspond by this familiarity." (Faber, Bethlehem, ch. 4.) Since Christ is God, we offer His sacred humanity hypostatically united to the Word the same kind of worship we offer the Word Himself. This is divine worship, but of a kind "of which neither angels nor men could ever have dreamed without revelation, but which has been invented by God Himself." It has a character of its own, because based on created images and historical facts, and for this reason imprints on the soul a peculiar spiritual character with special force. The chief reason for which we worship Christ 145 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious in His mysteries "is the amount of the living spirit of Jesus which they both contain and communicate, contain in an inexhaustible measure and communicate according to the degree of our purity and fervor: and all holiness is but a transformation of us into the sub-stantial likeness of our Lord" (ibid.). We practice devotion to the various mysteries of Christ's life in order that we may come to know Him better arid love Him more. For the same reason we practice devotion to His sacred wounds, which place before our eyes His external sufferings, and to the Sac-red Heart, which manifests to us His internal sufferings. Such prac-tices are very valuable and help us imbibe the spirit of Christ, put on His virtues, and become inflamed with His affections. When enshrined in the sacred liturgy of the Church they have "no other object than that of acquiring this [true Christian] spirit from its foremost and indispensable fount, which is the active participation in the most holy mysteries and in the public and solemn prayer of the Cbu'r~h" (St. Pius'X, Motu Proprio, Nov. 22, 1903). Devotion to the Sacred Heart is one Of the last and most power-ful means God has given to save and sanctify men. "This devotion is a last effort df His love to save men in these latter days of His loving redemption" (St. Margaret Mary, Letter 133). In one of His apparitions to St. Margaret Mary, Christ said: "My divine Heart is so~ififlamed with love of men . . . that, being unable any longer to contain within Itself the flames of Its burning charity, It must.needs spread-them abroad . and manifest Itself to them [man-kind] in order to enrich them. with the precious treasures . . . which contain graces of sanctification and salvation necessary to withdraw them from the abyss of perdition" (Autobiography, no. 53). "He showed me that the ardent desire He bad of being loved by men and of drawing them from the path of perdition into which Satan was hurrying them in crowds, had caused Him to fix upon this plan of manifesting His Heart to men, together with all Its treasures of love, mercy, grace, sanctification and salvation. This He did in order that those who were willing to do all in their pov~er to render and procure for Him honor, love, and glory might be enriched abund-antly, even profusely, with these divine treasur'es of the Heart of God. It is the source of them all., It must 'be honored under the symbol of this Heart of flesh." (Herbst, The Letters of St. Mar-garet Mar~I Alacoque, 133.) "It must be honored under the symbol of this Heart of flesh." The heart of the God-Man, the ,heart formed by' His mother; the 146 May,. 19.56 DEVOTION TO THE sAcRED HEART "Heart of God," is the. material object of devotion to the Sacred Heart. ""Behold this Heart," our Lord said in the l~ist greag revela-tion He made to St. Margaret Mary. It is a physical heart, wounded and suffering. "After that I saw this divine Heart as on a throne of flames, more brilliant than the sun and transparent as crystal. It had its adorable wound and was encircled with a crown of thorns, which signified the pricks our sins caused Him. It .was sur-mounted by a-cross which signified that, from the first moment of His Incarnation, that is, from the time this Sacred Heart was formed, the cross was planted in It" (Letter ,133). He asked her for her heart "and placed it in His own adorable Heart" (Autobt'ography. no. 53). Of course we do not honor and adore the Sacred Heart of Christ as separated from His divine person. It is an essential part, the center, of the .life of the God-Man. '.'Jesus Christ, my sweet Master, presented Himself to me, all, resplendent with glory; .His five Wounds shining like so many suns. Flames issue from ever~r pair" of His Sacred Humanity, especially from His adorable Bosom, which re-sembled an open furnace and disclosed to me His most loving and most amiable Heart, which was the living source of these-flames" (ibid., no. 55). On December 2-7,. 1673, feast,of St. John, whom pious tradition assumes to have rested his head on our Lord,'s~breast at the Last Supper, "He made me repose for a long time.upon His Sacred Breast, where He disclosed to me the marvels.,.of His love and-the .inexplicable secrets of His .Sacred Heart, which so, .far He had concealed from., me. Then it was that, for the first time,. He opened to me His Divine Heart" (ibid:, no. 53). "~. .: The formal object of this devotion .is the love, of the Sadred Heart for men. "Behold this Heart, which, has loved, men so much, that It has spared, nothing, even to :exhausting and consuming Itself, in order to testify to them Its love'.' (ibid., no. 92): The heart is the natural symbol of love. -TO' it is attributed our love, our affections, Our interior dispositions. We are .said to love One with all our heart:, People are called, good-hearted or kind-hearted or great-hearted.'