Suchergebnisse

Issue 41.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1982. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OOS. 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: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. 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., 1982 Volume 41 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I"OR RE~.IGIOUS; 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 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints shoul.d be ordered from Rt:v,Ew Vo8 RE~oIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindetl Blvd.; St. L~uis, 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 41, 1982 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 © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The Art of Wasting Time: Thoughts on the Expropriation of Leisure James W. Heisig Father Heisig, of the Society of the Divine Word, is a Permanent Fellow of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, General editor of its book series on East-West thought and Associate Professor of Humanities at the Nan:an University. His address: Nan:an Institute for Religion and Culture: 18, Yamazato-cho. Showa-ku: Nagoya, Japan'. In modern industrialized nations, time is thought of as an investment commodity with a fluid market value. The power of time to cure all ills that the ancient Greek proverb celebrated has been drained from it to reduce time to disposable mer-chandise within our control. Some people's time is now worth more than other people's time because they know how to use time .profitably, that is, to achieve maximum production with minimum consumption. The ideal management of time is measured by cost-benefit analysis. As a consumer commodity, time is also unevenly distributed: some people now possess more time than others, which they are free to invest wisely or foolishly. It does not take much reflection to appreciate how the metaphor of "annual income,"the most Oniversal measure of the relative value of time, has crept its way into the modern imagination and laden words once rich in personal meanings with the double entendre of economic connotations. And that is as true in the world of business as it is in the world of religious or humanitarian devotion to an ideal. We hear it said that the fund~.mental shock occasioned by the increased pace of modei'n living is that shorter and shorter periods of time enable us to achieve the same things that former civilizations took much longer to achieve, which in turn produces the need for constant novelty. In fact, we do notachieve the same things at all. By submitting time and human needs to new s.tandards, the quality of life 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 itself has been altered and important spiritual values siphoned off as waste. The trip across the Sinai that took the ancient Israelites forty years to complete would hardly take forty minu~tes today from t~ikeoff to landing. But whereas their voyage was a.journey that transformed a band of refugees into a people of God, ours is reduced to a mere change of location that takes place too quickly to effect any but the most superficial of insights. For us, time wasted in travel, in the use of outmoded tools, and in the inefficient use of resources and personnel is money flushed down the drain. On the one hand, time well spent promises the reward of time to spare; but on the other, the time that we have saved is only of value if it, too, is well spent. The result is that leisure has become a luxury item, with less to be found among workers today than there was among the slaves of ancient Greece and Rome. In such circUmstances, it has become easy to market time-measuring devices for popular use that approximate the precision of scientific equipment. A wrist-watch that takes time to wind and has to be reset once a week is an anachronism to the modern mind. The practical advantages of such accuracy are fictitious, but the ideological advantage is very real. We are so firmly locked into the modern myth of time that the thought of unclocking oneself, even for the purposes of relaxation, has become the moral equivalent of undressing in public. The idea of time that has colonized the habits of thought that gird the institu-tions of modem society--school, church, business, entertainment, travel, health care, politics, social action--has wrought a spiritual impoverishment on our native sensibilities. The reverence for free time Freizeit and leave from labor (leisure) has not disappeared, but its motivations have shifted. The important wisdom that time belongs among the "best thing~ of life" that cannot be bought and sold, that belong to all of us as our common human right, and that are their own reward, is in peril. The expropriation of leisure by the consumer ethos is one of the most harmful ideas that pollute modern consciousness and obstruct the construction of an equitable and sustainable global community. Instead of having time for oneself, time for the earth, and time for the human race, we have become content with having time to consume the goods and services manufactured in other sectors of society. We have come to think of time as a nonrenewable resource, and lost the art of wasting it lavishly for our spiritual well-being. Deliverance from this state of affairs begins with learning to make transparent the myth of time that we inhabit unawares. And onestep in that direction, it seems to me, is to have a look at some of the things we no longer seem to have much time for. Time for Oneself The story is told of a certain clergyman who went to see the famous psycholo-gist, C. G. Jung, complaining of an impending nervous breakdown. His story was a familiar one. Working fourteen hours a day to fill up his life of service with meaning, he found only a spiritual tiollowness to his work. The harder he worked, the more tasks he took on, the more his nerves stood on end, threatening at any moment to shatter through the fragile mask of the busy pastor and expose his The Art of Wasting Time hypocrisy. 3ung's advice was simplicity itself; he was to work a mere eight-hour day, go home and spent his evenings quietly in his study alone. Unconvinced of the wisdom of .lung's counsel, but sufficiently agonized to have no other recourse, the man made up his mind to follow the prescription to the letter. He worked his eight hours, returned to the parish house for supper, then retired behind the closed doors of his study for the rest of the evening. Some time later he returned to see .lung, reporting that, alas, the remedy had been a complete failure. Spiritually he was worse off than before, and the parish had fallen into disarray for want of attention. He had done everything just as he had been told, but to no avail. "What did you do in your study?" Jung asked. "Well, let's see, the first night I finished a Herman Hesse novel and listened to some Chopin l~tu~les. After that I read some Thomas Mann and listened to a Mozart sonata. Next I . . ." "But you didn't understand," .lung broke in. "I didn't want you to spend your time reading novels and listening to music. I wanted you to be alone with yourself.""Oh, but 1 couldn't stand it. i make such bad company," the pastor replied. "Aha! Now we see the problem," said .lung. "That very self that you can't stand for even a short period is the same self you have been inflicting on others for fourteen hours a day.~ The pastor's problem and the way he set out trying to cure it both belong to a level of cultural development that can only be called elite. The freedom to opt for a fourteen:l~our work day and drive oneself to psychological tatters, and then to reduce one's time of labor by 40% for the sake of spiritual hygiene; the possibility of consulting a professional therapist and paying for the service; the ability to read classic literature and appreciate classical music--all of these things belong to a style of life unthinkable to the great masses of humanity, who do not work for ends supererogatory to survival that can be dispensed with when body or soul collapses, but work to keep alive, and great numbers of them successfully. I do not mean to imply that the man's problem was not a real one, or that it should be classified, along with cosmetic surgery and Caribbean cruises, as needs bred of boredom or surfeit. I mean only that, like all spiritual problems, its roots reach over into problematic social structures as well, whose repair requires more attention to one's own soul. Of this, more shall be said later. What 'lung showed the pastor about himself, and what many of those who share his general cultural field can readily identify with, is that people will often go to extraordinary lengths to avoid having to look at themselves without a role to play. The crises of meaninglessness.that had attacked his work spread over into his leisure because of a common fundamental bias that value can only be generated by keeping busy at a socially acceptable task. In each case, he fled what he feared would do him more harm than anything else: his deep dislike of himself. In his work, the pretense of altruism threw up a thick smoke screen, almost as if deliber-ately to cloud the problem; and in his leisure the pretense of polishing up his education protected and reinforced the hollow ideals he could never quite recog-nize as his own. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Before one embraces those words as a commanded task, they need first to be accepted as a statement of fact: like it or not, one cannot love another if one does not first love oneself. And 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 there is no way to love oneself if one does everything possible to avoid spending time with oneself. The pastor's abuse of leisure meant that leisure was not a freeing time but an enslaving time. Instead of serving as a re-creational balance to the creativity of his work, it bound him more firmly to the estrangement he felt between his own innermost beliefs and his outward devotedness. The proper use of leisure, on the other hand, demands the capacity to turn solitariness into solitude, not to dread it as a mere isolation from things that have value. If there are human values that daily life and work sterilize conscience against, and if those values are truly the eradicable imprint of the divine on the soul of each individual, then the deliverance of the human from the inhumanity of which it is capable begins with a transforma-tion in perspective metanoia towards oneself. And that takes time, leisure time. To be denied that time to waste on oneself, or to deny it to oneself, is to forsake redemption from the common habits of evil that we all participate in unawares. Time for the Earth A second dimension on which our~modern myth of time has expropriated the functions of leisure is that of our relationship to nature. In order to get to the core of this problem, 1 should like to cite a story from the Inner Chapters bf Chuang- Tzu, the Chinese mystic and Taoist philosopher of the fourth century before the Christian era. It is a story about a certain master carpenter named Stone and his apprentice, and how they happened one day to encounter the truth about worth-less trees. It seems that on one of their voyages the two chanced to pass by a gigantic oak tree standing by a local village shrine. The young apprentice stopped short and stood aghast with awe at the towering majesty of the tree, whose trunk he thought must measure a hundred spans in girth, and whose branches were so immense that at least ten of them he reckoned could surely be carved into boats. But the master Stone just stalked off ahead without so much as giving the tree a second glance. Catching him up, the apprentice inquired of him why a carpenter should pass up such timber, more splendid than any he had seen since taking up his axe. "Stop!" the master rebuked him. "The tree is useless. A boat made from it would sink, a coffin would soon rot, a tool would split, a door would ooze sap, and a beam would have termites. It is worthless timber and is of no use. That is why it has reached such a ripe old age." That night the oak,tree appeared to the carpenter Stone in a dream and complained of being compared with useful trees that are stripped and pruned and robbed of their fruits or cut down in their prime because they attract the attentions of the common world. "As for me, I have been trying for a long time to be useless. I was almost destroyed several times, Finally I am useless, and this is very useful to me. if I had been useful, could 1 have.ever grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things. How can one thing judge another thing? What does a dying and worthless man like you know about a worthless tree?" The next day, when the °The Art of Wasting Time apprentice heard of the dream, he was puzzled. "If it had so great a desire to be useless, why does it serve as a shrine?" This time the master took up. the cause of the tree. "It is just pretending to be one so that it will not be hurt by those who do not know that it is useless. If it had not been a sacred tree, it would probably have been cut down. It protects itself in a different way from ordinary things. We will miss the point if we judge it in the ordinary way." Let us say the carpenter Stone, with his "ordinary way" of looking at things, is a type of technological men and women whose tools have so eclipsed their direct contact with nature that they can no longer revere the world except as something "useful" for their equipment. As the tree reminds the carpenter in his dream, however, there are values that go beyond the useful, beyond the values that civilizations assign to things when they judge them to be worth our "while." These values reach deep beneath the differences that separate the human from the rest of the earth, to the point of geocentric unity that was broken with the anthropocent-ric revolt against being merely a thing among other things. They reach beyond the divisions of means and ends into which people classify everything about them. Insight into such values begins with learning t9 listen to the earth, something whose importance we are only now rediscovering after a century of industrial progress. Even so, we have the greatest of difficulty in unplugging ourselves from the apparatus we have built to mediate our way to nature. The world is still viewed by and large as raw material for human civilization. We struggle to keep our environment free of pollution because we fear the spread of disease among people and the poisoning of our food. We lobby against the mindless pillage of forests because we fear the effects of soil erosion on our buildings and landscaping. We protect the wilderness because we need somewhere to "get away from it all." These are reasons that make sense to a civilized mind, but do not satisfy it quite yet. We still want more sense than that. Increasing numbers (especially those for whom there is no economic danger involved) are finding it therapeutic to sympathize with the plight of species endangered by hunting or the destruction of natural habitats. Others are relearning to use the tools that scientific advance had thought to render into museum pieces. Something like a spirituality of the earth is coming to birth, but its douleurs d'enfantement are spasmodic and uncomfortable in the extreme. Perhaps the major reason that the developed industrial nations of the world do not yet have time for the earth is that their livelihood depends on a world frag-mented according to its utility for tools, and on a work force of specialists who literally feed off of one or the other fragment. The kit of tools that provides us with our ordinary way of looking at the earth functions not only because it represents a considerable extension of the power of the human body--legs into automobiles, voices into radio waves, eyes into telescopes, arms into cranes, and so forth, in the great caricature that humanity has made of its own image--but also because it succeeds in devaluing any other way of looking at life and work. While this has made impressive leaps in scientific and technical progress possi-ble, it has also taken its toll on the human spirit in the form of a massive addiction I~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 to packaged, processed experiences of the earth. We seek respite from the drudgery of working at our own specialized task only to find ourselves consuming the product of someone else's specialization. The woman who sits from morning to night on an assembly line at a canning factory learns to put up with the boredom and servility of her labor by concentrating on the privileges it will give her through the money she earns. Come vacation time, she happily skips into a great steel can sealed in Los Angeles and opened in Hawaii, clutching her five-nights-six-days-cut- rate-holiday plan around which she has organized her hopesof regaining some of the dignity she had to forfeit in order to afford the trip in the first place. She may well spend her whole life without noticing 'that she is being sold on the earth in entertainment-packages by an industry that depends on people not being able to experience the beauties and pleasures of nature without their help. Such contact with nature, far from helping one to recover the basic human demand for creativity and meaning in work, only reinforces the same feelings of impotence, ignorance, and strangeness in the face of the complex machinery and bureaucracy that has come between people and the earth. From the point of view of those who have forgotten that demand, such time may be considered very well spent, very useful, and very recreational. But it is not the freeing time of leisure because it does not so much as waste a moment on trying to step outside the ordinary way of looking at the earth, to see nature once again from the inside as it were, as something valuable in itself. Time for the Human Race In addition to the estrangement from oneself and estrangement from the earth, there is a third dimension on which our myth of time has expropriated the dower of wasted time, namely estrangement from our own race. We who compose essays on electric typewriters and subscribe to journals on the spiritual life tend to forget that the technology we take for granted is still experienced as an oppression by the vast majority of human beings. Consciously it is felt as the oppression of neglect at the hands of those who dwell in the economic penthouses of the global commun-ity. Unconsciously it is felt as the oppression of envy for the equipment and the life style of affluence and the accompanying disgust with their own primitive enjoy-ments. For all the commonsense wisdom contained in the counsel that money cannot buy happiness, and that more often than not it only multiplies the possibili-ties for unhappiness, both the rich of the earth and the poor are agreed that it is a misery they would prefer risking. The consumer ethos that pervades and sustains a high level of technology at the top of the human pyramid also pervades and sustains the grotesque want under which most of our kind are forced to live. - By far the greatest part of the human community has no opportunity for employing the technological tools that are now transforming the fac~ of the planet, and in many cases do not even know that they exist. Those who use jet transporta-tion are an absolute aristocracy; for every one of them there are several thousands who have never ridden a bicycle. The number of illiterates in the world still far The Art of Wasting 7~me / 9 outnumbers the number of those who even own radios; and the number of people who own television sets is far lower than the number of those whose annual income does not reach the cost of a television. The rest of humanity, for which individuals in the developed world have no time, have fallen into conditions made more difficult to escape by the surfeit that one small portion of the world enjoys. At the base of the human pyramid there are ~hundreds of millions living on the borderlands of vegetation and death, which in turn belongs to a group of nearly one billion people whom we have now come to speak of as the fourth world. Above them is the third world, over half of which lives in a poverty they have no hope of remedying, yet a poverty tortured by the knowledge that some of the race spend their lives struggling to acquire still greater surpluses of luxury, and to glut themselves with still more of the already maldis-tributed fruits of the earth. Those who are born and bred in life at the top of the pyramid have little practical feeling for the current inhumanity that is ravaging most of the race. They find it easier to imagine science-fictional futures than to imagine the present reality, let alone to image their own complicity in the way things are. They may watch documentaries about starvation in Africa or floods in Asia, but fail to make any connection when they book passage the next day for a tour in the Yucatfin. Or perhaps better, they have allowed their.questions to be silenced by the whole tangle of government and economic organizations that constantly complain of how com-plicated everything is. They may know that the budget of New York State, with its twelve million people, exceeds that of India with its six hundred million, and perhaps even permit themselves a sigh of pity; but they entrust the sorting out of injustices to the experts who have been trained to worry about such things. All the privileged of the earth know for sure is. that they have no objection to others sharing in their style of life, provided it does not make any demands on theirown appetities. Clearly, this is not enough. Within a generation we shall have six billion people on the earth, with five billion of them living in poverty. The tactic of indifference, which amounts to a war of the few against the many, kills and dehumanizes more effectively than any weapon we have yet dared to use. But it is running out of time. As the poor arm themselves with the surplus of our .stockpiles, sold off cheaply to make way for more advanced weaponry, we cannot suppose that they will forever remain content with waging war among themselves. The smaller and more concen-trated the centers of wealth become throughout the world, the more vulnerable they become to the masses of those who have been trained to be jealous of what others are free to consume. The urgency of the situation, however, is not of itself enough to guarantee the quality of any and every attempt to alleviate it. Just as time for the self and time for the earth tend to get absorbed without remainder into time for the consumption of luxuries advertised as refreshment from working time, so time for the human race all too readily gets twisted into the donation of services that perpetuate the spirit-ual impoverishment of the technological world by camouflaging it behind an 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 idiom of charity. Those who are touched with a sense of pity for the maldistribu-tion of wealth and feel the pressure to help, all too frequefitly lack the requisite insight into their own patterns of thought to realize how their aid can amount to the substitution of one form of dehumanization for another. In providing hospi-tals, schools, factories, and modern transport for the underprivileged (that is, for those denied the right to consume culture as we consume it), the donor organiza-tions narrow their responsibilities down tc~ the unilaterial sharing of goods and values. The possibility that alternate social systems, now' rendered obsolete, unproductive, and unsustainable by the current management of the world's resources, may have something to, teach the human community about liberation from the consumer ethos is pushed to one side in the rush to make amends for gluttony overcome with guilt in the face of deprivation. I1: the price of providing bread for the world is further investment in the current means of producing and distributing bread, then bread for the world there will never be. The economics of this are fairly intricate, but the direct ratio th~it obtains between the number of people who are starving to death and the increased number of organizations and agencies aimed at distributive justice is plain enough to see. A leisure that is freeing for the human race is not simply time given free of cost by the haves to the have-nots, but a time for withdrawal from the ruling myth of time. It must, in the first pla~e, be a waste of tilne altogether free of investments economic or ideological, time wasted on the whole of the race, ourselves included. Of all the forms of leisure, this is the one that has become most radically enslaved to the biases of working time, despite the way in which improved means of communication have enabled an altogether new image of the universal h~]man family. There may be no greater constriction of.the imagination in the history of human thought about world order than that of the present day face-off in devel-oped industrial nations between the philanthropic illusion of the rich nations of the world opening their storehouses to share with the poor on the one hand, and the financial illusion of increasing productivity to the point of being able to sell more goods more cheaply without monetary loss on the other. And this, too, is a mark of grave spiritual immaturity. The Reappropriation of Leisure If I have left a good deal in the previous pages to innuendo and only hints of an explanation of how leisure time has become victimized by the spread of consumer metaphors, it was not only to condense a manifold problem into a few words, but also to prepare for what 1 wish to propose by way of conclusion. Simply put, it comes to this: that only the personal awakening of increasing numbers of individ-uals to the considerable loss sustained by civilization in its forward march into technology can provide the footings for a modern spirituality, and that only the redemption of leisure time from its servility to current structures of thought can provide the conditions for such awakening. The reappropriation of the need for leisure--an unadvertised, unprofitable, and withal revolutionary need--begins with the individual or it does not begin at all. No one can stand l~roxy for another's The Art of Wasting Time spiritual conversion. No expertise can service a society with personal insight, judgment, and decision. For it is not so much concession to the logic of particular conclusions that is the point, but the recovery of the process of working one's own way out of familiar biases. This process hinges on the art of wasting time. In the first place, leisure time should nurture a spirit of resistance to the humors of resignation that poison the bloodstream of industrial society. It should increase one's resistance to the workaday bias that the submission and trust due divine providence, for having cast us into a world with hopes in our hearts too big for our abilities, should be extended into a submission and trust in social provi-dence, for having spun a web of institutions so tightly about us that we are powerless to do much more than lay a hand across our inquisitive mouths and adjust as best we can. From the point of view of the world of time where work gets done, free time that results in raising basic questions about that world is not only wasted time, it is counterproductive. No doubt a life in which leisure means nothing but filling up with comforts and entertainments the hollow gouged out of the soul by resignation to the complexities of modern life is an ideal few, if any, would Openly champion. But the fact is, the bare physical need for periodic reinvigoration always has a spiritual dimension to it as well, and in industrial society that spiritual dimension tends to vacillate between the reinforcement of patterns of passive consumption of relaxation and spare-time thoughts about better pay, shorter hours, or increased benefits. In either case, it remains subser-vient to the structures of work and effectively concedes defeat to their power. It lacks re-creativity. This is the idolatry, of epidemic proportions, that afflicts the spirituality of technological society. Second, in order to offer this sort of recreational resistance to the spirit of resignation, time wasted in leisure should be an abandon to the spirit of playful-ness. I use that word in a broader sense than either the games of children or the athletics of adults to cover not only the labor of alternative activities but also the enjoyments of repose; and in a narrower sense than sleep or intoxication on the one hand, moonlighting or profit-making hobbies on the other. The playfulness of leisure has three facets. The first of these is the imagination of possible futures in which we might be free of the oppressions of the present. If such futures are truly' possible, that is, if they are able to emerge out of the existing world by a rearrange-ment of its priorities, then their entertainment in imagination is capable of being sustained and deepened from one period of leisure to the next. This in contrast to the scattered daydreams of wishful thinking that come and go for all of us without effort or lasting impression. That is, such images can accumulate sufficient form in time to lead to the commitment to some preferable future from among the possi-bilities~ To experience such a reorganization of hope in playfulness is to experience the genesis of an ideal within oneself. Not to experience it is to keep leisure locked up in itself. And finally, there is the transition from the possible and the preferable to the enjoyment of the future in the present. This is where most people are best at wasting time, even though they may not know what they are doing. It consists in the construction of a temporary utopia about oneself where the things one values 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 most can be savored. It is a timefor tasting ideals of companionship without strife, pleasure without labor, crafmanship without pressure, play without punishment. The reigning fear among those who wish to protect their leisure time from being absorbed by spiritual or intellectual recollection is that too much reflection inhibits enjoyment. And to be sure, there are those whose twisted sense of asceticism drives them from one cause to the other, volunteering their services and neglecting the wisdom that comes from having a good, wasted time. At the other extreme, enjoyment cut off from reflection about the future altogether quickly shrivels up into a mere pampering of a self exhausted by labor, with the result that it becomes less and less enjoyable and more and more like the pure passivity of sleep. Some-where between the two lies the art of celebrating a world that is not but might be for a while, a world filled up with the spirit of playfulness. Third, leisure should help foster a spirit of survival in the midst of this by no means best of all possible worlds. Just as the struggle for physical survival requires ingenuity in using available resources and at the same time remaining alert to the opportunities for deliverance if and when they present themselves, so too with the struggle for spiritual survival. It requires anger against avoidable evils, sensitivity to appropriate solutions in which one's anger may be expressed, and the capacity to wait without exploding from within or being sapped of one's energies from without. One may have to buy chemically treated food because fresh produce has been priced beyond one's budget; one may have to drive an automobile to work because public transport systems have become an economic deficit to the com-munity; one may have to put up with menial labor because one's skills are not in demand; one may have to swallow large doses of injustice, stupidity, and callous-ness. But one does not have to pretend to like it or allow it to embitter enjoyment. Survival means wedding a resistance to resignation with a love of playfulness so as to forfeit neither the gusts nor the disgusts of life. Fourthly, leisure needs to infuse a spirit of the sacred into the time that we waste. When the ritual, beliefs, and holy writ of a religious tradition become fettered to the myth of consumer time, they forsake their sacredness. When they cease to cut like a. two-edged sword that denounces sinfulness and announces goodness, they dull and profane their capactiy of re-creation. At the same time, when they provide mere divertissement from the trials of working life or serve only as platforms for supporting the flood of causes that wash through the mass media with the regularity of spring and autumn fashions, they betray their meaning. Sacred time is not an investment measured in loss and profit to the current problems of a civilization. It is a necessity--the necessity to hallow the self, the earth, and the human race as a single great gift beyond all desert. It insures that, whatever of practical use may come out of time wasted in leisure, it is the wasting that is holiest. Sacred time unplugs us from our own time and opens up a horizon of all time, against which the greatest sin appears as the desire for absolute control and the greatest goodness as the grace of being absolutely loved. All of us, every soul of us on earth, breathe the myths of our civilization as inevitably as we breathe the air .that surrounds us. They are transparent, taken for The Art of Wasting l~me / 13 granted, but essential for human .life. Leisure time is like a flute that transforms.the silent secrets in the air into music. It shows us the harmonies and the cacophanies, the purity and the pollution of our myths. Without leisure, we have no way to know the air about us, no way to love back the One who made us the,mythmaking animals we are. View From Behind Tapestries look like battlefields from the back. Threads like soldiers in hand to hand combat-- who is most resilient? Arms locked, elbows out, clenched fists of knot scattered like small skirmishes across the expanse. Who is most flexible? Stitches quarrel in overbearing voice, rush to trenches, maintain positions. Colors invade each other's territory, singing violent victories of light. All clamor, all struggle, It faces the wall of faith while the weaver and the watcher . work from the front. St. Anne Higgins, D.C. 123 Franklin St., Petersburg, VA 23803 Celibacy in Africa Matungulu Otene, S.J. Zaire's Father Otene, ordained in 1977, is presently working in St. Peter and Paul parish: B.P. 1125: Lubumbashi: Zaire. This article is excerpted from the booklet. "C~libat Consacr~ pour une Afrique assoiff~: de F~:conditi:," published by Editions Saint-Paul Afrique, P.O. Box 8505; Kinshasa, which was translated into English by Louis C. Plamondon. S.J.: Manresa; Box 47154; Nairobi; Kenya. In English, it is no. 65 of the Spearhead series, "Celibacy and the African Value of Fecundity," published by Gaba Publications: P.O. Box 908: Eldoret: Kenya, which graciously granted permission for our use. ~f the reason for Christian celibacy is unique, that is, for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, every Christian called to this type of life is also called to live out this experience in the context of his own culture and personal history. An African celibate today is not celibate in exactly the same way as an Indian of today, even if both are celibate for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. There is a whole world of emotions and affectivity which permeates our celibacy very deeply. This is so true that the world we live in affects the objective and subjective content of our celibacy. Both what we hear being said about celibacy and what we experience in our flesh by living out what is said, are rooted emotions. Without this emotive element, there would be no human celibacy in the full sense of the term; conse-quently, there would be no Christian celibacy since the latter is deeply rooted in human nature and since celibacy itself has also to be incarnated. The affective life of a South American--his way of feeling and living celibacy--differs from that of an African from Zaire or Senegal. Among Africans there are a certain number of differences in affectivity. However, even if it must be admitted that within the same people there are different ways of feeling things, this, nevertheless, does not mean that African peoples do not have a greater affinity with one another than with peoples from the West or the East. After all, their cultural heritage is common. This seems evident even if there are shades of meaning or subtle nuances which are hard to express in these few short pages, which do not pretend to be a psycho-so-cial study of human societies. 14 Celibacy in Africa The cultural milieu in which the young African lives has a very great impact on his response to the Lord's call. Celibacy is surely an area in which sensibility is a very important factor, if not the most important. In fact, coming as he does from a family where marriage is viewed in a very special light, the young African will carry in the depths of his being, perhaps through his whole life, the impact of this way of thinking. It will take only a circumstance or an event to awaken in him a whole world of memories accumulated throughout his short life. The fact that his grand-father was polygamous, that his own father had more than one wife, and that his own mother was not the first wife of his father, nor the one preferred, cannot but have significance in his life of celibacy. The mere fact of knowing that in his extended family there is somewhere a cousin with five children, each with a different father, cannot be without significance. Those are his half brothers, but this entails that this good cousin of his.is a husbandless woman with children entirely dependent upon her. To know that his aunt is a prostitute with children, cannot' but have some impact on him. It is no small thing to have a deep sense of all these situations and still, despite all this, to dedicate his life to God in conse-crated celibacy. This world which I have just described briefly cannot be found as such in Europe nor in North or South America, but this is the world that has shaped the young African of whatever black African country he may be. One cannot ignore these realities and pretend that they do not have any influence whatsoever on people. For Africans the child is a reality to be treasured; and each human being does all in his power to leave behind him :some offspring, whether he be married or not married, living the life of a prostitute or of enforced celibacy. All Africans desire to have children, sometimes by any means. The young man who hears the Lord's call is living in this very world and not in any other. His' reflections and ways of thinking are rooted in the environment from which he comes, in the psycho-social milieu which surrounds him. This does not frighten the Lord just as no human milieu frightens him, because it is in such complex situations that he manages to find celibates for his kingdom. Growth in the Life of Celibacy To be sure, other cultures also have their own difficult problems in this area. I am merely showing that our way of experiencing the world has an influence on celibacy and that the cultural traditions are to be taken seriously, but without exaggeration. The young African called to a life of celibacy or religious life will have to integrate progressively within his affective life the realities which surround him without seeking to escape from them. He will do so by looking at them frankly, without panic, in prayer, in his personal relationship with Christ in the Eucharist. God's grace is always there, and this is what gives us confidence in the face of the strong temptations in this life. This young human being will have to understand that since the Incarnation, God gives his grace through weak human beings. Accordingly, to see clearly within his own being, he will have to be open with another person who has the experience of Jesus Christ. The one the Lord will "16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 put in his path will show him the road to follow and will give him courage in the moment of trial when temptations are strongest. Celibacy requires a lot of disci-pline. He will have to learn to exercise great control over his senses and sometimes to give up things which are innocuous, and to focus on the unique reality which is necessary, Jesus Christ. For certain types of people, chastity can be gained only after a hard fight lasting many years; and this can cause a lot of anxiety when it happens to people who are scrupulous by nature, yet desirous of achieving holiness. What I have just written is not rhetoric. It sometimes happens that young people are torn apart inwardly because they want to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord but yet cannot completely control certain evil habits or certain attitudes which they find difficult to evangelize. I insist that it is a difficult fight--a fight to death--a fight which moulds a man gradually as he learns bit by bit not to depend upon his own strength but on that of the Lord who has set him apart from his mother's womb to preach his Gospel to men of good will There are less sensitive types of people who do not encounter very many types of problems in their development, but irrespective of their sensitivity, all will undergo moments when they are forced to make a decision for the Lord. The chastity that is required by a life of celibacy is not a case of spontaneous generation--it is a garden that must be tended lest weeds grow in it. When one has gone astray, one finds it difficult, sometimes even impossible, to go back; thus, it is not surprising that some young, generous people have gone astray. Vigilance is necessary in these matters, but the kind of vigilance characteristic of those who are sure of victory; for if Christ is with us, who can be against? Sooner or later Christ will defeat this devil of our middle age who likes to attack our flesh, born in the human condition, born incomplete. The young celibate, therefore, will learn not to abuse God's grace. He will be prudent; he will not take chances with his celibacy. He will have the simplicity of a dove but the prudence of a serpent. The married man who is a dedicated Christian will not flirt with other women lest his marriage, be threatened and, accordingly, his real happiness and that of his home. The same holds true for religious. They also cannot take chances with their passions and put themselves in the position of violating the gift they have made of themselves in the simplicity of their heart. Nothing escapes lay people when it comes to observing the behavior of reli-gious. They notice even the smallest detail when they want to criticize their priests or religious men and women. Some even take pleasure in judging them, in scrutin-izing their behavior to find the smallest reprehensible thing. In this way, they purify their religious, even without wanting to. Lay people are surely not gullible, even though they sometimes misinterpret the way African religious live out their celibacy. They can often distinguish between the religious who is loyal and faithful to his consecration to the Lord from the religious who is beginning to compromise and. to give in. Assuredly, their judgments are not gospel truth, and often one would do well to minimize themremembering that even the great saints were often Slandered by malicious tongues. Celibacy in Africa Certain Difficulties or Certain Illusions It is sad to 'note that many young, generous and seemingly solid religious have lost the grace of celibacy because of supposedly spiritual relationships with women religious and with young girls. There is nothing more dangerous than these suspect relationships between men and women religious, nothing more scandalous for African Christians than to see their priests, their men and women religious become involved in expressions of human love under the pretext of love in Christ.Many men and women religious believe rather too easily that they have been made immune to the weakness of their flesh. They are a little too quick to believe that they have attained the required maturity in celibacy. They sincerely think that henceforth sex has no hold over them since they have become spiritual. Yet, it is a very sad and illusory spirituality which makes man believe that he is now immune to sin. A really spiritual person, on the contrary, depends entirely on the grace of God without giving up healthy vigilance. I believe that the closer one gets to the Lord, the more one realizes that what seemed innocent until then now takes on the appearance of something that is not entirely pure. However, far from being threatened or discouraged by this increasing desire for purity, one has more and more confidence in the Lord and greater humility when one thinks 6f how little one is virtuous. In true love there is no fear. This is so, it seems to me, in the case of one who wants to respond wholeheartedly, day after day, to the call of him who has made us pass from darkness to his wonderful light. In my humble opinion, it often takes many years of solitude to be able to experience a true spiritual friendship in Christ with members of the other sex. The danger is to believe too quickly that the right moment has come. That is often when one goes astray. As for any genuinely Christian life, celibacy cannot go without suffering. There is no real celibacy without the mystery of the cross written, as it were, in the flesh of baptized people. A celibacy without renunciation, without a sacrifice that is willingly accepted, a celibacy which refuses to die like the grain of wheat fallen in the soil is a celibacy locked up in solitude and bearing no lasting fruit. There are people who are undoubtedly privileged because of circum-stances and especially because of the Lord, but let us not be too quick to classify ourselves among those people and risk spoiling the splendid grace the Lord has given to us--the grace of living the celibacy of simple people without any special favors from God, I mean without any extraordinary grace. This simple gift, in fact, honors the Lord just as much as the extraordinary gift that some of us humans might receive from God. I don't mean to say that it is absolutely impossible for men or women religious to experience a healthy spiritual friendship with members of the other sex, but I believe that some of us think that we have attained that stage when we really haven't. Often, because of a lack of restraint or a lack of real self-knowledge, one strikes up a friendship which will tomorrrow become sinful, therefore, bad for oneself and for theirs. A friendship to which we are too attached, a friendship which prevents us from fulfilling our duties is a friendship to be "18 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 purified or, better still to be abandoned while there is time; that is, as soon as we become aware off where it is. leading, the relationship must be severed politely and without human respect. This is for the greater good of the person whom we love in Christ; finally, it is for the greater glory of the one who has called us to holiness, Jesus Christ. In the same way, a friendship which would render a member of a religious order incapable of being available to do what his superiors want 9f him is simply not good. It is for the Lord that we have joined religious life, not for the purpose of surrounding ourselves with protective partnerships which go against true charity. In,his infinite goodness, the Lord may put on our path a person of the other sex for a certain period of time. This, person will enrich us through, friendship, and this enrichment can be mutual. But, here again, this gracemust be lived in all simplicity and with the necessary prudence since we are all weak, sinful human beings. Hope for Africa ~ , Certain missionaries have led young Africans to believe that celibacy is more difficult for them than !t is for young people from the West. This opinion is based on ignorance or it is a lie. The fundamental problem, in fact, is the same for all human beings; the conditions that are found in any culture are not qualitatively different. In the final analysis, it is the same fundamental problem for different people in different cultures; there are accidental but no essential differences. I have sometimes been shocked to hear this type of broad statement according to which it would be practically impossible for Africans to live a life of celibacy. For me, celibacy is rooted in faith in the living Christ. It is something which permeates the faith of the one who feels called, and faith is something which is given by the Lord without any distinction of culture or race. There are differences, but they are not so essential that they make a life of celibacy impossible in AfriCa. There are enough African religious to show th~.t this is true. Among these meia and women of Africa, often living in some isolated areas, there are men and women religious who live their cbnsecration to the Lord even in heroic fashion. Their silent example is enough to prove that celibacy is possible for Africans, at least for those who feel themselves called to it and who respond generously. Not too long ago, 1 was telling a group of young Africans the following: either we are Christians or we are not; either we believe in Jesus Christ or we don't believe in him at all. In this area there are no half measures. It's all or nothing. This is why faith in Jesus Christ requries a complete transformation of our life-style and of our outlook. One of the aspects of our outlook on life which must change because it is absolutely against Christianity is this requirement of a fruitfulness that is exclusively biological. A man without children among us in black Africa is one who does not bear fruit, who is useless and even an outcast. If there is an obstacle to the awakening and living out of vocations (and I am talking here about voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life), it is our too limited way of looking at fruitfulness. Many Africans believe that a man cannot be completely fulfilled in or outside of marriage unless he has many children. Among us, celibate people and Celibacy in Africa married couples without children are not seen in a good light because they seem useless to our society. It may be understandable that some non-Christians think this way. But for Christians this is disastrous. Haven't we ever meditated on the life of Christ? Can we ignore that he was himself celibate? Or do we believe that Jesus was not a man like us except for sin? Yet our creed is very clear on this. Jesus was truly God and he was truly man. If such is the case, why wouldn't we allow those among us who wish to live like Christ to doso? If it be true that the face of being celibate did not diminish the God made man, why wouldn't we accept that a certain number among us are not diminished by celibacy for Jesus Christ and his kingdom? Has the world ever known a being as fully developed as Jesus of Nazareth, our Love? Yet, he was celibate. Isn't this Jesus who lived without a wife and children still, even today, a source of all life for us? One doesn't lose anything by responding to his call, by becoming celibate for him and for his kingdom where we shall all have only one Father, his own, and where all of us will truly be brothers and sisters in the Spirit who makes us one. The young African is thus called to live a life of faith in Christ. He must not think that celibacy is more difficult for him than for young people in other continents. This is simply not true. Let us take the example of the West where today may be found pornographic films, sex shops, nightclubs. To live in such a world is not always easy. It requires a certain self-discipline. In order to live a life of celibacy in such an atmosphere, it is necessary to cling to Jesus Christ, to have a deep life of prayer and to receive the Eucharist regularly. The young African man or woman called to religious life will always remember that we live in a world of male and female; consequently, it is clear that we have to live our celibacy in the midst of men and women of our times and of our culture. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a grace that the Lord gives us by inviting us to live out his gospel in the midst of the world and not in some isolated corner. At the crossroads the Lord may put on our path certain persons of the other sex. We will welcome them as brothers and sisters in the Lord. The gospel is full of examples that show us how Jesus respected persons of the other sex. He doesn't send away the sinful woman who comes to the house of Simon, the Pharisee to have her sins forgiven. On this occasion, Jesus could have been afraid of shocking people by receiving such a woman with open arms. But the Lord was not afraid of what people would say or think because in true love there is no fear. Neither does Jesus judge the woman caught in adultery like the Pharisees who bring her to him. On the contrary, he defends her against the "unmarked tombs" who have grown old in sin and yet want to preach to others. Jesus is close friends with Martha and Mary as well as with their brother, Lazarus. Jesus has pity on the widow from Naim who has lost her son. The Lord admires the Canaanite woman's faith, and he is exceedingly affectionate toward his mother Mary, the Immaculate Virgin. In his Gospel, the Lord shows us how his celibacy did not exclude anybody. He Was completely open; he welcomed others. In solitude he prayed and he was a 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 source of joy and peace for the people that God, his Father, had placed in his path. If religious life is to flourish in our African continent,it is necessary that there be more and more religious who witness by their life of celibacy. A celibacy based on Jesus Christ cannot but be fruitful. Black Africa, which has such a high regard for fruitfulness, will see a new type of love which outstrips in fruitfulness the love of the children of this world. We, the sons and daughters of Mother Africa, have believed in the word of him who said, "there are some who are eunuchs because they have made themselves so for the kingdom of heaven. Let him who can understand, understand" (Mt 19:!2). If there is a word which has become the life of our life, that is the one. Spiritual Fruitfulness If there is a fruitfulness that is biological, there is another one which is spiritual. Any parent worth his salt knows that it is' not enough to procreate children. In responsible parenthood, it is also necessary to help the child that we have brought to life to grow untilhe has reached a stage where he will truly be an adult. To educate, to instruct are part and parcel of his awakening to human life. It takes only one instant for a couple to initiate the process of procreation. It takes only a little time to call someone into existence, but it requries many years for a child to become an adult. Whether it be as parents, as educators, or in any other capacity, all those who are engaged in human formation are doing a type of work that is spiritually generative. Any man who helps another one grow and become more human is a man who is gpiritually generative. This spiritual generation exists at various levels; yet, the spiritual fruitfulness of a Christian is not that of a non-Christian. From a Christian point of view, any Christian man or woman who awakens another human being to the life of God in Jesus Christ is spiritually fruitful. The object of spiritual fruitfulness for a Christian is Jesus Christ and his message. It is the person of Christ which distinguishes any typically Christian fruitfulness from any other. All Christians are called to be fruitful but in different ways and in accordance with their state in life. The form of life of one who wakens to the life of God in Jesus Christ is not something that is accidental. There are some who believe that the way of life--whether it be of married Christians or of "eunuchs for the king-dom of God"---has no importance in the process of awakening to life. But when one awakens somebody else to life, one does it with all one's being. If our way of life is not something external to us but a part of our being and, therefore, a part of our relationship to God, to others, and to the world, we can readily understand that this life-style is not without importance in matters of spiritual fruitfulness. In his life Jesus preferred celibacy to marriage, and this choice is not something accidental. The Jesus of the gospels presents himself to us as celibate and not otherwise, and this is part of the mystery of incarnation. In the same way Jesus was not at the same time a man and a woman. He was not both married and non-mar-ried. He was a celibate, and tfiis fact has some relevance in the transmission of his Celibacy in Africa message. He wanted to be born of a virgin, Mary, and this also is not something purely accidental or accessory in the mystery of salvation. Thus one who chooses celib~acy for the kingdom of God is fruitful differently from married people. This difference is rooted in the order of being and not of having. It is an ontological reality and, therefore, it is a dimension surrounded with mystery. The spiritual fecundity of those who live in celibacy resembles closely that of Christ. In other words, the way that Christ was spiritually fruitful resembles the way in which a man is fruitful through a celibacy chosen for Christ. Obviously "to resemble" or "to be close to" is not the same thing as "to be identical to." Wherever a true local Church is to be found, there will be found also Christians who are married and Christians who are eunuchs for the kingdom. Each of these forms of life has a great importance in the aspect of fecundity which is essential for the life of the Church. The uniqueness of the spiritual fruitfulness of a celibate for the kingdom of heaven shares something of the mystery of God made man, of God who wanted to be among us without woman or child while being eternally generative. Death Song of a Grain of Wheat Born above the earth, Beloved of the sun, Sky-held. Rain-touched. Wind-taught to dance, I know I sang of joy. Borne beneath the ground, Forsaken by the sun, Sky-denied, Rain-forgot, I feel no more the winds, And know a slower song. Yet reach I for the sun-set fires And C~rr the hidden waters. Stretched, song-heavy with the wait ' Of days too long to measure, I learn to trust the darkness That consumes me: That sends my myriad children to be Born above the earth. Sister Linda Karas. RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Sparrow Has Found Its Home At Last: A Personal Account of Transfer Anonymous The author is a sister who transferred from an active to a contemplative community some several years ago. She explains in the article why she prefers to remain anonymous. The sharing which follows comes as the result of a suggestion made to me that I write about my experience of transfer from an active community to a contempla-tive order. My first response was a hasty and hearty "No." Then the possibility of helping any individual or community involved in a similar experience crept into my prayer and thinking. The good which might be achieved seemed to outweigh my natural reticence and my disinclinatio.n to discuss the subject. I have not taken any polls, nor have I statistics. I personally know exactly six solemnly professed nuns and a few people in formation who transferred from active to contemplative life. However, one would'have to have lived on a remote Pacific atoll for the last several years not to know that transfers are on the increase. What follows is not a scholarly analysis of the phenomenon of transfer. It is just my own experience and an endeavor to share what ! have learned. The reason for my choosing anonymity is that I might feel freer in what I write and also guard the identity of my former and present communities. There is another reason: the story is more God's than my own. The transfer, or more correctly, my contempla-tive vocation, is his work, his call, his idea. My part has only been a response to his initiative and to his love. Early History The idea of transfer did not come as a sudden inspiration. My first desire to be a nun came when ! was twelve and I was certain then that I was called to be a contemplative: I even knew to which order and monastery I was attracted. Some-thing, though, interfered with following this vocation: My father adamantly opposed the idea of his daughter being immured in a cloister. The whole topic was 22 A Personal Account of Transfer forbidden, and gradually I forgot the idea. In the meantime, I became acquainted wi~h the sisters working in our parish. I won my father's consent to join this :community which 1 genuinely loved and admired. I received a good fo, rmation and an excellent education. I was very happy and contented. One thing consistenly moved and drew me: prayer. Right from the beginning I had some difficulty with meditation books and their outline of points, colloquies and resolutions. It all seemed too ready-made. Also, the time given to this prayer (one-half hour) never seemed to satisfy my longing for greater intimacy and depth. My difficulty was remedied by the fact that God simply transcended the books and led me along his chosen path for me in prayer. Another remedy came by way of hiding alone in solitary places on the novitiate property. There God had free rein in my heart. The one thing I most wanted was to love him and see him known and loved. Of course I did try to speak of this desire to superiors. They seemed mbre concerned that I live the common life, practice virtue, and eliminate my faults. All this was quite understandable but not terribly encouraging. Matters came to a head when I became a junior sister. My desires for loving God alone and in hiddenness, and for a life which would embrace withdrawal and penance became a steady fire within me. Neither studies nor work could distract me from it. After some months of inner turmoil I finally had the courage to broach the subject of a contemplative vocation to the community confessor, a, retreat maste.r, and my immediate superior. None of these persons told me the whole thing was a temptation against my vocation, but since 1 was happy and well adjusted, they each felt that I had enough opportunity for the things I was seeking within the scope of the religious life as it was then being lived in the congregation. Again, this was essentially what I had been told in the novitiate. My disappoint-ment was as strong as the attraction I had experienced but l was able to set aside my yearning. The work in which I was engaged kept me busy. I enjoyed it and gave myself to it wholeheartedly. A few years later, an unforgettable retreat, coupled with God teaching me to pray with Scripture some months after retreat, gave direction and support to me in my relationship with him. He was so near, and daily he spoke to me in his word. This did not rekindle the desire for contemplative life~ but it did establish me firmly in the way of contemplative prayer. This brief history serves, I think, to underscore a fact in my life and in the lives of those women whose stories of transfer I know well: the vocation was felt very early and not taken too seriously by those in a position to advise and assist. Had they done so, a good deal of the suffering, struggle and turmoil of coming to a decision to transfer,after many years in an apostolic congregation might have been mitigated. . Coming to a Decision In the years following Vatican Council II my community undertook its renew-al and adaptation. I welcomed all the initial changes as healthy and hopeful. As time went on, however, I became unhappy with my own and the community's level 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 of secularization. My modest wardrobe and collection of trifling possessions troubled my conscience. I wanted and expected to receive annual assignments, but the new approach of applying for both position and residence, with the full expectation that one's preferences would be honored, contradi6ted my understand-ing of Gospel obedience. T.V., mixed drinks, popular novels, dating, and all the inevitable departures from religious life were matters of grave concern to me. It seemed to me that the true life of the community was ebbing away, that God and the love of God were no longer the focus of life. We still did a first-class job in our work, but there appeared to me~ little difference between ourselves and dedicated lay persons. Without going into more detail, I felt it necessary to include the foregoing inasmuch as it formed some of the background for my transfer. However, I do not feel that discontent and disapproval, even if justified, are good reasons for transfer. They would form a very shaky foundation for any new beginning and would surely raise questions in the community accepting a transfer sister. Flight from trouble could well indicate that the same pattern would be followed in the new community. It could also mean that the heart of the problem might be within the sister herself, and her response to difficult circumstances. Fleeing trouble was never part of my motivation. Had this been the case, I would have done it much sooner because I lived in painful community situations for several years before making a transfer. Furthermore, 1 was always very open and honest in communicating my thinking to my superiors. One cannot simply leave. There must be integrity in the decision and it should be made in peace and, as far as possible, in harmony with one's higher superiors. There should be no bitterness, resentment or anger. The vocation is followed as God's call and is a result of his initiative. This fact, if kept central in the minds of all concerned, makes for peace; and it is in this way that God's presence manifests itself to all involved. God uses all our experiences to our good and brings about his purposes. While not my motivation, discontent and disapproval were part of my personal expe-rience and did serve to keep me from what I saw as wrong, In a more positive vein, they ,kept me praying for God's light, strength and help. Certain tragic events in my own family also form a part of this picture and had their effect. Instead of completely discouraging me or leading me to despair or exodus from religious life altogether, everything brought me to the God of all peace and consolation. He alone became myRock of Refuge and Teacher. The alienation I experienced from my community and its value increased my love for him and my trust in him. Thus it was that my attraction for simply being with God in love grew stronger. A mere "concidence" (in quotation marks because the providence of the God who numbers the hairs of our fieads extends to every circumstance and happen-ing) occasioned my writing to the superior of a monastery. In time we became correspondents. When I first visited her and met her community in the grilled and bare parlor of the monastery I was deeply moved. This surprised me. I had not thought of contemplative life as my vocation for years, yet here 1 was, feeling completely at home with relative strangers and very strongly drawn to their sim- A Personal Account of Transfer / 25 plicity, humility, joy, peace and poverty. In the months that followed 1 was haunted by the experience. I found out more about their life and read of their origin. Could it be? Might 1 become one of them? Or was this merely a desire for escape from present suffering ("the grass is always greener.") or a dream too good to be true? Then, too, there was the possibility to be faced that God was calling me to deeper contemplative prayer rather than actual contemplative life. And might I be doing more good in the world outside a cloister rather than in it? I went through this inner and secret turmoil for several months. All the while 1 begged for light and some discernible, positive direction from God. 1 kept waiting and hoping for some outside confirmation of God's will. God was, in fact, giving me all the "signs" I needed, but I distrusted the most significant of them: the profound attraction the life held for me over the years and especially at that moment, the fact that it fulfilled the most unselfish aspirations of my heart, and the fact that I seemed to have the requisite "talents." How is it we so readily distrust our own intuition and heart? Yet here at the deepest level of our being is where God works. Again, I have heard the same experience related by others who transferred to contemplative life. 1 went through no particular "process" of dis-cernment. There was just myself and, I trust, the Holy Spirit, plenty of tears, prayer, and searing, soul-searching honesty. One thing 1 knew: my life had one purpose and that was to love God with all my heart and soul, mind and being and to tend solely to him. Nothing else mattered. I did not see it then as clearly as I do now, but that, too, was evidence of a contemplative vocation, and had been the most important reality in my whole religious life. In his own time, God spoke, and he completely calmed the storm. I came to a "peace surpassing understanding." All my doubts vanished. My questions came to an end. I knew. In light of that peace I first asked the superior of the monastery (of the same order as that to which I was first attracted at the age of twelve) if there were any possibility of her accepting me. At the time I made my request I know now I was too little aware of the risk a small enclosed community takes in accepting a transfer. 1 next confided in my old and saintly grandmother who gave me her blessing, encouragement and wisdom--along with a warning that there was "still plenty of the world" in me and that I'd have far to go. She was absolutely correct. With my grandmother's prayers to back me, I approached my major superior. She was wonderful and accepting. The depth of my peace and conviction were evident to her. She fully realized and agreed.that this was a genuine vocation and not a result of any differences of values or opinions. We communicated in a real spirit of love. Not knowing much about contemplative life, her concern was that my personality might be stifled or my gifts ignored and unused. 1 had tentatively broached the subject to a priest friend in a letter some weeks before. Visiting him, 1 told him the whole story and said that I really thought it was God's will for me to transfer. He informed me that it came as no surprise to him, that he had seen it coming but had not wanted in any way to interfere with God's guidance of me. Among my family and friends, the least suprised was my mother. Her intuition had led her to realize that a great change was in the offing. 96 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 The responses of all the above mentioned persons further confirmed my expe-rience. I cannot say that my decision was accepted or understood by all my friends and religious family. It caused some painful estrangements and there were those who could only accept it as my "thing" and therefore all right for me. The actual process of transfer was thus initiated after what had felt like an interminable period of waiting and praying. Perhaps God wanted me to realize that it was first necessary that I be utterly surrendered to his desires and that the only way he could achieve this was to let me struggle on "alone" during that time. It was a kind of game of love. He so deeply drew me but never let me fully reach him. Left to myself 1 could not believe in my own heart. It was not until he gave me that unmistakable sign and gift of peace that 1 was sure that what I had been experiencing in my own heart was indeed his will for me, that the two were not two, but one. Legal Process of Transfer Because 1 am rather sure questions about procedure will arise, it may be helpful here to tell what 1 know about getting the document known as a "Rescript of Transfer" from the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In my own case this was done in the last months of my postulancy immediately prior to my receiving the habit and commencing my canonical year. For the validity of novitiate, one must have this document. Ordinarily the Vicar for Religious of the diocese in which the monastery is located handles the paperwork. He directed that three letters be written: the first by the superior of the community ! was leaving expressing her approval and her willingness to receive me back at any time before solemn vows should I leave the monastery; the second by the superior receiving me stating her willingness to receive me and including pertinent data regarding my status in religion (name, age, years professed, community of origin); the third by myself. handwritten and addressed to the Pope, stating my request and my reasons for it. These letters are sent to the Vicar who forwards them to.Rome through his office. In approximately six weeks, upon receipt of the rescript, he sends copies to the superiors. This is, as ! understand it, the general procedure, although I have heard of it being done through the Vicar of the diocese which the transferring sister was leaving. I have also heard of cases handled by a major superior independently of the Vicar for Religious. The superior dealt directly with the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In any case, this rescript is the only permission one needs to begin the canonical year and proceed through formation to vows. New Beginning I entered upon my new life with certain expectations. Some were realistic and some not so realistic. It was realistic to expect some sense of dbjb vu. This was in many ways a return to customs and practices l had lived in my first several years of religious life. With these things I was at home. I had also rightly anticipated a warm community life. Of course 1 allowed for a period of adjustment, but I did not A Personal Account of Transfer expect it to last more than six to eight weeks, in fact, it took much longer than that. The reason was not that I was too old to learn or change or that 1 lacked a willing docility. It was more subtle than this. Without realizing it, I expected to enter upon a period of rest, a sort of honeymoon in a safe harbor after years of struggle and sorrow. This was not to be. For one thing, the monastic community I entered was going through its own renewal pains. And much worse, for me, was that when I came in the front door of the monastery it seemed that God left by the back door. Here 1 was at last, and where was he? The work tired me. The hard bed took some getting used to. Often it was impossible to get back to sleep once it had been broken by the Office or night adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes the closeness of my neighbors irritated me beyond measure. There were no days off from routine. I expected to master everything easily but it turned out that I was the one to be mastered. After many years in religious life it amazed me to learn how deluded I was about myself. Without the distractions of apostolic work and all that goes with it, without useless conversation, reading and entertainment, God's light began to clarify my vision. The very starkness of the life, its purity, makes for this experience. I was face to face with myself, my weakness, my poverty. Anything is possible if God is tangibly supporting us. It is when he is appar-ently nowhere to be found that things get out of hand and we are unable to cope with the simplest and most normal inconveniences and trials of daily life. But ought not a contemplative be able always to find refuge in prayer? Self-made prayer is most unsatisfactory. What a contemplative learns by being unable to pray, by being reduced to utter poverty at every level of existence (and this was my experience) is just to cling in naked faith to Jesus Crucified. Paradoxical as it may sound, there is no greater happiness. Having come to this reality through suffering, both in my life before 1 entered the monastery and in the years 1 have been here, I know something of what it means to say with Paul that I have been crucified with Christ, that my life is not my own and Christ lives in me (Ga 2:19-20). The way to the deepest joy I have ever known is just as the Son of God has taught us and that way is by losing my life and denying my very self. The total experience of knowing myself as nothing, of having nothing, has opened my eyes in faith to the All within me, the Being who in unfathomable love calls non-being into union with himself. My love for God, my hunger for him, unites me at the Heart of Reality with all my brothers and sisters in this world. I do not live for myself, nor suffer for myself, nor weep for myself. My vocati6n embraces every person on earth. In their names 1 pray and work. In their names, I, too, am in misery and pain. I am a whole world calling to God in need, in love, in trust. 1 have entered eternity in time and within me there is infinite scope for love. I came because of love and I have stayed because of love. Surely it is "a narrow gate and a hard road" (Mt 7:13-14), but it "leads to life," life opening more and more into the mystery of God as love. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Barbara Armstrong, O.SS.R. This article had its origin in a presentation made to a group of retreat masters by Sister Barbara, a cloistered nun residing in the Redemptoristine Monastery; Liguori. MO 63057. Somewhere in her writings, the great St. Teresa compares the contemplative with the standard-bearer in battle. She says that, because he is the standard-bearer, he is exposed to great danger. He can't defend himself because he carries the standard, of which he must not let go--even if he is to be cut to pieces. "Contemplatives," she says, "have to bear aloft the sign of humility, the Cross. And they must suffer all the blows aimed at them without striking back. Their duty is to suffer as Jesus did." "Let them watch what they are doing," she says again, "for if they let the standard fall, the battle is lost." It isn't the standard-bearer who is important. It is the standard itself which is all important, for it is imprinted with the sign of our salvation: the Cross. Perhaps this is why there are so few contemplatives. Perhaps, too, this is why contempla-tives need all the help they can get just to respond fully to the call of their vocation, to persevere and become fruitful in the Church of today. You Have No Eyes to See The message sent to the Church in Laodicea, in the Book of Revelation, is also a message meant for contemplatives--and for those who guide them. Right after the familiar passage about lukewarmness, we hear the Lord say: "You have no eyes to see that you are wretched, pitiable, poverty-stricken, blind and naked. My advice to you is to buy from me that gold which is purified in the furnace, so that you may be rich, and white garments to wear so that you may hide the shame of your nakedness, and salve to put on your eyes to make you see." That phrase, "You have no eyes to see," is significant for us because ignorance The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction is one of the reasons why relatively few contemplatives ever attain the end for which they were called: union with God. Mystical graces, we are told, are always available. God's goodness and generosity are never lacking. But very few actually arrive at a state of contemplation. Why is this? To answer this question, I would like to tell you a story. Actually, it is a parable which is told in the book of a Carmelite nun, Sister Ruth Burrows. Here is her parable. A Love Story Hidden away in a valley surrounded by high mountains there lived a very primitive tribe. The people of this tribe knew very little of the world outside their valley. Occasionally, they would get a glimpse of a jet streaking across the sky far over their heads, and this, they thought, was one of the gods throwing spears at another. One day a man appeared in the valley, a young anthropologist. He had come to study the tribe at close quarters--if they would have him. But they were a gentle tribe, so they welcomed him. The young man was lodged in the chief's hut and lived there for some years. Eventually he fell in love with the chief's daughter and married her. Hitherto, the girl had thought herself wealthy. Was not her father the most powerful of their people? But the closer she grew to her beloved, the more she saw that her riches--the family cattle, some cooking pots and animal skins--were as nothing compared to the possessions that were her husband's. He had materials, leathers and machines, knives and matches to make fire--riches unimaginable. But the girl saw, too, that her husband's greatest delight was to share his riches with her. Her lack merely aroused his bounty, so she knew her poverty itself primarily as a richness, giving them both pleasure. There came a time when the anthropologist had to leave and, taking his wife with him, he returned to his own civilization. The native girl found this new environment terribly alien. She discovered, to her horror, that her husband's enemies laughed at him behind his back because of his primitive wife. Even his friends pitied him. She didn't know what to do with this bitter knowledge. Some-how she had brought disgrace on her loved one. The girl always knew that her husband loved her. She knew that he longed to share his heart with her, take her completely into his life. But when he tried to speak of so many things closest to him, she would notice his voice falter, for she could not follow even the meaning of his words, let alone the scope of his thoughts and concepts. She was shut off from him by her own limitation and ignorance. That caused her distress almost beyond bearing. The more she realized what her poverty cost her beloved, the more absolute became her will to escape from it for his sake. Equally the more clearly did she see that, of herself, there was no escape. But all was not lost because she also realized that in her husband she had come not only to understand her poverty, but to find an effective and everpresent escape from it. From him she could receive all that his Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 love had prepared for her. So she opened her heart to everything he had to offer her. She found in him the most loving of teachers. Soon she became the echo of his thought. There passed between them intimate glances of complete understanding. She had an intuitive knowledge of how his mind worked, so closely did she grow to him. Yet she bad lost nothing of that natural woman he had first loved. On the contrary, she only now realized her own innate capacity. Her enrichment had brought all that was already there to bloom. But now, more than ever, she knew, too, that this was all his doing. Every perception, every growth, had come from his love and his teaching. Genuine Contemplatives This story, lengthy though it be, brings out so many important points about the contemplative vocation. Years ago, maybe it's different now, one of the phrases we often heard was that "we should strive for perfection." This tended to make us think that we could do it all ourselves. The main idea seemed to be that we were in control of our lives. The success of things depended on our own efforts. And so, many of us thought we could become contemplatives by the things we did. Like the primitive tribe of our story living in their valley, though, our horizons were very limited. We were content with our regulated existence, our own personal riches and the consolations sent us from time to time by a loving God. Much confid~nce was attached to the good things of our little enclosed world. We had no eyes to see beyond our then present peaceful life. But since we are meant to be genuine contemplatives, Jesus began to break through our ignorance and complacency. He asked us to leave our valley of poverty. He invited us to a rich interior world, one we had never dreamed of. These invitations continue to be offered to us in many ways. Perhaps they come in a retreat, in a sermon, in our reading, or through the words of a friend. But the voice is the voice of Jesus, and he invites us over and over again. If the primitive tribe in our story had turned away the young anthropologist when he came among them, he would never have married the chief's daughter. She would never have learned about the larger world; she would have stayed in her ignorance. Think of all the beauty, rich, ness and love of which she would have been deprived. The great St: Teresa was satisfied for a long time with her routine religious exercises, even though in her heart she knew better. We read that she continued to live just over twenty ,years with her heart divided between two extremes: the pleasures, satisfactions and pastimes of her fashionable world, and the spiritual life of a contemplative. How can this happen? How can we contemplatives continue to fool ourselves ---even though we are continually prodded, continually touched by grace? One of the ways we contemplatives have of staying in our valley of poverty is by our attachment to .the Law. We can" fall prey to a sort of fanatical legalism. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Most often, it seems, it is the most pious of persons who become rigid and unbending formalists. "Here at last," we say, "is something solid to hang on to." In our own eyes we are in the right. "We are doers of the Law." Any ,doer of the law, however, will also be tempted to live by the law, whereas the true lover of Jesus lives by the spirit. We contemplatives tend to make the Law, and it alone, our security. We never even dream that it is possible to seek a perfection in anything whatever with an intensity of zeal that is in itself imperfect. For instance, often in the past, the cross, austerity, suffering was unthinkingly perverted by us in our zeal. Wehad the idea that, since we were only pleasing God when we were suffering, the more suffering the better. Fearing and hating our bodies, we thought, would make us spiritual people. This, together with the notion that we were redeemed by suffering since Jesus died for us, we pushed .to its logical conclusion, thinking that we could never have too much suffering. It wasn't suffer-ing that redeemed us. It was love.t We contemplatives can develop attachments to just about anything: to prayer and fasting for their own sake; to a pious practice or devotion; to a custom or system of spirituality; to a method of meditation, even to contemplation itself (or to what we think is contemplation.) We can become attached to virtues, to things that, in themselves, are marks of heroism and high sanctity. We religious men and women, called to be saints, can allow ourselves to be blinded by an inordinate love for such things and can remain just as much in darkness and error as those who seem far less perfect than we. Some of us can become gluttons for prayer and for silence and solitude. Silence can become an ultimate. When there is noise we become angry and rebel-lious. If we are required to set aside our solitude for the sake of charity, we fill the air with our complaints. This kind of solitude and silence is false, of course, a refuge for the individualist. Perhaps the deepest attachment of all, the one which keeps us in our valley of poverty the longest, is attachment to ourselves. On this we must keep a fingerhold; we just cannot let go. Self-respect, self-fulfillment, self-satisfaction--we have to look good in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. We worry.about failure because somehow we are not living up to the expectations we have set for our-selves. Only secondly do we consider the expectations of God. In our story the chief's daughter found that her lack aroused her husband's bounty. She knew her poverty primarily as a sweet thing. But covetous as we are, we contemplatives want our hands full. We must have something of our own which we can bestow on God; or at least hold out to him, thinking to win him over with our generosity. When Jesus Touches Us Sooner or later we begin to realize that this way of living does not work; we begin to see that relying on ourselves alone is doomed to failure. When Jesus touches us with his mystical graces, what happens? Our eyes are opened and we are Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 dissatisfied with everything. This overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction could very well be Jesus' most precious gift of all. But it does not seem so to us~ We look within and discover the same faults and vices we have always been burdened with. Prayer has become almost unbearable. Spiritual things in general lose their familiarity and joy. Panic deepens. Life seems turned upside down and inside out. Above all this, the knowl-edge that we have failed the Lord, that we have dropped the standard, that the battle is being lost--this is our deepest sorrow. But although all seems lost, what we experience in reality is the finding of our true life in Jesus. Like our primitivegirl, we, too, begin to realize, at last, that only in Jesus will we find our ever present redemption from our dreaded poverty. Retreat masters, spiritual directors and confessors will do us the greatest favor if they direct their efforts toward instilling in us an abiding trust in the all-loving Providence of God and in the saving life of Jesus. They should help us to mistrust ourselves and to surrender ourselves into His hands. They should teach us to cling to him no matter how dark things seem to be, teach us to have faith in his love and in his forgiveness no matter what we think we have done; no matter how we think we have failed. Signs of Progress What are the signs by which spiritual directors may gauge for certain real progress in contemplatives? Some of the outward manifestations of an inward mystical encounter or of infused contemplation might be the following: We contemplatives might describe to directors an experience of a deep and painful knowledge of ourselves, for we begin to see ourselves as we truly are. We may say that all our illusions are b~ing shattered, especially our illusions of self-importance. We may tell them that all our cherished ambitions are unmasked for the first time, or that we feel our dignity has been overthrown. We will, perhaps, tell them that we are lost; that we are not sure any more if we are leading dedicated lives at all. We exper!ence a growing sense of insecurity. At the same time, strange as it may seem, we experience at~ acceptance of this state. As our native girl found when she op~ned her heart to everything her husband had to offer her, so we contemplatives begin to see everything in a different light. Our lives of austerity, our efforts at mortification will acquire a deeper significance. We understand that as God is our life, we must let nothing take the edge off our need for him. This is a new way of living out our hunger and thirst, our refusing to be satisfied. We are consenting to have no security and no other satisfaction but God; a God who is unseen and unfelt. So near is he and so awesome, that unless we say "Yes" to him all the time, and accept life as he gives it, we must return to our valley of poverty. The temptation to turn back can be overwhelming. But it is also true that we are given a powerful strength at this time, enabling us to persevere. All this, of course, is an effect of Jesus' lox;e for us. We remember, indeed we cannot for a The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction moment forget, that any enrichment in us is all his doing. Still, this is a time of great struggle and temptation. Perhaps the greatest temptation will be to abandon prayer or at least to try to escape, in some way, the grievous suffering of a deep emptiness and poverty within. This empty prayer, however, has tremendous importance. If we consent to wait humbly for the Lord, we will, all unknowingly, find that it is precisely in this arid waste that Jesus is touching us. At this juncture, the contemplative might tell the director of an experience of being literally undone and remade, for there are no half measures any longer. What is really happening is that our faith is being deepened all the time. A sure sign that we contemplatives have not made progress will be precisely the certainty that we have! Alternatively another certain sign of growth might be the gradual disappearance of a tendency to criticize and find fault. There appears instead, a more gentle outlook; a kinder and more compassionate approach, thanks be to God. Love: Human and Divine Love has been our theme all the way through. But now I would like to be a li'ttle more specific about love, I mean the place of both human and divine love in the contemplative life. I think we will all agree that human affection is probably the most sweeping emotion in us. So, from the outset, we need to keep these two loves, the human and the divine, in order, lest the human sweep us off the foundation of the divine. To feel attraction for another, of course, is not wrong. Yet, for some of us, it can and does become a .dangerous thing. We fear to admit our feelings and to accept them, for the very difficulty in doing so can pose a thousand problems for us. At the same time, we know that this is the only healthy approach. It means we are accepting our sexuality and womanliness. I wonder if any of us ever fully grasps what a block to God's transforming action lies in the refusal to face up to and integrate our sexuality, and live it out continently for the glory of God? The Carmelite, Sr. Ruth Burrows states: "Being sexual means basically that 1 am a half and. not a whole. I am incomplete as I am and I tend, unconsciously, always to seek my other half, even though consciously, ! have renounced my right to marry and have children and be made whole by another. But grace does not work fully in a half person, so I struggle to love purely though it be through a great deal of suffering, because Jesus has promised to fill my emptiness with himself and so take away the ache of loneliness. If I am to become whole it will be in him and I must live in the hope of becoming whole in him and in him alone." The greatest danger is that we will try to get rid of the pain. We will even deny that these desires and attractions exist because they do not fit our stereotypic image of "the holy nun for whom God is enough." When we deny these feelings, the temptation will be to seek compensation for what we have given up. Frustrated longing comes to the surface sooner or later. It shows itself in outward behavior 3tl / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 such as domination of others, maternalism (or paternalism), or a passive or child-ish dependence. Who hasn't encountered these types in religious life? There are the old maids or bachelors. They will avoid personal involvements of every kind. In the name of holy recollection, they "keep their hearts for God alone." They are afraid to make friends and so they play it safe. Then there are the frustrated wives and mothers--and we might add, frus-trated fathers. These have never faced up to the truth of their feelings and desires. So they live on compensations instead of on God. They use their friends selfishly, looking for gratification from them. They dominate.and control other lives for their own ends, thinking all the while that this is "holy freedom" and "human fulfillment." To get back to us women: a woman, by nature, is meant to be selfless, receptive, wholly intent on giving and loving, that others 'might become them-selves. But when we see so many religious women leave their institutes these days, giving up their vocation and going back to secular life, we're not judging them when we ask, "Could it be that they did not get the help they needed in this problem of love?" Perhaps they found no one to understand their problem. Was there anyone to whom they could have gone for guidance amid these conflicting feelings, desires and attractions? I think we all need to know that it's alright to feel attraction and affection for others, especially for those of the opposite sex. I think we need to hear again and again that the feeling of attraction is only one side of love; that it may lead to love but that it is not itself real love but only a feeling. And like any feeling, it will not last thus forever. In the meantime, the tension in which we are caught, between our desires for exclusive love and our commitment to universal love, needs some level-headed self-control. We need someone to encourage us tO effort, watchful-ness and patience, humility and trust in divine grace. The struggle will teach us to rely on a spiritual power higher than our own nature. There is no doubt that we will grow from this struggle, which with God's help will become creative. We will learn to grow up, to take total responsibility for our own lives, their choices and decisions. And we will allow no one and nothing to turn us away from the principles by which we wish to live. The ultimate answer is found only when Jesus is re'peatedly placed before us as the object of our whole desire, and when, by repeated redirection, we are gradually transformed into him. Viva Memoria Finally, there comes a time when the interior rending apart, the anxiety, the sense of terrible absence are no more. The mysteries of Jesus, previously seen as the imitation of Christ giving the external principles by'which we were guided, now become our own mysteries, and we live progressively the life of Jesus; we become literally living memories. All that happens to the "personal me" begins to give joyful insight into the knowledge of Jesus himself. ~ Our venerable foundress, Mother Mary Celeste, has something to tell us about The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction this mystical state of contemplation. In her prayer our Lord speaks to her in these words which she passes on to us: "My spouse, abandon your own free will, your willing and your not willing, and leave all to my Divine Providence and my disposal. Make yourself an echo of my Willing. And if I say to you in my good pleasure: 'A cross,' then in your willing, will the cross. And if I say: 'Humiliation and contempt,' then be my echo and say, 'contempt.' And if I say: 'Kiss me with the kiss of sweet union,' then give me the most sweet echo of love and kiss me. It is in this way that you have no other desire or will than the absolute movement of my Will. Thus while you live, I, too, live as if I alone were alive in your very being, a.nd not you yourself." As with the happy couple in our love story, so it is with us: There begins the passing of those intimate glances of complete spiritual understanding. We might say that our whole occupation is love, or that prayer is our life. Either statement would be equally true. Then there is an awareness of deep contentment. That doesn't mean that growth isn't possible. In fact, it has to happen. The surrender becomes deeper and deeper, letting God do everything, totally sure that he will do so. And so ours becomes a life of deeper and deeper trust. We might end this as we began by saying, once again in the words of Sister Ruth Burrows, "Holiness in the contemplative is not a greatness but a total acceptance of human lowliness and total surrender of it to God in trust." Desert--After Fire Twisted; tortured, Bare black This land. Seared, scarred, What remnants remain. Evening whispers, "All is lost." Night mantles dark Deeper than ever touched This fire-scorched earth before. This land will heal. Soft spring rain Will sift tl~rough ashes. Bring new life to seed Concealed beneath the crusted earth. The cross is fire too And bare its wood Which must be aflame Before the Paschal morning dawns To heal and renew. Sister Miriam John, R.G.S. Patterdell 1820 W. Northern Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85021 Indwelling Prayer: Centering in God, Self, Others David J. Hassel, S.J. This article~ is a chapter from a book, Radical Prayer, which Father Hassel hopes soon to publish. An earlier article, "The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action," appeared in the issue of May, 198 I. Father continues to reside at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. The most radical of all types of prayer may well be indwelling prayer, for its quiet power pulses the movements of all other types of prayer. Indeed, the praying person, carried along by the seeming passivity of indwelling prayer, drifts closer and closer to the inmost self where the~ majestic God waits to welcome him or her warmly. In the attempt to delineate this deepest prayer, the reader's familiarity with various forms of more active prayer will be used as contrasting background for recognizing and appreciating more passive prayer. Some of these more active types of prayer would be: 1) problematic prayer wherein one reviews personal problems with the Lord while expressing various needs arising from them (e.g., peace in a troubled mar-riage, a job sought in the midst of a depressed economy, success in collegiate studies, mental health for a troubled daughter, good weather for the tourist season); 2) insight prayer (meditation): seeing the spiritual meaning of, e.g., a gospel event, a striking sentence in a saint's biography, a friend's casual but penetrating remark, a shocking event witnessed by chance; 3) spaced vocalprayer in which one spaces out the words of a favorite vocal tThe comments of James F. Maguire, S.J., of Edmund Fortman, S.J., and of Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., were especially incisive in revising this article for publication. 36 Indwelling Prayer / 37 prayer like the Our Father in order to discover and to reflect upon the fuller meaning of each phrase; 4) gospel contemplative prayer: seeing, hearing, feeling the gospel event as it unfolds in one's imagination; introducing oneself imaginatively into the scene as a friend of the apostles, as a servant girl, as a sick shepherd; 5) petitionary prayer: asking for God's help, e.g., to bring this person back to church, to relieve this person's mental agony, to be able to handle this court case well; 6) liturgicalprayer: the community finding God together in the sacred event of Eucharist, baptism, marriage, anointing of sick, reconciliation of sinners, and so on; 7) affective prayer: wherein feelings of hope, love, fear, anger, and desire (for God, for various virtues for saving situations, for the saints and for friends) operate. These are, of course, not ~all the forms of more active prayer, but they serve to illustrate the meaning of the term more active prayer for our purposes here. Familiarity with these types of more active prayer will later enable one to recognize, by experiential contrast, more passive prayer, and, hence, indwelling ;prayer, the probable source of all types of more passive prayer. Consequently, our first task is not to define abstractly more active prayer against more passive prayer, but instead, to get the "feel" of each by contrasting their diverse types of presence to God, self, and the world. This demands that, in ~/second step, we explore the experience of "presence" and ~ote the paradoxes arising in the presence constitut-ing more passive prayer. Thirdly, we will investigate whether more active and more passive prayer cancel out or nourish each other. In a fourth step, we note how those entering into more passive types of prayer, often undergo the discouraging feeling of prayerlessness, a purifying experience which paradoxically leads into awareness of the indwelling prayer underlying the more passive forms of prayer. At this point, we are finally ready to enter the life-rhythms of indwelling prayer and to search out the ways of doing this trinitarian prayer at the center of our being. Here, too, it should become clear why trinitarian prayer could be the presence underlying all types of prayer. For it reveals death and resurrection at new depths in our being. But for the present let us begin to deal with the diverse presences of more active and more passive prayer. The Diverse Presences of More Active and More Passive Prayer To distinguish more active prayer from more passive prayer is not to abandon one for the other, not to put a premium on one over the other, nor to deny their need of each other. But it is to see how they promote each other and to note how more passive types of prayer are rooted in indwelling prayer. Here definitions can mean nothing if they do not touch our prayer experience, or if they are ambiguous enough to bag together all types of prayer indiscriminately. Therefore we must distinguish these different types of prayer by describing the diverse experiences in which they occur. Let us begin such a process by first trying to discover the root of 311 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 more active prayer. Seven types (among many) of more active prayer were mentioned earlier. Actually all types of more active prayer seem to burgeon out of a single root, a "stretching out to the Lord." What is this stretch? It may well be an attitude towards others which the average good person has. To illustrate this, answer the following questions, and notice what you discover within yourself: i) Why not sleep later than usual today?--Suppose you do inconvenience some people like those in the car pool, like the spouse waiting at the breakfast table, like the other workers in the ,office or at the assembly line, like the students in the classroom? 2) Why pay attention at breakfast to the kids'chatter and the spouse's com-plaints about the leaking roof when the morning paper would be so much more interesting? 3) Why get to work a little bit early in order to get the jump on things so that the day goes better for everyone? 'Why not let others worry about the day? 4) Why help out at this or that emergency when you've got your own job to get done, too? Why not tell them to do the best they can without you since you're busy? 5) Why break off a lively lunch conversation to answer a telephone call or to listen to Henry's usual request for a loan to tide him over the weekend? 