-We express tenderest affection when we.say: "I give you my heart." "My divine Heart," our. Lord said,. ".is so inflamed with lo.vef0r.men that it is.unable any longer to contain within Itself the flariaes of Its burning,charity.': He."disclosed to me His m6st loving and most ~miable Heart, which was the living source of these flames.It was-then, that He made~known to me the ineffable, marvels of his pure [love] and showed reel.to ,what-an 147 C. A. HERBST Reoiew [or Religious excess He had loved men" (ibid.; no. 55). This heart.is, presented to us as a heart that is wounded and bleed-ing and broken, a love that is unrequited, disregarded, spurned, re-ceived with ingratitude, and that even by religious. "And in return I receive from the greater number nothing but ingratitude by reason of their irreverence and sacrileges, and by the coldness and contempt which they show Me. in this Sacrament of Love. But what I feel the most keenly is that it is hearts which are consecrated to Me that treat Me thus" (ibid., no. 92). His heart, wounded, bleedir~g, encircled with thorns, surmounted with a cross, "was filled, from the'.very first moment, with all the bitterness, humiliation, poverty, sorrow, and contempt His sacred humanity would have to suffer during the whole course~of His life and during His holy Passion" (Letter 133). The natural appeal of a heart that is wounded and of a love that is unrequited is that we love it in return and make reparation to it. To this natural appeal our Lord adds an explicit request. He "showed me to what an excess He had loved men, from whom He received only ingratitude and contempt. 'I feel this more,' He said, 'than all that I suffered in My Passion. If only they would make-me some return for My love, I should think but little of all I have done for them and would wish, were it possible, to suffer still more. But the sole return they make for my eagerness to do them good is to reject Me and treat Me with coldness. Do thou at least console Me by supplying for their ingratitude, as far as thou are able" (Autobiography, no. 55). He asks that on a day espe-' cially set aside we honor His heart "by communicating on that day and making reparati6n to It by a solemn act, in order to make amends for the indignities which It has received during the time It has been exposed on the altars" (ibid., no. 92). Reparation is one of the most outstanding features in devotion to the Sacred Heart. St. Margaret Mary writes: "I think He will be very generous in granting you these [graces] if, by following the lights He gives you, you make reparation for the insults offered His adorable Heart" (Letter 14). Our Lord asks'for someone "who will most humbly ask pardon of God for all the offenses committed against Him in the Holy Sacrament of the altar" (Letter 50). The idea of reparation runs all through the new Mass and Office of the Sa~red Heart; and the Holy Father Pius XI, in.hisletter issued with them, says that "if this same Uncreated Love has either been passed over through forgetfulness or saddened by reason of our sins, then 148 May, 1956 DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART we should repair such outrages, no matter in what manner they have occurred . We are held to the duty of making reparation by ,the most powerful motives of justice and of love; of justice, in order to expiate the injury done God by our sins and to rfiestablish, by means of penance, the divine order which has been violated; and of love, in order to suffer together .with Christ, patient and covered ¯ with opprobrium, so that we may bring to Him, in so far as our human weakness permit~, some comfort in His sufferings." (Miser-antissimus Rederoptor, 1928). For this reason we have the feast of the Sacred Heart, the Communion Of reparation, the First Friday, the Holy Hour, even the Morning Offering. In the Act of Repar-ation prescribed for the feast of the Sacred Heart, we are "~eeking ¯ With special tribute ~f honor to atone for the sinful indifference of men and for the outrages heaped from every side upon Thy most Loving Heart." Consecration is important, too. In it "the intention to ex- Change for the love of the Creator the love of us creatures stands out most prominently" (Pius XI). The Holy Father Leo XIII ordered that an act of consecration especially written for the occa-sion be read in all the churches in the world on June I1, 1899. The substance of this consecration, ordered again by Pius XI in 1925 to be recited by all on the feast of Christ the King each year, is contained in the words: "We are Thine, and Thine we wish to be; but, to be more surely united with Thee, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to Why most Sacred Heart." This is an ot~icial expression of St. Margaret Mary's "I give and consecrate to the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ my per-son and my life, my actions, trials and sufferings," and of Blessed Claude Colombiere's "I give myself entirely to Thee, and henceforth I protest .most sincerely that I desire to forget myself and all that re-lates to me." All the elements of devotion to the Sacred Heart are wonder-fully' summed up in the prayer of the feast in June. "O God, Who dost deign mercifully to bestow upon us infinite treasures of love in the Heart of Thy Son, which was wounded for our sins; grant, we beseech Thee, that we who pay Him the devout homage of our piety, may in like manner show unto Thee our due of worthy satis-faction." It is to the looe for us of the human heart of Jesus wounded for sin that we want to render homage by consecration and make reparation. 149 C. A. HERBST : .': "Re~eu~ for Religious BIBLIOGRAPHY . Note. Thig'is a short, simple bibliography giving a few books written in English from which one can get a g6od, authentic knowledge of de;cot;on to the Sacred Heart. A brief description and app?eciation of each book is given. Autobiogr'alJh~ . Life of Saint Margaret Mar~ Alacoque. Trans-lation of the Authentic French Text by the Sisters of the Visitation. Roselands, Waimer, Kent. Visitation Library. 1952. Hei'der Co., St. Louis. This is an account of her own interior life ~ri~.ten by St. Margaret Mary under obedience about five years before her deash. It contains the great revelations the Sacred Heart made to' her. It is a small book of about 125 pag~ and the most authentic source of the devotion to the Sacred Hear~. He~bst, Clarence A., S.J. (Ed.) The Letters of Saint Margaret MaGI Alacoque. Translated from the French. With an Introduc-tory Essa~ by J. J. Doyle, S.J. Henry Regnery Company, Chicago. 1954. Next to the Autobiograph~t, this is a most authentic source of devotion t6 the Sacred Heart and supplements the Autobfographt.t. There are 142 letters, the most predominant ideas in them being fervent devotedness" to the Sacred Heart and an enthusiastic love of suffering for Him. Letters 130-139 were written to Father Croiset and form the basis for the book bt~ published on devotion to the Sacred Heart immediately after her death. C~oiset, John, S.J. The Deootion to the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ. The Newman Press, Westminster, Md. 1948. This work is based on the letters mentioned above. F~lther Croiset deliberately waited until after the death of St. Margaret Mary to publish his book s0"that h~ could preface it with.a life of her. This life covers some forty pages. After that are explained the disposi-tions and means necessary to acquire the devotion and the obstacles and means to overcome them. Then come motives, and practices for every yeaL month, week, day, and even hour.: The intimate connection betweefi devotion to the Sacred He~l~t"iafid th.e)Hol~r Eucbakist is~ brought out by explaining how to visitS:the Blessed Sacrain~nt,.he'ar M'~iss, and receive Holy Commuhion. MeditatiiJns for Friday "are given. In an appendix are given the complete prayers of St. Margaret Mary and others prayers to the Sacred Hefirt: Gall;fief; .3oseph d~, S.J; The 7~dor~ble Heart of Jesus. "With Preface and'Iiii~roduc'tion by.:Father Richard" Clarke; S.f." Burns and Oates, London. 1887. Father Gall;fret was a spiritual son of 150 May, 1956 DEVOTION TO THE SACRED I-IEART Blessed Claude de la Colombiere, the director of St. Margaret Mary. He wrote this book only thirty-six years after her death and spent his life in promoting devotion to" the Sacred Heart and working for the establishment of a feast in its honor. He explai'ns the origin, progress, and nature of the devotion ~and the excellence of its object and end. He goes on to the interior and exterior workshop of the Sa.cred Heart and to the devotion, feasts, office, and pictures of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary together. He is a theologian of the Sacred Heart. Bainvel, J. V., S.J.Devotion to the Sacred Heart. The Doctrine and Its History. Translated from the Fifth French Edition by E. Leahy. Edited by Reverend George O'Neill, S.J., M.A. Burns Oates and Washbourne, Ltd., London. 1924. This is a classi-cal exposition of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, written by a learned scholar and theologian. He ~first )resentg the devotion as revealed by the Sacred Heart in the great apparitidn.s to St. Margaret Mary, then explains the practices, spirit, and promises: There fol-low. doctrinal explanations on the meaning and object of the de-votion, its historical, dogmatic, and philosophical foundations, and on love as its speciaI act. Its historical development from the be-ginnings through the middle ages to early modern times is given, and the new impetus given by St. Margaret Mary. For the most recent and crowning glory given the devotion by the Holy Father Pius XI we go to a more recent book. McGratty. Arthur R., S.J. The Sacred Heart Yesterday and Today. Benziger. Chicago. 1951. This is the more receht book, written by the national director of the Apostleship of Prayer. It gives the nature of the dbvotion and its bistory tbrou~b tbe Re-formation. After a chapter on St. John Eudes; it explains the de-votion as given to St. Margaret 'Mary in the great app.aritions, Blessed Claude de la Colombiere's connection with it, and the Sac-red Heart Badge. After the defeat of Jansenism and the nineteenth-century advance, we come to the times of Leo XIII and Plus X[ when the whole world is consecrated to the Sacred Hoart and de- ;;;Orion to ti4e Sacred He'art has become the world'~ d'~votidn. At the. end of the book is a select bibliography which wiilriehly sup-plement the meager one given here. 151 For Your Informal:ion Shadowbrook Fire Three priests and a lay brother died in a fire which destroyed Shadowbrook, the 3esuit novitiate and juniorate at Lenox, Mass., in the early morning of March i0. The victims were Fathers Stephen A. Mulcahy, Henry B. Muollo, Arthur B. Tribble, and Brother Henry A. Perry. Among six who were hospitalized with burns and other injuries was Father 3ohn R. Post, master of novices and one of our consistent contributors. The more than one hundred novices and juniors have since been "adopted" temporarily by the Jesuit novitiates in neighboring provinces. Plans for a new Shadowbrook are already under way. Revised Hospital Directives A second, and revised, edition of Ethical and Religious Directioes for Catholic Hospitals was recently published by the Catholic Hos-pital Association of the United States and Canada. The revision in-cludes not only clarification of a few somewhat obscure provisions of the first edition but also new matter concerning professional sec-recy, experimentation, ghost surgery, psychotherapy, shock-therapy, unnecessary procedures, and the spiritual care of non-Catholics. An appendix contains abundant reference material, with apt references to recent statements of the Holy See. There is also a detailed alpha-betical index. An especially useful aspect of the revised edition is that the individual directives are numbered consecutively, thus fa-cilitating reference to the booklet. The price per copy is 25 cents; quantity prices are available. A set of six booklets, including the Directioes and five small volumes of Medico-Moral Problems by Gerald Kelly, S.J., can be obtained for $2.50. Order from: The Catholic Hospital Association, 1438 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 4, ¯ Missouri. Franciscan Poems The Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure, N. Y., has just pub-lished Where Caius Is, a small book of poems by Sister Mary Francis, P.C., who wrote the article on St. Thomas Aquinas, "The Silence and the Song," published in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1955. Sister Mary Francis has also published two plays, Counted as Mine and Candle in Umbria, and a smaller book of poems entitled Whom I Have Loved. The new book (Where Caius Is) may be obtained From the Franciscan Institute or from: Rev. Mother M. Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of O.L. of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 152 FOR YOUR INFORMATION 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. Price: $1.75. Vocation Insfifutes The tenth annual Vocation Institute will be held at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame, July 12-15. For information, write .to: Rev. John J. Doherty, C.S.C., the Vocation Instituge, Notre Dame, Indiana. On July 25-26, the sixth annual Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Vocations will be held on the campus of Fordham Uni-versity. Priests, religious, and laity are invited to attend. A special week-long workshop for mistresses of novices is also planned. Ad-dress all communications to: Rev. John F. Gilson, S.J., Fordham University, New York 58, N. Y. Summer Sessions Special courses in the sacred sciences will be offered for religious this summer at St. Bonaventure University. These courses (includ-ing dogma, moral theology, liturgy, ascetics, Sacred Scripture, etc.) will be designed to assist the teacher of religion on the college, high-school, and grade-school level. A course in canon law for religious superiors and directors of religious vocations will include the teach-ing of the Church regarding the reception and profession of religious, the government of religious communities, privileges and obligations of religious. Sisters of Franciscan communities will have the oppor-tunity of taking classes in Franciscan theology and spirituality. Registration will be on June 30. All graduate courses lead to the master's degree. Those who are not qualified for degrees may ob-tain a certificate in theolbgy provided they fulfill the other require-ments. For additional information, write to: Director of Summer School of Theology, St. Bonaventure, N. Y. In its summer session of June 18-July 27, St. Louis University will pioneer in the United States in presenting Kerygmatic Theology as academic courses. Father J. Hofinger, S.J., a noted lecturer in this "new" theology, will teach tWO classes (both 3 credit-hour courses), one on basic doctrine, the other on method and discussion. Other standard religion courses will also be offered. For further informa-tion on this and other summer sessions, write to: Director of the