6) Why use your midafternoon break for correcting Jenny's letter to the man-ager protesting his failure to put her in charge of the secretary pool? 7) Why correct the kids at the dinner table when it's so much eas'ier to let things go and pretend you didn't see or hear it? 8) When you're dead tired and comfortably waiting for the T.V. news to come on or when you are just starting to relax with a little hi-fi music, why agree to hear the spelling lesson or arbitrate the latest argument betw, een the ten year old and the eleven year oM? 9) Why end and start your day with prayer at the tioes you're most tired? And why go to early Mass on your golf or hairdresser's day and also on Sunday, the only times you can sleep in? In other words, why keep stretching, stretching, stretching through the day unless there is a person waiting at the end of the stretching~ unless there is the Christ or the Father or the Spirit? This refusal to protect yourself from others and from God is a mysterious attitude.'Could it pbssibly be the lure of your vocation, the strength of your friendship with Christ (and therefore with his people, your people)? Could this attitude even be the taproot of 'all the types of more active prayer in your life? Could it even be the basic source of your contentment with life underneath all its irritations, failures, missed opportunities, and dashed hopes? Of course, this "stretch" attitude underlying more active prayer is. buried within one's consciousness and so it can be discovered only through the type of question-ing just completed. Yet is there riot some single directing lure running like'a golden thread through the "stretch" of the day to gi~,e direction and meaning to one's life? Indwelling Prayer And does this thread not lead eventually to the attractive Christ who alone makes fitting sense out of one's life? How can a person stretch out to all the needy unless first God is stretching out to him or her? .Here active prayer is seen as presence to the world and its needs--a presence inspired by Christ's appealing call. It would seem, then, that we may have tapped the root of more active prayer and are now ready to find the source of more passive prayer. More. passive prayer is often defined as a resting in God or a quiet'alertness to God and to others. Thomas Green describes it as "floating freely in th~ sea of God," as allowing God to direct oneself wherever he wills.2 In common with more active prayer, it is a refusal to protect oneself, it is an availability to God and to others. This common element,,hints at a deeper experience underlying both more active and more passive prayer and uniting them. And yet these two types of. prayers are quite different .since more passive prayer is often like a sinking into one's inner depths to find God; while more active prayer is a stretching out to others and to God in others. Even when more passive prayer is awareness of a God-vibrancy in clouds, trees, animals, and people's faces, voices, gestures, it nevertheless is more a stirring in the depths of one's being than a reaching out to touch. Even when one becomes aware of God somehow speaking and acting through the other person, passive prayer is more an alertness within one's own being than the message in the other's'action. Indeed, more passive prayer is, for the most part, careful listening, long waiting, occasionally a soundless crying out to God in his seeming absence. At other times, it is. allowing the Spirit to pray in me to the Father without my having any control; it is letting Jesus invade me totally,in my powerlessness and then .experiencing the resultant clash of fear and gladness within me. , ~ As more passive prayer progresses in the person, it can distill into a simple presenting of the self to the Lord. It is merely a "wanting to be with God" which is often intensified by Eucharistic presence. It is a wordless, thoughtless, imageless facing to .God. It is almost pure presence at the deepest level of experience; while in the upper levels of experience one can be .simultaneously aware of pain in one's posture, of distracting thoughts and images, of feelings of fatigue or elation. But the latter appear negligible compared to the facing of God. Here the praying person is facir~g not only God but also the mystery of presence itself. Perhaps the feeling and meaning of presence hold the key to understanding more passive prayer~ The Experience of Presence: Its Paradoxes in More Passive Prayer What is the "feel" of presence for us? It can be the invigorating experience of knowing that one's father and mother are listening proudly during one's piano 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dr), (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1978), p. 150. Just as this book is ekcellent for its descriptions of more passive prayer, so his Opening to God (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1977) describes well more active prayer and delineates simply and directly the basic principles of beginners' prayer. tll~ / Review for Relig!ous, Jan.-Feb., 1982 recital~ or watching eagerly from the basketball grandstands for one's next basket. It can also be the sense of depletion, of sinking heart, when one sees the "enemy" coming into the room, hostile and even malevolent, to observe one's expected failure. Presence can be a sustaining strength in the hospital room. No need for words or for the busy alleviating of pain, just the steady touch of being there. Presence is an enriching moment when the vast anonymity of the great airport terminal'is shattered by a familiar voice calling one's name. Sometimes "absence" can sharpen one's awareness of what presence is. One observes two people talking to each other but neither listening, each waiting impatiently for his or her turn to speak. Absence can be the "freeze" where two people working side-by-side in a bakery or in an office, condemn each other heartily and render the eight-hour day coldly miserable for each other. The politi-cal handshake can be an insult when the state's leader has shaken three hands while still talking to the first hand. Here absence hardly makes the heart grow fonder. Presence, at times, seems to grow without any effort on one's part. Old friends go to the concert together. As soon as the music begins, they~are rapt and seem-ingly totally oblivious to the other. But neither would consider for a moment going to the concert alone. Underneath the silent raptness, their friendship continues to grow quietly--a conclusion proven by a new depth of sharing as they return home amid slow, mulling conversation. Not rarely three friends hike the mountain trails for six to eight hours with only an occasional word and: an almost silent midday lunch. Yet the enjoyment of each other is intense and, underneath the quiet calm, intimacy grows. It would seem that the beauty of music and nature mysteriously sensitizes each person to the other instead of distracting each from the other. This sense of the other's person deepens over the years; familiarity does not always breed co.ntempt. The tight-knit family may have more than its share of private squabbles, but its members have a true sixth sense when one of them is in jeopardy or in deep joy and they quickly arrive to rescue or to rejoice. Such a family, over the years, develops a secret language of grimace, wink, smile and code-words which sum up a lifetime of shared sorrows and laughs; the person of each is uniquely appreciated. The lover of many years still feels a _leap of heart when the beloved comes into the room or when the lover hears the beloved's laugh from the far side of the party chatter. The lover's heart affirms the beloved's "simply being there"---apart from what he or she is saying or doing;just as the two concert-goers and the three hikers are doing more than enjoying music and nature. They find in the being of music and mountains a new way in which to resonate to each other's being, i.e., to grow in the intimacy of friendship. For what is intimacy if not this acquired ability to live deeply with each other, to resonate in each other's very being, in such a way that friends can, on occasion, say to each other: "It doesn't really matter much where we go or what we do so long as we are together." Such intimacy, expressed through quick knowing glance, light caress, exuberant play, and the clasp of hand, perdures and grows at the being-level in emergency rooms, during sweaty decision-times about job and fam- Indwelling Prayer ily, on the beach, at the "graduation ceremonies" of the retarded child, at the birthday parties, within the many hasty breakfasts and more leisurely suppers. From all this, could one say that "presence" is intimacy or mutual resonance at the level of being? If so, then this could reveal much about the dynamics between more active and more passive types of prayer. If presence would be deep awareness of the other's very being, then "the prayer of simple presence" to God could be the praying person's affirming of God's being and God's affirming of the praying person's being. In more passive prayer of simple presence, one becomes aware of Christ and of his interests because one now allows him to enter oneself and one's work at the level of one's very being or personhood? In more passive prayer, God becomes more real for the praying person because the latter lets God be more real, i.e., lets God be Being Itself. The praying person does this by refusing to box up God within her or his own ideas, theories, and expectations. Rather, this person allows God to act in him or her: by remaining passive, he or she gives God time to become more present to the self. Paradoxically, then, more passive prayer renders a person more fully present to God and to self than does more active prayer. Through more passive prayer, the person becomes literally a being-for-God. Indeed, the divine name, Yahweh, comes to mean not merely "I am who am" but also "I am the One who will be for you." Is it possible that at this juncture we have reached that basic attitude of prayer which underlies all other attitudes of prayer? Is this the most radical of all prayers? For this basic attitude is the very being of a person as a "being-for-God." At this point, a second paradox comes into view. In more passive prayer, because the praying person is more present to self and to God at the level of being, he or she can now meet others at their being-level, not just humans but also animals, plants, and even non-vital things like mountains, rivers, fire, and stars. For with the experience of God's tender regard for oneself as unique and undying comes the ability to appreciate others as having unique worth and destiny. It is no wonder, then, that through more passive prayer, the praying person paradoxically becomes more actively present to the whole wide world. Even distant horizons are expanded by the intimate depth at which beings resonate with each other. For this reason more passive prayer renders the praying person more active in works for the family, the neighborhood, the Church--and also more hopeful because more trusting of the Holy Spirit's activity in the self and in others. More passive prayer, in making the perso.n less trusting of his or her own activity apart from God, has enabled the person to become more bold for the Church by 3Karl Rahner speaks of this passivity when describing the conditions of transcendence. "[Transcen-dence] may not be understood as an active mastering of the knowledge of God by one's own power, and hence also as a mastery of God himself. By its very nature subjectivity is always a transcendence which listens, which does not control, which is overwhelmed by mystery and opened up by mystery . Transcendence exists only by opening itself beyond itself, and, to put it in biblical languag,e, it is in its origin and from the very beginning the experience of being known by God himself" (Foundations of Christian Faith [New York: Seabury, 1978], p. 58). 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 allowing God to enter the self and to power the latter's actions. This is where personal vanity becomes reduced and the confidence in self-sacrifice gets increased. Evidently, the more passively praying person is more consciously a "being-for- God" and more clearly sees God as "I am the One who will be for you." The Differences Challenge and Nourish Each Other At this point having described more active and more passive prayer for them-selves, we are now in position to etch out their differences and to discover why these two types of prayer are called "more active" and "more passive" rather than simply active and passive prayer. It would appear that more active prayer is more conceptual than its counterpart, that is, more concerned with ideas and insight. It is also more creatively imaginative as it deals with plans of action, options for decisions, visions for the future, ambitions for the present. Again, more active prayer is more consciously integrative around a central idea or insight: "As 1 see it, the one great value in life is . "or "The central theme in my prayer is . " It is more apt to try to control: "We could set up this system of priorities, then get that done immediately; then . " It is more energetic, that is, more work oriented, more prone to gathering achievements. Finally, it is more bodily, because action in the world is incarnated through the body. On the other hand, more passive prayer is more affective than conceptual, more conscious of feelings for the other and in the other; therefore; it is more value oriented than vision enthralled. It is also more receptive than creative in its use of the imagination; thus, art and nature speak out more clearly and enter more movingly into the person praying more passively. It is more integrative by person or spirit than by idea: "This person loves me and so 1 can take the hard knocks ahead," or "1 don't quite understand her plan, but I trust her and will do what she says," Indeed, more 'passive prayer is, strangely, more spontaneous than con-trolled; it is more disturbing, more surprising, more dangerous to a person's careful selfishness. One says more often: "This happening in prayer wa~ a rather unex-pected revelation for me; I'm not sure 1 like this turn of events." Again, in more passive prayer there is more waiting, more expectancy, more sharp listening: "Nothing seems to be happening for days, and then boom ."Finally, it is more soulful in its reflective sinking into the self to find God. It should be clearer now that one must name these two types of prayer more active and more passive lest we split the personality of prayer. For both types are active and both are passive but with different emphases. For example, both use concepts, imagination, and feelings; but more active prayer is more conceptual than affective and the reverse is true of passive prayer. More active prayer deals more often with the creative imagination and more passive prayer works more often with the receptive imagination; but both types of prayer, working' in one and the same imagination, use not only the creative but also the receptive function of the imagination. All this would seem to point to their radical unity, especially since in both types the praying person has the intent not to prote,ct and to comfort the self but rather Indwelling Prayer / 43 to be available to God and to his people. Indeed, it would appear that either type of prayer would go slack and die without the appropriate challenge of the other type: Without the "stretch" of more active prayer, more passive prayer could wallow deep in the self and even forget God, much more his people. Without the "reflective sinking into being" of more passive prayer, more active prayer can end up in such a welter of action that the "stretch" could one day shred into a thousand loose strands of frenetic, superficial activities having no center of being, no rever-ence for others, no undying future. But actually, both types of prayer can challenge and nourish the other. More active prayer is concerned with "putting it all together," with having the world make final sense, so that the world is somehow under control. More active prayer works that the praying person may "have it all together," may be totally integrated as a wholesome person, not fragmented or tormented, so that the praying person may control her or his destiny. On the other hand, more passive prayer forces the praying person to face the fact that he or she is a being totally dependent on God whom he or she must trust in the midst of personal fragmentation and of a world gone awry~ More active prayer wants the resurrection now and the beatific vision now just as they are promised in every love song; in all ~great poetry and drama, and in the apocalyptic literature of the Bible. In contrast, more passive prayer demands that the praying person wait and listen, become excruciatingly aware of shortcomings and sins within one's being or personhood, know his or her absolute powerlessness to do anything worthwhile apart from God, be content for now with much less than immediate resurrection and beatific vision. Neither prayer denies the truth of the other's intent; neither claims to have all the truth, but each challenges the other to greater realism about self, God, and the world. Each depends on the challenge of the other as more active prayer aims at total wholesomeness of self and world in God and as more passive prayer aims at enduring the fragmentation of self and dislocation of world until God heals them both~ There is, however, more than challenge between the two types of prayer. Each nourishesand promotes the other. The more active forms of prayer (e.g., the seven mentioned earlier) lead into the more passive forms of prayer, which in turn.root more deeply the ensuing more active forms of prayer. For example, meditative or mental prayer focuses the praying person's powers on particular objects such asan event of Christ's life, Mary's motherhood of the Church, the mystery of the Eucharist, God's plan for the individual or gr

Issue 38.1 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. 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 January, 1979 Volume 38 Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW Fort R~LICIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, 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. Review for Religious Volume 38, 1979 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108" Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, SJ. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate 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 © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Stewardship, Justice and the Religious Purpose in Education William J. Byron, S.J. Father Byron is President'of Scranton Univergity; Scranton, PA 18510. ere are three ideas°ar'ound which I would like toor, ganize this essay. The first two., stewardship and justice, will be relat~ ely brief. The tfiird notion concerns ou~" religious purpose in edu'cation. I holSe to develop it'in~ a way that will make a case for the educ~itional apostolate as'an +xercise of stewardship arid an instrument of justice. Stewardship It has been interesting to obser~ve in the 15as! several°years a renewed' interest in the notion of s~eWardshil5°in the Catholic 'community. We are discove'ring (or rediscoverifig) that"riOt ~0nly is stewardship a simple term, it is also an uncbmplicated~solutioh to significant portions "of some major s~ciai prolSlems. In practice, stewardship is an instrument of social justice. Reflo~ztiOn°ofi'ste~a~dghil~ might begin with the first verse of the Twdfity-fourth Ps~l~a: '"The earth is the Lord's iind"the fulhess thereof." All of material 6reation, as Well as all wealth flowing from it, b~longs to God. Wealth possessed ~r~produced by human persons is owne~ by' God. We own nothing abs0iut~ly; all We have we hold in trust. Thi~ is the ffiith foundation of th6 stewardship perspective. As composites c~f body and soul, we include our intellectual and spiritual resources as part, of the basic endowment which belongs ~to the Lord: Our use of both ~nateri~l and immaterial r~sources is intended to be an exercise of ste,.wafdshio.~ , .~ 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 All we have we hold in trust for other~for those who inhabit this planet with us.now, and for those who will live here in the future. Stewardship has inescapable societal obligations. Why do I say all we have is held in trust for others? Why not owned by God and held by me for my personal use? Why the social dimension? Possession of a particular share of created resources may be private, but that private share cannot be used without regard for others. There are two considerations here: one of equity, the other of responsibility. On the equity side I have to ask, "Is my share a fair one relative to the needs and claims of others?" Put another way, does my share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of others?" The equity issue quite obvi-ously relates more immediately to the possession and use of material re-sources rather than to those that are spiritual and intellectual. It is not necessary for someone to .know less mathematics so that I might know more. My food supply, however, may be held at the expense of someone less fortunate than I. Broadening the equity consideration from the individhal person to a larger group (as, for instance, one's race or nation) one can ask the equity question this way: does my group's share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of other groups-? The responsibility consideration looks to the future. Are resources being used now in a way that will provide for future generations a secure basis for their existence? Again, this is easier to see with respect to material re-sources. If we depli~e our oil supplies, will they have an alternative source of-energy? If we pollute our lakes and streams, will they have ffater to drink? If we fail to sustain our soil, will they have bread to sustain their lives? What we refer to as "our" resources are also theirs, for they, like us, are sons and daughters of the sole owner, the Lord, who has entrusted his creation to our care and for our use. We are stewards. We own nothing absolutely. All we have we hold in trust. As inhabitants of this earth at this time, we religious educators, like our feilow~ on this planet, have stewardship responsibilities. As members of a religious community, moreover, we possess a tradition, a history, a style, some physical assets and an impressive array of spiritual and intellectual resources. We own none of these absolutely; all of these we hold in trust. We are stewards of this collective religious-community endowment. We face, therefore, considerations of equity and responsibility as we manage our collective endowment. The equity donsideration relates directly to justice and will be discussed in the next part of this article when we have to ask ourselves whether our share of these resources represents an unfair gain taken ai the expense of others. The responsibility consideration looks, as I suggested earlier, to the future. Are we using our resources, particularly our intellec.tual and spir-itual resources, in a way that is likely to enrich the lives of future inhabitants Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education of this planet?°The steward is in charge ofla household he does not.own. Is that ho, usehold being maintained by us in a state of apostolic readiness for effective service now and in the future? The story in ,Luke 16:1-8 of the "unjust steward" or "dishonest manager" serqi~s as a reminder that we can miSlase or misapply our heri-tage; we can indeed violate the trust that is ours. Failure to meet our responsibilities as stewards would mean failure to preserve a heritage that the Lord, the dominus, the owner of the householdmay well intend to have available for the service of future generations. To take my own Jesuit household as an example, I would include in my list of the central elements of the heritage that is now ours tb use and to preserve for the future these four: (1) The Spiritual Exercises, (2) development of the intellect, (3) service to the Holy See, and (4) apostolic flexibility. These four elements suggest that the Society of Jesus intends to foster in itself an embodiment of(1) holiness, (2)learning, (3) service to the Church, and (4)availability for necessary service ~an. ywhere in the world. ,~ Further specification of these elements rais'es four disturbing questions and one simple observation. The questions are these: 1. Does the prefer-ence .for poverty which characterizes The Spiritual Exercises also charac-terize the holiness of the Society today? 2. Does the emphasis on learning, present at the origins of the Society, remain an active emphasis in thisstage of the Society's growth and in all stages of the individual Jesuit's growth? 3. Does service to the Church of Christ and to the Vicar of Christ charac-terize our labors now as in the days of our origins? 4. Are we individually and collectively free to move our heritage and our resources in the direction of the greatest need, wherever that may be? The one observation I ~ould want to make in connection with the stewardship of the Jesuit heritage is this: formal education through the operation of schools, although part of the Jesuit tradition, is neither essen-tial to the heritage nor identifiable as an element that characterizes, the origins of the Society of Jesus. Similar reflection~, questions and observations can be directed toward the heritage and "household management" of any other religious commu-nity. " .~ o,~ 7 Justice Justice is symbolized by trays in balance on a scale. We speak of the "scale~ of justice." ~Vhen one tray yields weight to the other and imbalance occurs, the weights have to be adjusted to restore the balance. Imbalance symbolizes injustice; compen.sation makes adjustment (ad-just-ment), '~the achievement of justice, possible. Three years ago it was my privilege to address the New Orleans (Jesu'it) Province Assembly on th~ justice dimension of our apostolates~ In that paper I asked, "is ~our corporate apostolic service compensatory; are we 6 /ReviewforReligious; Volum~e 38, 197911. throwing our weight ~onto .the side of the oppressed?" I went on to say Symbolidally, justice is ~+l~resented by trays in balance on a scale.- The unbaladce of social injustice, where one group's advantage (th 'down tray) is taken at the expense .of another group (the up tray) calls for compensatory action.As a social group, we Jesuits should sh~ft our weight over to the weak stde. We see gaps between r, ch and poor, powerful and powerless, advantaged and disadvantaged. In exercising our min- " istry of justice, by whatever apostolic instruments, we sl~duld, it seems to me. trans- "' late the ideal of the Third Mode of humility into practice by choosing to be with Christ and as Christ---on the short side of all those gaps. Where do we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income, our apostolic energy? One of the delegat6s to that assembly was the talented young lawyer-activist Alfred C. Kammer, S.J. In the question peribd following my talk, he expressed his personal view that the Society, as a group, occupier solidly and squarely the down tray in most" of the gap-comparisons that come to mind. In his recent contribution to Studies in the' Spirituality of Jesuitst Fr. Kammer~returns to my question, "Where d6 we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income; our apostolic ener-gy?" and addresses it in these words: Th~ activist answers Father Byi'on's question by saying that the Society largely casts ' its weight with the "haves.'"with those who at best "don't care" and at worst are'the oppressors. He sees the institutional and personal weight of the Society lined up with the "haves" in such popular dichotomies as .these: white vs. black white vs. brown male vs. female U.S. vs. Third;World powerful vs. , powerless rich vs. poor . suburban vs. urban well-educated vs. poorly educated And, Fr. Kammer continues, "the,activist concludes that no matter how much Jesuits 'tinker' with their present .institutional commitments to facilitate the entry of some minority composed of the poor or disadvan, taged, th~e,.Society's weight is stii! .cgs.t overwhelmingly on the side of the well-off" (p~p. 10-11). I think Fred Kammer locates us Jesuits correctly. Weigh'ted do~v~ with the advantages of education, nutrition, health care, secure housing and all the other physical things necessary for our work, as well as those things less necessary but useful and convenient, we are on the down. tray, on the side of the well-off. Now_this raises many quegtions. What is the relatedness or relati0nship-between us and those who are less well off, those on the up tray, the disadvantaged. Are we Wher~we are because they are where they are? Has our gain been taken at their expense? With whom do we side when the issue ~" 'Burn-out' Contemporary Dilemma for the Jesuit Social Activist." Vol. X. No. 1, January 1978. Stewardship~ Justice and Purpos~e in Education is ,raised of redressing the balance? Without attempting to answer these difficult questions, I raise another that resurrects the,notion of stewardship. What are we do~ing ._with what we have? Do we manage it responsibly, share its, apply it,to the i,mprovement of life for others now and in the future? The Religious, CommUnity's Purpose in Education Many if,not most of us religious in America are stewarding our resources in an institutional educational environment. Will our stewardship-have anything .significant to contribute to .the promotion of justice? It may well be true that ~tinkering with our institutional arrangements will not shift our weight completely and existentially to the side of the poor and powerless. One need not conclude, however, that we must abandon our advantages. Nor does it follow that the down tray is necessarily the wrong place for' many religious to be. If we de=institutionalized our works, if wee gave away every physical asset we igossess ~nd went to live with the poor, poverty wo(dd be fieither relieved nor ~r~duced. We ar~ ~lo~t,lbcked 'into an adversary rel~ti6h~hip on the side ofth( rich againstth6 po6÷, 0n the side of whites against the blacks, on the side of a@ dominantgroup agaii~st any oppressed minoi'ity. We are in a position to'convert the "versus" linkages into hyphens find to forge connecting links of ~:econciliation between rich and poor, black and white, and other- di~,ided ~roups. A~dmittedly, many if not :most of us, a?e on the down tray. Admittedly, all occupants of the down tray will have to give somethingup if some semblance of balance is to b~.realized, and'most are unwilling to give up anything. And admittedly, the effort tO~'fi'chieve a balance between the trays is uphill and long range. But that is ttie.hatu're of the work we are called to do. Are we'free enough to do l~h~at i,v~b{k well? Central to an~ educational ~ork isthe develop~ment 0f"tiun~a~] potential. Human potential stretches into eternity;~the positive~side toward union with the Creatoi"bf that human p0t.e0[i-hl; the negative side points to the possibil: ity of eterh~i! alienation. , Formai education's inte{ests are coextensive with the entire range of positi~,e p~ssibiliti~s for human development. Recognition of this fact came early in Jesuit historY,. For more th~n four centuries now, we have been choosing formal education as an extr~brdinarily v~luable instrument for our work in the development of hum~.n potential. Many other religious in-sii'tutes have made'the same decision. ,:~ ,,~ ¯ At.this moment in our history, we Jesuits of the United States are faced with a.decline in numbers,'a fairly widespread loss.of nerve, some uneasi-ness ,about the appropriateness of our life-style and our ability, to live harmoniously and work effectively in companionship, and we are also faced with nagging doubts about.the apostolic value of what we are doing in,our schools. Our experience is.not uriique. In addition, we Jesuits have~lSeen challenged to redefifi~ ourselves~.and our mission.in terms of the service of 8 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 faith and the promotion of justice: Can this redefinition and concommitant rededication happen without abandonment:of our commitment.to formal educatiori? I think it can. Our Jesuit purpose in education is a logical extension of our stewardship and justice responsibilities.~And the same is true for many other religious. Formal education's interests are coextensive with the entire range of positive possibilities for human development. That is why religious communities choose formal education for their members, and choose to offer formal education to others. Higher education touches that ra.nge" of positive possibilities in a priv-ileged way. Wisdom is areal possibility at the stage of human development associated with higher education. At this level it is the privilege of educa-tors to group themselves into communities of inquiry which may become or beget wisdom communities,. The religious purpose in higher education is to move the minds and hearts of developing persons. The direction of this movement is Godward. The norm is truth. The outcome, it is to be hoped, is wisdom. And wisdom, we would all agree, is a gift from God. As the religious is a faith-committed person, so religious education is intended to be faith-commjttedactivity. If, as faith directs, everything depends on God, then wisdom would suggest that every'thing must be entrusted to God. If such wisdom is present with us at the beginning of religiously sponsored education, it may well be expected to reside with our students at the end of the edpcati0nal experi-ence. Any religious experience involves a search for God's will. This search, in the vocabulary of spirituality, goes b.y the name of discernment. And discernment, as we all know, is a wisdom characteristic. As any Jesuit knows, the Igna.tian way of discernment cannot be learned, from books. It can only be exp,grienced under the direction of a sensitive gpide. Hence, a special task, a privileged opportunity for Jesuits in higher education is to offer the e,xperience' of The Spiritual Exercises to those in .the learning community who want to grow spiritually. In the context o'f the Exercises, as in the classroom, learning should be directed by a motivator-organizer and assimilated by an active participant in the process. As a classroom educator or spiritual guide, the Jesuit, as an instrument of God's grace, is expected to assist the Spirit in moving the minds and hearts of those who want to grow. -' In the domain of higher education, there are many with the potential for wisdom. That is why Jesuits gather there to work. Their task is not only to teach and search for truth in all its forms, but also to share their founder's special grace with those who want to grow the Ignatian way. The Ignatian way toward wisdom is part of the heritage, the endowment over which every Jesuit exercises a stew~irdship responsibility. His antecedent respon-sibility; of course, is to have internalized the Ignatian way. His educational methods :will; not surprisingly, reflect it. Normally, his desire will be to live and work in companionship with others who are familiar with the Ignatian Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education way. And the Jesuit's hope, wherever he works, will be to share this way Or see it shared with others. That is responsible stewardship. It is also part of the Jesuit purpose in education. Parallel purposes, hopes and apostolic approaches characterize the work of other religious who are educators. There is much of a practical nature that (ould be said of education-for-justice efforts now underway in Catholic educational institutions. A lot of experience is accumulating. Rather than listing courses, projects and field experiences of demonstrated value, I would prefer to mention only one program that is designed to assist all educators in addressing the world hunger issue. Atthe 1974 World Food Conference in Rome, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger pledged the cooperation of the United States to work with other nations so that "within a decade no child will go to bed hungry" anywhere in the world. In hopes of facilitating contributions from educational institu-tions toward this goal, Bread for the World Educational Fund launched in 1976 a Decade of Commitment on World Hunger (DCWH). The program is designed for institutions of higher education. It provides conference oppor-tunities for administrators, faculty, campus ministers, career guidance counselors and students to share ways of placing and keeping hunger on the academic agenda. Emphasis is placed on four areas within which colleges ~:an deal with the hunger issue: curriculum, research, campus ministry and career choices made by students ("In the face of the world hunger problem, what are.you going to do with your life?").?~ Som~ of.the best work in justice-education is happening in secondary schools. Again I refrain from listing the specifics. I would, however, like to say a word about the person of the secondary educator. To put it more pr.ecisely, I would like to repeat a great theologian's reflections on the value of the person and importance of the work of the religious who is a high school_teacher. The Jesuit secondary educator is the man John Courtney Murray, de-scribed with admiration and affection as "The Schoolmaster." He spoke of the schoolmaster as the grammarian, the person who is knowledgeable in the elements of his subject, whose knowledge is, in this sense, elementary but certainly not superficial. The schoolmaster is devoted to the communi-cation of these elements as a lifetime work. Being a schoolmaster, said Fr. Murray to a Jesuit audience at Woodstock in 1961, is '~being on the growing edge of things, beca.use the growing edge is youth." "We are supposed to be Jesuit ministers of growth," he added, "'ad profectum animarum." "We are supposed to be men of tomorrow. One of "~The Educational Fund, which can also provide worship aids and high school course-materials on hunger, is a separate corporation closely related to the Christian citi~.ens lobby known simply as Bread for the World (207 East 16th Street, New York City 10003). Membership in Bread for the World (annual dues $10) will keep one informed, by means of a monthly newsletter and background papers, about the hunger issue. "10 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 our earliest undertakings was to become schoolmasters, schoolmen. Doc-trina exacta et solida is first the tradition of the Church; it is also the tradition of reason. We are committed to an intellectual apostolate--a min-istry of and io intelligence." The schoolmaster imparts the skills and guides the maturation process. The more fully the religious schoolmaster or schoolmistress has assimilated the basic elements of his or her religious, heritage, the more valuable is he or she as a role model in the 'midst of the young. The classroom teacher's task is largely one of method and motivation; the object is to move both minds and hearts. Inevitably, the response the teacher stimulates will be a response to himself or herself. This is a privileged relationship. If the sct~oolmaster (or the scholar, for that matter) is a person of justice, a sense of justice will be communicated to the students. If the institution-alized set of arrangements known as a school embodies in its procedures relationships of justice, then those who teach and learn there will, in vary-ing degrees, embody in themselves the principles of justice. The religious schoolmaster has, of course, a life outside the classroom. There are pastoral opportunities and citizenship responsibilities. The apostolic base, the school, can and should.be a place from which the religious reaches out to the Christian and civic communities for the service of faith and promotion.of justice. That outreach will, it might be expected, involve both witness and advocacy roles in 'the cause of justice as an expression of faith. Education for justice is a challenge we religious are capable of meeting. We should have no doubt about that. Whether we will. meet it or not is another matter. But we can, if we choose. The educational outcomes, the results of our efforts to educate for justice, depend on powers beyond our own. There is no reason to believe that the Lord will not raise up men and women of justice in our midst and in our times. I recognize that there is no bne method known now to be the most effective in educating for justice. The argument over method goes back to the Aristotelian notion that the one who does justice will come to under-stand justice; and back as well to Plato's view that the one who first understands justice will then act justly. In this important matter of educat-ing for justice, we Catholic educators have a laboratory system in our American schools and colleges. We can try different methods in different situations and compare results. The findings of our experiments in educa-tion for justice can be shared with other educators in other systems. We can make a difference here. As we do it our way, in the intellectual-educational mode, unjust, ex-pioitative, discriminatory and oppressive situations will remain in our world. But in direct proportion to our success in educating fqr justice, future world situations will have a reduced share of injustice. It is a Chris-tian characteristic not to give up on the future. Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education / 11 Father BenWren, a New Orleans Province Jesuit whose scholarly inter-ests include Eastern mysticism, tells me that there is a Chinese saying to0the effect that one who is concerned with planning for a year should plant rice; the person interested in planning for a decade should plant trees. But one who wants to plan for a century will surely want to educate people. There.is a religious purpose in education. That purpose is consistent, for example, with our contemporary Jesuit focus on the service of faith and the specification of that service in the promotion ofjustice. The activist impulse suggested by the word promotion is quite congenial with our purpose and style of education. Through education; we can touch both trays on the scalEs of justice. When we work with the advantaged, we should have the disadvantaged in mind. We can challenge ourselves and all others who occupy the down tray to dedicate ourselves in conscience to making life livable for the poorest of the poor. When we work directly with the e~onom-ically disadvantaged, we can assist them in developing the competencies that can help them move toward a better life. The earliest Jesuit schools were free. But never, so far as I can deter-mine, were Jesuit schools exclusively for the poor or exclusively for the rich. Today, we are with the rich,much more than we are with the poor in our educational work. Who can say that we cannot somehow, somewhere in the decades ahead bring our educational energies into more direct contact with the poor? Who can say that we will not, in the meantime, find new and effective ways of bringing the "haves" with wtiom we work to an accept~ ance of their obligations injustice toward the "have nots"? And who woul~l want to take responsibility for disengaging ourselves from the apostolate that makes either option possible? That last question, in my view, highlights the importance of personal and community life-style for those who work in the educational apostolate. We religious in America are perfectly capable of going soft. We can indeed insulate and isolate ourselves from the condition of the disadvantaged masses. We are capable of-violating our stewardship. If that should happen, justice will not be served and the religious purpose in education will have lost its salt. In The American Mind (Yale, 1950), Henry Steele Commager remarks that for Willa Cather, the past was significant for its moral qualities. Her long literary life was, according to Commager, an elaborate remembrance of things past--the past of the pioneers who had built the West, of the immigrants who had carried with them into the New World their sense of beauty and art, of those earlier spiritual pathfinders, the Franciscans and Jesuits, who had served their fellowmen and their God so selflessly. And all her novels and stories., were animated by a single great theme as they w.ere graced by a single felicitous style, the theme was that of the supremacy of moral and spiritual over material values, the ever recurrent but inexhaustible theme of gaining the whole world and losing one's soul (p. 150). Dealing, as she did, with the frontier as the setting for many of her 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 stories, Miss Cather apparently found inspiration in the frontier idea and saw it as a setting for clarification, and dramatization of moral issues. Hence, as Commager points out, the passing of the pioneer generation meant, to Miss Cather, the passing of all the old virtues, "and she was incapable of believing that there could be different virtues in a civilization whose standards were those of the countinghouse, whose habits were predatory, and whose rewards were social and ostentatious rather than spiritual and private" (p. 154). Commager cites a tribute to Nebraska writ-ten by Willa Cather in the early 1920's: We must face the fact that the splendid story of the pioneers is finished and that no new story worthy to take its place has yet begun . The generation now in the driver's seat hates to make anything, wants to live and die in an automobile, scudding past those acres where the old man used to follow the corn rows up and down. They want to buy everything ready-made: clothes, food., education, music, pleasure; Will the third generation--the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill--be fooled? Will it believe that to live easily is to live happily.'? (p. 154). Two generations have passed since those words were written. Religious at work in Nebraska and elsewhere in America are prepared to admit that many of us in many different driver's seats have been fooled. Regrettably, some of us, by witness and word, have foolishly encouraged others to believe that to live easily is to live happily. The "new story" thatoWilla Cather was looking for in Nebraska,can be written anywhere in America by contemporary religious educators, if they choose to. I suspect that "the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill" are not now being fooled; they recognize that if we want to live happily, we will want to do what we can to make life livable for the poorest of the poor. Schools alone cannot do it and they certainly cannot do it right away. But without the schools, it will not be done at all:. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley lectures in New Testament Studies at Ushaw College, the Senior Seminary for the Northern Dioceses of Eng_l, and. He lives in the Salesian community attached to Ushaw College; Durham DH7 9RH; England. His last article, "'Jesus, Poverty and the Kingdom," appeared in the July, 1977 issue. Your vow to remain unmarried for the sake of God's kingdom will draw you into the loneliness of the cross of Jesus and reveal the basic loneliness of every man.1 In his,book The Calvary Christ Gerald O'Collins writes: "Too often a cloud of stale words covers Calvary. Theologians and exegetes can use a language remote from anything we feel. Conventional-religious art asks for our conventional reaction. Tendencies .towards evasion in all of us allow this art to continue and the dull language to grind on. We accept the old fo.rmulas, the familiar crucifixes and the ponderous pronouncements of scholars with a mixture of loyalty and mystification. We need to find and fashi6n ways of reflecting on the crucifixion which can let it speak to us again with. new power.'' How far this statement mirrors our feelings and experience, each indi-viduai must judge. I should like to suggest that one way of reflecting on the crucifixion which can indeed let it speak to us again with new power is to tRulefor a New Brother (London; Darton, Longman & Todd, 1973), p. 16. 2G. O'Collins, The Calvary Christ (London, SCM, 1977), p. ix. 13 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38,~ 1979/1 take one evangelist's presentation of the passion of Jesus, to meditate on it, and to allow its impact to challenge our lives. For each of the evangelists narrates the story in his own way, with his own particular emphases, highlighting different aspects of the drama, f~cusing different facets of the person of Jesus,.communicating his own theological vision and understand-ing of the significance of the event. Unfortunately, the originality of each approach is often blurred, and the sharpness blunted by the comfortably generalized picture which most of us have. In this article I shall concentrate on one of the motifs which dominates the passion according to Mark, namely the loneliness of Jesus.3 It is this which constitutes his greatest suffering, far more than any physical pain. In fact, Mark, as indeed the other three evangelists, evinces little interest in the physical torments of the Master, laying little stress upon them. Mark's Gospel has been called a passion narrative with a long introduction. This reminds us to view the passion within the framework of the whole Gospel; consequently, in our consideration of some of the elements of the narrative, it will be necessary to refer back to earlier sections of the Gospel. The earliest passion narratives probably began with the arrest scene. "Suddenly, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, appeared, and with him was a crowd armed with swords and ~cudgels; sent by the chief priests, lawyers and elders." The man responsi.ble .for the success of the arrest is not one of those whose constant opposition had dogged Jesus' tracks, but "one of the twelve," one of his friends. Our minds flash back to an earlier scene in which Jesus "then went up into the hill country and called the men he wanted: and they went and joined him. He appointed twelve to be with him, to be sent out to proclaim the gospel, with a commis-sion to drive out devils. So he appointed the twelve .-." (3,13-16). Discipleship is primarily a personal call to the intimacy of friendship, a being "singled out" in order to "be with." It is one of these chosen ones who had shared his fellowship who is the traitor; and the sign of his treach, ery is the normal sign of respect and friendship: "When he reached the spot, he stepped forward at once and said to Jesus, 'Rabbi,' and kissed him. Then they seized him and held him fast." The verb Mark uses here means a particularly ~iffectionate kiss, a firm embrace. After a futile act of token resist~ince which served only to emphasize Jesus' defenselessness, "they deserted him and fled, every one of them," including the~youthful follower who narrowly evaded capture. , Mark recounts this Scene with a laconic matter-of-factness that is chill-ingly disconcerting. Earlier that evening, as they walked together from the supper room to the garden, Jesus had predicted their flight: "You will all fall from .your faith; for it stands written: 'I will strike the shepherd down and the sheep will be scattered.'" And Peter, not untypically, had insisted that he would die even, rather than disown Jesus. "And they all said the same" 3cf. Hendrickx, The Passian Narratives (Manila, East Asian Pastoral Institute, 1977). Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation / 15 (14, 26-31). Yet they were not Slow to seek their own safety and leave Jesus to face his fate alone. This flight and abandonment, the memory of which haunted the early Christians, was in fact the culmination of that failure on the part of the disciples both to understand and to accept the messiahship of Jesus which Mark traces throughout this Gospel, especially after Caesarea Philippi in Chapter Eight. On that occasion, in answer to Jesus' questioning concerning people's opinions about him~ and his further probing as to the views of the disciples, Peter, as their spokesman, professed Jesus' messiahship. Jesus responded by speaking openly about his passion for the first time, which provoked a bewildered attempt to dissuade him. At this time Jesus rebuked Peter in ~strong terms for his thinking as men think rather than as God thinks, and proceeded to outline the nature of discipleship: "~nyone who wishes to be a follower of mine must leave self behind, he must take up his cross and come with me" (8,34). A little later in the narrative, as they journeyed through Galilee, Jesus again spoke of his passion, "but they did not understand what he said and were afraid to ask" (9,32). And on their way they argued about seniority and importance and greatness. Jesus predicted his passion for the third, time on the road going up to Jerusalem in terms which were unmistakably clear. The failure of the disciples to understand is illustrated by the next incident, in which the two sons of Zebedee made a bid for the top jobs in the Kingdom. The rest were naturally indignant about this, a row broke, out, and Jesus, in patient frustra-tion, attempted to open their minds to the nature of his messiahship and of his kingdom, and to the real meaning of discipleship in terms of service (10,44-45). It is this inability or unwillingness to grasp and to accept what messiah-ship meant for Jesus when this proved to be different from what the twelve were expecting and hopiag for; this inability or unwillingness to embrace in vision and in lifestyle the kind of discipleship such a messiah demanded, which expressed itself so decisively in their garden choice not to be "with him," to care for their own safety (8,35), to forsake him and flee. The next scene in the passion drama, comprises Jesus' trial before the Sanhedrin and the denials of Peter; the~e two incidents are closely inter-locked in Mark's account. '~Then they led Jesus away to the High Priest's. house, where the chief priests, elders and doctors of the law were all assembling." Already Mark has clearly designated the Jewish leaders as the ones responsible for Jesus' arrest (14,43), and he indicates each section that made up the San.hedrin, the supreme religious and legislative body. For Mark, these are his real enemies. From the early stages of the public ¯ ministry they have consistently opposed him. In Chapter Two, when the paralytic is brought to Jesus, the doctors of the law consider his talk about 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 forgiving sins quite blasphemous, and Jesus vainly attempts to open their eyes as he cures the poor man. A little while la.ter, after the call of Levi, when Jesus is at table with tax-gatherers and sinners, the Pharisees com-plain~ to his disciples about the types he"mixes with; Jesus, on hearing this, retorts, not without a touch of irony: "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick; I did not come to invite virtuous people, but sinners" (2,17). Mark now records the Pharisees' criticism of the disciples for plucking corn on the Sabbath, a complaint which stung Jesus to challenge their basic tenets in enunciating the principle that people mattered more than sabbath regulations. This incident is followed by an episode which underlines the mounting hostility, the failure of Jesus to win acceptance of the religious ~lite. It is a sabbath and Jesus goes to the synagogue, where there is a man with a withered arm. "And they were watching to see whether Jesus would cure him on the sabbath, so that they could bring a charge against him." Aware of their malicious intentions, Jesus tries to draw them, to make them aware of the perversion of religion, the distortion of the image of God, that adherence to legalistic casuistry entailed. He encountered an obstinate and ominous silence, saddening and frustrating. "But the Pharisees, on leaving the synagogue, began plotting against him with the partisans of Herod to see how they could make away with hirh." Thereafter Jesus is obliged to live and to work under the shadow of this threat. The rift widens as the ministry continues, and eventually, as the conflict approaches its climax, Jesus takes the game into their own court, openly challenging them by expelling the money-lenders and merchants from the temple .precincts. On hearing of this, the chief priests and doctors of the Law "sought some means of making away with him, for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching" (11,18). Not long afterwards Jesus spoke that indictment-parable of the wicked husbandmen. The inevitable result was that -they began to look for a way to arrest him, for they saw that the parable was aimed at them; but they were afraid of the people, so they left him alone and went away" (12,12). As that fateful final week progresses we hear of the attempts by the Phari-sees and Herod's party to entrap him in regard to the Caesar tribute (12,13), and by the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection (12,18-27); and we hear Jesus word-lash the doctors of the Law (12,38-40). And so, finally, as the Passover feast approaches, "the chief priests and doctors of the Law were trying to devise some cunning plan to seize him and put him to death" (14,1). Now these men have Jesus in their power at last. From the commence-ment of the so-called trial or enquiry, their intentions are firm and limpid; with cynical singlemindedness "they sought testimony against Jesus to put .him to death" (14,.56). Mark paints the scene in a few, bold, vivid strokes: the balking incompetence of the false witnesses; the silent, dignified, isolated figure of Jesus; his foes bent unanimously on his destruction. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Swiftly the evangelist brings the matter to a head, as the high priest asks Jesus whether he is in fact the Christ. At Jesus' open affirmation, the high priest, with an elaborate dlsplay of passionate horror, accuses him of blas-phemy; and the gathering ends as planned: "they all condemned him as deserving death' '--again Mark emphasizes the unanimity of the opposition, and the utter aloneness of Jesus. Whilst, in an atmosphe.re of frenzied hate and delighted success, Jesus is beaten and mockbd and humiliated, Mark shifts our attention to the courtyard where Peter stands by the fire warming himself in the chill night air. We are familiar with the painful description of Peter's triple denial of the Master. Mark skiifully orders them in a crescendo pattern so that the third denial is the most intense, accompanied by curses and a solemn oath. Some scholars suggest that Peter, still under fire in spite of his first two denials, resorts to the strongest possible manner of dissociating himself from Jesus by actually cursing him; this is the force to be given to that staggering disavowal: "I do not know this man you speak of"--an even more emphatic restatement of his earlier rejection of Jesus' messianic way at Caesarea Philippi. Peter, singled out to be with him, decisively opts in public not to be with him. Mark heightens the effect of this by juxtaposing the incident with the trial .scene: Jesus, true to himself and his mission, affirms what he cannot deny, his messiahship; and he is rejected by the religious leaders of his own people and by his closest follower. Alone and in chains, he is led away and handed over to pagan power (15,1). The rejection and isolation of Jesus is further accentuated in the subse-quent scene when the ordinary people shout for his death. The fickleness of crowds, the fragility of public opinion, is a commonly recognized phe-nomenon. From the statements of the Pharisees cited earlier, it would seem that Jesus continued to enjoy a considerable amount of popularity with the masses. Yet their acclaim was always suspect. Quite early in the Gospel, Mark describes the wave of enthusiasm and excitement sparked by Jesus' miracles and teaching; the people flocked to him with their sick, and hung on his words. But their response went little deeper. For the most part, they misunderstood the nature of his kingdom, the,genre of his peculiar messia-nism. They were not won to faith; they were prone to disappointment and disillusionment, with the resentful antagonism that this engenders. Now, when Pilate in a desperate effort to release him, offered the mob the option of choosing "Jesus Barabbas," as he was probably called, a freedom fighter convicted of murder, or Jesus of Nazareth, the crowd, incited by the chief priests, clamored for the insurrectionist, and screamed for Jesus to be committed to the hideous torture-death of crucifixion. We should not allow our familiarity with the story to dull our sensitivity to the poignant pain of that scene, the dreadful irony as the nation whose whole history pointed to this moment, the nation chosen out of all peoples on the face of the earth to be God's own people (Dt 7,6ff.), disowned their 11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 Emmanuel. Jesus stands there in the open, alone, the impassioned cries of the people that was his people ringing in his ears, as they chant his rejection. His bitter desolation is intensified by a sense of injustice. Even Pilate was convinced of his innocence: "Why, what harm has he done?" Thus he is abandoned tothe Roman soldiery. In his economic description of the crucifixion and death of Jesus, Mark emphasizes the solitude of Jesus by mentioning details which, because of our acquaintance with the versions of Luke and John, we are apt to over-look. After the passers-by had hurled abuse at him and mocked him in his helpless anguish, and the lawyers had jested and gibed, "even those who were crucified with him taunted him" (15,32). At the end the robbers, too, renounce his companionship; Jesus does not belong even with his fellow-sufferers. Similarly, it is only after the death of Jesus that mention is made of the women who had followed him from Galilee, and who "were watching from a distance" (15,40). At the foot of the cross there is no mother, no beloved disciple; Jesus died utterly alone. The searing anguish of his pain and loneliness arid failure is focused and captured in the loud cry from the cross: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But he died "without a word or a wink from God to reassure him that, whatever the gawking crowd might think, he knew that Jesus was not only innocent, but valid where it mattered.''4 Jesus' sense of total rejection by men is compounded and intensified by his feeling abandoned by the Father,.by his experience of estrangement and alienation that be-longs to our sinfulness. The psalm that Jesus is citing is a psalm of uncon-ditional trust in God's love and ultimate vindication. The last words of Jesus are a radical expresSion of his loneliness, and a "radical expression of a devotion to God which endures in every adverse experience--a devotion which continues to claim God as 'my' God and will not let him go although he can be experienced only as the absent One who has'forsaken the peti-tioner.''~ It is this surrender in love and trust that is our window into the mystery of his personality, for it is the human expression of what.we have come to call divine sonship; it is this surrender in the brokenness of death which, like the buried grain, is the source of our life.6 It is, I believe, true that Mark's way of presenting the passion of Jesus can allow it to "speak to us again with new power," speak to us with hope and with challenge in the center of our experience. All of us know at first hand the meaning of loneliness. I still vividly remember my feelings of desolate helplessness on the occasion of my first day at school as mother walked out of the playground beyond the iron fence. Or years later, when, having spent three years in enclosed quasi-monastic surroundings, I went to sit my finals in London, sporting a large 4L. E. Keck, A Future for the Historical Jesus (London, SCM, 1972), p. 229. ~E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark (London, SPCK, 1971), p. 353. ncf. my article "Trust--the Life-Attitude of Jesus" in Doctrine and Life, Nov. "76, pp. 803 ft. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Roman collar at twenty-one; everything and everyone seemed to be telling me that I did not belong~°I recall also the numbing sense'of lostness that came over me as' the train hissed noisily to a halt in Wigan station the evening 'my father died. Loneliness has many forms: the jarring sadness of bereavement, the corrosive listlessness of loss and separation, the anguished alienation and shame.of guilt and sin, thedisappointment of failure, the isolation of intense physigal suffering or imprisonment; the d(structive discouragement and paralysis of non-acceptance and rejection, the pain of misunderstanding and estrangement, the gnawing emptiness of unfulfilled longing for intimacy and genuine cbmpanionship, the absence of~God. Loneliness is thic.kly woven into the fabric of our lives, it.is a facet of our human poverty, our poverty of being. But Mark assures us that it is an aspect of being human that Jesus-fully shared throughout his ministry and especially in hi~ final hours. Most of us are anxious to avoid pain, physical pain; our medical and pharmaceutical experts have mercifully developed many varieties of anal-gesic. Most of us, likewise, sedulously attempt to avoid the pain of loneli-ness; and our society has developed a wide range of would-be anaesthetics--from discos to little dog~--to soften the abrasive harshness of our experience. I, for one, am very grateful for the refuge and comfort afforded by the telephone! And yet I wonder whether Mark is challenging us as disciples of Jesus to Cope with our loneliness m. ore creatively. Whilst recognizing with thanks the extent to which he made the experience of loneliness his own, perhaps we are reluctant to recognize that he did what most of us, most of the time, seek to .shun. In spite of gripping fear and instinctive repugnance, he did not run away from it; and his steadfastness transformed it into a life-giving element of redemption. Perhaps it is here that Mark is speaking to us again with new power; perhaps the challenge for disciples of Jesus consists in transforming the pain of loneliness into a source of personal growth and of life for others. It is very important that instead of taking one of the numerous escape roads open to us, we learn to come to terms with our loneliness and listen to our own feelings and struggles, our aspirations and questions, and live themacceptingly. It is here in the unique my.stery'of our personal selfhood, in the depths of our being, that we must have the courage to allow God to find us. It is here that his call is to be heard: "Do not be afraid, for I am with you . " So often God seems absent for the simple reason that we are fearfully evading his loving presence. Loneliness is paradoxically a poten-tial source of enrichment, for it can teach us the meaning of poverty of spirit, which opens us to the gift of God's kingly rule through the Spirit poured into our hearts, that surrender in loving and trusting obedience which is the hallmark of the Master.7 rI'his is developed by Henri J. M. Nouwen, Reaching Out (London, Collins, 1976), pp. 25-101. 90 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 In learning to come to terms with our loneliness, we may learn like Jesus, to love more genuinely, more compassionately. Our going out to others will be legs oriented to answering our own needs for companionship and fulfillment, and will become an expression of authentic service which can liberate and heal and enliven. At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked Peter and the other eleven: ~' And you, who do you say I am?" He reiterates this question to each Christian daily. Peter was able to acknowledge J~esus as Messiah, but his response was inadequate, it did not involve a willingness to follow in his way; he jibbed at the implications of discipleship. Loneliness, failure, misunderstanding, rejection are always painful, very painful, and are a constant in our human experience; a constant, however, shot through with hope because of the paschal mystery of Christ. Our answer as disciples to the challenging ques-tion of Jesus must be expressed in our willingness to take up this cross and go "with him." A Lamb Looks Through the Fence (Where the grass appears to be greener) The grass is greener on the other side: At least, it seems that way. Shepherd, give me a heart content To praise, to server to stay. This is the pasture of Your choice, And lessons here await: Calm the longings of my heart And bid the storms abate. For fences also keep us safe, Hedged in with loving care, Provided for and protected from The lion and the bear. Teach me to trust--this humble prayer Removes the restless yen: Some day we'll see from a higher view How green our side has been. Vi~la Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities Leonard J. Crowley Leonard J. Crowley, Titular Bishop of Mons in Numedia, is Auxiliary Bishop of Montreal. He is Director Of the Office for English Language Affairs in the archdiocese; 2000 Sherbrooke St. West; Montreal, Que. H3H IG4; Canada. n the very fitting context of the Feast of Pentecost last year, two Roman Congregations (The Congregation for Bishops and the Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes) promulgated a very significant docu-ment on Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Reli-gious in the Church. The statement is significant, for its very existence admits that there is room for growth in understanding between the episcopal office and religious communities. For far too long within the Church's often turbulent history there has been too little fruitful communication between the overseers of the faith and those specialists who have a particular and time-honored gift to share with the faithful. Th~ warning of John Cassian to his monks in the fourth century seems, even today, to express a deep-seated mistrust: "The two groups you must avoid at all times are women and the bishops." The Diocesan/Religious Rivalry This basic antipathy often shows itself as well in the ranks of those from whom the residential bishop is normally chosen in North America--the diocesan clergy. What some may naively call a healthy rivalry between religious and diocesan groups is often~ at root, a basic distrust of one another's real motives and abilities in the exercise of the apostolate. 21 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 This recent document addresses itself directly to this sorry condition where it exhorts that "efforts should be made to renew the bonds of fratero nity and cooperation between the diocesan clergy and communities of religious." It even suggests the context of "simple and informal" gather-ings "which serve to increase mutual trust, apostolic solidarity, and fra-ternal harmony" (37). The duty for seeing to it that such fraternal gattierings take place and grow in significance and depth is placed squarely, as it should be, on the shoulders of the bishop. Furthermore, it is the duty of the bishop to so blend the services of diocesan and religious groups that each recognize members of outstanding talent and together support their promotion to positions of service commensurate with their capabilities; for "the bishop should . . . exhort the diocesan priests to recognize gratefully the fruitful contribution made by religious to their Church and to approve willingly their nomination to positions of greater responsibility which are consbnant with their vocation and competency" (55). In basic fact, if we truly are to witness to the mystery of the Lord Jesus in our midst, then there should be no rivalry but only harmony in the service we render. The bishop and his diocesan assistants should rejoice in the presence of specialists who bring a particular talent to minister ina certain area to the People of God. In such a context, "bishops, along with their clergy, should be convinced advo-cates of the consecrated life, defenders of religious communities, promoters of vocations, firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in ihe apostolic field" (28). As a matter of fact, it is the bishop's "specific office to defend consecrated life, to foster and animate the fidelity and authenticity of religious and .~o, help them become part of the communion and of the evangelizing action of his church, acc.ording to their distinctive nature" (52). ~ Difficulties of Identification But herein lies the crux of the problem. Many a bishop would be hard pressed to identify the "distinctive nature" of the religious groups en-trusted to his watchful overseeing. In many instances there seems to have ¯ been a loss of clear identity on the part of religious communities. The bishop i~ fully aware, in most instances, that "the very nature of apostolic action requires that [he] give precedence to interior recollection and to the life of prayer;" but he is also frustrated by the realization that some religious apparently have not taken to heart the realization that they must, "in conformity with their distinctive nature, renew themselves in depth and be assiduous in prayer" (23a). What a bishop must be seeking from religious who reside in or enter his diocese is a specific dedication and consecration to a form of spirituality and to an apostolic witness that is as clear and as vital as it was when the Ruleo that embodies that life was first written. The bishop must be concerned with the future of his flock; but he wants that future founded solidly in the values that have come out of the past. Therefore he must be in search of"religious Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities [who], even while showing a particular spirit of enterprise and foresight for the future, [are] intensely loyal to the intention and spirit of their insti-tute." (34). However, the simple fact appears to be that many religious groups have maintained a loyalty to their institute but have lost sight of both its intention and its spirit. The Second, Vatican Council has urged. The Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life to begin with a sincere return to the spirit and the mind of the Founder and from that unique font to build anew a personal and communal zeal for the spread of the Gospel, in all its richness. It is obvious that many, if not all, religious communities have adapted themselves, their customs, their habits, to the contemporary condition--not without a great deal of soul-searching, painful compromise, and interminable meetings. But adaptation was the easier half of the challenge and directive laid down by Perfectae Caritatis. How many communities have gone on to embrace a radical renewal of their original spirit? For it is in the light of that question that one can honestly ask about the future relevance of religious life. Ignorance of Specific Spirit In many instances, individual religious find it all but impossible to dis-tinguish the uniqueness of their charism from that of other religious commu-nities. Beyond a loyal chauvinism for their own institute, many admit that their vision, their mission, their methodology is essentially the same as evi~ryone else's. The historical reasons that called: the original foundation into existence often are gone now, the needs alleviated, the witness fulfi!led, the expectations satisfied. The more specific the historical reason for the foundation, the more difficult becomes the task of pinpointing its relevance now in the latter part of the twentieth century. This quandary has caused much frustration on the part of dedicated and deeply concerned men and women who recognize the values of their traditions, see a need for apostolic zeal within the mission of the Church, but find it difficult to wed the two into an effective and realistic union within the contemporary con-text. What has happened in the minds of many young religious is to say, "Forget the past. Deal with the present and prepare for the future." But such an outlook definitely isolates one frbmthe ~rich traditions that give reason for the continuing existence of the particular institute. It truly ap-pears that too many religious today are ignorant of the spirit that enkindled the foundation of their community. They may know its historical back-ground; but they have done little to identify with .the charismatic zeal that gives them a uniqueness and an individuality so necessary in building up the full experience that is Church. For there appears today to be little difference between one religious community and another except in terms of an accident of history or geography. Beyond the clear distinctions offered by the stric~tly contemplative and monastic communities, religious orders and societies seem to have Ihid aside those distinctions that called them into 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 existence. Many individuals apparently responded to a vocational urging as personified in a particular individual: a teacher, a pastor, a chaplain, a family friend. The specific community to which that individual belonged meant little, except that it was the obvious context within which the indi-vidual was to pursue his vocation if he intended to follow the lead of his childhood hero. Thus many young men have gone in pursuit of the priest-hood, not as a diocesan priest or as a member of a religious community, but as a priest like Father Racine, or Father Joe, or Father O'Brien. Many young ladies simply continued their religious quest in the same context as the academy or the convent school to which they were sent by parents desirous of the best education possible for their offspring and knowing that the "good sisters" would provide just that. Symbol of Identity Of course, as the individual comes to identify with the community to which he has gone, to learn of its traditions and history during his years of postulancy and novitiate, he doubtless grows in love for and identification with the order or the congregation. That identity used to be symbolized .very powerfully in the reception of the religious habit. More than anything else, the habit had been the external symbol of an internal commitment. For many communities of religious women, the bishop was called upon to participate in this very important step in identification with the spirit of the Founder and the vision of the order. But, for many communities today, the habit stands as a symbol of the past. And the search for a clear, contempo-rary sign of identification whereby new members might feel a sense of oneness with the community has been a very frustrating one. Yet, in the beginning, it was not the habit that gave identity; it was the spirit and zeal of the Founder, as these drives inspired the community, giving a clear sense of purpose and single-mindedness to all who embraced the Holy Rule. It is that spirit which must be renewed in religious communities today if the symbols of religious life are to have any role to fulfill within the Church. The Problem of Stability Because many religious communities have been established for the ministry of the Universal Church and not for the local church alone, many within a diocese, often the bishop himself, tend to resent the fluidity of a religious community's commitment to a particular apostolic endeavor. For such persons, whose commitment to the local church is total, there is a very deep-seated hesitancy to entrust the fulfillment of a ministry to a group whose commitment often seems to be as long as its superior's vision is far-reaching. Such an anxiety seems natural and even fortified by the gospel parable about the hireling and the good shepherd. However, what many, whose commitment to the local church is so intense, fail to recognize or to acknowledge is that the purpose of religious exemption is "so that institutes Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities carl express their identity more adequately and devote themselves~to ,the common good with special generosity and on a wider scale" (22). If all who work together within the diocesan community have a proper appreciation of the exempt status as "a certain expression of that pastoral concern which unites them intimately with the Roman Pontiff for the universal care of all people," such an awareness "will promote greatly increased apostolic' ini-tiative and missionary zeal in every particular church" (22). ' Of course, every religious community that comes to ~erve the local church, even if it does beloia~ to an institute of pontifical right, "should feel themselves truly a part of the diocesan family" (18b). Therefore their com-mitment should be as deep find their solicitude as pervasive as every other apostolic witness within thediocese. However, in those situations where an institution finds itself "unable to carry on a given undertaking, its superiors should, in good time andwith~confidence; make known the factors hinder-ing its continuance at least in its actual form, especially if this lack is due to personnel. For~his part, ti~e local ordinary should consider sympatheti-cally the re~luest to withdraw from the undertaking and in common accord with the superiors seek a suitable solu'tion" (47). in other words, every local Church must always see itself as a vital organ of the universal People of God under the guidance of the Holy F~ther. None of us can afford to allow our apostolic vision to become so myopic as to blind us to the needs beyond our own backyard. Bishops~ especially, must realize that the zealous service of religious in his pastoral domain is always carried on'with a sense-of ministry to the Universal Church. Such a presence, then, is a blessing as it broadens the horizons of our apostolic perspective and helps us to appreciate more deeply the total concern of the Father for all his children. Thus as religious come and go within a diocese, neither the ordinary nor his diocesan assistants should resent their fluidity but shoiald see, in their willingriess to move as the Spirit calls them, a vivid reminder that we all are a pilgrim people on the move to the home that we can ohly begin to build toward in this world. The Church is larger and more loving than any of us. We must always st.rive to be of humble service to her needs and to free those who feel the ardent call to another vineyard, to another manifestation of the Spirit's solicitude in the midst of the people of God. Future Expectations Religious ~ommunities are ~:alled today to "devote themselves with full awareness and zeal to the task 0f incarnating and manife.sting in the diocese the specific witness and the genuine mission of their institute" (22). This is the value and the service that the bishops, are going to be searching for in the future, all the more so ,as they realize quite clearly that they "are entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms . [For] in this way;" by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own Review for Religious, Volume 38,~!~979/1 definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real. pastoral duty" (9c). Thus the bi~hopJs going to be in search of and solicitous for those communities that. are responding in the modem day to the needs of the Church after the spirit and .with the zeal of their founders. Quite obviously, then, "religious supe-i- iors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure'the fidelity of the members to the charism of the Founder, by fostering :the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the.times" (14c). The future of religious life will lie in the oab!ljty that each religious community has to move away from the mentali~ty of being an embattled camp; of~asse~ting, by quality of performanceoand depth of, solicitude, the recognition that "every institute exists.for the Church and must enrich her with its.~distinctive characteristics, according~to a particular spirit,and a specific mission" (14b). Eacho!n,stitute-is a shepherd, not a hireling-~.,~but only, ifoit speaks with the voice of its Founder who echoes the voice of the Good Shepherd. "The very charism of the founders appears a_s "an experi-ence of the Spirit' transmitted to their ,disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them, in harm~gny with the Body of Christ, continually in the process oLgrowth" (11). o. The future of the religious life de, pends, then, on a renewal that will be as much new as it will be re-. Besides a deep appreciation of the~historical origin and vision of one's community, each one,must se, ek innovative and creative ways w~ith which to bringthe wisdom an~t°~technology of contempo-rary society to bear upon the timeless values articulated, by the Lord Jesus and specifi.cally~ pursued within a particular religious context. The more clearly and more wholesomely we can make those value~"'li.~,e in our own day, the more relevant and essential becohaes the role we intend to.fulfillS' That is one reason why the renewal of the religio~us life remains ~such a crucial issue. However, that renewal is feasible only if each in~stitiate ,and every member is clearly aware that"it is necessary to preserve the identity of each institute so securely, that the danger of an ill-defined situation be avoide.d, le§t0religi,ous, failing to give .due consideration to the .particular mode of action proper to their character, become part of the ]if~"of the Ch.urch.in~a vague and ambiguous way" (11). ~_ Personal Reflection' As a bishop, I have been renewed by this document from the two ¯ Congregations, with a sense of the very serious responsibility that I have for the religious communities who minister to the people .I w.atgh o.ver.~I have always hoped that the religious who come into our midst would bring their special gifts and talents to' bea~- however or wherever thei.r apostolic pre~s-ence took them. Now I realize more clearlyothat, together wit.h my brother bishops, !' have a duty to help.directly and distinctly the religious commu~ nities in our midst to remain true to their founders' ideals and to fulfill ~their, specific mission in th.e w_ay that they alone °can do. In other words, 9s bishop, it is my duty to see to it that the apostolic commitment of each ~ ~ ~ ., ~ Refie~ctions.-bf a Bishop on Religigus Communities / 27 community is in keeping with and true to the spirit of their Rule. I must be available to help each religious entrusted to my pastoral care--and that includes every one in the diocese where I ministeruto be true to the specific charism of his or her community. It is my deep hope and confident prayer that religious, for their part, will serve each diocese in which they labor, not as general practitioners of gospel values (nor will: they accept ministries which would expect such an approach), but rather will share the fruits of their own foundations with the whole people of God in the particular and unique way that they are able. Admittedly such an approach demands a restructuring on the part of young and old alike. But that revamping is essential to the future flowering of the religious life and the future fulfillment of the Church. Unity Through Diversity In conclusion, the renewal of every religious community is eventually going to bring each congregation to the realization that we are all struggling toward the day when Jesus will be "'all in all," where there will be no distinct communities because the vision of every founder will finally be focused together in~ the one reality of the Lord Jesus. And there will be'no more religious communities because there will be only one religious Com-munity in the City of Goti; there will be, in the-~0rds of St.'Aug~astine, "one Christ loving himself." Yet, as we move toward that day of fulfillment, we musl move in the paradoxical fashion of human naturemfor~we move toward unity through .diversity. It is that great diversity of religious ingight and,~xp~erience which must be shared.with the Christian Community'in order that its unity might be achieved mor~ effectively and all-inclusively. In order to accomplish that objective; y,oung religious must take gr~at pride in the"tradition to which they ~ commit themselves, a pride that will make them zealous sharers, with all'God's people, of:the girls entrusted by the Spirit to their care. For ,those girls shall be, preserved only if they are generously commu-nicated to and'for the Church. And religious must learn to see in the bishop ,a source of support and solicitude, no longer the "'enemy,''-~but a loving brother, deeply concerned for their well-being and their growth. For the bishop clearly should understand that the future of religiousfife is the future life of the Church. - ~0 As the~Spirit shared the great diversity of his charisms on. that first Pentecost, magi the message that Mother Church has given to her ministers on this past Pentecost Sunday fill all of us ~4ith deep respect and concern for the building up of the girls entrusted to each of us for the life of the Church. Th, en.the grace of the Ho!y ,Spirit will fio~d fulfillment in us all as we bec~me truly one in Christ to the glory of God "the Father. From.""Ministry'' tO"Church Work" The.Fate of Tired Souls Paul Marceau, C.S.C.' " Father Marceau is a doctoral candidate in spirituality at the Graduate Theological Union, .Berkeley, CA. Presently he is on the staff of Moreau Seminary; Notre Dame, IN 46556. n the aftermath of the recen~ papal election a news commentator referred to one of Pope John Paul's distant predecessors who, after assuming the office, said that he spent so much time tending to the needs of others that he was in danger of becoming a stranger to himself. The problem of the threat of'being consumed by the demands of ministry is not a new one. Jesus himself seemed to recognize this danger and from time to,time would draw the disciples aside to rest (Mt 14:13f.). In this articl6 I~will sketch what 1 believe ~to be a particular form which that problem' takes 'in apostolic religious life today: the phenomenon of the over-burdened, under-cared-for religious who is being consumed by apostolic and community work and who, in the process, may be dying a slow and painful death as a human being, a minister, and a religious. As the life of such a person gets frag-mented by the constant demands of apostolic ministry there is a danger of losing one's personal center, and one's relationship with God becomes threatened in the process. Whenthat happens in the life of any minister in the Church I would suggest'that the apostolic activity of such an individual ceases to be "ministry" °and becomes only "church work." Most reiigious in apostolic communities have found (and continue to find) the early years of ministry an intoxicating experience. The apostolic life which they enter after their years in formation is challenging and de-manding. There seems to be so much to be done, so many needs to be 28 From ,"Ministry" to '~Church Work" attended. Within a short time the religious begins to feel needed and ap-preciated in ways that were unknown and perhaps impossible in the years of formation? There. develops a greater sense of self-worth as the person begins to do what he or she could only reflect upon or do only in a controlled and well-regulated way in the years of formation. There is a sense that one is finally fully immersed in ministry and with that comes the sense that one isat last doing something with his or her life, and not simply preparing to do so. A.new dimension of the personality develops and becomes more cen-tral: that of the hainister and apostle. The focus shifts from what ~was, in the years of fOrmation, substantially pr.eparatory, receptive, and to a large degre,e inner-directed and reflective to the active, the outward, the full immersion in ministry. The apostplate in these early years after formation makes heavy de-mands on self and time but most individuals are excited by this and would not want it to be otherwise. With the constant need and cpnstant demand of the apo.stolate, however, there come problems with the m.anagement of one's time and, ,indeed, of one's life. There is less and less time (and perhaps even desire) for leisure, for one's own concerns, for reflection upon one's life. Given the choice between the needs of others and one's "free time"0 (and there doe~ not alw.ays seem to be a choice), the religious often sacrific~es w.tlat .is the e~siest to sacrifice: personal time and space. Prior to the Changes in religious iife'which took place following Vatican I1, time for prayer and reflection was protected, at least in theory,2 by being built into~ the schedule. Such tim(for private ~'ea.ding, prayer, and refl+ction, how-ever, isnow no longer "given"; it has to be found and it seems ~ncreasingly difficult.to find it. Personal prayer and reflection gradually have come to be nudged out of the lives of many by the hectic ~nd busy pace of their apostolic.life. Indeed, there was a time in the past decade when such times aside f(om'ministry were rl.o.t only considered luxuries but were Iobked upon as 'selfish luxuries, as time stolen from the service of others in need. Perso'n~l prayer beco~n"e~, problematic, even for those with the best of intentions. Few, if any.~,fiaiike a conscious decision to give UP personal prayer; it gimply gets~ pushed out by the "more important" and more immediate concerns of Io~,e and service to others. It is a gradual process by which people's lives simply become so overwhelmed by the 9postolic and. qn the past. of course, apostolic involvement during the years of formation w~s minimal. Young religious were protected from such "outside" distractions. As a result, for people trained in such a context, immersion into full-time ministry,provided a shocking change from . their years of formation, The change is less abrupt today since significant apostolic involve-ment is seen as a critical part of formation. Nevertheless, the "full-time" ministry has a dynamic of its own which can really be experienced only in the doing of it, no matter how well one is prepared for it. zWhile time for meditation, spiritual ~'eading, examination of conscience, and so forth, may have been provided in previous schedules, there is certainly enough evidence to wonder to what extent such schedules were ac~tually honored--other than by those in formation. 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 community demands that there is simply no time "left over" for oneself., Finding time for' personal prayer becomes a terrible.struggle, the wagingof, ahopeless, losing war. For some, the loss of,,that dimension of their re-ligious life is easily justified by their appeal .to the demands of ministry; for others Such loss is--the Source of much shame and guilt.~ Foi" many, prayer has bedome a time squeezed into'fi hectic and already' cluttered day. It is ~so~ething to be fitted in between Walter Crorikite ahd'~ an evenin~g meeting, or between a dis~tressing hous~ meeting arid the celebration of the Eticharist.:These patterns of prayer-time tend to reflect their livegt prayer time itselfis'9 hectic and bdsy,°'often cluttered, time. Even when the time is fotindfor it, prayer is'filled with the concerns of 0ne's~ day. It is a time full of distractions, a very busy and unfocused time, filled~ with the hundreds of stimuli that the individual brings off ~he street with him: The time which one struggles to have alone'with God becomes a time to do a lot Of religious "business," a trine for pra~,ing for the concerns ministry, .for commending to ~he Lord all the. wounded who ha~d tbuched one's life that day. The time "aside" is really no time aside at'fill but simply a 'diffei-erit'fOi'um for doing what"one had been doing all'day long. " " For"others, the dynamic of personal prayer shiftg from "time aside" to prayer-on-the-i'un, a kind of "are you running ~vith me~, 'Jesus" format. There is sirrligly no 'time to tend to the'personal reli~gidoiums e"n °s i~o'n~ "o:f ~ o' n~e* :s~ ' life, and God is put on "hofoldr "~ n'"creas"~ °ngly lon"g ~er. "p~e ,r i.~ods of time. Not infrequently i'eligious m~ke little bargains with God, prom'ising to return to him at a latCr date when there is more time available: "I'm g?ing tO be very busy this s~'ineste~ and I reall3i won't have mucl~time for prayer ' but I'll get back t'~3ibu at Chris~tmasvacation or during the~summer when things let up a liitle." But Chrqst~n°~s o~:summer vacation corhes along, and when there ts finally t~me for prayer, such individuals find that they can no longer pray as they once d~d because they have fallen out of the habit of personal prayer. The closeness and the ~nt~macy ~s no longer there; God seems to be further away. The more personal, direct and intimat~'relationship~vith God that one might have known in quieter and mor~ peaceful ti~e~ is gone. There is a dis-ea'se about one's relationship to God, and the times alone with him are f0un'd~{o be somewhat strained and uncomfortable. The struggle to fi'nd some t~me aside does not, aftei- all, seem to' be quite worth it because thOre does not seem to be much pbint to it. " ~ Iwshort, given the difficulty of finding times for prayer,~ and the busy and hectic pace we experience,e.ven when they fire found, prayer time becomes~ more and more minimalT"and what there is becomes increasingly lesg satisfying. As a.result,, m~ore and more weight for the spiritual life comes to be put on community, or on "apostolic prayer." Liturgy and'common prayer become the focus and substance of the prayer life .of many to the exclusion of~all other forms. But with that, .there is often felt an, uncom-fortable dissonance between what one says in his~ministry and'what one' From "Ministry" ,to "Church Work" d0es.-,Thus~, although he may preach eloquently; celebrate reverently, discuss the gospel enthusiastically and be complimented and affirmed by his parishioners, students, and fellow community members as being a good priest andreligious, the spiritual dimension of apostolic and community I.ife seems to have no echO;in his ownolife: He believes the message and is sincere when he tblls others about it, but at times it seems very far frorfi what he himselffis experiencing. Neverthe!ess, sharing sacraments,and common prayer~with others is at least a lifeline for many. When there is a dis-ease and a discomfort about being too alone with oneself and with°G0d, one can often find solace in participating in the more formal, more .struc-ttired ,forms of prayer, such as the sacraments and Office, since slach f/arms allow 'one to approach God without being too alone before him. Just as p~ople must build up habits of pr.aYer with time and practice, so it is that they fall out of the habits of personal prayer. Thps, ~hen a pe,rson's life become~ overwhelmed and fragmented by a busy and hectic apostolic ministry, personal prayer becomes difficult not only because of time con-siderations but because the doing of it becomes an uns~itigfying thing. For one who has fallen out of the practice .of personal prayer, moments o~f aloneness can become very frightening, and so instead of struggling tofind such times of alonene'gs and of the oppo~:tunity to foc~us within, the religio0,s may eventually fipd h~mself strugghng to avotd focusing w~th~n for fear of seeing too deeply, with to6"~uch clarity, ~hat may be happening to his fraghaehted life. When tli~it' h~ppens, the 'i~dividual spends an enor~mous amount of time and psychic energy fleeing such moments, protecting him: self from God. P~rsons sensing this dis-ease a, bout the'Jr relationship with God may read about God, talk al~out God, may do'the works of the Church and~ma~ even°hpproach G~d. in the company of othersobut they are often unable to bear facing God' in their aloneness, to be ~ilent before him. If such.is.the fate of n.ot a few apostolic religious in the past decade (and I believe it has b, een), then the task for them, again, becomes one of the struggle t9 av.oid, such moments. The apostolate, itself a contributory cause to this state of affairs, becomes a welcome and easily legitimized.distraction from facing oneself. Religious can throw themselves into their_work and give themselves over to be consumed by the apostqlic need which, as a matter of fact, is always ~,aiting there to be cared for. But this is not the zeal of those early y~ears of their ministry; it is, in fact, just the oppqsite. The work, what one does, is now.no longer ,a way of sharing what is inside, but a way of avoiding it. Instead of zeal andenthusiasm driving one from within to sha~e what.~e .has pers.onally experienced and discovered about'life and about God,,there is flightto the work for its own sake, a flight away from the i,nterior self. ~with diminishing personal energies and resources.tq ~driye and sustain himself, he becomes willingly carried along by the demands of the apostolat~e, .and~ lifebecomes one busy apostolic distraction. When ihat .happen,s, when,a person becomes emptied inside and can live .only on'the 32 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 outside, then he is:no longer engaged in the doing of ministry but.is simply busy about doing what I would call simply "church work." The irony of all this is that a person may be, and very frequently is at this same time in life, just h!tting his professional stride, doing the kinds of things that he always wanted to do in ministry,~with all the requisite pro-fessional training, and receiving very reassuring feedback from others about his ministry--and yet the.re seems to be something terribly missing, and he cannot understand why~ He may be doing very good work, pro-fessionally satisfying, assisting others in. living their lives and yet feel that he.is not doing a very good job of living his own. He might say to himself: "I should be happy but I am not. What is the matter with me?" As one person expressed it to me: "I am good and successful at what I am doing. ! enjPy it and find satisfaction in it--but why do I feel like I am dying?" The constant concerns and needs of others (and the constaht need to be focusing outside oneself), the very things .which used to energize and sus-tain the person in the early years of ministry, now only drain energies and makes the indiviidpal feel th~it his whole life', by choice"or by abdication, is being consumed by the apostolate. The apostolate has become for him a thousand-tentacled monster, constantly making demands, never letting up, constantly draining him of diminished or even exhausted personal energies. For the weary church worker the apostolate becomes a.two-edged sword: it is a welcome distraction protectin.g him from looking too closely within and, at the same time, a drain upon his personal energies even to the point of exhaustion. There is a variation to the above theme ~f the one who allows his life to become c~onsumed by the apostolate~ in order to avoid what may be dying inside, and this variation is marked by the opposite of involvement: with-drawal. For this person the apostolate becomes an eight-hour-a-day (or less)job and he is quite capable of walking away from it in order, as he sees it, to preserve his own necessary personal time and space; Having created sixteen hours of personal time and space of the twenty-four, however, the task he faces then becomes One Of filling up his space and time so that he will dot be left alone with it. In order to defend himself from se6ing the void within, the individual will do anything to fill up that time, to be distracted. He will read novels and magazines for hours (this may be his'version of "'being alone"). He may spend evening after evening watching television without really knowing or caring what is on the screen. He may arrange a heavy social schedule.'He will do anything rather than face the emptiness and discomfort that is within him. The weary church worker's life has become overwhelmed and frag-mented by the consuming demands of today's apostolate. He may be a victim of the work but. in the end; he knows that b,~ ,.'s a willing victim. He m'ay even see himself in the role of a martyr, giving his all that the world rr]ay be saved (or at least a little'more saved). But underneath the hectic and clu~ttered life of today's church worker, there is the danger of building up F¢om "Ministry" to "Church Work" /,33 increasing levels of resentment against those whom he serves. The de-mands never let up and nobody will leave hi~n alone. He may be tired. There may be a lot of suppressed anger and resentment. But worse than either of these, as long as he seems-to be good and successful in his work, is the fact that nobody seems to care about what is dying inside him and how he feels about himself and his ministry. The problem, in fact, is that no one can see what is dying inside him. All the outward signs appear to be good. The iridividual is busy, involved, committed to the apostolate, and actually doing good work there. He is sociable and affable in community, relating well there. No one can see what is happening inside him because no one is allowed to see it. The individual may have a difficult time even bringing himself tO see it and there may be too much shame and guilt to allow anyone else to see it. All the while the person may be saying: "they (superiors, fellow religious, fellow ministers) are themselves too busy ministering to others and I cannot burden them with my problems; I know what I~feel like when one more problem comes my way and I don't want to be just one more problem for' them." There is a final, cruel irony in the situation of the apostolic religious who, by the process described above, has been turned into a busy church WorkeL There is a rehewed interest and concern for spirituality and praye~ in the Church today--and that is w~lcomed. Religious are once more con-cerned about their relationship with God. But, as often a~ not, that concern is a source of guilt rather'than a source of strength. Concern for spirituality and prayer--whether the concern is assumed or imposed~--isjust one more ~lemhnd placed upon the life oLthe already tired religious. Instead of one's i'elationship with God being the source of personal energy and an impetus to ministry, it can become just one more thing to worry about along with.all the others~ one more thing with which the religious has neither the timenor the energy to contend. Instead of being the place of rest where he no longer has to be doing and Working, his prayer becomeg just one more thing to do and to work at. Instead of his relationship with God being the source and center of life, it is thrown in with all the other things which clamor for attention in a life which has lost its center. Apostolic religious communities in America today are running the risk of producing amongtheir members merely weary church workers suffering from battle fatigue. In the long run, however, there will be a price to pay in human suffering and tragedy, as suppressed anger and resentment can be suppressed no longer and begin to surface, Often in indirect but destructive ways. Religious will retire too Soon from the battle, burnt out men and women who will no longer be driven or taken advantage of. They will unclutter their lives of hectic apostolic activity and then turn and fill them up with other more relaxing distractions; but whether busy with apostolate or busy with relaxing distractions, many will be leading lives of quiet desperation because their lives no longer have any focus or center to hold them together. Review for Religious, Volunie°38, 1979/1 There are alternatives, I think, to the way we live apostolic religious life and the way we do ministrytoday. Just ~as~we do no good for a.materialistic society if we ourselves get caught up in its materialistic ethos, likewise we do little good for a society that runs at an insane pace, fragmenting the lives of its people when we ourselves run at; that.