Summer Sessions, St. Louis Uniyersity, St. Louis 3, Missouri. The Creighton University continues with its cycle of graduate-level courses in theology for religious. The offerings this summer include courses on the Incarnation and Redemption, on the New Testament and St. Paul, on principles of moral guidance, and on 153 FOR YOUR INFORMATION Review for Religious fundamental theology. Six h6urs of advanced nursing will be available. Besides these and the standard summer-session courses, there will be many workshops. For the workshop on liturgical music in conjunction with Boys Town, see below. Creight6n'~s summer faculty includes several religious as guest lecturers: from the Bene-dictines, Dominicans, Franciscans, Sisters of Charity of the B.V.M., Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and the Servants of Mary. For a complete list of the workshops and for other information, write to: Director of the Summer Session, Creighton University, Omaha 2, Nebraska. Boys Town will hold its fourth annual workshop in liturgical music, under the director of inusic, Father Francis P. Schmitt. The dates are August 20-31, inclusive. This two-week workshop will include a survey of liturgy and liturgical music, reading and per-formance of materials and chant, polyphonic and modern liturgical music. Rich library facilities and extensive consultant service will be provided. Boys Town conducts this workshop in conjunction with the Creighton University, thus offering an opportunity to quali-fied persons to earn three college credits. Address all inquiries to: Rev. Francis P. Schmitt, Director of Music, Boys Town, Nebraska. A summer school in theology for religious will be;held at the University of Ottawa, July 2--August 7. Courses this year will be on the Triune God, the sacraments, creation and providence, and the Christian virtues. For detailed information, write to: Director of the Summer Scho61, University of Ottawa, Ottawa 2, Canada. The Institute of Theology for Religious Wc~men, offered in co-operation with the. Dominican Fathers, will be held in Immaculata College, Iha~actilata, Pennsylvania, June 27--TAugust 8. A pro-gram of four summer sessions" leads to a certificate in Thomistic Theology, Sacred Scripture, and Canon Law. The presqribed courses in the realm 6f'sacred sciences furnish an excellent background for religious teache~[ " Summer of 1956--the first and ~econd year pro-grams will beoffered.Residence facilities will be available. For further information address: The Director of Summ~'r Session, Im-macfilata Col.lege, Immaculata, Pennsylvania. MidnigM" Mass on Christmas in Religious and P!ous. Houses Can. 821, § 3, ~eads: "But in all religious houses and pious homes,"if "they have an oratory with the right of ~habitual reserva-tion. of the Most Blessed~Eucharist, on Christmas.night one priest may celebrate"the:three Masses of the liturgy.or,, observing the usual 154 Ma~!, 1956 FOR YOUR .|NFORMATION regulations, a single Mass, at which all present can satisfy their obligation of hearing .Mass, and at which the priest may distribute Holy Communion to those who request it." 1. Admitted interpretation in the past. The privilegeof having such Masses is granted by the Code of Canon Law, and no further permission of ecclesiastical authority is required for its use; The privilege extends to all religious houses, formal or non-formal, of any religious institute, whether an order or a congregation, exempt or non-exempt, clerical or lay, pontifical or diocesan, of men or women, and likewise to all houses of societies living in common without public vows and to those of secular institutes. The privi-lege applies equally to all piou~ homes. These areinstitutions de-voted to pious works, especially of mercy and charity, e.g., hospitals, orphanages, homes for the aged, schools, seminaries. Prisons are also included, since the chaplain devotes himself to ~he reform and rehabilitation of the inmates. It is not necessary that these insti-tutions be directed by or depend strictly on ecclesiastical authority nor that they be in the care of religious. The oratory of habitual reservation of the Blessed Sacrament may be semipublic or public. One, two, or three Masses may be celebrated, but by the one priest. Mass may be begun at any time after, but not before, midnight. 2. PractiCal poir~t that was doubtful in the past. On Novem-o bet 26, 1908, the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office declared that it was not permitted to celebrate such Masses "with the doors of the oratory open." This restriction was not included in can. 821~ ~ 3, and both canonists and moralists have disagreed as to whether the restridtion remained in force after the Code of Canon Law became effective on May 19, 1918. The restriction forbade the admission (;f .tb.e general public but not of a small number of externs nor of invited guests. :.:. 3. Autboritatit~e solution of the doubt. An. apostolic nuncio submitted, the.following q.uestion-to the Pontifical Commission for. the Interpretation of the Code of Canon Law: "After the promul-gation of the CodeofCanon Law, does the declaration .of the Holy OffiCe ~f November. 