~same pace, becoming quite as fragmented in our own lives. A different style and pace of apostolic religious life need not mean that apostolic ministry be less involx;ed, less concerned, or less whole-hearted than it is now. .~ . ~.," Finding the meaning of one's life in one's relationship to God and sustaining that relationship personally through reflection and prayermmany indeed "take time away from others" but it may also allow us to offer them something more than what had been our busy, overburdened lives. G~'ound-ing our personal lives outside of the work we do may both'free us from the apostolate and, at the same time. free us for it. We will be freed from the apostolate not in the sense that we will lose the apostOlic dimension of our life in favor of the comtemplative life but rather in'!the sense that the meaning of our lives, as individuals and as communities, would no longer be tied to this specific apostolate and this particular work. "We would be freed from the works of our own hands to pursue and minister to the needs of people wherever and whatever they may.be, On .the other hand, it may well be that we would be doing the same kinds of. things ,that we are ,doing now,. but the person doing them will be different: still busy, but less frantic, and bringing to those situations a life which is a little calmer, a little more rootedand peaceful. Our apostolic ministry might be less cluttered but, at the same time, more deeply involved; we might be less frenzied, but also more zealous about the things we do. Finding the focus and center of one's life in God and taking time to tend to that dimension of life will give impetus and focus to our ministry. It will take :nothing away from it but will, instead, make ministry all the more importantmand all the more possible. "Promises to Keep"' A Homily for Final Vows J.Peter Schineller, S.J. Father Schineller, ~ member of the faculty of the Jesuit School of Theology in Chicago (JSTC), shared with those who witnessed his final vows in the Society of Jesus the't~houghts and movements that were his then. He resides at 5554 s. Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60637. While'I was visiting "my brother and sister-in-law over the Christmas hblidays, as oftenhappens with a new toy, an argument arose betweeh their two children. The younger boy was unwilling to let his big sister play with his new eiectriC helicopter. The conversation went something like this: "It's my t6rn! You'have to let me play ffith~it."" "I don't want to and 1 don't have to." "You have to, and you know you have to." "I don't ~have to,' and I ~on't." "You have to, because you promised!" "Well, OK." My five year old nephew was trapped. He was caught by his promise, and he kne~ it. He knew in his child's wisdom that a prom~ise is something special, something sacred, and not just any old word. Promises make a difference.' "The child in me made promises more than 18 years ago, not about toys, but about how to spend my whole life*; promises not to ariother pers6n, but promises to God, tlie Father of all persons. And here I am this ~evening, to *The Jesuit's "first vows," taken at the end of the novitiate, include the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. (Editor)' 35 36 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 renew and to finalize those promises in my profession of "final vows," and to renew the promises with joy and enthusiasm. And so in these last few moments in which I am still a Jesuit scholastic, I would :like to share a few thoughts on 1) how I see these promises, 2) where the inspiration to make the promises comes from, and 3) how it is possible for anyone to make a profession of vows. First of all, what am I promising and vowing this evening? In one sense, it is nothing new, nothing beyond what I promised eighteen years ago, a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. It is not a new turn, a grandiose new option, but rather a public statement of my choice tO continue on the road begun. Yet in another sense, it is a new choosing, because with eyes far more open than 18 years ago, I am saying, "This is the path for me, and I promise to take this path as long as I live." The promises I make tonight are promises that I can only make tonight, and could not have haade five, ten--or eighteen years ago. Much has been written about the meaning of the vowed life. i donit intend'to present a new theory, but let me say briefly how.I see what I am promising. In the vow of obedience, I am saying that I will not try to build ~a career for myself. Rather my life is a responding life in the Society of Jesus, a response to the call of God as seen in the needs of others. In chastity I am foregoing the joys, pleasures and anxieties of building a home and family and thus establishing family roots. My basic community will be the Jesuits I live, work, and move with. In this way I hope to be available for loving service, wherever the good news of God's love is called for. In poverty I am saying that I will look upon my time, talents, education as always God's gift to me, not for myself, but to be shared in the service of others. Finally, I promise to do all of this as a member of the Society of Jesus. That is much easier to grasp and to explain. For it means living, growing, working, enjoying life, and dying with many of the persons you see here. And it is quite a group: young and old, tall and short, from all over the United States, and even from around the world. What do w,e have in common? All of us are engaged in the serious convers.~ition and ctiallenges of Christian life and ministry, in the~.tradition of Ignatius and the many .great Jesuits of the past and present. We are trying-in many different ways to let the good news of the love of God break into this world. ~ Secondly, where do I get the urge or inspiration to make these vows and promises? If it comes simply from my own imagination, then I could make and break these promises without further ado. But years ago, in quiet and diverse ways, the idea crept into my head to be a Jestlit and a priest. The idea came fr.om reading books, from conversation; from the example of my family, parish priests, and from Jesuits who taught me, And so I responded. "Promises to Keep," A,Homily for Final Vows But it was a long time ago that the journey began. Today where do I get the inspiration to make this profession of final 'vows? It seems to me that the process is quite similar. You, so many here, and so many who couldn't be here, in your own ways, have kept ~the vision and ideal of being a Jesuit priest before my eyes. YOU have been sending me signals, challenging, pushing, leading m.e, ~and so I respond. You have been sending me signals,' as I read them, that indicate that what I am about is good, and is from God. Signals have come from the parish at Harvey, Where I help on Sundays, to friends and teachers at the University of Chicago; from Jesuits in New York to students I teach and learn with here at the Jesu.itSchool of Theology; from fellow faculty members, friends of Hyde Park, to those I live with at Jesuit House. And I have to rely on :these signals, signals which have given me hope, courage, and confidence .,that 1 am on the right path. There is one conviction that has grown over the years, that while the vows are finally from God and made to God, it is according to his plan and purpose that the desire and courage to take and renew the promises of vows always comes mediated through.human lives. I sensed today a new insight into, or application of the parable of the last judgment in Matthew 25. If I might dare paraphrase it, I would say, "what I prpmise or vow to you, the least ofGod's brothers and sisters, I am vowing to God himself." But thirdly, how it is ppssible to make and live such promises? Many would say that this way of life is inhuman, psychologically unhealthy, or even un-Christian. How can i be sure that this is truly the will of God for me? How can I avoid the danger of the vows, the danger of being un-loving, irresponsible, the danger of pride in thinking that I have chosen a "better w~y" than n0n-vowed life? How can I'choose or control the future, and say where I wish to be ten or thirty years from now? Am I not fighting against Christian freedom, the freedom of the Spirit? Finally, and most trouble-some, how can I promise to God what he alone can give true obedience, holy poverty, and perfect chastity? These virtues are his gifts, and so how dare I promise or vow them'before God? The answer to these difficulties and°dangers must be an answer in faith, hope, and loving trust. Let me explain: I used to think I could figure it out--and had figured it out. I had what I thought was an adequate view of God, a solid enough view.of myself and the meaning and possibiliti~es of human life. I thought that on the basis of this perspective I could pronounce and keep my vows. They made a lot of sense. Now I see it is ndt so easy. For I see that vowed life, in common with all life, is, to use Karl Rahner's phrase, "a surrender to the mystery and incomprehensibility of God." I can't give a complete and adequate rational account or grounding for vowed life, for myself or anyone else. But on the basis of expei'ience and prayerful reflection, I dare to say that this life is not only.possible, but it is God's will and graced way for me. Living the vows as I have been about and encoun- 311 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/'1 tering the mystery of God in and through them is. their only final justification. Th.ey have been, are, and I say tonight, will continue to be my way to meet God, to be myself, and to respond to the needs .of God's people., Just as the Jesuit-.style of life has shaped my daily existence, so, in a.mysteriou.s way, the vowed life has shaped and formed my faith-filled idea of God himself. The God, revealed to me through the vows is a God I can and must stand before in trust. He is the one. who gives joy, peace, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose and mission far deeper tha~ any that I could create or grasp on my own. Moving to the center of the mystery of the possibility of the vows, I dare to say in and through these vows that God, the incomprehensible one, is not distant, far-off, uninvolved, but rather he is somehow present and working as the one who makes possible these promises in the first place. I find I am almost forced to say that he, in his Holy Spirit, is making the vbws and promises in and through me. And go only on this basis.do I dare to promise what God alone can give as gift. For I am convinced that it is a response to his impulse and urge that pushes me to make this commitment. I began these reflections with the story of a child:s pr~mise at Christ-mastime. Let me conclude with a poet's words on promises. In the midst ofa busy Week in a snow filled winter in Chicago, a pocida of Robert'Frost is perhaps most appropriate, "Stopping by Woods on a Siaowy Evening." It is good that we are here together, pausing; ~stopping not by woo~is, but in the city i~f Chicago in Augustana Lutheran Church.Tlie poet, stopping with his horse and carriage explains, "The woods are lovely, d~rk and deelS." And ~peaking formyself, Isay, yes,the woods I have journeyed through over ,the past eighteen years have been lovely, dark and deep. The woods a~re lovely--exciting, encouraging, adventuresome and challenging years, with beautiful moments of joy and peace, so lovely that~ I gla.dly, freely continue down this path. The woods are dark--filled with the .unexpected, from a pre-Vatican II Church onward towards Vatican III, with the graced paradox of a Jesuit pronouncing his final vows in a Lutheran church. Final-ly, the woods are deep if nottiing else the years of th~ journey have been deep, far too deep for me to understand and explain all that led me here tonight,, and all that is involved in this celebration, far tro deep for me to adequa.tely thank all who have supported and e, ncouraged me. Yes, the woods have been deep--filled with the mysterious presence of God in one humari life. The,,woods I,have journeyed through have been lovely, dark and deep, and I am saying in effect tonight that I would not trade a~0ay this way of, life through the woods for any other way. I say this joyfully, and as strongly as I can. But we can't stop here and pause here too long in-snow filled Chicago. For as the poet reminds us,'and as his poem concludes: "Promises to Keep," A Homily for Final Vows / 39 The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. May God who is Father, Son and Spirit continue to strengthen and guide each one of us on our journeys in the miles ahead. 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 "CelibateGerhtality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Celibacy and Contemplatio~n,'~ D. Dennehy, S.J . 30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . 3.0. "Consciousness Exhmen," G: A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. . ~.50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Asch~ffbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation;' S.C. for Rel!gious . ~ . .~. . 35 "Prayer-of Personal Reminiscence," D. J,' Hassel, S.J .6.0. '~Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of .Disdernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J. ' . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in CelibateDevelopment," P. Cristatitiello . . . ~ . 60 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O,P. .~.3.0 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .7.5. "The Contemporary Spirituality of ihe Monastic Lectio," M, Neuman, O.S.B: . ~. . 50 "The Four Momeiats of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J .5.0. "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith,oS.J . :.° . .35 Orders for the' above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St~ Louis, MO 63108 Destructive Passivity Spiritual Direction in Judith Roemer Sister Judith is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. ecently, I have become aware of the work of Aar.on a.nd Jacqui Schiff on psychological aspects of passivity (T. A. Journal, 1:1, January, 1971). As I read some of their findings, I began to see applications to the situation of spiritual direction. I began to realize how important it is for directors to be more alert in detecting patterns of destructive passivity in their directees. I came to recognize how important it is not to foster such patterns. It.seems to me, then, that noting and examining the categories of these psychologists regarding negative passivity can be highly productive in improving the process of spiritual direction. ~ "Passivity" has long been esteemed in the spiritual life. For that reason, it seems necessary to distinguish clearly from the start precisely what is the subject of this paper. There definitely is a time for activity, and a time for passivity. What seems essential is that passivity, as a way of responding, be carefully chosen. When, after looking at a situation and being in touch with my faith, my intelligence, and my affectivity, I decide to do nothing, I have made good use of passivity. This paper is not about those freely-chosen, well-thought-'out, peacefully and joyfully chosen situations. On the con-trary, this paper is concerned .with a form of passivity which inhibits adult responsibility and substitutes an unproductive way of acting for a decision. Previously I had thought of passivity in terms of "'dging nothing," However, the unproductive types of passivity wear many masks. Along 40 Destructive Passivity in Spirit.ual Direction / lll with "doing. nothing," passivity can take the form of "over-adaptation," "agitation," "incapacitation," and "violence." Each form in turn has many other forms as the category is expanded. In writing about the situation of spiritual~direction, my assumption is that, for the most part, I am dealing with normal, productive adults. Hen~e~ without pushing Schiffs' original categories of abnormal behavior beyond their intent, I suggest that the destructive areas of passive behavior noted by them do have potential tendencies that are also to be~found ~n the situation of directing healthy adults. Both director and directee carl profit by being aware of them. Secondly, I want to show that the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius contain some useful tactics for cou.nteracting destruc-. tive passivity. Using these tactics can be the occasion for providing quality decisions for the furtherance of the Kingdom. Doing Nothing In religious circles we often smile knowingly at the self-made martyr; we chide one another with the standard phrase, "Offer it up." We are indignant at the priest and levite who preceded the Good Samaritan and passed by the wounded stranger because it wasn't their business. We scoff at Cain as iii~ asks about being his brother's keeper. All of these are simply good exam-ples of the first category of destructive passivity, of doing nothing. Not quite so obvious is the example of a person who gathers data ad infinitum; waiting endlessly for the perfect insight, the perfect moment, before con-cretizing his dream in decision. Close to him is the example of the person who is caught in speculation to the point of paralysis. His personal intui-tions convolute beyond time and talent, becoming a threatening burden rather than a beaconing light. Substituting one a~tivity for another, washing the car instead of writing the checks, is yet another form of "doing nothing." A quite obvious form is plain indecisiveness. Not quite so easy to detect would be falling into a certain disproportionate balance of activity and passivity in prayer. One of the greatest struggles in prayer is knowing when to let go of activity in order to be quiet. As a person moves from a meditative stance to a contemplative stance, he is faced with the decision to choose or to resist passivity. Instinctively he would tend to resist whatever would challenge his depen-dence on word, fantasy, clarity or concept. In prayer, though, a person at some time is faced with the necessity of choosing the darkness of faith in place of his familiar dependency on thoughts and feelings. In the Exercises of St. Ignatius, the First Principle and Foundation (23) gives a clear direction against ~'doiflg nothingi': "The other things., are created for man to help him . Hence he ought to make use of them insofar as they help., and to rid himself of them insofar as they prove a hindrance." Later, in the Kingdom (91-98) the id quod volo (grace desired) is indicat- 49 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 ed in the petition to be "prompt and diligent., not to be deaf." Further on, the Three Classes of Men (149-155) portray sets of persons in the midst of decisions. At one extreme is the destructively passive man, who, filled with hopes, dreams, doubts, and attachments, comes to the end of~ his life uncommitted, not having "made use of any means." At the other end is the man of the ThirdClass who has developed a sense of freedom, a willingness to work with many options "to be better able to serve God our Lord." Many,, times people are unaware that there is any way out of their unproductive passivity, and thus see "doing nothing" as a way of survival. But this neednot be the case. A director who insists on careful discernment encourages his directee to find and develop many alternatives, thus lessen-ing the need for anyone to be locked into a single unproductive mode of ¯ acting. Over-adaptation A second, kind of passivity is over-adaptation; taking another's goal as one's own. Unlike the former category of "doing nothing," this one of over-adaptation appears to be busy and productive. Yet the exaggerated dependency role continues to operate and the results are destructive. Fear and "peace at any price" are common manifestations of over-adaptation in religious life. Yet it is often close to ordinary adaptation, which is a necessary~part of human existence. Hence over:gdaptation is difficult~to spot externally. However, careful listening to a directee can give a director many hints of how the directee is going to excessive pains not to cause trouble, to be nice, to be cooperative. Unfortunately it is not uncommon to hear of difficult or even impossible situations in which a person chooses to "sit" on his thoughts and feelings, to "adapt" rather than confront another person or a structure. The pain is often "offered up," and the unhealthy situation persists lest the individual be considered unmortified, or narrow-minded. Fear, too, can be used to mask over-adaptation. Especially among reli-gious women, being timid sometimes has an air of virtue about it. The timid woman wants to be rescued, preferably by a male spiritual director who will protect, reassure, and comfort her without suggesting that she move out of her unproductivity :and decide, with his help, what she is to do about it. Rather insidiously, this kind ofpassivity can be a mask for a deeper kind of aggression. It is difficult to challenge someone who is "trying so hard" to cooperate. Consciously or unconsciously, it doesn't take too long for the over-adapter to learn how much control can be gained in such a situation. Unfortunately, this kind of over-adaptation is often canonized as "docility." ,. Ironically, gaining control through over-adaptation often proves frus-trating. In the effort to mold, regulate and maintain the climate of safety created by over-adaptation, the directee often cannot hear the voice of the Destructive Passivity in Spiritua[ Direction Spirit. This kind of person has set up an atmosphere in which he does not have to give up his security. In clinging to safety he has substantially cut himself off from the world of inspiration and challenge. Directors often see this in directees who cannot believe that God could possibly be leading them beyond their self-made rules, beyond their self-made security and safety. Directees see this in directors who speak only of asceticism, never of mysticism, who prefer devotions and practices instead of fidelity to the Spirit. In some way those who claim they have no time for prayer as well as those who claim they cannot be involved with their neighbors both have fallen heir to passivity,in the form of over-adaptation. The former have let the rat race rather than their own head, heart and faith decide their destiny. The latter have refused to be molded by the poverty, particularity, and concreteness of the Incarnation.' Lastly, in our day, we often fail victim to concern for public relations. Our assumptions about what the bishop will think, what the lay teachers will think, what our community will think, what the Protestants Will think, what the children will think, and so on, endlessly, often decide the course of important events ?Further, they are used as a justification and motivation for over-adapting, for decisions which are unworthy of our faith experi-ence. Over-adaptation is an excellent example of how the "angel of darkness" comes disguised as an "angel of light" (Ex 332). We are all familiar with the monsters that have arisen in the guise of virtue under such "headings as availability, community, poverty, or blind obedience. Burning the candle at both ends, :navel gazing, stinginess, and the ill-use of human talents are all destructive~and.unworthy of the Kingdom. Those who have suffered these delusions might well look less to over-adaptation and more to considered responsiveness in their future decision-making. The Exercises are intended to be a celebration of one's gift of spiritual freedom. Key to that~disposition is ~ spirit of indifference. 1 can use things when I need them and put them aside when they hinder'rme. I canchoose the one or the other, not being unduly influenced by position, location or advancement. Such a stance demands a sense of presence: pres~ence to myself ag I accept the wonder and agony of who I am; and presence'to God as I accept the reality of Someone beyond'me who loves me, At the peak~ of the Ignatian ,experience, the exercitant becomes a cor~templative-in-action. Again and again, each one of the exercises faces him with the question: "What do I want?" He is asked to identify his desire and pray for what he needs. He is asked to face the reality of what he can do, what he needs to ask for, what he plans to do about it all. As though this were not enough, he is asked to order his de~i~es, prioritize his Iongings, lest he assume the posture of the man of the Secon~l Class (Ex 154), thus leaving himself open 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 to compromise and mediocrity, It is comforting to note that over-adaptation is often the easiest of the unproductive passivities to remedy. Most people who are negatively pas-sive have done a lot 0fthinking :to arrive at such a position. They are equally capable of assimilating new. information, though. For this reason, it would be a good thing for a director to confront such negative passivity directly. Thinking seriously about developing more positive options, a director and directee can develop new alternatives that lead to more creative results. Agitation The third category of unproductive passivity is agitation, the repetition of actions that have no meaning in terms of what the individual is seeking. In prayer this often shows itself in the kind of spiritual gluttony that ex-cludes the invitation to the darkness of faith. Most of us who pray consistently catch ourselves at times trying too hard, attempting to "program" a religious experience by learning the new-est techniques, and then clinging to the resultant experience as though it were God. Once an individual has fallen into this, it ultimately comes to him asa surprise to find that faith is~dark. His experience with this darkness then arouses anger, possessiveness, the demand that God come to him on his terms. His first experience with this reality often brings about more agita-tion in the form of worry, fretting, the gloomy exaggeration of his situation out of all proportion to its reality. Many persons tend to drop prayer at this point; "Nothing is happening," they say. Or they become over, involved in new techniques, in more interesting works, or in other people, rather than take the effort to learn to live comfortably with dark faith. Since religious people tend to be idealistic, they tend to strive for goals so high that the gap between the real self and the ideal self creates depres-sion rather than energy. Here is where good direction offers an opportunity for balance. Directors should be on the alert for extremes. Wild imaginings in time of prayer, quickly changing moods of sadness, exuberance, fear, or zeal need testing. It seems unlikely that experiences of being "bugged by God" about small ~hings or "being made to suffer" by God hold up in the pro.cess of good discernment. It is more likely that persons have allowed themselves the "luxury" of agitation as a replacement for the decision to accept fully the implication's of their call. Such a decision, lived, is sobering. Life with God becomes quiet, gentle, strong, and often hidden. One must be willing to give up the excitement of flurry, th.e pride of being a "martyr to the cause," the prestigiousness of extraordinary phenomena. The con-crete decision i.s amazingly simple, poor, and hidden, just as it was when the Word was made Flesh. St. Ignatius has many suggestions for coun~teracting agitation. In the Rules for Discernment for the First W~eek (313-327) he describes the behav-ior that is characteristic of those facing their own sinfulness. He warns Destructive Passivity in Spiritual Direction against secrecy, sadness, false reasoning, restiessness, frames of mind that lead to lack of faith, hope, and love. In the Second Week's Rules for Discernment (328-336) he describes the experience of agitation as "'violent, noisy, and disturbing." These, he counsels, are from the evil one. Again, [the course of thoughts suggested to us] may end in what weakens the soul, or disquiets it; or by destroying the peace, tranquility, and quiet which it had before, it may cause disturbance to the soul. These things are a clear sign that the thoughts are proceeding from the evil spirit, the enemy of our progress and eternal salvation ~333). Unfortunately, many enjoy their agitation. Not only does it substitute for their having to make a decision, but they can often find convincing reasons to suggest why it is actually accomplishing something. However, this would be a dangerous area to cultivate.Little that is long-lasting for the K~ngdom is accomplished through such agitation. Further, the'anxiety that I am arousing can move me into the more destructive aspects of passivity: incapacitation or violence. For the director, little or nothing is accom-plished by cooperating with the agitation ofhis directee. In fact, trying to dialog logically with a person in this state often brings the directee more deeply into a dependency role, delaying a good decision. In these cases an effort should be made by both director and directee to calm the agitation, moving it back to an over-adaptive situation where, temporarily at least, the director can give calm instructions that will provide a better atmosphere for the directee to think of alternatives and decide on more productive options. Incapacitation A more entrenched kind of passivity is the fourth type: incapacitation. 'One of the most common manifestations of freezing or incapacitation tn spirituality is stubbornness, an unwillingness to move one step further until I fully understand where I am going. This kind of stubbornness commonly occurs during the transition from meditation to contemplation. "I don't know what is going to happen, and I will not let go until I do," The result is that I stay where I am, often giving up mental prayer as a result. Hand-maid to stubbornness is scruple, a fear of doing something good lest I be wrong or at least somewhat ill-motivated, Much good can be left undone while a person worries about whether or not he is proud, vain, or ambitious, The Exercises answer this frame of mind. lfl such cases one should raise his mind to his Creator and Lord, and if he sees what fie is about to do is in keeping with God's service~, or at least not opposed to it, he should act directly against the temptation. According to St. Bernard, we must answer the tempter, "" I did not undertake this because of you, and I a.m not going to relinquish it~because of you" (351). Refusing to let go of an emotion, pleasant or agonizing, is another form of incapacitation. "'I can only pray provided it is a high experience." ""Io have grown comfortable with my anger (resentment, low self-image) and 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 the atmosphere I create helps me feel secure. I control my environment." Unfortunately, the situation backfires and shields the individual from life, i~ssenin'g the likelihood of his loving or suffering, rejoicing or crying with the rhythms of the real world. Having entrenched himself in his low self-image, he begins to project distorting 'images on God. God becomes the Great Controller, the Life-Taker, the Divine Exactor, rather than the Evoker of Freedom and the Loving Father. Lastly, incapacitation demon-strates itself as an unwillingness, an inability to look at one's blind spots. Fear of losing the security of his images often prevents the individual from being called beyond his own devices to the darkness of faith by the whispers of the Spirit. The Ex~rcises face incapacitation firmly by asking the individual to seek for the gift of knowing that he is deeply loved and ~knowing that he is at the same time sinful. Coupled with that grace is his growing realization of who he i~the wonder and the agonywthat leads him to grow comfortable and free with his own reality. In the protection of this new freedom the person does not.have to struggle for survival. He has experienced love. He knows that he is "precious in his sight" (Is 43:4). The Exercises would stir him out of his inactivity, bidding him to look at his secret stubbornnesses as a "false lover" who readily leaves as soon as he is discovered (326). In #325, I am admonished to face the temptation boldly so that it can be put to flight. My willingness to renounce my incapacitation reaches a high .moment when I honest|y put myse|f before Christ on the Cross "as one friend speaks to another" and hear myself own the answers to the triple question, " What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I to do for Christ?" (53). Paradoxically, the most extreme kind of passivity is violence. In it I give up my responsibility for thinking and loving to vent my energy on destruc-tion. Among religious people the violence is often inward: psychosomatic illness, masturbation, guilt, tortured imaginings. These are a poor substitute for the ecstacy to which I am called. The individual prefers the certainty of destruction to the uncertainty of wonder. Even worse, ,he can cloak the mess he has created in a false rationalization of the Third Degree of Humil-ity (Ex 167),thinking that these passivities are his way of bearing poverty, humiliation, and scorn with Christ. Eventually the fruits of distress and frustration, both in himself and in those who have to live with him, will hopefully bring him to his senses. The fruits of true Christian suffering and a true participation in Christ's life always bring forth peace and joy in the depths of the spirit. Violence can also be outwardly directed. We religious may not throw a chair through a window, but we do impose verbal burdens

Issue 37.4 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. 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. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $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. Gailen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1978 Volume 37 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW VOa RELIGtOUS; 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. The Prayer of Darkness Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol Jean is on the staff of St. Joseph Academy; Main Street; McSherrystown, PA 17344. An earlier contribution of Sister Carol Jean was "God, Community and the Religious Person" (September, 1976). The prayer of darkness shadows the human spirit after a moment of unparalleled, penetrating, haunting luminescence. For a moment God's life blazes in the center of the heart with an energy and vitality never previously perceived. So intensely does he reveal himself that it seems as though we are for the first time entering into life. Present existence appears dulled and unreal in the advent of so dynamic a presence. Dt~ring this experience we f~el so free that we could willingly surrender all to him and enter forever into this extraordinary existence so strangely, familiar and familiarly strange. The whole of our person ignites into a Conflagration of burning love and flaming longing for the living God. With false certainty, our intellect assures us that, finally, we have arrived at the. point of union with the transcendent Being] A radiating peace suffuseg our person and joy explodes in the rhythm of our hearts. " Such an experience may occur only once with tremendous power and potency, or it may recur over a relatively brief period of time for a few minutes dispersed through the c~3urse of several days or weeks. In the latter case, a loving Father gentles us along' slipping in and out of presence. Then--all goes black. Night descends. What remains of the experience is a living memory so real, so vivid that it charges the absence with an almost physical anguish of longing. This memory sustains us .through the darkness as it reminds us of the presence we seek and cannot now perceive. The keen remembrance of his presence is God's gift--it is spiritual food for the desert 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 of purification, for the night of daikness. The intense experience of God imprints on our spirit a knowledge of the destination to which we afe journeying. Indelibly inscribed in our hearts is the memory 0fthe presence of the God towards whom we are on pilgrimage. As the light within us to darkness dims, the flicker of the flame of his presence fires our minds with the knowledge that even in the darkness his Unseen presence shines. The memory of the light gives a vision of the journey's end though the way is charged with dark uncertainty. The value of this prayer of darkness is that it stretches us to the very limits of our being. It calls forth the essence of the energy of life even as it empties us of the essence of the power of death. Darkness breeds out the selfish desires, the egotistical goals, the hidden plottings of the covered and unknown subconscious. This prayer reveals us to ourselves as we are in God's sight and it empowers us to surrender to his transforming vision. While the sensible presence of God evades our questing, his unper-ceived presence burns our spirit to new depths of holiness. To view this process would be to die from too much revelation, so the darkness conceals the blinding fires of God's blazing furnace. The prayer of darkness is de-signed to lead us to a faith that slowly reveals the Fa~her--a gentle light glowing in the core of our inmost being. This light fires itself into the "living flame of love" only at the price of total surrender, absolute denial, con-summate purification. It seems strange that what is supposed to be so good pains us so terribly. The healing touch of God, like the knife of the diligent surgeon, stabs pain into the firm skin of our insidious sinfulness. Each moment of intense touching leaves the recipient reeling in a vacuum of tenebrity and agony. This darkness, which grows seemingly more and more impenetrable, slowly tempers us to withstand a light eqiaal in luminosity to the density of its opaque blaCkness. Phototropic like the seedling, we grow lightwards only at the cost of piercing the dark earth, dirt grain by dirt grain. The process of ascent proceeds slowly, and demands a careful scrutiny of each grain of sin and imperfection before that minute piece of earth moves aside and allows us to pass on to the next invariably different grain. The darkness of this night uncovers the darkness lurking within our own hearts. We behold ourselves as sinners even as we behold God's holiness as it floods the shores of our minds with the incredible truth of its potency. Such knowledge leads us deeper into the night where we know instinctively that we will be bared to the dark rays of a light powerful enough to eradicate the effects of sin~s tenacious grasp. It becomes clear to us that each at-tachment or need must be displaced. All that is not God must be relin-quished. EvEn our most secret loves must be released. Those attachments to which we cling unaware must be cauterized by a dark and unrelenting fire which flames secretly within us. Aware only of the darkness, we often fail to see the new light that slowly emerges as even those sins we knbw not become purified by the heat of the furnace of God. Such darkness is the price of vision. The Prayer of Darkness / 483 Early in formation we learned that the absence of God's consolation in prayer is an experience that everyone undergoes to a greater or lesser intensity. Yet, no matter how much we have read, heard, or pondered, when the night descends panic and question envelop us as well. We knew it would be painful, but never did we expect this degree of agony. We knew it would touch our lives with trials, but not that it would pierce into every corner of our lives demanding conversion. We knew that we needed purification, but not that we required the intensity of an inferno to burn away our ingrained loves. We knew that it would last a long time, but not that it might stretch out over years of molding, remolding, and molding yet again. For some reason, we do not actually believe that we are as sinful as the degree of purification would indicate. We fail to understand that he wants all, really all, and that he will stop at nothing to strip us of the affections that hold us back from the vision of his face. Perhaps the cross tests a dimension of man never explored by joy. Suffering and joy meet only in the moment of God. Joy draws us to the heights while suffering carves in us new caverns of depth. It is analogous to the. reflection of a high mountain in a limpid blue, crystal-mirroring lake. If the mountain's height could be perfectly scaled into the waters of the luminous lake it would, accurately represent the effect that suffering has on joy. The deeper the suffering the higher the'joy, reaching into the altitude of God. The cross tries the ability to endure, to expand in consciousness, to sail the seas of unknown mystery and to chart the oceans of unexplored inner space. Suffering is the vehicle that alone lets us enter and safely travel in the atmosphere of joy that.transfuses the divine milieu. It is the quality of our dying that determines the quality of our living. To the degree that we have been stripped and emptied will we be inner-directed and unshackled. The more deeply God has penetrated the uncircumcised regions of our hearts, the more freely will we be able to enter into the current of life unencumbered by our own dreams of success and hopes for self-glorification. The existential moment holds untold opportunities for life-choices birthed out~ of our death to callousness, indifference, and egoism. The death of the prayer of darkness draws Us out of ourselves. To survive the struggle it becomes imperative to forget self. If pain turns inward we become small, selfish, bitter, and self-pitying. Only an outward movement insures growth and new depths of holiness. Pain drives us be-yond the confines of the narrow world of "I" to consider, embrace, and compassionate with others. The' night of darkness bestows a new sense, of oneness with all other people for it puts us deeply in touch with the ground of their being. As we come to understand who we are, and who God is we learn to understand who others are and who God is in them. Our outward orientation toward God in pr.ayer seeps over into our everyday lives, be-coming an outward orientation toward others. ,. Trials which tear at every area of our lives characterize this dark 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 prayer--rejection by, or difficulties in community, lack of understanding on the part of friends, dissatisfaction with our apostolate, family difficulties or deaths, poor health, self-doubt, scrupulosity, lack of fulfillment even in those areas where we once met fulfillment. No created thing seems to be sufficient. There is a gnawing emptiness with the temporal and transient, even the eternal God rests silently in the dark impenetrable stillness of our being. This is but another way that the Lord strips us and shows us the emptiness of an existence apart from him. It is his way to mold our value system. In this state of dark uncertainty, he shapes us to image the design of his heart as each aspect of life reduces or enlarges to its proper pro-portion. Gradually the heart comes to cent(r solely on Jesus as Lord rec-ognizing him as the focal point of all living. The deeper we journey into the night the more we become absorbed in God. Indeed, we continually search for him in the midst of the darkness. At every turn, in every corner of ourselves we quest for some glimpse of the presence that more and more preoccupies our waking and even sleeping moments. The more elusive this lover the more ardently we seek him. Fear that we are not serving him stalks the inner caverns of our minds and we strive more totally to be faithful in the smallest details of our daily living. We are driven to perform voluntary acts of love knowing that such acts will draw us more deeply into the fire and more totally into him. Willing, joyful choices of self-death insure willing, joyful life-choices. Fasting, penance, self-giving constitute forms of self-immolation that seed new life in the fertile soil of the human spirit. The desire to fast from food is a form of death that disciplines the will to choose to fast from death-dealing words and actions. Penance forges in the deepest person a new desire to go beyond the narrow confines of self in an effort to direct our energies in service to others. Each time we transcend ourselves to serve the other we die a little more to that spirit of selfishness that holds us back from God and from those he loves. These active forms of voluntary self-death cannot even begin to approximate the depths of new found freedom wrought by the power of God's purification, but they are our contribution to the night of fire. Blessed is he or she who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in the question of its presence. This person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity. The more we submit to the fire of tempering the sooner we will find the inferno subsiding. If such generosity does not characterize our attitude, we can ponder the authenti(ity of the prayer itself. The night should birth in us greater service, increased prayer, deeper love of others, As the darkness washes the spirit with new life that life should begin to emerge and become visible to those whom we meet. It is a fire whose by-products are the fruits of the Holy Spirit. All the gifts with which we were endowed at baptism and confirmation become activated as the night of fire frees them from their The Prayer of Darkness / 41t5 resting place in the well of our person. New energy is released and life pours forth to the surface of our lives. The inward darkness more and more manifests itself as outward light. It is a pain that stimulates active concern for others as it burns away the self-concern that is an integral part of our sinful condition. The prayer of darkness is, then, a consuming, non-consuming fire. Our sinful and secret affinities are incinerated and purified while our spirit is filled with a new energy and power for creative living. At the night's be-ginning, we see the fire of God in a moment of intense, indwelling presence. Throughout the night itself the fire's action is so volatile that the flames are hidden from the eyes. The living God ravishes the heart and turns it toward himself. As the night ends we again behold the fire within--the fire that is the God of light dwelling in the ground of our being. This prayer teaches that the vision of God is given only to those who have endured the night of the cross. The prayer of darkness delivers ou~: bodies to the instrument of puri-fication. On this wood we are scourged, immolated, and ultimately con-secrated. To be crucified one must stretch out the whole length of his body. Such a body defies the power of death. It cannot be held. The tension toward life is too great. The body has been stretched beyond the point of death's power. Powerless, defenseless, and weak, the crucified body re-linquishes itself in an act of total faith. "In weakness, my power reaches perfection." This body enters the state of total surrender and in that stance the Lord of life invadeS the human spirit and fills it with the power and strength and light of the life of God. This action constitutes the purpose Of the prayer of darkness. It crucifies the human spirit and purifies it so that once faith becomes the habitual attitude of personal presence to God and others, the Trinity may reveal its dwelling.place in the now light-filled inner space of the heart's secret chamber. God himself has carved out his kingdom in our hearts. Suffused with an atmosphere of faith, irradiated with the light of Jesus Christ, powered by the energy of the Holy Spirit, sacralized by the presence of the Father, this secret room pulses with divine presence. To this dwelling place of God comes the person readied for betrothal. The night of darkness ended, the human spirit basks in the light of God gently flaming in the secret chamber of his fire-tendered heart. The night of darkness is the furnace of God, the birth-bed of life, the dark forger of light. Endured in all of its terrible intensity it creates new space for living. Once ended the night heralds the dawn of the day of forever, the momentless moment of visionless vision. Two Models of Christian Spirituality Val J. Peter Father Peter, a priest of the Archdiocese o.f Omaha, is currently associate professor of theol, ogy at Creighton University; 2500 California St.; Omaha, NE 68178. A I. Case Studies in Confusion young religious complains of problems of vacillation in his prayer life, his relations with others, and his self-concept. These three are generally good when he is performing well. But he has discovered since leaving the novitiate that virtue is not virtue unless there is a realistic alternative. So when his performance inevitably falters, so does his ability to pray. And because his self-concept is also diminished, he really cannot relate "to anyone on a deeper level. At times he is so gripped with a sense of un-worthiness and shame that he is not open to people around him. Because of this he feels intense loneliness and really feels ashamed to express his difficulties to anyone. Often he is paralyzed by an intense introspective-ness, constantly questioning his motives for every'thing. A retired religious finds herself becoming increasingly angry and bitter at her religious order. She was told in the novitiate to strive for perfection, "never be happy with yourself,." andalways try to please. During her long teaching career she was what many considered a model of obedience, piety, and hard work. Now she is old and sick and shunted off into a corner of a retirement home. Since she has outlived her usefulness, she findsJ herself shorn of any self-worth. Her source of securit~ is shattered. She is bitter and angry at the way she was trained, the way she lived, and the way she is now treated. A religious in her thirties has been in counseling for some months. She complains of being increasingly unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 4117 result o fan intense romantic affair of short duration some years previously. She blames a book she read on sex and celibacy for the trouble she got herself into. In her mind God simply will not forgive her so she cannot forget. A former religious talks cynically of his experience in the order as alienating, unhealthy, and destructive. He says he became alienated from himself in that despair and self-hate were the result of his poor perform-ance. He says he became alienated from others beause his daily decision making was inevitably based on trying to conform the world to his need for security. He says it alienated him from God, in that God was seen as master and man as slave, no matter how much official rhetoric denied it. Because of this threefold alienation he has rejected his former order as well as its religion completely. These cases illustrate a central problem of Christian spirituality today. What in truth is God's relationship to his creatures and how does man's behavior fit into this relationship? The gospels tell us of the depths of God's love but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. There are even dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us first faced this issue as children in the context of totalitarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Some still do not see the need to grow beyond it. For the many others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by threats and promises, the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from such control but rather what this freedom is for. Where do we go from here? Is the on!y option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to a series of petty misdemeanors? The answer to these questions may seem ob, vious to some, But they are not so obvious to the anguished people in the cases citedabove. In an age of anxiety and uncertainty it is the obvious that is most in need of exegesis. To illustrate the problem and answer these questions, let us contrast the results flowing from two models of Christian spirituality. We are not seek-ing proof but rather understanding. The evidence brought forth by modern scholars, not to mention the great spiritual masters, is simply too massive to be overlooked: in Christianity ethics is secondary to the central religious affirmation of God's gift of self to ]as in Christ Jesus, So our purpose is to~ understand the relationshiP between divine and human initiative and re-spon. se ~by spelling out the consequences that result from rightly and wrongly understanding ttiis relationship between God and man. Model A: Human Initiative and Divine Response This first model is familiar to all who can relate to the cases cited above. It makes Christianity first and foremost into an ethic. Here the primary source of our security as God's creatures is our performance which God awaits before deciding what attitude to take toward ~us. To rest our security 41111 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 before God on our performance is an easy mistake for us to make. After all, we judge others on the basis of their performance; our attitude toward our fellowman reflects our reaction to his performance. And we expect the same from others. In addition, the mistake is congenial to our American culture with its heavy stress on results and on efficiency. So if a person desires that God love him very much, then he will have to perform very well indeed. ~ What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone serious about his spiritual life will feel an urgent need to change his behavior, to move from insecurity to security before God, to avoid the wrath that is sure to come, and to advance along the path to perfection. Go to the spirituality section of your library and see how many tomes have the word, perfectio.n, in their titles. Acting on the desire to perform better, one of four things is likely to happen: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that the behavior which you had thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, insignificant and irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in the effort. In other words, convinced that your criteria are correct, you embark on a program of moral renewal and fail miserably. You simply cannot change. iv. Or you can try to change your poor performance, and succeed in that effort. Examples of the~e four possibilities come quickly to mind. i. You should be proud of it, not sad. In this approach one changes the moral evaluation of acts to diminish the burdens of guilt. The religious who complains of being unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a result of a brief but intense romantic affair is a prime candidate for this approach. She has performed poorly--by her own evaluation. But feeling the weight of this poor performance and the resulting negative attitude of her God, she may decide (in fact she may be mistakenly encouraged in this decision) upon further reading and reflection that her criterion has reversed itself: God would surely be very displeased if this affair were morally evil; but what if it is not? Was not her loving this man a most important awakening of her humanity as a woman, a maturing of her love psychologically and spirit-ually? Did it not relieve her loneliness, support her faltering ego, moderate her frustrations, and bring a refreshing experience of closeness? Is not God proud of her? Should she not also rejoice and be proud? With this change in criteria comes relief from the agonizing burden of guilt and a new attitude on the part of God. The main point here is that Model A sharply reduces the odds of making sound judgments about criteria for morality. Why? Because the central concern of this religious and others operating under Model A is not to discover the truth of the affair but rather to come to grips effectively with Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 41t9 the guilt and insecurity built into this situation by the model itself. What she is really doing is searching not for truth and genuine value but for a way to eliminate guilt and achieve good performance. The heart of Model A is manifest: "All is well because I perform well." She mistakenly assumes that the divine and human initiative and response are best understood by way of this model. Thus if there are authority figures who assertx andy are worthwhile~ this religious may be persuaded to accept what they say, not because it really is so, but because the security of good performance results from her acceptance of their words. It takes a certain degree of skill and desire for truth to sort out the opinions of various theologians on any topic. If you rummage through their opinions to find one that eliminates guilt, then you.may think you have found a bargain. But like most bargains you only get what you pay for. ii. You're worrying about the wrong things. In this second way of handling poor performance, one simply ceases to worry about a heretofore troublesome area of :morality. The young religious who complains about vacillation in his prayer life, his self-concept, and his relations with others is a prime candidate for this second approach. His problems are impatience, anger, jealousy, and revenge. Feeling the weight of his poor performance, and thus God's displeasure, he is strongly motivated by an urgent need to. stem his reversals and resume his advance along the path to perfection. Here too he can; after study and reflection, come to the conclusion that morality is not so much concerned with "keeping oneself unspotted by the world",as it is with "caring for widows and orphans." He can conclude that impatience and petty jealousy--and .even casual anger and a little re-venge- are pretty much morally indifferent especially in an age when there is so much social injustice in the world: racial prejudice, nuclear blackmail, grinding poverty, overpopulation, and pollution. This certainly makes him feel a lot better about himself. It improves his prayer life and his relationships with others. This is a tremendous benefit in anybody's book. But the point again is that Model A severely limits the chances for making correct moral judgments because its central focus is the intensely felt need to get rid of insecurity and unhappiness. Changing cri-teria can be sound and balanced, but it is seldom so if strongly motivated by the felt insecurity of poor performance in following Model A. For in this model, changing moral criteria can be basically a technique for dealing with guilt rather than the result of a successful search for truth. One of the "benefits" of living in a time when there is both an "old morality" and a "new morality" is that these first two ways of dealing with poor per-formance are more readily available and much more attractive. It's like a gigantic theological "sale." You can find a bargain or two without ever coming tO grips with why you are at the bargain counter in the first place. iii. The darkness of despair. The third way of dealing with poor per-formance is to try to change our behavior and fail miserably in that effort. 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 The cynical former religious who considers his experience in his order as alienating and destructive is but one tragic example. He simply could not change his behavior. So he then found himself facing an even more dis-pleased God than before. He was literally in a "hell of a mess." This route is a well-traveled one, worn smooth with the tears of depression, the fa-miliar terrors of the night, and the deep-seated angers of countless an-guished pilgrims. For many, sin-sickness now sets in, not infrequently leading some to the local psychiatrist. A more moderh version of sin-sickness is manifest in the ever increasing need for some to employ various forms of sensitivity training and make them into a way of life. The other option, chosen by the alienated former religious, is to reject altogether the religion of such a Tormentor-God in order to preserve one's mental health. If these are the only choicesmmental breakdown or rejection of religion--it is understandable why the latter would seem attractive. In these circum-stances, who would be so insensitive and cruel as to threaten such a person with the biblical consequences of an atheism he now embraces as a last resort? One certainly gains an insight into the problems of Model A by analyzing the despair one is led to under these circumstances. One cannot .turn to God. One is rather driven away from God who has become not the source of all security and all care but the very opposite. , iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. What are the problems that loom large for such a person as he strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? If such is the case a Model A person is sure to feel secure in the knowledge that God is pleased with him, loves him a great deal, and has a commensurate reward waiting for him in the life to come. Three problems, however, plague the success of a Model A Christian, problems built into the model itself: i. problems of self-righteousness and self-Sufficiency ii. problems of self-deception iii. problems with ongoing conversion. Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men. A man who has achieved considerable success in his priestly life may feel his consistently good performance to be a source of great security and happiness. But since his security is in his performance and not in God as a result of using this model, he ~pays a high price for it. He feels self-righteously superior to others; he looks down on them; he tends not to listen very much to their ideas (after all if they were so smart, why aren't they more successful?). This priest seldom, if ever, seeks spiritual advice and does not need a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 491 spiritual director. He is self-sufficient. He is his own counselor--and con- ¯ sequently has a fool for a client. This priest sees no problems in living out his permanent commitment since he is particularly strong-willed and has highly developed coping techniques. He is convinced that all those who break their permanent commitments are simply weak-kneed and callow, lacking willpower. ii. Using the publican's words while praying the pharisee's prayer. Take the case of a highly successful religious who believes that his good performance really and trulyis due to God's grace. He does not merely ask God foi" good fortune while attaining virtue on his own. No, he says, it is God's grace~that makes him both want to perform well and actually do so. But, he says, God has given his grace indifferently and impartially to all, only to be fair, to give everyone a fighting chance. Life is for him much like a race in which God, as 'referee and judge, to be fair and impartial, gives everyone a fighting chance. So this religious could not have been successful without God's help, just as a football team cannot win the game if the referees are not fair. Yet now he has won so God owes him the promised reward. He is deceived by his success--not only about permanent com-mitment but also about success and failure, his own and others'. And h~ peddles his products to a ready-made market where they are in great de-mand. So by using the publican's words as packaging, he deceives himself and his customers into thinking they are buying something other than the pharisee's problems. ~ iii. If today you hear his voice, do not harden your heart. Take the case of a dynamic, n0-nonsense sister who has achieved considerable success as principal in an affluent parochial school. She has always been a winner ever since the novitiate days when she was singled' out as a future leader. She does.not tolerate--and neither does God--failure~in her own life nor in the teachers under her. On this tight ship they either produce or walk the plank. Success has long secured for her the status and acclaim that God and her public have in store for winners. She's got the world on the end of a string. Mother Teresa is scheduled to talk in town, and this principal out of curiosity makes a special effort to go and see for herself what this "living saint" has to offer. But she gets more than she bargained for. In a:totally unexpected flash of. insight she sees Mother Teresa surrounded by success yet seemingly oblivious to, and immune from, what are now clearly seen as its seductive effects. By comparison she suddenly experiences just for a moment the spiritual shabbiness of her own small love for God and his people. How was she to know? What must God think of her now? Thus does her long established but~tenuous security vanish in the intensity of the moment. What is she to do? Either she puts these thoughts out of her mind by explaining them away (something not too hard to do) or she will be thrown back into the insecurity before God which she has seen so often in others 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 and which, she thought, her complete success had vanquished. The former is clearly a much more attractive option. In other words the security of good performance is a very tenuous security indeed. It lasts only as long as good performance lasts. It finds immense difficulties in acknowledging the need for an ever deepening change of heart, an ever deepening realization of our sinfulness and our inability to love God more--the ongoing need for a Savior and Redeemer. Let us conclude with a brief look at the case of the retired religious who, having outlived her usefulness, noff finds herself increasingly isolated in lonely bitterness and resentment. She is suffering from an ailment prevalent in.Model A, a pathology which Rollo May once called "the divine right to be taken care of." When she wasstill young in the religious life she entered into a contract with God which read as follows: "I, Sister Alice, the party of the first part, agree that I shall always and forever permanently give up the following activities for my entire lifetime: worshipping other gods, taking the Lord's name in vain, dishonoring parents, killing, committing sexual sins, stealing, cheating, lying, and coveting. I further agree to relinquish my right to make moral judgments to God, the party of the second part, and his lawful representatives. And I, God, the party of the second part, in return for the faithful obedience of the party of the first part, do hereby grant Sister Alice the right to my special care; and I, God, do further promise that if she keeps her promise, I will reward the party of the first part with success and happiness." Well, Sister Alice, retired and shunted off to a corner of a rest home, is not as happy now as she thinks she should be. So, she feels, God has not kept his part of the contract. He has not honored her "divine right to be taken care of." What happens? Confusion, anger, and resentment take hold and spiritual collapse is near. "I was promised that I would always be taken care of if I were obedient. Look how obedient I have been all my life. So why am I not being taken care of?." Notice how different this is from the genuine Christian response: "Lord, I love you no matter what." Notice too thatthis kind of contract is also popular in the postconciliar Church. Only minor modifications are necessary. First, substitute the char-acteristics of love listed in 1 Co 13 for the Ten Commandments. Secondly, substitute the duty always to follow one's conscience for the duty always to obey religious superiors. The rest of the contract is the same, as aie the results. ~ For many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an under-standable reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only alternative is a model which whitewashes all activity no matter how morally atrocious by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical de- Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 493 mands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sen-timental love. They rightly see a gospel of sentimental love as doubly defective, unfaithful as it is to both the radical love of God and to his demands as well. Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that reduces sin to a series of petty misde-meanors? That is the question which.we shall directly address in the second part of this study. II. Case Studies in Confidence We have been looking at the gospels. They tell us of the depths of God's love for us but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. We even find their pages filled with dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us faced thi~ issue as children in the context of authoritarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Many still do not know how to grow beyond this context. For others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by the threats and promises inherent in Model A (described graphically in Part I), the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from that totalitarian control but rather, what is this freedom for? What is this freedom grounded in and oriented towards? Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-spon, sible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to inconsequential misdemeanors? Model B: Divine Initiative and Human Response So we will look at another model of moral performance. This one does not ground our security in our performance but rather in the Good News of God's self gift. A word of caution is in order here. As mentioned at the conclusion of Part I, for many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an understandable .reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only al-ternative is a model which whitewashes all activity, no matter how morally atrocious, by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical demands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sentimental love. They rightly see such a gospel as doubly defective. It is unfaithful not only to the radical moral demands of the gospel but also to the radical nature of God's love as well. Unfortunately so many examples of people abandoning the radical demands of the gospel for a watered down version of the love ethic can be cited that these seem to be the only two options available---one even more defective than the other. Model B, as we shall call it, goes beyond these two options. It is a higher 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 37,~ 1978/4 viewpoint arrived at by way of a deeper understanding of the relationship between God and man. In this model one tries to be faithful to the truth of both the immediacy of God's care (his radicallove no matter what), and the immediacy of God's demands which flow from this divine love. Unlike Model A, this model does not make Christianity into just an ethic. It rather understands that Christianity is first and foremost an effec-tive affirmation of God's relationship with his creation: it is the revelation in Christ Jesus of God's own gift of se!f, his love--sacrificial love--no matter what. Unlike the sentimental love posture, this model takes God's love so seriously that there is an urgent, radical call to respond. It is out of this incredibly serious gift of God's own self that the radical demands of the gospel arise. These ethical demands are not radical because of threats and promises; they are. radical because God's gift of self is at the root of divine and human existence. Whatever threats and promises there are in this model, they are not controlling. They are not the kind of threats and promises found in a dictator-slave relationship as in Model A. They are rather the very special kinds of threats and promises that inevitably accompany any genuine movement toward self-absorption and toward self donation. These kinds of threats and promises are inherent in the kind of.relationship we call agapeic love. And the more intense the love, the more it penetrates to the depths of our being, the more it is both promising and threatening at the same time. This dizzying balance of joy and dread, fulfillment and anxiety has much to do with the fact that love is so exciting. The stirrings of this kind of love are the first stirrings of hope. So in Model B, a person listens to the Word of God and is moved genuinely to wonder what is so unheard of that it is proclaimed in such a startling style. One hears that God's attitude toward us is not grounded in our performance in such a way that God simply reacts to that performance. One wonders how that can be so, since we so often find it not so in our dealings with men. In fact a person comes to anticipate that others will treat him in a way that is a manifest reaction to how he treats them. If it is so that God's ways are not man's ways, then that would be good news indeed. He hears further that God initiates and does not simply react. God so cared about men that he sent his Son; his Son so cared about them that he gave his life for them. And having given his life he still so cared about them that he sent the Spirit who would flood their hearts with so deep a care that it would flow over into the lives of others. That man Jesus, who knewGod as "my father," loved his father "no matter what." And he knew that his father loved him "no matter what," simply because he was his son. The immediacy of his father's care that daily dawned on him in, ever different ways in the face of daily different experiences was an immense wellspring of security. It was not the security that is grounded in performance: "All is well because I perform well." Indeed he performed well and his father Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 495 rejoiced in that. No, it was a security grounded in the fact that he was simply his beloved son. It was not a security stemming from a senile,~ grandfather-like care toward an immature child who can do what he feels like doing without fear, without demands made on him. No, he understood that out of that care flowed the most urgent need to do the will of his father. It was not a security that Would immunize him from loneliness and terror. He found in the desert the courage to stand alone and not throw himself down ("God will bear you up!"). He had no contract resulting in "the divine right to be taken care of." What he had was the assurance of his father's care no matter what befell him. What he had was not the as-surance that there would be only success and acclaim--no numbness of defeat, no sorrow, no pain, no indifference, no enmity, no fears, no be-trayals, no rejection, no death. But rather the assurance that even in all of the~e there was at work his father's care which was strong enough, effective enough, loyal enough to be trusted. It was a security born of love--with all that this entails. So, too, you and I hear that our Father is radically in love with us; that he is our Father as well, one who loves his sons and daughters no matter what, simply because he has set his heart on us and spoken our names. He calls us to a human life so deep that it is somehow divine. A man wonders ¯ how this can be so. But he begins to realize how when it begins to dawn on him that he is himself falling radically in love with God. He will now have to throw away all old contracts with God and learn to get along without such. In Model B the source of security for the Christian is then in the first instance the immediacy of God's care~ Because this care is not plastic, there flows from i~ the immediacy of God's demands. It is all the more intense because our very being thirsts for the living God. "Our souls were made for thee, O God, and they will not rest until they rest in thee." Thus mankind, bent on denying its own meaning while it cries out for it, encounters its sole source and destiny in this divine sel(donation. Operating under this model the possibilities are twofold, as in Model A: either my performance is poor, by whatever standards, or it is good. Here too we shall examine each of the alternatives. What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone' serious about his spiritual life will be moved to change his,behavior. But the motive will not be the conviction that I am not keeping my part of the contract. Nor again will the motive be the need to escape the loneliness and terror that poor performance brings in Model A. In Model B the proper formation of conscience begins with worship; the will of God is best seen in the work of God, our redemption. It is his will that we accept wholeheartedly 'his gift of sell his fidelity and love no matter what. Am I doing God's will? This is the first place where the question must 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 be answered. Am I accepting his redemptive .love, his steadfast and loyal love? Note here that even in Model B there is insecurity in poor performance. The insecurity even functions at the same primordial level as the security flowing from God's steadfast love. It functions within the controlling horizon of God's saving fidelity. So the insecurity found in Model B is of a different type than in Model A. It is not founded on the false premise that God values me only for my utility. It is not the insecurity flowing from the supposed conditional nature of God's self gift. So the realization in faith that God is faithful "no matter what" eliminates the root problem central to morality in Model A. In this redemptive relationship, poor performance is simply that, poor. Surely I am sorry; I have not cared enough. And the inability by myself to care enough turns me back to the source of all care. But the poor per-formance remains. What shall I do about it? Four possible choices come to mind: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that the behavior which you thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in that effort. iv. You can try to change your poor performance, and succeed. i) and ii) The search for the truth. Let us take some examples. A mid-dle- aged religious finds herself haunted by the specter of world famine. She feels so troubled by the miseries of mankind that she cannot even enjoy a fine steak-dinner. In fact she just returned from a home visit and could hardly sit through the family Christmas dinner where the table groaned under the sheer weight of the sumptuous repast. She felt guilty for having participated in such. In fact she feels guilty about being born in such a family and in such a country where the wealth is simply "loot stolen by an imperialist, racist society." She half believes that she is stealing food from the nomads in Sahel when she drives her car. She half believes that by eating steak (which costs twenty times as much protein to produce as we get from it) instead of soybeans she is directly taking food out of the hands of Bangladesh children. The main concern and principal need of this religious is to discover the truth of the matter and that is no small undertaking. But it is surely a different undertaking than the illusive search for security for a way to appease an angry God, so characteristic of Model A. Her search is for truth and genuine value rather than simply seeking a way to eliminate guilt. To do God's will, to love effectively is a movement toward what is truly good, and not just apparently such. So one searches for what is really true and truly worthwhile because one simply, and really, wants to know, no matter Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 497 what the other consequences. There is a terrible need to find out. Such a need for truth does not guarantee results. But it does improve the odds of making better judgments about what is right and wrong. This need for the truth provides an openness which is the beginning of a self-corrective process. There are many areas of our lives where our criteria for right and wrong need ongoing revision, and sometimes even radical reversal. There are many areas of our lives where, due to misunderstanding, values are de-valued and disvalues are valued. The misunderstanding is not merely due to lack of information or education but also due to lack of love. Sexuality comes quickly to mind as an area little understood. But it is not the only, nor even the principal arena for ongoing autobiographical revision of cri-teria for right or wrong. Self donation and self-absorption, authority, and autonomy, justice and charity are much more critical. Now moved by a deep hunger for the truth, one can still make mistakes in judgment, but the felt need to be open to the truth in whatever arena (lying, stealing, world hunger, sexual behavior, and so forth) tends to countercheck our biases which predetermine the results of our investigation. iii. Lord, to whom shall we go? The third way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior, and to fail miserably in that effort. Take the case of a priest who struggles with ambition for status and higher office, with an insatiable thirst for public honors and recognition--a problem common to conservative and liberal alike. He now sees that he has lived too much of his life bartering half-truths for favors, service for ac-colades, compromise for advancement. He gave too many people lies when they asked for truth and he half convinced himself that he was helping the Church by populating her with' scoundrels and liars. But of late he has been deeply troubled by questions such as those St. Thomas More put to Sir Richard Rich, a man who bartered perjury for the post of Attorney General of Wales: "For Wales? Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world . But for Wales!" Like Israel as seen through the eyes of the prophet Osee, this priest had through the years pursued the desires of his own heart. His life, like the history of Israel, was a sordid and shameful story of the betrayal of Yahweh's hesed, his steadfast love. And now, try as he might, he finds himself caught in the coils of a sinful history from which he cannot extricate himself. Is there any light in the midst of his terrible darkness? Is there any radical source of hope to vanquish despair, that frightful footsoldier quar-tered in his house? "Lord, to whom shall I go?" The answer is to turn to the Lord as the source of all care, all strength, all healing. So here failure can be acknowledged for what it is yet it is not conducive to despair. With Augustine we can still say: "Late have I loved thee, O Beauty, so ancient and so new!" Perhaps most people do not experience such a massive case of failure 491~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 as this priest. But there is no doubt whatsoever that most people do ex-perience pernicious and persistent failure in at least one or two special areas of their lives: pride and prejudice, lying and cheating, sexual infidelity and inordinate self-seeking. In all these cases failure does not force one to turn away from an angry God but rather toward God as the radical source of all healing and care. Failure does not make you search out magic rituals of the latest psychological variety nor of the more traditional kind. (Wouldn't that be a relief and wouldn't it allow us a better chance of judging and applying the techniques of modern psychology in a more appropriate and refreshing way?) Here one realizes that God really cares no matter what; that he seeks to break the chains of our bondage and to emancipate us for a new life; that he sets out to win our hearts: "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards, and make the valley of Achor a door of hope. And there she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt" (Os 2:14-15). "Lord, you can do all things; you can make me whole." This is God's purifying love. Yet it is apparently far easier for many people to believe in a god who dislikes us than in one who loves us no matter what, who seeks to bring his creation and redemption to fruition within us. The latter is far harder to believe than the mystery of the Holy Trir~ity itself. For not a few people really dislike themselves, and so they shape God to their own image. Or at best they imagine God pounding his gavel and saying at the Last Judgment: "You people on the left, there, are going to hell. You people on the right, there, are going to heaven. And I am going out to lunch because I am sick and tired of the whole business."' God, the indifferent Judge, more ~nterested in lunch than in us! The New Testament .is good news indeed, most surprising to us in the midst of our failures. If it is lived, then there need be no convulsive efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of all care. iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of ' dealing with our ~erformance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. How does such success function for a person who, calling God "Father," strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? Now God rejoices in man's good performance. But the Christian's se-curity does not rest in any infallible guarantee of its c6ntinuance. In this situation there is a quiet joy and a considerable desire to share one's inner peace. But there is also fearand sometimes even trembling.Yet the fear is not a neurotic anxiety of a mere performance-relationship. Rather it is a healthy respect for the inconstancy ofourhearts, not God's. One is not sure of one's continued good performance, but only sure of G0d's healing care. Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 499 The problems that plague the success of a Christian operating out of Model A (problems built into the model) are transposed by the remedies inherent to Model B: i. problems of self-righteousness ii. problems of permanent commitment iii. problems of ongoing conversion Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner. It is not for naught that the greatest saints proclaimed themselves very great sinners. Because the source of security and strength is God's care, there is less opportunity for self-righteousness, self-sufficiency and pharisaism to enter the picture. This is because the more one loves, the more one realizes the need of the beloved. The priest who has achieved considerable success in preaching and hearing confessions realizes that God uses the weak to heal the strong, the little ones of this world to confound the proud. He tends to listen to others because God speaks in strange ways and in unexpected places. He realizes that his greatest strength lies in his very weakness. He needs a spiritual director because self-deception is an old friend. As he goes through life he realizes that every stage of age. and wisdom and grace is accompanied by new and different temptations, all of them new and none of them quite expected, thus presenting ever fresh insights into our complete and radical dependence on God. The wisest man of all is one who at the end relies only on the mercy of God and in all honesty declares himself an unprofitable servant. ii) All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun. For those who mistakenly ground the feasibility of permanent commitment in man's fidelity and not God's, there are only two alternatives, both equally unenlightened and unattractive. Either permanent commitment be-comes no problem at all for me because I am particularly "strong willed" and have highly developed coping techniques. In this case I tend to view all those who do not keep their commitments to be, without ex~geption, weak-kneed and callow, somehow lacking willpower. Or permanent commitment becomes an agonizing problem to be resolved best by denying even the desirability of that kind of commitment since I could only commit myself if I were sure of my future performance. But given not only my track record but also everyone's potential for change, growth and development, then permanent commitment is risky at best and ludicrously dishonest at worst. In this case those who look down on lives of broken commitments are simple souls at best or rigid elitists at worst. For those however who ground permanent commitment in God's fidel-ity, these tortuous alternatives are unnecessary. A higher viewpoint opens up. I can commit myself permanently not because I am sure of my per-formance but because I am sure that, "with God, all things are possible." 5111~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This changes my whole set of expectations about the future. I expect growth and development as well as my own failures to radically affect my life--to bring unheard of dilemmas and opportunities. I'm not sure how I will react to these but I do know this about tomorrow, that Providence will rise before the sun. iii. Lord, the sea is so wide and my boat is so small. A person's good performance arising out of response to God's steadfast love often makes him experience again and anew how poor this good performance has been. This experience may make him realize his inability to love God more. Thus the need for ongoing conversion. Here again one is turned to the source and font of that care. If the source of security for the Christian is God's own self gift, then the dawning awareness of being a sinner can really be accepted without neu-rotic anxiety on one hand and without a "who-gives-a-damn" or even despair attitude on the other hand; without withdrawal from an evil world and yet with appreciation for moments of withdrawal; without convulsive efforts to achieve and yet with the most wholehearted efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of care. Then one might,find the courage to accept his shortcomings for what they are and, in the healthiest sense, strive mightily to move forward. The Christian has no need to become overly anxious about his d~epest instinctual drives which rise to the surface of his life in the forms of desires for self-aggrandizement or self-destruction. Instinctive impulses are not taboo. There is no need to live in Hesnard's I'univers morbide de lafaute. If it is true that God cares "no matter what," then the individual can recognize his instincts as both a possibility and an opportunity to be laid hold of. He can accept himself as he is--the beginning of inner freedom. He can deal with his anxieties as they arise because he is sure of God's care. And he is sure that this care is creative. Thus good performance becomes not the singular source of security but the fruit of security and a cause for rejoicing and gratitude. Perhaps he does not understand very well what performance is asked or required or called for. But he will begin where he is and do what he can, confident that some answers, however partial or tentative, will be forthcoming. So he listens, is attentive, is alert to them, is open. Once we are aware of the graciousness of God's concern, we become aware too that we will grow in further recognition of values. The choice between Model A and Model B is a clear one. Model B takes its stand with the New Testament. Where do you take yours? Community Living: Some Options Barbara Hazzard, S.N.J.M. Sister Barbara is the principa, l of Holy Spirit Elementary School in Fremont. She offers spiritual guidance and, for the past five years, has been directing retreats and has been on the summer staff of the Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos. She resides at 3930 Parish Avenue; Fremont, CA 94536. " During the past few years, my concern about community life has become acute. Being a spiritual director and retreat guide for sisters of many dif-ferent communities has made me very aware of the problems which exist in community life today. The greatest problem seems to be the indifference or fear which members of a group have with regard to helping one another lead a deeply Christian life. There are all .kinds of things which can and do serve as anesthetics against this problem: overwork, socializing, formal religious exercises, meetings, professional commitments, family commit-ments, television--and time passes on, and the frustration grows. The following remarks are one person's perception of a need, and one way of dealing with that need. They arise out bf my faith in and hope for the future of religious life--in gratitude to the religious who have shared a similar faith and hope with me. An active, in opposition to contemplative, religious congregation is founded primarily to fulfill a need of the times; i.e., caring for the poor, caring for the sick, instructing the ignorant, and so forth. A religious con-gregation is a group of people who come together to live out the gospel with a certain emphasis on a particular facet of the gospel message. The under-lying purpose of coming together is twofold: to support and encourage one another in living a faith life, and to work together to proclaim the gospel to others. The first part, the support and encouragement of one another in 501 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 living a faith life, remains constant. It should become deeper and richer as the group grows in faith. The second part, the particular work of the group, is subject to change as the needs of the times shift. The concern here regards the first part of our purpose. Our pragmatic, materialistic culture has not left religious communities untouched. Most active congregations in the United States live on the level of the upper middle class. They do not want materially for much. This is not a reflection on individuals, but rather a reflection on the life-style and image which organized religious groups live and project in today's world--and on the need to look at that life-style and image. Does the nourishment of our faith-life in fact vivify our witness of the gospel, or are we a group of educated, efficient people running institutions with only a "flavor" of Christianity? Are the demands of the gospel too risky? Do we hide behind "prudence" and "practicality" as an excuse for not living our beliefs more radically? The values of Jesus seem contradictory to the values of some of his followers. He led a poor life, dependent on his Father and those around him. He was not identified with aspecific "cause" of his time, yet dealt with the problems at hand. Much of his ~problem" concerned organized religion and its ministers, those who were more concerned with the letter than with the spirit, who said one thing and did another. If Jesus were to walk this earth today, he would most likely have a similar experience. Jesus' only desire was to do whatever it was his Father wanted of him. He often sought time for prayer, alone and with his disciples, in order to know his Father's will. How often do .members of religious orders come together today in prayer specifically to know the Father's will for them, being open and ready to accept whatever that may be? There is always time for chapters, com-mittee meetings, renewal meetings, and more. Where is the time for cor-porate prayer? And how many would come if the time were provided? Is there a fear of the changes that might reveal "the Father's will"? The words uttered by so many religious today are phrases like: "I'm not surewhat we are about any more." "'I'm so tired most of.the time I can't pray.' . I feel as though I live in a boarding house. What kind of~:ommunity life do we have?" There are no simple answers. But such statements must be heard as symptoms of a condition which needs to be treated. What is necessary in order to begin the process? The primary condition is a willingness to change on the part of the individual religious, a will-ingness to say, "I am willing to try a different life-style or to adjust my life-style-- and to risk failure in trying--in order to improve the quality of my life." Time is needed, which means curtailing other commitments, to pray, to talk, to listen, to plan, not in the context of a chapter, but by coming together in small groups, for those who are willing. A clarification of val.ues is necessary. For some, the priority is the apostolate which feeds their Community Living: Some Options prayer, and their community life. For others, the priority is prayer which nourishes both community and apostolate. For still others, community life nurtures prayer and the apostolate. Certainly prayer, community life, and the apostolate are not separate entities. All three should flow together, but the emphasis will vary according to the movement of the Spirit within the ¯ person. Which emphasis? This is where, in honesty, individuals must recognize a need in them-selves and choose one of these emphases. This does not mean that only people who think alike should form local communities, but that those who live together should have a common value-base on which community life may build. The types of support needed by individuals vary. It does not have to be the same in every living situation, but it has to exist in some form in each local community if community life is going to be something more than a glorified sorority or fraternity. Pluralism seems to be the angle from which life in active communities is being re-thought. The above suggestion is a form of pluralism in life-style. Yes, this will create tension. But does not tension already exist in the living of religious life--a tension which is not always growth producing? Religious cannot use the excuse of "obedience" as a reason for what does or does not happen in a religious congregation. Each one is responsible for the quality of life within the community, and cannot let others bear the burden of that responsibility without himself becoming involved. This is a danger, especially in large, congregation.s. There are many discontented religious, discontented in the sense of looking for something more in religious life, a challenge, a way of life that is more meaningful. Just being identified with a large institution is not meaningful or necessarily religious in the sense of living and/or proclaiming the gospel message effectively. This is not to suggest a way of life that is inbred, but rather a means of nurturing the spiritual life in a way that will help to make the apostolate more joyful and perhaps more fruitful. It is a way of giving a support, encouragement, and real Christian freedom cen-tered on the gospel and a communal experience of helping each other to grow into the fullness which is Christ. 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 To initiate this process, two or three people who feel comfortable with one another might come together and, after some time taken for reflection, answer the following questions: 1) Why (have I come) am I still in religious life? 2) In which area have I channeled my energy (or let it be channeled) over the last 3, 5, 10, 15 years (prayer, community, apostolate)? 3) What experiences in religious life have freed me to be who God wants me to be--before him, with my confreres, in my apostolate? 4) What has impeded my ability to respond to what I feel the Spirit has asked of me? 5) If I am really honest, what ~teps do I need to take in order to align my life more closely with gospel values? Sharing one's thoughts and feelings about these questions, or others in a similar vein, will begin to help the individual to see the direction God is leading him or her in a communal effort to deepen one's living out of religious life. This paper has only made a small dent in the problem; but, hopefully, some who read it will be creative in finding other ways to begin to act. I would be grateful to have some practical suggestions, ways of im-plementing what. has been suggested in these pages. Perhaps there could follow an article incorporating these practical suggestions at a later date. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism Bede Thomas Mudge, O.H.C. Father Mudge is novice master for his Anglican community, the Order of the Holy Cross. He resides in Holy Cross Monastery; West Park, NY 12493. The Protestant Reformers of the sixteenth century embarked on what they considered to be a radical "renewal" process on behalf of the Church, a process which is not without some parallels to the renewal of contemporary Christianity. Before their energy had spent itself, the Reformers called into qupstion nearly every important institution of European Christianity, and demanded searching, justification, and often, change or abolition. Any institution or custom that was judged to be valueless or hurtful from the point of view of reformed theology was thoroughly rooted out. Among the casualties of this rooting-out were the religious commu-nities. The reasons for their abolition were usually stated in theological or social categories, the most frequently quoted being an abhorrence of cel-ibacy as "unnatural," and a dislike of any lifelong vow other than that of marriage. But there were other, not quite so noble reasons, as well. Many of the religious communitieg were conservative and anything but welcom-ing to the "New Theology," and so served as centers of resistance to the Reformation. In addition, the great wealth of some of them was a scandal to the Reformers, and a temptation to the keepers of government coffers. In every territory where the Reformers' theology gained ascendancy, an intense campaign was launched against the monasteries and conventg, in which the State usually lent its coercive power to the Reformers' fervor. In a remarkably short time, the communities were disbanded, their members 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 dispersed, and monasticism as an institution ceased to exist in the Re-formed churches) But, alone of the Reformation bodies, Anglicanism never rested easy with the absence of religious orders in its structure. Almost from the time when the Reformation struggle began to quiet, there were voices raised in defense of the reestablishment of religious communities in England, and various public and private proposals were made and discussed. In the seventeenth century an extraordinary community experiment was actually begun by Nicholas Ferrar at LittleGidding, which has exercised a great fascination for Anglicans ever since. Nicholas, together with his extended family, established a quasi-monastic community in which a form of Office was observed that involved the recitation of the entire Psalter twice each day, and a vigorous social apostolate was maintained in the neighborhood. The community did not survive Nicholas' death, however, and suspicion, and anti-Roman prejudice, made it necessary for the reestablishment of traditional monastic com.munities in Anglicanism to wait until the mid-nineteenth century. Even then, religious communities were not established easily or without trials. Persecution, slander and occasional imprisonment rewarded those who dared to import "Romish" doctrines.or institutions into the Church of England, and many of the early experiments in com-munity life had quietness and obscurity forced on them as the price of their survival. But some of the founders did persevere, and eventually their communities grew, and even prospered. In the century and a quarter that have.passed since the reestablishment of religious comriiunities in Anglicanism, these communities have spread and become an accepted part of the Anglican Church scene. Though not numerous nor particularly large by Roman Catholic standards, the Anglican communities have nevertheless been influential, particularly in matters re-lating to the ~piritual life and to social concern. Though it is still not unusual to find people, both outside and inside the Anglican Church, who are only vaguely aware that "there are Episcopal nuns," the communities have gradually gained~ the trust and affection of their Church at large, and are now welcomed and encouraged, whereas at their inception, rejection and persecution were more normal reactions.2 The Spirituality of Anglicanism Any discussion of spirituality in Anglican .religious communities must necessarily take place in the context of the general spirituality of Angli-tThe sixteenth century was, to be sure, a period of low ebb in community life. Very few of the dispersed religious chose to flee to a Catholic territory where they could continue their life. They appear mostly to have settled down quietly, often supported by a government pension, and often they marred. The Carthusian martyrs of London were as remarkable for the rarity of their example, as for their fervor. 2An excellent historical summary of this'period, and histories of the foundations of the various communities can be found in Peter Anson, The Call of the Cloister, SPCK, 1956. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 507 canism. But, in turn, it would not be possible to speak of Anglican spir-ituality without speaking of monasticism, because Anglican piety, depends heavily on the pre-Reformation monastic influence in England, and par-ticularly that of the Benedictine communities. It has been said that Ben-edictinism influenced English society to a greater extent than was true anywhere else in Europe. England was converted, in large part, by Ben-edictine monks. Its principal schools were operated byBenedictines, its cathedrals and principal churches were largely Benedictine foundations, and Benedictines were widely influential in the government. The Cistercian reform of Benedictinism was also influential in England, and its monasteries large and popular) The influence of the Benedictine tradition was part of the air that every medieval English person breathed. From one's earliest years, through education and into whatever station in life a person be-longed, the influence of the Abbey or Priory was never far away. And this influence was nowhere more pervasive than in the piety of the English people.4 The monastic offices and masses were commonly attended by the public; monastic spirituality was respected; and abbot and monk were part of the common scene, and likely to be respected or even beloved. Though definite Augustinian and Franciscan strains can be discerned in historic Anglican devotion, the example and influence of the Benedictine mon-astery, with its rhythm of divine office and eucharist, the tradition of learn-ing and the lectio divina, and the family relationship among abbot and community were determinative for much English life, and for the pattern of English devotion. This devotional pattern persevered through the spiritual and theological upheavals of the Reformation. The Book of Common Prayer, which was composed during the course of the Reformation, and has been the primary spiritual source-book for Anglicans ever since, continued the basic mo-nastic pattern of the eucharist and the divine office as the principal public forms of worship, and Anglicanism has been unique in this respect. Con-tinental Catholicism developed a devotional pattern centered around the eucharist, with extra-liturgical devotions such as the rosary and benediction filling the needs of most laymen. The office was, in most places, considered the business of the clergy and religious, and since, in its full canonical form, it could only be recited in Latin, it tended to disappear from popular use, except in some of the forms of a "Little Office." Protestantism developed, in most places, a worship pattern that included .very infrequent celebrations of the eucharist, as it was a Reformation principal that the eucharist should. not be celebrated unless the congregation received communion, and most aCudously enough, the purely English communities, such as the Gilbertines, while they did exist, never attained anything like the popularity of the communities which observed the Benedictine Rule. 4This influence of monastic spirituality on Anglican devotion is fully discussed in Martin Thornton, English Spirituality, SPCK, 1963. 