26, -1908, " .oncerning the first question [cele-. brating with,the doors, open] remain .always .valid with regard to. the use of the faculty authorized by can. 821, § 3;. and if in the. ~ffirmative~ does this imply, the exclusion, of externs from,assistance at: the midnight .Mass bn Christmas?.': His. Eminerice~. th~:;late.Car-. 155 QUESTIONS AND'ANSWERS Review for Religious dinal Massimo Massimi, then president of the Commission, gave the following interpretation on March 5, 1954, Prot. N. 1/54: "One cannot see how it can be maintained that in the sacred func-" tions of which the aforesaid canon speaks externs may not be ad-mitted and still less that the doors may not be kept open, since there is no trace of such a prohibition in this same canon which regulates the matter." This reply, although not as yet officially promulgated, is to be considered as authentic, general, and merely declarative of the sense of the canon, as is obvious from the words of the reply. There-fore, it is now certain that canon law places no restriction whatever on the admission of externs to the Masses in question. Cf. Ochoa, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 33 ( 1954), 329-52 ; Bergh, Nouvelle Reoue Tb~ologique, 77 (1955), 188-90; Revue des Communaut~s Religieuses, 27 (1955), 111-13; La Vie des Communaut~s Re-ligieuses, 13 (1955), 263-64. ( ues ions and Answers ml7-- Is the quinquennial Repod" fo the Holy See due in 19567 Father Ellis explained this report in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 8 (1949), 234-40; 10 (1951), 20-24. The following is a sum-mary of his articles. 1. Who must make this report in 19567 All congregations of brothers; all superiors general of religious institutes of women in all the countries of North, Central, and South America; and the higher superioresses of independent monasteries or houses of the same countries. The superioresses general of societies of common life, sec-ular institutes, and confederations throughout the world will dis-charge this obligatibn in 1957. 2.Lan. guage in which the report is to be ~vritten. Brothers and religious women may use the vernacular, that is, English, French, German, Italian, or Spanish. 3. May it be typed? The report should be typed if at all pos-sible. If written by hand, the handwriting must be clear and good ink used. Good bond paper, not too heavy, and not translucent should be used. 4. Merely number question. Merely put the number of the question before the answer; db not repeat the question before the 156 Maq, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS answer. 5.Method of a~swering. Answer the questions with a complete sentence, not with a mere "yes" or "no." . 6. Time of handing in. The report may be handed in any time .during 1956, but it should cover the five-year period from ! 9.51-55, inclusive. 7. Signing the report. The superior general and all the general councilors must sign the report. 8. To wbbm t's report sent? After it has been authenticated b~r the signature of the local ordinary of the mother house, the rep0rt is sent by pontifical institutes directly-to the Rev. Segretario, S.Con: gregazione dei Religiosi, Palazzo delIe Congregazioni, Piazza S. Cal-listo, Roma, Italia. All diocesan institutes and independent monas-terles and houses.are to send their report to the local ordinary of their motlqer house. When he has read it, he will add his comments and S~fid the report to the S. Congregation of Religious. If the diocesan congregation has houses in other dioceses, the local ordinary of the mother house must send copies of the report to these, local-ordinaries and, after receiving their comments, add them to his own before se.nding the report to the S. Congregation. " 9. Where ma~. copies of tbb"report be obtained? Copies may be o~Dined fo, r $1.50 from the Rev. Ar.chlvlsta, S. Congregazmne Rel!giosi, e.tc., as above in n. 8. The questions for pontifical insti-i: utds' are obtainable from this source in Latin, English, French, Ger-man, Italian, and Spanis.h; those for diocesan in'stitu'tes and inde-p~ endent monasteries' and houses only in Latin. 10. In what other sources can.the, r~;vort be found? T'he report for pontifical institutes is found in English in the REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 9 (.1950), 52-56: 108-12; 166-68; 209-24; 269-79, and also in'B0uscaren, Canon Law Digest, III, 162-203. The re-port for diocesan institutes in English is found in Creusen, Religious Men and Women in the Code, 5th ed., 278-316, and in French in "La Vie des Communaut& Religieuses, .8. (1950), 257-88. The re-port for .independent monasteries.and houses in E.nglish is found in {he REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 13 (1954), 251-269, and in French in Revue des Communaut~s Retigieuses, 24 (1952), 3-16. --18- ,,We offer two Holy Communions for any deceased member of our In-stitute. However, Ihave been instructed more than once that no one can offer a Communion for ~no+her. Holy Communion as a suffrage for the. dead is a common and 157 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~iew ~or Religious ancient practice in religious institutes