5011 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 laymen of the time could not be persuaded to receive frequently. The worship pattern that developed was either a truncated form of the mass, as in Lutheranism, or a more informal worship service, retaining some ele-ments of the office, and supplemented by meetings for free prayer. In England alone it was the divine office that came to occupy a central de-votional position. This development was a direct carry-over from the days in which many people had attended celebrations of the office at the local abbey or priory, particularly Lauds and Vespers. But it owed much of its success to the liturgical genius of Thomas Cranmer, who in his compilation of the offices of Morning Prayer and Evensong produced what Louis Bouyer has referred to as "one of the purest forms of Christian common prayer to be found anywhere in the world."5 The devotion of Anglicans to the office has continued up to the present time. In some parish churches, though admittedly not all by any means, the office is recitedmorning and evening each day, as the Book of Common Prayer has traditionally re-quired. In some places, it is still the principal service of worship on Sun-days, and when groups of Anglicans gather, whether clergy or lay, whether for worship, business or social purposes, it is not unusual to begin the gathering with the recitation of Morning or Evening Prayer.6 The framework supplied by eucharist and office was supplemented, in Anglicanism, by an informal sort of lectio divina, characterized by a de-votion to the reading and pondering of the scriptures and other dex, otional material. When English editions of the Bible first began appearing in parish churches it was often necessary to chain them to the wall or lectern, to prevent people from stealing them for their own use. Later, when the spread of the printing press made the scriptures more available, there was also an extraordinary development of spiritual writing by men such as Jeremy Taylor and William Law, characterized by biblical and patristic inspiration and warm human feeling, and these works were widely circu-lated and read. There is also a deep current of devotion to the writings of the Church Fathers in Anglicanism.It is an Anglican maxim that Anglicans refer to the Fathers in the same way that Roman Catholics refer to the Pope, and Protestants to the Bible. A large proportion of English editions of patristic writings has historically been the work of Anglican editors. There has also been found in traditional Anglican piety, a distinct strain of "homeliness," as it is sometidaes called. A warm, tolerant, human de-votion based on loving persuasion, rather than fiery oratory is part of the Anglican temper. Historically, the Anglican clergy, being family men them-selves, have been very much part of the domestic scene in the villages and 5Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety, Notre Dame, 1955, p. 47. 6This is somewhat less common at the present, as under the influence of liturgical r~form, more frequent celebrations of the eucharist are being held, and often supplant the office. But it is worth noting that many Anglicans, including those most eager to center worship around the eucharist, are still uneasy at the loss of the office as a popular form of devotion. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 51)9 parishes where they served, and have often been loved as well as revered. The Anglican liturgical calendar has more commemorations of faithful pas-tors, such as George Herbert, than of fiery missionaries, and even Anglican martyrs have commonly been of gentle disposition. Anglicanism has always been more attracted by the image of the Church as family, rather than militia, and the similarity evoked to a community of monks, living as a family, under an abbot who leads them as a father, is far from accidental. There is little extravagance in the English temper, and Anglican de-votion is usually characterized by a basic simplicity and directness that shun~ much of the emotionalism and the devotional frills of post-Refor-mation continental piety. In this, the English temper ~naturaily joins hands with the emphasis on biblical centrality that was a chief Reformation prin-ciple~ There is devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to the saints in Anglicanism, but it is most often drawn from a scriptural and patristic outlook, with an emphasis on simplicity and emotional understatement, and later devotions have had small appeal for Anglicans. Thus, the pattern of Anglican devotion which developed was a modified form of monastic piety; the celebration of the eucharist (though sometimes quite infrequently),7 the regular recitation of the Psalter and proclamation of the scriptures in the office, fleshed out by private pondering of the Bible, the Fathers and other devotional writings, usually of a sober and gentle style. The Restoration of Monasticism The founding of specifically monastic communities in the Church of England began in the middle of the nineteenth century, shortly after the commencement of the "Oxford Movement," whose proponents wished to restore elements of Catholic belief and worship to the Anglican Church. Several communities for women were founded in the 1850's and 1860's, after some faltering starts, and the first lasting community for men followed shortly thereafter. The first communities lived under the suspicious eyes of a public still steeped in anti:papalism, and so the beginnings were cautious and semi,private. Little publicity attended the foundings of the commu-nities, and the public stir raised by even a little publicity was considerable. Against this background, it is not surprising that the first communities went out of their way to justify their existence by a great devotion to works of charity. Social work with the poor, the operation of "penitentiaries" for wayward women, and nursing were favorite occupations, and among the nursing sisters that Florence Nightingale took with her in her famous mis-sion to the Crimea were several sisters of the newly-founded (Anglican) 71n the eighteenth century faith and devotion fell to a very low ebb, and it is related that there was no eucharist on Easter Day in St. Paul's Cathedral in London one year, because the Prayer Book requires that at least two or three members of the congregation receive communion, if there is to be a celebration, and that many communicants could not be found. 510 / Review for Religious,,Volume 37, 1978/4 Society of the Holy Trinity. The often heroic work accomplished by the first members of the communities in slums and with people in desperate con-ditions did much to allay suspicion, and to create an atmosphere of tol-erance for their existence, if not of actual devotion to them. But while the works of the early communities were important and needed, it was the spiritual and communal life which drew applicants, and in this atmosphere the basically monastic pattern of Anglican spirituality, which had survived three centuries after the Reformation, had its inevitable effect. No matter how active the apostolate of the community, thecor-porate recitation of a full form of the office was present in all of the com-munities from the very start,8as was the cultivation of a personal devotional life which was more characteristic of cloistered communities in Roman Catholicism. It is an unusual Anglican community which has not had as part of its tradition the singing of the office to the plainsong melodies, a good deal of corporate silence, and a tradition of the cultivation of an intense devotional life, based on scriptural and patristic sources. The traditional emphasis on monastic learning and writing also appeared, even in very active communities, and a sizeable number of works on prayer and spiritual direction have been produced, which is all the more remarkable considering the relatively small number of Anglican. religious. Nor is it unusual for Anglican laymen to expect that any member of any community will be able to speak about prayer and give spiritual direction. It should also be noted that, with no experience of monasticism closer than three hundred years, and with the traditional freedom of Anglicanism, some of the early experiments in the monastic life were distinctly unfor-tunate. Some were merely bizarre, such as in the excesses of Fr. Ignatius' Benedictines of Llanthony in Wales, .or the Benedictines of Caldey Island, who attempted to recreate a wildly romanticized version of a medieval abbey, but some were unwise in other ways. The combination of heavy and demanding work, coupled with the expectation of full participation in choir and in long hours of prayer with a sometimes rigorous asceticism taught several communities the lesson of moderation the hard way. But such mistakes were largely unavoidable. Few bishops would have anything to do with the developing communities, for fear of being labeled "Romanist," and the ecumenical movement was far in the future, so the only advice to be gained from Roman Catholic religious was: "convert!" Experienced guidance was simply unavailable. The lessons of the Desert Fathers and of medieval monasticism had to be learned again, by experiment, in nine-teenth century England. But in spite of mistakes and misjudgments, the monastic experiment in Anglicanism took root, prospered and spread. There are now a large num-ber of communities in England, and others in former English colonies, as SUsually an English translation of the Roman Breviary. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism well oaS indigenous communities in Africa, the Far East and the South Pacific. !n the American Episcopal Church there are approximately twenty communities, about two-thirds of them for women. With time came not only numerical growth, but also a gradual acceptance by the mainstream of the Church, and with this acceptance a freedom to adopt usages and customs to taste. But whereas it might have been expected that this freedom would lead to a divergence of types of religious life, the pattern has, in fact, remained surprisingly consistent and true to traditional mo-nastic roots. Anglicanism has not, to this time at least, developed "active" com-munities, and the expressions of the religious life that presently attract the largest numbers in the Roman Catholic Church are completely absent from the Anglican scene. There arena few cloistered orders for men and for women, but the majority of the communities are classified as "mixed" in the traditional terminology. All have a tradition of a corporate Office, often an English translation of the Benedictine breviary, and the office is com-monly sung to plainsong where the numbers permit it.9 All have a deep commitment to the life of prayer, and have developed timetables and physical surroundings that enabled them to foster this prayer. A family style of government usually prevails, with a superior who is elected by all of the professed members, and a chapter that usually consists of all of the mem-bers of the community. This has been possible because of the small size of most of the communities. Anglican communities have never grown in num-bers beYond about four to five hundred, and the vast majority have had less than fifty professed at any one time. The family ethos has been carried over into the apostolate of the community, which has nearly always been carried out in a community context, and rarely by individuals outside the com-munity. But a wide latitude has usually been available inside the family context, with individuals often encouraged to develop their own talents and abilities. It may be objected that the absence of the figure of the abbot or abbess would make it difficult to classify a community as "Benedictine." Most Anglican communities do, in fact, have a regularly elected "superior," with a limited term of office, and not much of the mystique of abb, atial dignity. The Anglican. communities would, admittedly, need to be classified as a hybrid form of Benedictinism on this a~count. But it is also true that ~he size ¯ of most Anglican communities, together~ with their traditional family ethos, have conspired to make the superior much more of a "mother" or "father" than an executive. We can also note that a limited term of office is more and more characteristic even of abbots in the Roman Catholic communities 9It is sometimes surprising to Roman Catholics how few may be "required." If they have good voices (and sometimes if they don't) a house composed of three or four Anglican religious will sombtimes maintain a full sung office. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 these days. The title of Anglican superiors has usually not been "abbot," but the reality is often not far removed from the traditional abba. The pattern of community life that has been described has had one development that came as a surprise to many of the early religious, and runs counter to the .historical development of western monasticism. The first religious in the west were contemplatives, with active communities de-veloping only later. In Anglicanism, the first communities were forced to be active in order to justify themselves, but always maintained as much touch with the monastic tradition as circumstances allowed. With such an im-petus, some of the religious quickly developed contemplative vocations, and the communities eventually responded by making room in their struc-ture for living ,such ,vocations, after suitable testing. More than this, several entire omr~nities have gradually been called to an exclusively contem-plative vo.cation after° a very active beginning. The Society of the Holy Trinity, ".the Sisters of the Precious Blood, and the Community of the Holy Cross, all .English women'.s communities, had very active beginnings, with demanding social apostolates, and all have given up most of their external works and become .contemplative communities. Side by side with this de-velopment, there have been several attempts through the yeffrs to establish traditionally "Benedictine" ,communities, properly so-called, and several of these attempts have been successful. There are, of course, exceptions to the pattern outlined, as for instance, the sizeable Society of St. Francis, and the Community of the Glorious Ascens!on, which is based on a model roughly similar to the Little Brothers of Jesus. But these are more recent developments, and have necessarily .bee6 ch~ aracterized by a certain self-.consciousness about their ethos, which has, served as a battlement against the tides that have swept most Anglican religious communities into a remark.ably similar pattern and style. Cow,temporary Renewal It is obvious from this analysis that the history of religious life in the ~.n.glican Church has several marked differences to that in the Roman C,a.tholic communion. Anglican com~.unities are of relatively recent date, .and many of them have older members who are within memory, or at least within one gbneration, of their foundin, g. Having often begun on an active pattern, the communities have grad~a,!!y developed a more traditionally monastic life, and this has been done as .the result of a consensus of the members 9f the community. The offiC.~'~ habit, times of silence and such, have been deliberately chosen, often against a background of some per- .secution. This necessarily means that'ii~e pattern of renewal in Anglican communities has been quite different from most Roman Catholic com-munities. Since Anglican communities are reasonab.ly close, historically, to the decisions that formed the pattern of their. !ife, and since these decisions Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 513 have usually been made by consensus of the community, there has been little reason to view the details of their lives as imposed by an outside authority. In addition, the religious orders have never been seen as a pri-mary source of personnel for social or missionary work. Anyone whose real calling is to a social ministry or a missionary vocation has always had many other options in the Anglican framework, and few people have entered the communities without some leaning, at least, toward monastic observances. This has caused the outward forms of .the recent renewal to appear con-servative by Roman Catholic standards. Though members of the men's communities have, on occasion, worn secular clothing for some years, all of them retain their habit at least for corporate worship and for formal occasions. Among the women's communities habits have usually been modified only slightly, if at all, and the number of women religious who regularly wear secular dress is very small. The office continues to be said by all communities, and if four offices a day rather than seven o~' eight is becoming a common pattern, they are often quite traditional in form, and continue to be sung to plainsong. A wider variety of work or ministry is often now available, but many of the traditional works continue, and some of the communities are moving, if anything, in a more contemplative di-rection. Anglican religious have, for the most part, deliberately chosen the observances of traditional monasticism, and are not eager to be rid of them. But it would be a mistake to assume, since renewal has not changed Anglican communities much externally, that their reform has been shallow. In many communities there has been a deep and searching process of change in the spirit that lay behind the observances. This has occurred, not surprisingly, in a direction dictated by the tradition that lies behind most Anglican communities. The. urge towards deeper and more authentic prayer has already been alluded to. There has also been a movement toward the deepening of the "family" ethos which has always been the ideal. Various structures of behavior, largely from the Victorian era (when many of our communities were founded) have been laid aside, and an emphasis on human relationships, the possibility of deep friendships, and an increasing emphasis on government by consensus have been common. Above all, there has been a struggle to advance the priority of the human element over legalistic requirement. In addition, Anglican communities have often been the centers of creative change in the liturgical field as well, and, while their experiments may seem somewhat conservative in comparison to similar situations in Roman Catholic communities, they have not infrequently been quite advanced by the standards of an ordinary Anglican or Episcopal parish. There has been at least one additional change in the past decades that is more difficult to chart or document, but it is of great importance to Anglican religious. A growing sense of'confidence in their own identity has gradually made itself felt. Born without parents, so to speak, Anglican 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 communities had to develop with little outside advice and no Anglican tradition to guide them, and all of this in an era when "doing it right" was very important. Anglican~ engaged in the founding of religious communities were surrounded by fellow Anglicans, on the one side, screaming "heresy," and by Roman Catholics, on the other, accusing them of being inauthentic imitations of no consequence; and the accusations were some-times, at least, half believed. This caused the adoption of many curious and sometimes inauthentic customs because "the Romans are doing it." But a century and a quarter of maturing, and the recent currents of change have brought relief from the concept that there was only one way to be correctly religious. A feeling of solidity and authenticity is beginning to pervade Anglican communities, where before there was some glancing over the shoulder to see if we were still doing it correctly. The history of religious communities in Anglicanism has been different from Roman Catholic com-munities; their problems have been different, and so the course of their renewal has been different, as will be their future form. Anglican com-munities have been called by God to serve a Church which is characterized by conservative liturgies, a deep sense of the awe and mystery of worship, and great freedom in doctrinal and social matters. The communities reflect this pattern, as they must, if they are to be authentic servants in the An-glican communion. "You're Benedictine, of course" Not infrequently these days, Anglican religious are invited to meetings of Roman Catholic religious, and often asked to describe their community. Normally the reply is that there is no exact counterpart to our life in the Roman Catholic Church, but that we have found our own expression of the religious life. But when asked to describe that expression in detail, it is interesting to note how often the reply is: "Oh, you're Benedictine, of course." Though only a few of our communities have sought to identify themselves as Benedictines or even tried consciously to imitate a Bene-dictine pattern, this reaction can hardly be a surprise. From their inception, Anglican communities have operated under the influence of a devotional pattern that took its'inspiration from Benedictine and Cistercian ab-beysmthe pattern of a family, deeply united by prayer and the liturgy, pondering the scriptures and other writings, and overflowing from its de-votional life in a gentle, caring ministry to those around them. It is a pattern that has been inherited fi:om a nation whose monks, scholars, teachers, historians, rulers, missionaries and martyrs were often either Benedictines themselves or under direct Benedictine influence, and the pattern has proved surprisingly stable, through the changes and reforms of several generations:' The pattern which Pope Gregory the Great hoped to plant in England when, in the seventh century, he sent. Augustine to Canterbury to convert the English people still perseveres, not only in England, but in large Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 515 parts of the world. And this pattern, to which the name "Benedictine" is often given, has proved sturdy enough that it served as the model and guide for religious life when it was revived after three hundred years of absence in Anglicanism. Reeds The wind is voiceless until it finds an instrument: the long-drawn sough and sigh of conifers the maples" glee the oaks" deep diapason untutored symphony. I stood apart to hear them all together: acaccia sprinkled bells upon the air and chaliced elms' glad notes all spilling exultant as the skylark's trilling The beech clapped drily cadence keeping Only my song was still. The Spirit came in wind, then, (I had long known .the fire fed by the oils of my anointing) I listened there upon the hillside: "'Peace," said the wind upon me Peace unto all whom I meet "Peace," and the winds grew quiet "Peace! I am with you-- Know my peace." Mary R. Quinn 1201 Canton Ave. Baltimore, MD 21227 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today M. Corita Clarke, R.D.C. Sister Corita, a Sister of the Divine Compassion, is Chairperson of the Religious Studies Department of Preston High School. She resides at the school; 2780 Schurz Ave.; Bronx, NY ! 0465. ~nterest, concern, even fascination for the quest for a viable personal spirituality is as old as the history of primitive religions and as contem-porary as today's newspaper. To some persons the renewed interest in spirituality in this decade of the twentieth century seems an anachronism or a fad. Yet even a cursory study of the experience of people today, whether viewed through the eyes of the historian, the psychologist or the theologian, indicates that the phenomenon of such a renewal is a very natural devel-opment. Both an older generation which has survived the effects of worldwide wars, nuclear holocausts, genocide attempts and concentration camp realities, and a younger generation which has grown up in the more affluent yet tension-ridden, de-personalized milieu of the computerized world of technopolis, are responding to their deepest human yearnings in their search for a spiritual dimension to their lives. Centuries ago St. Augustine shared the insight that "God is always more." I think that the conviction born of human experience and the Judaeo-Christian revelation is that "so is man, always more," called to become, to grow, to move beyond wherever he is, to realize his human potential--also for intimacy with the divine! Spirituality is concerned with this search for the transcendent dimension to life both beyond and within the person, and with the mode of living which flows from its apprehension. We have the capacity ~to live a "spiritual" life because as human persons we possess an inner spirit which is the principle of our conscious life and 516 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 517 the source of our integration as persons. Through this spirit we are capable of an intuition of the transcendent, of a reflective awareness of ourselves and of a depth dimension within ourselves, and are conscious of our ability for self-transcendence. In our Christian experience spirituality flows from an awareness of the Spirit of God within us, and our spiritual life is a lived response to this Spirit within, in an attempt to facilitate or mediate the further presence of that Spirit of God in the world. It is my conviction that the basis for a relevant Christian spirituality for today is to be found in a clear understanding of the quality of compassion. It will be within the scope of this paper to look at compassion from various angles in order to see the richness contained in this human virtue and to realize more clearly its relation to our experience of transcendence and our challenge to live our spirituality as compassionate persons. The Experience of Transcendence Any attempt to elaborate a contemporary spirituality comes up against the enduring tension between transcendence and immanence, between that which calls us beyond and that which cries out for recognition in the here and now. I would like first to strive for a greater clarity in our understanding of the category of the transcendent, and then proceed to an analysis of compassion as providing the key to reconciling these seeming antinomies. James Fowler has defined faith as "the knowing or construing by which persons apprehend themselves as related to the Transcendent.''~ For Fowler, the Transcendent is the ultimate condition of existence, the Being we have in religious faith called God, and a person's relationship to the Transcendent involves power, limitations, and the sources of value and meaning of existence. In the Judaeo-Christian religious tradition this has involved a personal relationship to a God whose presence has been ex-perienced by individuals and by the community. In addition to this specific religious terminology, the adjective transcendent and the noun transcen-dence have wide usage in a more secular sense. Abraham Maslow has given thirty five definitions or explanations of transcendence which can be sum-marized in his statement that transcendence."refers to the very highest and most inclusive or holistic levels of human consciousness, behaving and relating, as ends rather than as means, to oneself, to significant others, to human beings in general, to other species, to nature, and to the cosmos.''z And even here, in those who can experience such full humanness, those whom Maslow calls "transcenders," there is the "ability to perceive the ~James W. Fowler III, "Toward A Developmental Perspective on Faith," Religious Ed-ucation, LXIX (March-April, 1974), p. 207. ZAbraham Maslow, The Farther Reaches of Human Nature (New York, Viking Press, 1971), p. 275. 511~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 sacred within the secular, or the sacredness in all things at the same time, ,,3 Within this notion of transcendence are all those movements, experiences or realities which beckon persons on, which disturb complacency and call us beyond, which alert us to the "more" in human life and our own personal existence, which sociologist Peter Berger has called "hints" or "signals" of the Transcendent,4 and which are the source of~Augustine's "restless-ness" of heart. When the noun transcendence becomes converted to a verb, we have also the notion of self-transcendence, that movement of a person beyond self-interest or concern because of a focus on another~person, an ideal or a goal. In its richest manifestations, self-transcendence is an act of love, the highest form of human activity. Viktor Frankl has written that "Human existence is essentially self-transcendence not self-actualization,''s and contemporary psychology b~ars witness to this capacity for self-sacrifice as an essential norm of full human maturity. We will return to this aspect of self-transcendence in our treatment of compassion. When a person becomes aware of the transcendent dimension of life, and especially when that awareness leads to the Transcendent God, the result is, in the words of Abraham Heschel, awe. Awe is a sense for the transcendence, for the reference everywhere to mystery beyond all things. It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infiniti~ significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.6 For Heschel, faith is, as it is for Fowler, an attachment to the Trans-cendent, to the attractiveness of a God Who hides himself in mystery. Yet ¯ the biblical revelation tells us that beyond all mystery is meaning. "God is neither plain meaning nor just mystery. God is meaning that transcends mystery . meaning that speaks through mystery.''7 When the God who is, by the very nature of his being, Transcendent, attempts to speak through mystery and reaches out into the realm of human experience, we speak of tiis becoming immanent to us, to his creation. How does this mystery express itself?. Heschel says it is the destiny of human persons "to articulate what is concealed. The divine seeks to be disclosed in the human."s In our discussion of spirituality we have stated that our spirituality flows aIbid., p. 283. 4Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York, Doubleday, 1969). ~Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, Washington Square Press, 1963), p. 175. 6Abraham J. Heschel, Who Is Man? (Stanford, California, Stanford University Press, 1969), p. 89. 71bid., p. 77. 6Ibid., p. 77. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 519 from our apprehension of the divine, of the Spirit within and 'without, and is our mode of living which attempts to incarnate the presence of God. It is precisely in this understanding of God which we discern from the biblical revelation, and in the consequent imperatives for our Christian life, that I believe an understanding of compassion plays such a central role. It is my conviction that the divine (the Transcendent) has revealed itself as com-passion, and that therefore the human discloses the divine through a spirituality that is founded on compassion. While subsequently I will de-lineate our experience and exercise of compassion as an expression of spirituality, I would like first to examine compassion as formative of our spirituality through an analysis of the divine compassion. Human com-passion and divine compassion are not dichotomies nor polarities, they are rather reciprocal concepts. There is only one real source of compassion and that is God's compassion. As Henri Nouwen has reminded us, "Our com-passion is nothing more or less than a participation in and a reflection of this divine compassion,''9 The Divine Compassion: The Bridge In his penetrating study, The Prophets,1° Abraham Heschel analyzes with depth and clarity the Old Testament revelation of the divine pathos, which he sees as the bridge between the transcendence and mystery of God and Israel's grasp of his love. For the Israelite, pathos is the expression of the attitude of attentive care and concern of God for his people. When Moses asked Yahweh his name, he received the reply, 'Yahweh, Yahweh, a God of tenderness and compassion" (Ex 34:5-6). In a recent issue of Spiritual Life, Kevin O'Shea suggests "that the divine nature is Com-passion, that God is to be defined by the heart of tenderness he has opened out tb us."11 This portrayal of Israel's God as a God of Pathos (the opposite - of apathy) is in sharp contrast to the gods of other nations of their t!me, who were distant (like the god of the philosophers), or impersonal, or presented as having human limitations such as jealousy and vindictiveness. The ex-pression of Yahweh's compassion was not mere feeling or emotion on the part of God, but was displayed in his active reaching out toward Israel--a God "in search of man.''~ The initial experience of Yahweh's concern was the covenant, which not only manifested God's mercy and great love, but also challenged Israel to grow as God's people through her response to his love. When Israel faltered or failed in her fidelity, the divine pathos re-vealed itself in anger and correction. In Heschel's words, God's "pathos is 9Henri Nouwen, "Compassion: The Core of Spiritual Leadership," Worship Jubilee (January, 1977), p. 21. 10Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (Vol. II) (New York, Harper & Row, 1975). nKevin O'Shea, C.SS.R., "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Life, 21 (Spring, 1975), p. 18. 590 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 both a disclosure of his concern and a concealment of his power."12 The mission of the prophet in Israel was to articulate the nature and extent of the divine pathos, and to call the people to live the reality of their election. It was through his privileged insight into the experience of the pathos of God that the prophet developed his sympathy.(sym-pathos) for the concern of God. Seized by the power of this revelation, he was com-pelled to speak Yahweh's wrrd. Though his sympathy had as its source and focus the divine pathos, it was like that of Yahweh's, directed towards the people, the object of Yahweh's love. As Yahweh had identified himself with Israel (e.g., "My people," what was done to Israel was done to "Us"), so the prophet identified himself with the people, and each, from Moses to the last prophet, lived his vocation within the limitations and struggles of his time and history. God's involvement with Israel can be found on every page of the prophetic works. As with Jeremiah they experienced his word as a burning fire within, ~ind usually endured great personal suffering to deliver what was often an unpopular message. The hardheartedness of Israel is in sharp contrast to the loving relationship God was offering them: You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth and summoned from its far-off places, You whom I have called my servant whom I have chosen and will not cast off-- Fear not, I am with you; be not dismayed; I am your God. I will strengthen you, and help you, and uphold you with my right hand of justice (Is 41:9-10). In return, Yahweh asked a response of love; a love which when directed toward him would be fidelity and when shared with one another would flow out injustice. Micah encapsuled the covenant call in the beautiful text from 6:8: This is what Yahweh asks of you: to act justly to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God, The psalmist who sang over and over that Yahweh's compassion and mercy endure forever, the prophet who spoke for Yahweh, "with ever-lasting love I will have compassion on you, says the Lord, your Redeemer" (Is 54:8), and Abraham Heschel who insists that the biblical message is not an abstraction but the "certainty that the Creator is the Redeemer"~3--all point to a reality which can only be understood in its fullness by one who has come to know Jesus. The pathos of God gave its utmost expression of love and concern in the incarnation and redemption of Jesus. Jesus comes as compassion incarnate, ~2Heschel, The Prophets, Vol. II, p. 12. ~albid., p. 47. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 52"1 as the prophet who not only fully apprehended the divine pathos, but is himself its visible embodiment. "God in search of man" becomes man himself and bridges .the gulf between transcendent mystery and human experience. Jesus, like the prophetic types before him, embraces the reality and consequences of being truly human. As Paul records in the early Chris-tian hymn: He emptied himself and took the form of a slave being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediently accepting even death, death on a cross! (Ph 2:7-8). Against the background of old Testament prophecy, Jesus is presented in the New Testament as the Prophet, one caught up in the message he has received from the Father, as he reiterates frequently in the Johannine tradition. His life is a lived experience of the reality of his perception of the Father's love. God's concern and love are his own, and he lives the im-plications of his message to their ultimate consequences. Jesus expresses his mission in the vision of the Isaian prophecy: He has come for the poor, the captives,, the blind and the.downtrodden, to proclaim the good news of the Father's love'(Lk 4:18; Is 61:1-2). He teaches his followers how to love one another (Jn 14:34-5), to be compassionate as their Father is compassionate (Lk 6:36-38), and gives concrete examples in his parables: the forgiving father of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32), and the compassionate Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). He chal-lenges them to the self-transcendence involved in taking up one's cross daily (Lk 9:23-25), and gives them the witness of his own loving response to all whom he encounters along the way. He eats with sinners, embraces little children, weeps over Jerusalem, and identifies with the feelings and needs of the sick, the bereaved, the hungry, the repentant. His ministry is one of healing, forgiving, challenging, and total self-giving, and he suffers and dies for the truth of his message. In the life-giving power of his death and resurrection, the compassion of God has its supreme expression. In contrast to Rudolph Bultmann, who sees the Cross of Jesus as a stumbling block of Christianity, a contemporary Anglican writer, Alistar Kee, sees it as the most meaningful challenge to the Church today in its role to embody the life of Jesus in our time. Kee opts for a reinterpretation of Christian theology which would focus on J~sus as "the way of trans-cendence, in contrast to the way of immanence which characterizes the lives of individuals.''14 He believes that Jesus' total self-transcendence in his acceptance of the cross provides persons today with a powerful example ~4Alistar Kee, The Way of Transcendence (England, Penguin, 1971), p. 159. 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 which is "a consistent option" for human life, and which in reality is the only road to fulfillment. A Theology of Compassion Among the New Testament writers, perhaps none has presented this centrality of the cross to the Christian message more clearly than St. Paul, who saw his vocation to "preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). The cross for Paul was the. basic paradox of Christianity, and I think his compre-hension of its meaning both in the life of Jesus and in his own life formed the foundation for his theology of compassion. Paul personally experienced the compassion of God in his call from Judaism to preach the gospel of Jesus. "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, because I persecuted the Church of God, I do not even deserve the name. But by God's favor I am what I am. This favor of his to me has not proved fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). In his missionary work and sufferings, he was aware of the Lord's constant support and love. His mission and his letters to the Corinthian church are among the clearest loci for elucidating his theology. It would take many pages to elaborate on Paul's experiences and his teaching, but perhaps a brief outline will be sufficient. Like the prophets before him, Paul was captured' by the Word of the Lord. He became aware of God's mercy and love for him, and desired to share this love and this message with others to whom he was sent. Preach-ing the gospel was often surrounded With sufferings of all kinds, yet Paul could testify: He comforts us in all our afflictions and thus enables us to comfort those who are in trouble with the same con-solation we have received from hiha. As we have shared much in the suffering of Christ, so through Christ do we share abundantly in his consolation (2 Co 1:4-5). Paul, like Jesus and the prophets before him, identified with the people to whom he ministered, and this identification was chiefly in their weakness and sinfulness, where the presence and power of God was most clearly evident. For Paul, this power of God was revealed uniquely in the death and resurrection of Jesus (1 Co 1:18~25). For the Ch.ristian, the death of Jesus has become the source of life--weakness has triumphed in God. Christ ". was crucified out of weakness, but he lives by the power of God. We too are weak in him, but we live with him by God's power in us" (2 Co 13:4). This conviction that it is in the experience of weakness that he meets the compassionate Lord, is also expressed by Paul in one of the rare glimpses he gives us into his personal prayer. After three times begging the Lord to remove a source of temptation, he received the response, "My Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 593 grace is enough for you, for in weakness, power reaches perfection." Paul concluded, "And so I willingly boast of my weakness instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Co 12:9), ". for when I am .powerless it is then that I am strong" (12:10). The outgrowth of Paul's experience of God's love and grace is a powerful sense of gratitude. "We seem to have nothing, yet everything is ours" (2 Co 6:10). This sense of being gifted by God is the foundation not only of thankfulness to God, but also the basis for the kind of love for one another that Paul believed should characterize the Chris.tian community. Among all the Lord's gifts, none is as important as love, which is a gift of divine power. In Paul's famous description of Christian love in 1 Corinthians 13 we have the supreme challenge to respond to God's love. This agape which involves such geotleness, forbearance and selflessness can only come from one who has come to terms with his own weakness and his strengthening through God's love for him. It is the bond uniting the ¯ community and it results in a shared compassion: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (1 Co 12:26). Compassion for Paul seems to involve first a participation in the death dimension of Jesus' life by experiencing his own finitude and limitation. Then through faith in Jesus and baptism 'into his death, Paul shares in the life-giving power of God, acting in him as it did in the resurrection of Jesus. To the Christians of Rome Paul sent the powerful reminder: Are you not aware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Through baptism into his death~ we were buried with him, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life (Rm 6:3-4). Speaking of his ministry Paul writes to the Corinthians: This treasure we possess in earthen vessels to make it clear that its sur-passing power comes from God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destro.y. Con-tinually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus" sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh (2 Co 4:7-11). 594 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This experience of the divine compassion is in turn the source of Paul's love and understanding of others in their weakness, and of his urging them to share their love with one another. This mutual living in love is the strength of the community which fulfills Paul's exhortation to compas-sionate living: "Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep" (Rm 12:15). With the background of this brief survey of the pathos of God, the divine compassion revealed in Jesus, and Paul's experience and teaching of the centrality of the Paschal Mystery in Christian life, we possess a foundation for the thesis that Christian theology is essentially a theglogy of compas-sion. If the biblical revelation which underlies our Christian faith is of a Transcendent God who bridges the infinite gulf between himself and us by the reality of his divine pathos, then our challenge in contemporary Chris-tianity is to discover ourselves not only as recipients of his compassionate love, but also as called to incarnate that love in our world through living a spirituality of compassion. A Description of Compassion Before discussing some implications for spirituality based on compas-sion, I would like to refine our understanding of the attitude of compassion and consider some valuable insights from a variety of sources and disci-plines. The richness contained in this concept, and its essential role in human relationships can only be touched on in a paper such as this, but hopefully, it will open up further areas for reflection and development. In its Latin derivation compassion literally means "to suffer with" (compatior). We have seen in the scriptural usage that it always implies some form of identification with human suffering. When speaking of God's compassion, the term often used was "mercy," from the Latin, miseri-cordia. Mercy denotes tenderness of heart, felt and expressed toward an-other, but at times its usage implies an attitude of condescension expressed toward an offender or one suffering disfavor or misfortune. In this sense it is closer to pity. When mercy flows from a loving heart which recognizes and identifies with the feeling and experience of the other, and promotes an appropriate response, it is closer to compassion. For Thomas Aquinas, God's mercy was known by its effects, and flowed from his goodness and love: To sorrow over the misery of others belongs not to God; but it does most properly belong to him to dispel that misery, whatever be the defect we call by that name. Now defects are not removed except by the perfection of some kind of goodness: and the primary source of goodness is God.~ ~Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Vol. I (New York, Benziger, 1947), q. 21, a. 3. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 525 God's mercy, which has been called his supreme attribute, is never mere feeling, but always manifests itself in action. The New Testament abounds with examples of how Jesus, when moved with compassion, healed (the blind, the leper, the sick who approached him), forgave (the paralytic, the woman at Simon's house, the soldiers at the foot of the cross), or restored life (the widow's son, the brother of Martha and Mary). In an analogous way, human mercy is not measured by feeling but by concrete proofs, and when this expression of mercy flows from a sense of solidarity with the one who suffers, it is what we call compassion. As Rahner has written, "He who shows mercy receives more than he gives--the clear vision of his own emptiness which alone prevents him from losing the fullness he has re-ceived.''~ 6 Such an attitude preserves mercy from the taint of condescen-sion, and is a recognition of the Pauline theme that it is only in our aware-ness of our own weakness that we can experience God's power and be empowered to be a source of strength for others. The universality of this call to compassion can be seen by an awareness of its importance in many religious traditions in addition to the Judaeo- Christian revelation. A prime example of this is found in Buddhism where compassion is regarded as the highest virtue and is complementary to.the gift of wisdom. The Buddha had discovered the cosmic norm of truth through his attainment of wisdom (Pann6), and it was his primary desire to share this wisdom with those still enmeshed in the world of suffering. This compassion (Karuni~) was an outgrowth of his own contemplation, and hence, Buddha is designated a contemplative in action~ne whose self-enlightenment resulted in good for others. His compassion prevented his wisdom from being mere detached speculation, and his wisdom kept com-passion from being mere sentiment. Buddhism today (e.g., Mahay~tna Bud-dhism) continues this emphasis on the need to effect a liberation for men and women of our time. Because of our common destiny, compassion is viewed as the greatest reality. It is not achieved without great personal detachment, and thus involves the same renouncement and other-center-edness we have spoken of in connection with Jesus and the Christian's participation in the Paschal Myster