and also among the faithful in general. A Communion received for another does not effect grace in the other person ex opere operato. The intention in a Communion received as a suffrage for the dead is to obtain the deliverance of a soul from the pains of purgatory. The influence of Communion to this effect is ex opere operantis, by way of merit de congruo, im-petration,. and satisfaction, and also by the application of any in-dulgences attached to the Communion and applicable to the souls in purgatory. The fervor of prayer and its impetrhtory value are usually greater because of the reception of the Eucharist. The satisfactory value arises from the increase of divine charity effected by Communion and also because Communion contains the note of something diffi-cult and contrary to the inclination of nature. Since the union with God in Holy Communion is highly conducive to the increase of these values, it is evident that Holy Communion as a suffrage for the dead is a most commendable practice. Cf. Van Noort, De Sacra-mentis, I, n. 397; Doronzo, De Sacramentis, I, 733-35: Beraza, De Novissimis, n. 1268. Are exempf religious ob]iged ÷o say 7o Mass collecfs prescribed (ora-flones imperatae) by fhe local ordinary? All priests, diocesan or religious, even if exempt (S. R. C., 2613, ad 1; 3036, ad 5: can. 612), also if they are visiting priests and do not reside in the diocese, are obliged to say the orationes imperatae in any church or oratory, even private,, within the diocese in which it is prescribed. (Cf. J. O'Connell, The Celebration of Mass, 189; Hecht, Rubricae Generales Missalis, 48; Hebert, Lecons de Liturgie, II, 203.) The local ordinary may establish that the irnperata is to be omitted on more days than those stated in the rubrics. (S. R. C. Lauretana, December 14, 1927.) A pad he may also exempt places that are not exempted by the rubrics. If he has not expressly done either, these prayers are to be said according to the norms of the rubrics, which are given above with regard to person and place. While the obligation is clear, it is also a fact that at least very many priests find the orationes imperatae of prolonged duration highly monotonous, annoying, and a complicating factor in Mass. It is frequently stated by commentators that in the spirit o~ the General Decree on the Simplification of the Rubrics of March 23, 1955, orationes imperatae should now be prescribed less frequently and for lesser periods of time. A quick analysis of the general de-cree will reveal that a prolonged imperata is not in keeping With the 158 Ma~ , 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS evident purposes of the decree of decreasing ~omplications, reducing the number of prayers, of lessening monotony, and eliminating ex-traneous elements in both the Mass and the Divine Office. A prolonged oratio imperata pro re gravi also loses its nature of a special petition. 20 In our concjrecjafion no one makes a will. Aren't we oblicjed by canon law to make wills? This is a case of disturbed and even disturbing ignorance of canon law. A will is a disposition in whole or in part of the property that one will own at death by an act that is revocable until death and effective only at death. All novices in all congregations and also in monasteries of nuns of only simp.le vows, whether they actually own property or not, before their first profession and consequently in the last weeks (about the last month) of the noviceship, must make a will for all property that they then actually own and that they may own in the future. If for any reason the will was not made during the noviceship, it is to be made after first profession and as soon as possible. Those who made profession before the Code of Canon Law (May 19, 1918) are not obliged to make a will. At least .if they actually own property, they are to be most strongly urged to do so. The subject is perfectly free in the determination of the dis-positions of the will. Novices in orders (institutes of solemn vows) are not obliged to make a will, but they may do so. They also are to be strongly urged to make a will, at least if they actually own property and especially if the interval between the noviceship and solemn pro-fession is very long. A novice destined for only simple perpetual vows in an order should make a will. The will of novices destined for the solemn or an equivalent simple vow of poverty will be ef-fective only if they die before taking such a vow, since the solemn profession takes away all property rights. The will is to be made even if the novice does not actually own property, i. e., he is then to make the will only for property that he may acquire in the future. Even if they are under age and their wills are invalid by civil law, the novices are to make a will, which will oblige by canon law and in conscience. When they reach the requisite age, they are to make ,the will in a form that is civilly valid: but they are not to change the dispositions without the necessary permission. It is illicit but not invalid to change the dispositions of a will without the permission ordinarily of. the Holy See; but, if the case 159 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious is urgent and" there is no time for recourse to the Holy See, without the permission of a higher superior; and, if recourse cannot be made to a higher superior, without that.ofthe local superior. A novice made his temporary profession on August 18, 1953. May he make his perpetual profession on August IS, 19S6, when all the others of his group will be making their perpetual vows.'? If .he does, his perpetual profession, whether solemn or simple, will be .certainly and evidently invalid. Canon law demands three ,full years of temporary vows for the validity of any perpetual pro-fession.~ The time in this case expirep on the anniversary day (August 18, 1953-August 18,¯ 1956). The time in this and all of the fol-lowing cases is computed physically, mathematically, not morally. Therefore, if the perpetual profession in the preceding case is made on August 17 and only an hour or only a minute is lacking to August 18, the perpetual profession is certainly and evidently invalid. ¯ The. time is completed on the day" following in these cases, in all of which the duration is required for validity: the complete year required for the validity of the noviceship (August 1~4, 1955-August 15, 1956) ; 'the fifteen complete years of age required for the validity of the canonical year of no,ciceship (~August 14, 1941-August 15, 1956); the sixteen required for any temporary profession (August 14, 1940-August 15, 1956); the twenty-one for perpetual profes-sion, whether solemn or simple (August 14, 1935-August 15, 19~6) ; the forty required for a superior or superioress general and for a superioress of a monastery of nuns (August 14, 1916-August 15, 1956) ; the thirty for other higher superiors (August 14, 1926- August 15, 1956); the ten complete years from first profession re-quired for any higher superior (August 14, 1946-August 15, 1956). The following are computed in the same way as in the preced-ing paragraph but are required only for liceity: the postulancy (Feb-ruary 14, 1956-August 15, 1956) ; the thirty-five years of age usu-ally required by the constitutions for general officials and" demanded by the Code for'the master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1921- August 15, 1956); the thirty years commonly required by the con-stitutions for local superiors and demanded by the Code for the as-sistant master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1926- August 15., 1956); the ten years from first profession required by the Code for the master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1946-August 15, t956) and the five years also demanded by the Code for the assistant master or mistress of novices (August 14, 1951-August 15, 1956). 160 Mar , 195~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Unless the particular law of the institute states otherwise, a noviceship of two years is completed on the second anniversary (August 15, 1954-August. 15, 1956). The'same principle is true ofa noviceship of eighteen months. When the constitutions demand a greater duration than that required by the Code for validity, this added duration is prescribed only for liceity unless the constitutions certainly state that it is necessary for validity. This principle is true of a noviceship of eighteen months or two years, of temporary vows prescribed for four, five, or six years, of a greater age for the profes-sions, for the office of higher superior, or of added years of profession demanded for this same office~ For example, can. 504 requires that the provincial have completed his thirtieth year for the validity of his appointment or election. If the constitutions demand thirty-five years of age, the added five years are required only for liceity. Time is especially to be .watched with regard to the noviceship and temporary profession. The first canonical maxim of the novice-ship is that an invalid noviceship renders any subsequent profession invalid. The first canonical maxim of temporary profession is that a temporary profession of less than three full years renders the per-petual profession invalid. The first canonical maxim of all these cases of time is that time is computed physically, mathematically, not morally. A candidate appl!ed for our institute who had been born of a mixed marriacje and baptized a Catholic in'infancy. The Catholic parent died durincj his infancy, and he was then broucjht up ,~s an Episcopalian. lie was converted to the Catholic Church'at tfi~ ~.cje of fifteen. Is he af-~ fected by the impediment of, "those who have renounced the C;atholio faith and joined a non-C:atholie sect (c. 542; '1 o)?. An impediment is to be strictly interpreted, i. e., its extension is to be confined to the narrowest sense possible within the proper meaning of the wording of the law (c 19).'Therefore, those bap-tized as Catholics, whether their parents were Catholics or non- Catholics, but brought up from irlfar~cy in heresy, schism, infidelity, or without any religion and who were later converted to the Cath-olic Church are not included in this impediment of can. 542, 1", which demands that the subject have. knowi.~gt~ pro~fessed the Cath-