Issue 35.1 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; Review ]or Rehg~ous ~s edited by faculty members of the School of Dwmlty of St Lores Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding. 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute: St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1976 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders shot, ld indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review /or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should inclt, de former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read, Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January 1976 Volume 35 Number 1 Renew',ds, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for .answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl- ¯ vania 19131. Review for Religious Volume 35, 1976 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read, Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant EditOr Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May~ July, September, 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 edi-tion of Review 1or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1976 by Review ]or Religious. What Does. the New Expect of the Priest? Ritual of Penance Rev. V. Joseph Finnerty Father Finnerty teaches theology at Cathedral College of tl~ Immaculate Conception, the college seminary for ~the dioceses of Brooklyn, New York and Rockville Center. The seminary is located at 7200 Douglaston Pkwy.; Douglast0n, NY 11362. The problem with the sacrament of Penance is not about to be solved merely by external ritual changes. A new liturgical book though critical and long overdue is not an instant panacea for this problem. What is needed is a change of mind and attitude on different levels because the problem of Penance has many dimensions. Many topics sliould be dis-cussed prior to the prorriulgation of the new rite especially: a definition of sin, an understanding of conscience vs. superego, a rediscovery of the virtue of Penance, an emphasis on the e~:clesial aspect of the sacrament, a per-s0nalization of the ritual, an honest evaluation of devotional confession, a study of thi~ forgiveness present in the Eucharist, a look at the~ relationship between Penance and baptism. Most important of 'all is the change of atti-tude asked of the minister of the sacrament. What the Ordo requests of the priest-confessor is more demanding than any of the recent reforms relating to other sacraments. The Ministry of Jesus Let us look first at the ministry of Jesus since it is paradigmatic for our own. Scripture reminds us that a work of the Spirit is the shaping of a prophet. Jesus is that proph,et~ announcing a word of reconciliation, but He does not begin without first having received the Spirit's anointing. His first sermon began with the Isaian theme: The Spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring good news to the poor . (Lk 4, 18) 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 The Lord's preaching was not especially intellectual: the Father loves us; men are brothers; the kingdom is at hand; life continues. It is not so much what Jesus said but what He did that is significant for us priests. He con-stantly reaches out to the riffraff. With scandalous ease Jesus is at home with a publican, a tax-col'lector, a prostitute. Jesus is a friend of sinners. That's the message. The message so upset the Pharisees that they wanted Him dead. It is hard to imagine anything that would be more offensive to the religious leaders of Jesus's day than to have meal fellowship with the riffraff who were considered beyond the pale. Yet this is what Jesus did. He risked being ostrasized, alienated or contaminated so that He could eat with sinners and minister to them. He did all of this joyfully? ~ Christianity is a-sinner's religion. He was given the name Jesus because He would save men from their sins (Mt 1:21). When John saw Him, he cried that here is the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world. Jesus gave His life so that men's sins might be forgiven. Before He died He took bread and wine, proclaimed these to be His body and blood, broken and poured out for the forgiveness of sins. The mystery of forgiveness of sins stands at the very center of the Christian kerygma as the sign of the king-dom. Do~es not the great prayer of the kingdom unite these two concepts "Thy kingdom come" and "forgive us our trespasses"? Simply put, if we priests fail in our celebration of the mystery of forgiveness, we fail at what stands at the center of the Christian message. The Minister as "Healer" " One of the first things to be said about the minister of reconciliation is that the model of priest as judge is inadequate. For too long Penance has been dominated by one image, that of the courtroom, with a judge and a defendant. The sinner accused himself, listed number and species, pleaded guilty, and. requested a pardon from the judge. The Ordo Paenitentiae is dis-satisfied with the image of priest as an examining magistrate. The priest is not primarily a judge who sits in judgment about another's misadventures. The dynamics of the courtroom offer a poor example of what Jesus did. The pries[ is a judge, but he is more than that. He is a physician who exercises a ministry of healing. It is not those who are well.who need the doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the virtuous but the sinner. (Lk 5:31-32) The Rite of Penance refers to sin as sickness and the sacrament as a healing ministry more than twenty times; it uses the image of judgment only twice. The image_of "Physician of Souls" has a long tradition in Scripture, in early Christian sources, and qspecially in the liturgies of the Eastern Churches. 1Joachim Jeremias, Rediscovering the Parables (New York: Charles Scribner, 1966) p. 97. New Ritual o[ Penance ahd the Priest / 5 The theology of forgiveness contained in the ritual is a challenging one. There is no one-sided emphasis on the sacrament working ex opere operato; no top,heavy statement on priestly power; certainly n,o min!st~y that can be exercised in a mechanical or perfunctory manner. First of all the setting for this healing ministry is less formal and more personal; No reference is made to the "confessional," the ritual speaks only of the place for the sacrament (~12) which national bodies of bishops are asked to define even more precisely (~38). It is not the purpose of the ritual to deny people their right to anonymity in the confessional dialogue. It is wrong to insist that people only experience the ministry of priestly reconciliation in a face to face situation. Pastors and liturgical experts must prepare creative sacred space for the sacrament in sucha way that it re-spects the option of being seen or unseen by the confessor. We must meet our people where they are, but God help us if we do not bring them any further. A thoroughg6ing personal exchange in the sacrament of Penance is x~hat is called for. The directive which says, "the priest welcomes him (the penitent) warmly and gr~eets him with kindness" (~41) reminds~ us of the para~bles of Luke where Jesus teachi~s that God takes 'the initiative. Metanoia, comes from the penitent's heart, but, it is first of all a response to the overture of the father's loving kindness. He searches out the sinners; he looks for us. One warning! This is a friendly greeting, not a slap on the back. The dynamics of this ritual are not those needed to get class reunions off to a gQod start. The celebrant of Penance must not hesitate to be him-self but he must not communicate only himself he must'communicate the Holy One of God. The minister of healing must not act as though he has nbt experienced healing in his own life. He must know that he himself is a man forgiven. He cannot announce Church doctrine in a cavalier (take it or leave it) atti-tude. He never loses respect for the penitent while not condoning his sin.ful actions. A year ago an article.in L'Osservatore Romano highlighted this healing work of the priest: ¯ . . no sacrament involves the personal action of the minister so much as the sacrament of confession. The believer seeks a minister who will devote time to him; he seeks a patient man who will listen to him and believe him; he seeks a charitable man who will not pour salt but balm on'his wounds. He seeks a wise man who will not place on his shoulders burdens that he cannot carry; he seeks a serious and experienced man who will understand and then apply the yardstick of the Lord of conscience. He seeks a prudent~ ,discreet man, who will not delve where it is not necessary, who will teach where he is certain and will ask only for an upright conscience in cases, where the com-plexity of life makes it impossible to give a peremptory definition of obliga-tions and solutions . It is not unusual to hear the complaints of penitents whose feelings have been hurt in the very act of seeking Christ through the painful and dignified accusation of their sins . A not unusual complaint, 6 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 due--let us be clear--not to criminal or juridically blameworthy behaviour on the part of the confessor, but to acts of carelessness, impatience, arbitrari-ness, and sometimes--to be frank---~f t~ndue and incomprehensible pressure of one man on another, in the most sacred realm of conscience. Is it not too much to ask every priest, who is a minister of forgiveness about his usual attitude to the ministry of the confessional? Does he devote to it, joyfully or at least patientlyi all the time it requires? Does .he receive every penitent with Christ's mercy, without discrimination? Is he prepared to listen rather than holding forth sententiously?. Does he bring to the confessional the spirit of a friend, a brother, a'father, who does not judge the other more severely than the Lord would? Does he endeavor to discover extenuating cir-cumstances and to see the good that always exists in a soul alongside the bad? . . . Those whose primary obligation it is to save confession from a crisis that seems to be threatening it, are first and foremo:~t .the priests, to whom it has been entrusted by Christ through the Church.: The Holy Spirit and the Ministeroof Forgiveness A study of the journey and route taken by the Ordo Paenitentiae on its way to the Vatican printing press over the past ten years is very interesting for many reasons. Such investigation reveals that a major sou. rce from which the new rite draws its inspiration is ,the Eastern churches. It is a fact that the role of the Holy Spirit in the liturgy of the W~st has not received due attention. The most :striking and far-reaching reform has been to bring the Holy Spirit into the center, to the heart of the sacramental happening, thereby fulfilling the mens of the .,council, even if this was not voiced in lettera. The Cons'titu-t! pn on the Sacred Liturgy helped us to rediscover Christ; the post conciliar liturgical reform will help us to rediscover the Holy Spirit.:~ The rite~,~attempts to do for the West what the East has never forgotten, namely to unveil' the primordial link established in the gospel of John be-tween the Spirit and forgiveness. Receive the~ Ho.ly Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained. (Jn 20:22-23) Time and ~time again' this theme is presented in the rite itself. Just as the penitent is moved by the Spirit to seek forgiveness (:;q:6), so too the minis-ter acts by the power of the Holy Spirit to declare and grant forgiveness. Whether it be the c6mmunal rite or the rite for the reconciliation of the indi-vidual penitent, the minister and the penitent are told to pray together for a few moments asking for the gifts of the Spirit (#!5). Many of the .sug-gested Scripture selections emphasize the role of the Spirit. Finally all of this reaches a climax in the prayer, of absolution spoken by the minister -""The Minister o~ the Sacrament of Penance" L'Osservato~re Romano, February 7, 1974. ¯ aGodfrey Diekmann,'"The Laying on of Hands" Proceedings o] the Catholic Theo-logical Society o! America 29 (1974) p. 349. New Ritual o[ Penance and the Priest / 7 who announces the reconciliation accomplished "by the Holy Spirit sent among us for the forgiveness of sins." Imposition of Hands--Sign of the Holy Spirit The proclamation of forgiveness is accompanied by the ancient gesture of the imposition of hands. For centuries the sacrament of Penance was known as "the laying on of hands ad paenitentiam." Charles Borromeo tried to restore the penitential laying on of hands but he also introduced the con-fessional. He could not have it both ways, so only the remnant of the solemn gesture remained, namely the vertical extension of the right hand. The laying on of hands is not a peripheral rite restored by liturgists who have a bizarre archeological mentality. The renewal of this ancient sign tells us that it is the sacramental gesture par excellence. It reminds us of the healing ministry of Jesus who so often cured with a touch of the hand. But most important of all, this basic sacramental gesture, reinstated now in the liturgy of each of the sacraments, teaches that an epiclesis, a calling on the Spirit to effect change, is not restricted to the Eucharist. During an earlier age when the liturgy of reconciliation had no specific formula of absolution this gesture was never eliminated. It had a power all its own. It meant that the forgiveness of sins was the work of the Holy Spirit. One 0t~ the problems with Penance has been its symbolic poverty (this is true not only of Penance but of much of our liturgy a baptismal bath that is'not a bath, Eucharistic bread that is not real bread, etc.). We are great with words but weak on symbolic action. Henri Nouwen says that even young clergy who should know better are systematically eliminating every trace of symbol in favor of more and more verbal discourse, chatter, explanation, endless and infuriating pedagogy. That this is liturgy's death should be, by now, apparent." Too often our liturgy ~s wordy beyond toleration. The ges-ture of the imposition of hands, a_t_ the climax of the liturgy of reconciliation, speaks more eloquently than a thousand words about the meaning of Sacra-ment. At first many priests will find the imposition of hands strange and un-comfortable. It demands of the physician of souls closeness, gentle.ness, and communication of strength. It will not be easy for us to overcome a training that emphasized reserve and distance in dealing with penitents. It will take time and a great deal of common sense. At this point in the liturgy the penitent should kneel as the priest stands to impose hands and proclaim the words of forgiveness. Naturally the gesture is impossible except in rooms designed with the new ritual in mind. Much depends on the i~articular penitent and the mood of the moment. For some, this physical gesture would be a wonderful sign of forgiveness, rec-onciliation and acceptance. For others its newness could cause some mis- '~Henri Nouwen, Reachit,g Out (Doubleday, 1975) p. 30. Review [or Religious, I/olume 35, 1976/1 understanding and create further tension in a sacramental situation already filled with anxiety. The confessor open to the Holy Spirit and sensitive to the disposition of the penitent must judge each person se!earately . Certain priests may need to push themselves into a more physica~l, touching manner of healing sinners. Others may find they must restrain a natural effusiveness which can alienate . Both types of confessors obviously should be on guard in these charged circurhstances when a troubled penitent might mis-construe the laying on of hands. Lonely, injured spouses or sexually immature individuals could see this as a kind of advance. Whiie a sympathetic priest may feel compelled to comfort and console, he should be aware that his well in-tentioned action may instead confuse and complicate,r' The Priest as "Spirit Bearer" The initial key "needed to unlock the theology of the minister of recon-ciliation found in the Ordo is the idea of the priest as "Spirit bearer." This was a frequent description of the priest in the early church (Hippolytus, Cyril of Alexandria, Didascalia). Gerald Broccolo remarks in Concilium that for years we have considered the priest as alter Christus--someone wholly configured to Christ. While this is true, alter Christus seems to be the com-mon vocation of. every Christian, every member of the priestly people of God. Perhaps, he says, it might be more fruitful to view the priest as "a sacramental personification of the Holy Spirit." There is a great similarity between the. function and mission of the Holy Spirit and the role of the priest. The priest personifies the spirit when he consoles, encourages, gives guidance and support, convicts the world of sin, and teaches the Christian vision of human existence. Even though other Christians can frequently minister to the human family :in some of these same ways, the priest has been given the special charism of office to do so.'; Discernment of Spirits The celebrant of the liturgy of Penance must'possess the quality of spiritual, discernment (:~10A). He has the key function of raising the penitent's consciousness about gospel values. The confessor's manner should lead the penitent into an experience of discovering the truth about himself°on a deeper level. He is the catalyst who helps the penitent recognize the root causes of sin. He helps in the discernment of hidden sins, unsus-pected'offenses, and unrepented deeds that escape secular man today but which rip at the fabric of every community. Too often we pray for the wrong "things, we confess the wrong sins, we deal with symptoms and never treat the real illness. Why is it that go many settle into mediocrity and become lukewarm in a search for union with God? The monotonous cata-logue of sins that routinely comes to the penitent's lips keep him from ¯ ~Joseph Champlin, Together in Peace (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1974) p. 145. ~'Gerald Broccolo, "The Priest Praying in the Midst of the Family of Man," Concilium 52 (1970) 56-72. New Ritual o[ Penance and the Priest seeing his true self. To know one's tru'e sins is grace. To have a healthy sense of guilt is gift. It,is-the result of prayer. A prayerful and mutual dis-cernment in the dialogue of confession under the guidance of the Holy Spirit is the first step in a process of discovery. "The Spirit Js the first step in a process of discovery" (1 Co 2:10). We need the Spirit to help us face the truth about ourselves. The Confessor as "Pray-er" The more ancient phrase, "Spirit bearer," says a.great deal not only about who the priest is but also about how he should act. If he is "Spirit bearer" in the midst of the penitential assembly or for that matter in the Eucharistic assembly, he must act in a way that stimulates the faithful to pray~ A primary presupposition of all liturgical reform, and most especially of the sacrament of Penance, is that the sacrament is prayer. John Gallen r(marks that "What the contemporary reform of the Church's liturgy needs most in this~moment of its history is the rediscovery of liturgy as prayer.''z It is no accident that the first request made by the ritual' is for the priest and the penitent(s) to pray together (:#: 15, 16). Familiarity with the many suggested .prayers in the ritual is important but free prayer in one's own words is called for as well. The minister of reconciliation is not conducting a counseling session,. nor is he giving a conference on spiritual direction (:#:7B). While it is frequently necessary to give a word of counsel and direction, any serious situation which demands extended attention might~more profitably take place ¯ ¯ elsewhere. The ,ministry of reconciliation cannot be effective unless the confessor is a good "pray-er." Whether it be in a communal liturgy of penance or in the rite for the reconciliation of individual penitents, the priest is the celebrant who truly prays. The priest is "Spirit bearer" by public deputation of office, so that when he prays among men he must do so in a way that stimulates others to pray. His manner of prayer must engender the gift of the Spirit in the people around him. This cannot remain merely an intellectual conviction for the minister, rather he must endeavor to communicate this conviction in a humanly tangible manner. It is unfair to make tran'slations and texts bear the brunt of negative criticism with regard to liturgical reform. The even more commonly voiced disappointment with the r~sults of contemporary liturgical renewal can frequently be traced to the lack of a celebrant's internal dynamism of the Spirit being communicated to the assembly. The liturgy~cannot be rushed, it demands preparation, it rakes time. In an earlier age, canonical Penance was presided over by the bishop with the assistance of his presbyters and deacons who were joined in this act 7Johrl Gallen, "Liturgical Reform: Product or Prayer?". Worship 47 (1973) p. 587. Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/1 of worship by a community of 6elievers interceding on behalf of the penitents. The penitents themselve3 did not appear at this assembly without having spent months (even years) in prayerful preparation. Make no mis-take, we have no desire to slavishly imitate a sixth century liturgy in the twentieth century, but the Ordo Paenitentiae does have every intention of recapturing an understanding of reconciliation as a profound prayer ex-perience of the Holy One of God. In this act of worship, we attempt to communicate the incommunicable. Reconciliation cannot be mass produced. The-practice of "frequent confession" or "confession of devotion" will need redefinition so that the Sacrament will not be reduced to superficial ritual observance. After seven centuries of unbalanced emphasis on causality to the neglect of the signs, the Ordo Paenitentiae is another example of Post Vatican II's rejection of an unthomistic stress on causality that led in the past to a more or less mechanistic view of sacraments. Whittling down a penitential liturgy or any other sacramental celebration to what is abso-lutely essential for validity can erode its prayer context. More is required for fruitful celebration than a basic minimum. If celebrants use emergency rubrics as the normal procedure for the parochial experiences of the Sacra-ment, no translation, no text, no liturgical book will be of any help in solv-ing the problems of Penance. The American Bishops put it well. "Faith grows when it is well expressed in celebration. Good celebrations foster and nourish faith. Poor celebrations weaken and destroy faith.''~ :The Protestant community will be less likely to dismiss the sacrament ¯ of Penance if it sees it as a prayerful experience between minister and penitent(s) who stand under the word of God with faith prior to a procla-mation of!forgiveness. It is not magic. It is not over and done with in a few moments. It is now, as it was in the early Church, a process, an event that takes time. If Penance in our time has hit rock bottom, it will rebound only if we rediscover Penance as prayer. For this critical ministry the Church needs charismatic men at ease with situations which permit a free flowing prayerful exchange with penitents under the direction of the Holy Spirit. Tension Between Ecclesial and Individual Elements The Ordo Paenitentiae reminds the Church of the~ diversity of ways in which a Christian obtains forgiveness (prayer, Eucharist, works of mercy, Scripture, etc.) (:~4). The ritual of Penance now includes a rite which in-corporates general absolution after only a general confession of sinfulness. Kenan Osborne in a report made to the Catholic Theological Society of America remarks that with the Ordo "a definite break has been made; a door has been opened officially, and although the document takes a strad- SMusic in Catholic Worship" Bishops' Committee on the Liturgy, 1972. New Ritual of Penance and the Priest dling position, the openness to new forms cannot be saddled or bridled . ,,9 With regard to the limited use of general absolution the Ordo may be termed a transitional document, an important first step. Pastors anticipate an openness from the National Conference of Bishops ~ for expanded use of this rite in the years to come. However in age of personalism, being ministered to as "a face in the crowd" is no instant cure for the problem of Penance. True conversion, real change of heart, a new direction to one's llfe, and authentic reconciliation with God and Church does not happen more easily by eliminating a personal meeting with a sensitive minister of the Church. The second rite integrates the ecclesial and individual dimension of rec-onciliation. It must be said that with large congregations, even when many priests are available, it will prove awkward. At other times, with small congregations it may pose no real problem. However, in the lives of busy people it may prove impractical to expect everyone to wait until the entire group of penitents has confes~sed individually before concluding the ceremony. It will be pastorally and practical!y better in many parishes to conclude the. Penance service first and then invite the participants to individual confession and absolution. This will prevent truncating the. dia-logue of prayer" which is confession. Over the past ten years it is understandable that priests have spent most of their time attending to liturgical renewal as it relates to Eucharist. However during this same period many ~ther prayer services once familiar to Roman Catholics have disappeared. As a result we feel we have little choice when we come together for prayer. Is it not true that most Catholics labor under the false impression that the word "liturgy" means "Eucharist"? The Eucharist is the preeminent liturgical action, it is the "summit" of our worship, but it is not the entire mountain, We have placed too heavy a burden on the Eucharist to answer eyery .spiritual need of all the people all the time. We misuse the Eucharist by overuse as though it were the only prayer form that our people know. The rite,for the reconciliation of many penitents with individual confession of sins and the suggested non-sacramental penitential services in the Ordo are part of the answer to our prayer needs. These? rites (even when all do not individually confess) must be highlighted as important ways of. reinterpreting what is meant by our~ traditional concepts of "frequent confession" and "confession of devotion." Further, these rites are a good response to Vatican II's request for a. less individualistic liturgical piety. Liturgical services are not private functions, but are celebrations of the Church, which is the 'sacrament of unity,' namely a holy people united and :,Kenan Osborne, The Renewal o] the Sacrament o! Penance (Washington: Catholic Theological Society of America, 1975) p. 48. Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 organized under their bishops. Therefore, liturgical services pertain to the whole body of the Church; they manifest it and have effects upon it; but they concern individual members of the Church in different ways according to the diversity of holy orders, functions, and degrees of participation.~° It is to be stressed that whenever rites, according to their specific nature, make ~provision for communal celebration involving the presence and active partici-pation of the faithful, this way of celebrating them is to be preferred, as far as possible, to a celebration that is individual and quasi-private,it Every sacrament must' be celebration of Church. In an earlier age, the bishop presided over a penitential~liturgy that literally included every-one, priests, deacons, and laity. Today the priest is asked to work with liturgical committees in the formation of ministers of the Word, readers of prayers and examinations of conscience, musicians, acolytes, etc. In addition to this collaboration, the priest must ~sense that each l~enitent actually celebrates with the Church in the rite of individual con-fession and absolution. "Thus, the faithful Christian, as he experiences the mercy, of God in his life, celebrates together with the priest the liturgy of the. Church by which she continually renews herself" (~11). Since the penitent is in dialogue with the confessor in this rite, it is appropriate to encourage him to read the passages from" Scripture, to allow him time to make an act of sorrow, and even have him suggest an appropriate penance. Although not every Catholic is capable of such participation and we should not burden people who are not prepared, neither should we patronize or underestimate the ability of many American Catholics who desire from their priests "something more." Standing Under the Word of God Finally, it might be helpful to remember the bishop's mandate given to all priests moments before ordination: "Share with a~l men the word of God you have received with jby." Like Jesus the minister is anointed by the Spirit to bring the Good News of forgiveness to his people. HiS min-istry of "breaking the bread" of God's word in teaching the people by means of the homily is an essential part of the liturgy of Penance. Even in the rite for ~the reconciliation of individual penitents the priest should be reluctant to omit those few verses of Scripture and subsequent words of encouragement. Karl Rahner says that there are forgotten truths about the sacrament of Penance that need to be rediscovered. The homily within the ritual of Penance is a privileged opportunity "to teach as Jesus did" about the true meaning of sin and about the need for reconciliation with God and with the Church. Almighty and merciful God, you have brought us together in the name of your Son 1°Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy #26. 11Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy #.27. New Ritual o[ Penance and the Priest / 13 to receive your mercy and grace in our time of need. Open our eyes to see the evil we have done. Touch our hearts and convert us to yourself. Where sin has divided and scattered, may your love make one again; where sin has brought weakness, may your power heal and strengthen; where sin has brought death, may your Spirit raise to new life. Give us a new heart to love you, so that our lives may reflect the image of your Son. May the world see the glory of Christ revealed in your Church, and come to know that he is the one whom you have sent, Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord. (Ordo Paenitentiae :~99 Opening Prayer) Bibliography' Alszeghy, Zoltan. "Reform of the Rite of Penance,"~Theology Digest 23 (1975) 100- 106. Buckley, Francis. "Recent Developments in the Sacrament of Penance:' Communio I (1974) 83-93. Champlin, Joseph. Together iJ, Peace Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1975. Colborn, Francis. ',Psychotherapy and Conversio9," American Ecclesiastical Review 167 (19:.73) 75-90. Curran, Charles. ~'The Sacrament of Penance Today," Worship 43 (1969) 510-531, 590-619; 44 (1970) 2-19. Diekmann, Godfrey. "The Laying On of Hands: The Basic Sacramental Rite," Proceedings o/ tire Catholic Theological Society o[ America 29 (1974) 339-366. Donnelly, Doris. "The Problem of Penance," America 129 (1973) 324-327. Duffy, Regi'~i ~'Concelebration of Penance and a Therapeutic 191odel," Worsl, ip 48 (1974) 258-269. Gallen, John. "Liturgical Reform: Product or Prayer?" Worship 47 (1973) 580-591. -- "The Necessity of Ritual," Tire Way Oct. 1973, 270-282. -- "A ~PastoraI-Liturgical View of Penance Today," Worship 45 (1971) 132-150. Poschman, Bernard. Penance attd the Anointing o[ the Sick, New York: Herder, 1964. Prieur, Michael. The Sacrament o] Reconciliation Today, Bethlehem: Catechetical Comtnunications, 1974. Rahner, Karl. "Forgotten Truths about the Sacrament of Penance," ~Theological vestigations Volume II. -- "Problems Concerning Confession," Theological'Investigations Volume II. -- "Penance as an Additional Act of Reconciliation with the Church," Theological Investigations Volume X. Schillebeeckx, E. Sacramental Reconciliation New York: Herder, 1971. Sottocornola, F. A Look at the New Rite o] Petratrce Washington: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1975. Vogel, C. "Sin and Penance," Pastoral Treatment b] Sin ed. P. Delhaye New York: Descle6, 1968. Renewed Religious Life: The Dynamics of Re-discovery George Kosicki, C.S.B. Father Kosicki is on the staff of Bethany House of Intercession, a center of spiritual renewal that emphasizes intercessory prayer on behalf of all priests. His address is: Bethany House; Seminary of Our Lady of Providence; R. R. No. 1; Warwick, RI 02889, Six years ago, my superior general, Father John C. Wey, C.S.B., released me from University teaching and research in the field of biochemistry to work full time with prayer groups and to give retreats. He asked me to experiment with prayer groups and communities and bring back what I could for the renewal of our own religious ~ommunity, the Basilian Fathers. He advised me to search out various approaches and not to get. tied down to one thing too quickly. In following his advice, I have experienced a variety of communities and traveled extensively giving retreats, mainly to priests and religious these last years, searching for some understanding and some answers. It has been a time of being a pilgrim and I have found some in-sights and factors that I think need to be part of renewed religious life. Experiences by Decades My experience of religious life began after high school with the no~,itiate in 1946 in Rochester, New York. I remember it as a joyous time; a time when I wanted to give myself to the Lord without reserve. I felt ready to give whatever was asked of me with generous heart. There were no agoniz-ing questions, no searching for answers; all was there in the community and the rule, In 1956, two years after ordination, I was director of our scholastics (college seminarians) at Assumption University, Windsor, Ontario. It was a time of intense activity: studying, teaching, research and counseling. Con- 14 Renewed Religious Li[e / 15 cerns with the scholastics centered about the rule, spiritual exercises, aca-demic achievements, work with the boarding high school students and sports. Ten-years °later in 1966, as director of the. scholastics, I was involved in seminars on the documents of Vatican II and deeply immersed in the construction of a three-quarter-million-dollar house of studies. We had more novices than we had rooms! One of the concerns was the right layout and atmosphere that would "form community," such as the color of brick and the arrangement of rooms. .~ By the time it was opened we could not fill it. Now, approaching 1976, I .am searching for ways to renew religious life. I am trying to listen to what the Spirit is saying to the communities. There are no scholastics at the university and neither am I there. During these past years I have.been exposed to a variety of communities' experiments that have added to both my experience and non-experience of community. While traveling to many parts of the world giving retreats on faith renewal, I made my home base in various living situations. At the university I lived with fellow Basilian priests in an academic atmosphere where many were of one mind on our work, but so many of our hearts were off in different directions; in different theologies, different psy-chologies, different styles of living. ' During the summer of 1970 in Detroit I was part of a seven week program of sharing and prayer with a group of priests. It was a temporary community that inspired us to continue the searching. During the academic year of 1970-71 a group of students and a few priests came to live together as a community, using a former convent in the inner city at Santa Maria Parish. ,We were of one heart but never made cl~ar our agreements and found that we were not of~one mind. We thought that our common involvement with the large central prayer group at Gesu Parish, Detroit, would form us into a community; but we had no clear headship and a random pattern of living developed. In the beginning of 1971 a nucleus of five priests was attracted to a vision of a community committed to ~he renewal of priests. They joined,me at Santa Maria and on several retreats. We spent the summer together in sharing and prayer. It was a strained situation because the focus began with our interpersonal relationships, dealing with areas of trust and lack of trust, and seemed to continue at that level. In a sense, we were our own first customers; we were the ones who experienced healing, but there was so much more needed for so many brothers. The two priests, who stayed on with me (1971-72) in the retreat work with priests, found it increasingly difficult to work with the renewal of priests. Our community experience was good but not good enough. ,We tried to be of one heart and one mind but diversity of interest, of calling, and of talent seemed to dominate. Our temporary commitment worked against our making the needed agreements. For the next two years I moved to the Word of God Community in 16 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/1 Ann Arbor, Michigan, as a base of operation. The leaders of the com-munity asked me to come and live with them and receive the Christian support I needed for the retreat with priests. The Word of God is an ecu-menical lay community of more than 1200 people living in extended family households. It is a life ~of prayer and common worship that over-flows in service. The bond of unity is commitment to the Lord and to one another. I came to experienc6 the pattern of their community life and to see before me re-discoveries of many basics of religious life. In living with a family household, I came to appreciate the enormity of the love and fidelity of the parents, at least thirty-six hours a day. I came to be aware of the devastating impact of the school, peer group pressures~ TV, movies and .advertising on the lives of the children, I realized the need of a Chris-tian space to be free to be Christian and the need of common worship to support the members. Then, in living with a household of young menocom-mitted to a single life as brothers, I came to experience the rediscovery of poverty, obedience and celibacy. I watched before my eyes young men committing their whole lives to the Lord, to one and another and to service of the community with an eagerness and simplicity that I knew many years ago. There is no lack of commitment among the young; it is being directed toward these vibrant communities. These community cells are the remnant clusters that,.~are rediscovering the basic elements of religious life in our times. They are rediscovering: commitment, prayer, obedience, sub-mission, ~order, celibacy, poverty, forgiveness and confessing of sins to one another, healing, admonitions, service, brotherly affection, and love. ~ During the past year I~have been living with a small group of Basilians attempting to apply some of these re-discoveries into our "Basilian Way of Life." It is a simple, experiment: (an we live our Basilian way of life in a simple way? We came to experience the support of each other in regular faith-sharing of God's movements in our day, in praying together daily, in our Eucharists and meals and in our weekly hour of intercession for the needs, of our fellow Basilians and the Church. We found ourselves of one heart.We could freely share and pray together and for each other, but our different apostolic works took us in different directions, limiting our time together, At the present. I am preparing for another community experiment: a house of intercession for priests by priestsl As a result of the power of heal-ing and unbinding we experit~nced in a forty-day period of intercession for priests last summer (1974), six of us have been released by our major superiors to form a core-community of intercession. We are inviting others tO join us for a week or mori~ of thisoministry of prayer for our brothers. The six of us (two Basilians, a Maryknoll missioner, a Trappist, a Jesuit, and a diocesan pastor) want to live as a community putting into practice some of the re-discoveries of religious life. We want to be a healing com-munity that will help unbind our brother priests. Renewed Religious Lile / 17 It is interesting to note that a parallel change took place in our seminary in Toronto during these same decades. In 1946 St. Basil's Seminary con-sisted of some fifty theologians and faculty housed in an old orphanage, A great emphasis.was placed on the theology of St. Thomas and on teaching. In 1956 the classroom extension on the new seminary marked the beginnings of the "New Theology." By 1966 the new freedom expressed itself in new patterns of studies, small group encounters, and a general ~democratization of life style. Now, approaching 1976, a remnant of Basilians is part of a theological union at St. Basil's College. What can be said about 1986? What will religious life be like? I have some. questions that concern me and some re-discoveries that have given me hope. Questions about Religious Life What can I say about the renewal of religious life in light of this back-ground of experience? I wish 1 had the answers. What I do have. is the anguish of many concerned questions and the insights of some re-dis-coveries. Will religious life, as we have known it, die out? Isoa remnant to preserve this way of life for a future restoration? Can the new wine of renewal be put into old wineskins? I would like to answer these questions with the surety that would give hope, but I am confronted with the reality of dying communities--empty novitiates, closed seminaries, the average age of membership increasing dramatically, continued resignation of mem-bers. Another question that concerns me is the :nature of the apostolic work usually done by religious communities; such as, schools, hospitals, and social work. Where does the religious community enter a government controlled structure and how does it survive as a work of mercy and charity in the midst of a bureaucratic system? A related question confronts religious com-munities: Do we dare sell our institutions or are we secure in them like the young rich man in the Gospel? Can we be secure in insecurity? Another concern ~about religious life is its isolation from the full ecclesial community. Have religious communities become churches unto themselves? Have they been more interested in their self-perpetuation and the advancement of their own apostolic endeavors than in the welfare of the people of God and the proclamation of the Kingdom? Another concern is that many religious communities have attempted renewal by a single directional thrust; that is, the lessening of discipline and order. The usual result has been the lessening of the time given to prayer by the individual and by the community. This type of renewal was not an experiment; it was just a change. There was little, if any, evaluation and no time limit set for the termination of the change. A greater emphasis was placed on personal responsibility and initiative, but so many of us have come to realize how much we need the mutual support of each other that is expressed through order. Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/1 Another thrust has been on pluralism within the community. I, among others, was a strong proponent of pluralism at our renewal chapter of 1968, but now I see the need of unity, of unanimity, of being of one heart and mind in our community and apostolate. What has been the effect of these changes? The drastic changes in .the last decade have been devastating to the morale of many older members. Nonverbal communications came across: that what was done before~was not good and what we are bringing in is better. The renewal has ushered in new and good things. But have we discarded some of the treasures of the old? From my experiences of living in various communities, I have come to some insights into re-discovering some of these discarded treasures. Insights into Re-discoveries I have come to see that there is no lessening of cofnmitment among young men and women. It is being directed, however, to new styles of life, to the lay communities and not to the traditional forms of religious life. Religious communities and leaders in the Church need to take a sincere look at what is happening in these lay communities, not with a stance of "wait and see" or of tolerance, but of active participation and encourage-ment. The Spirit is speaking to these communities and .the Church needs to hear wtiat the Spirit is saying. ~, Religious communities will find that the basic practices that have been rejected in our renewal process are now being "re-discovered" by these lay communities. What richness they are finding in common and private prayer (what used to be called office, meditation, holy hours), in Scripture reading, in teachings (conferences), in an ordered life under headship (obedience and rule), in support, encouragement and admonitions, (moni-tions, spiritual direction), in confessing their sins to one another and praying for one another (examen, chapter of faults), in times of sabbath (grand silence). But, above all, the basic commitment to ~the Lord Jesus is made explicit and is freely, talked about and regularly renewed. The reality of Jesus as Lord of their lives together is what makes these com-munities vibrant and alive with new members. I have come to be less discouraged with the conflict experienced in religious communities, realizing that the source of the conflict is often the Holy Spirit Himself. The Holy Spirit convicts us so that we would get off dead-center, so that we would not be self-satisfied with our security. The message of the Spirit to religious communities may well be the message of the Spirit to the Church in Laodicea: You keep saying, "I am so rich and secure that I want nothing." Little do you realize how wretched you are, how pitiable and poor, how blind and naked! Take my advice. Buy from me gold refined by fire if you would be truly rii:h. Buy white garments in which to be clothed, if the shame of your nakedness is to be covered. Buy ointment to smear on your eyes, if you Renewed Religious Li]e / 19 would see once more: Whoever is dear to me I reprove and chastise. Be earnest about it, therefore, repent! Rv 3:17-19. The message of the Spirit is to repent, to be renewed. It is not a call just to a change, but ,to a change for the better, to a renewal. I see that religious communities need tO keep searching and re-discover their founda-tions. Experimentation I would encourage religious communities to cbntinue experimentation; that is, to try what is possible with agreed-upon limits. The difficulty with many experiments is that they were tried without an understanding of the nature of experimentation. It was not experimentation but change. Experi-mentation means actually doing something with pre-set limitations that allow evaluation. For instance, so often an "experiment" is attempted with no termination date and, when it finally does terminate, it is usually because it just fails due to the nature of the situation and the members feel the failure as frustration and/or guilt. A'termination date allows an evaluation of positive and negative features. Also, experimentation calls for oneness of heart and mind. The members of the group need to agree on their ideals and on the practical' steps necessary to achieve them; such as, time commit-ment, prayer schedules, work assignments, finances, order and headship. Experiments in community life fail so often because of the lack of agree-ments among the members; agreements are needed on the ideals as well as on the practicalities of day to day living and on the authority to call: one another to fulfill the agreements made. Agreements are the limitations set on the experiment that allow evaluation. The professor who directed my ~dissertation research in biochemistry insisted on two principles in regard to experimentation: One, "Don't talk about it, do it;" and the .other, "An experiment never has enough controls." ~(Controls are the fixed limits set on the experiment that make possible its evaluation.) And so~.in regard to experimenting With renewal of religious life, I would encoutage religious communities to "try and try again" and to ¯ "set specific agreements on what is to be done." I would encourage experi-mentation not just change, o ~ The Church needs many examples of what can be done. We need living models of renewed religious communities that can be a sign ot~ hope to other communities. We need religious~communities to be living witnesses of the Risen Lord Jesus. It would only take a few t6 spark a spiritual revolution in the Church. The Charismatic Renewal and Religious Life The charismatic renewal cannot be igno~'ed; it just won't go ,away by not paying attention to it. The message of the charismatic renewal is to the whole Church and in a special way to religious communities. We need to Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 hear what the Spirit is saying no matter what our experience of the charis-matic renewal has been. There are a variety of messages spoken directly to religious communi-ties, some of which can be easily accepted and others causing tension. The many people who have been renewed by a new fullness of this Spirit challenge religious to be renewed and have their hearts set on fire with the love and the power of the Lord. This fire expresses itself in the ways that should be part of religious life: by the presence of God, in the prayer of praise, in the power of ministry, gifts of prophecy, healing and discernment, in the love of Scripture and speaking of the Lord. This new fire is available to all religious for the asking, that is, if we ask with hunger for the Lord and the expectancy of faith. The challenge of the charismatic renewal is not only to the individual member of religious communities but also to communities themselves to rediscover the essential factors of their life together. This kind of challenge causes tensions. Many religious as individuals have experienced the power of their "baptism of the Holy Spirit" and have been set on fire with new life but confronted a tension when they returned to their home community. For many, the prayer-meeting with people not of their own community is the occasion of love, fulfillment, and prayer; but when they return home they find bickering and superficiality. Others, on returning home are confronted with the challenge: Why can't you find your fulfillment at home? I see that the major cause of the tension is the Holy Spirit Himself; He is healer but He also is.judge This is true of the individual and of the community.This tension is good and from the Spirit Who brings the sword. We are being challenged to be renewed. Are there any religious communities that have been renewed by the charismatic renewal? Some~have been founded anew, such as, St. Benedict's Abbey, Pecos, New Mexico. But we need more models of renewal. People are waiting for a community to say, "Here we are!" We need some :.real evidence of the Lord's work and we are waiting. We need to be patient and wait for the Lord's time-table. Some religious communities are experi-encing a charismatic renewal by "osmosis," that is, a gradual absorption of ' various aspects, such as, shared and spontaneous prayer,,a greater rever-ence for the Word of God, renewed interest in the Lord. But we also need the direct renewal of deeper conversion to the Lord Jesus. The greater yielding to the power- and ministry-gifts of the Holy Spirit and the deeper relationships of love for one another in full community, What can an individual religious do when there is tension within the community over the charismatic renewal? Love much and love still more. It is the witness of love expressed in daily service, care, forgiveness and patience that melts tensions. Only by asking for this love in daily prayer will we be able to love in this.way. ~n addition, the individual religious will need to find support in a praying-healing community. For a while this may Renewed Religious Life have to be outside the "religious" community! What a contradiction that a member of a religious community would have to go outside that community to find spiritual support. And yet I have seen far too many religious who have had to do just that. There are many lay communities that are experiencing a renewed li~e in the Spirit and are challenging religious communities to drink deeply of the new wine and be what they are called to be. Religious communities are being challenged to be leaders of renewal in the Church, to be an integrated part of the whole Church, to be a believing, confessing witness to the world, a charismatic witness to the Church. Religious communities ought to be charismatic communities with all the gifts of the H01y Spirit operative; including wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, miracles, prophecy, discern-ment of spirits, tongues and interpretation (cf. 1 Co 12). Religious com-munities need to make use of all the gifts of the Holy Spirit that are given for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Religious communities have been challenged to renewal by the Second Vatican Council to look to the charism of their founders. Such a looking to, and renewal of, their original charism may in some cases be a "re-discovery" and in others a restoration. Com-munities do have a charism that identifies them. It may be a ministry or a life-style but always it is a fire. It is the fire that enkindled the founder and set on fire the hearts of those who followed. The characteristics of this fire can be seen in the early Church itself, as described in the Acts of the Apostles. Surely the whole Church needs to experience its founding charisms and it will if religious communities become charismatic. Factors in Renewed Religious Life From my experiences of failure and success in a* variety of community experiments, I see that there are basic factors to be taken into account in any renewed community. The factors I would like to stress include: common commitment, agreements, headship and submission, sin and forgiveness, prayer in private and together, Eucharist, celibacy and mutual support, poverty, discipleship, :apostolate and brotherhood (companionship) and witness. The order of importance of the various factors depends on the nature and state of the existing community and apostolate. There needs to be a dynamic equilibrium of being disciples, apostles, and brothers (com-panions). 1. Common Commitment: The common commitment to Jesus as Lord is the fundamental factor of Christian life. Each of us, individually and together, needs to profess Jesus as Lord. He alone can be the center and reason for our lives together. We need to allow Him to be the Lord of our lives. It is His Spirit dwelling in our hearts that binds us into one body. This dimension of community exists prior to us and we enter into it, that is, the community of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit pre-exists. As we enter into the Spirit of the Lord Jesus we enter into a pre-existing community. Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 We do not "form" community in the sense of giving it birth~ but rather we allow it to grow the more deeply in each of us as we enter into the Spirit and allow Jesus to be the Lord of our lives. As we enter into a relationship with the Lord, we enter into a common-union with Him and so with all the others who also have entered into this union. Our common-union-in-Christ is the bond that forms community. This is the bond that needs to be made explicit, public, vocal, and regularly renewed. Many religious communities continue to assume ,,that this basic rela-tionship is real in their members. My experience.,testifies that this assump-tion cannot be made universally and needs to be made explicit. We need to make explicit our relationship to Jesus as the Lord of our lives, that is, we all need to support one another in continued conversion. One way of supporting each other in this relationship is by our daily prayer support and faith-sharing (see below for further development) which gradually begins to counteract the domination of other "lords" in our lives. And we have been deeply influenced by "lords" other than Christ in these past decades: by the dominance of success, by the fallacy of numbers, by the influence of materialism, by the ideals of self-fulfillment, etc. We need to renew our basic commitment to the Lord Jesus. 2. Agreements: We cannot assume that we are of "one heart and one mind" (Acts 4:32); we need to re-discover how to make agreements and come to oneness of heart and mind. It is a process that takes time and listening to all the members but it also involves laying down our own pre-conceived ideas and desires to achieve a unanimity but not a uniformity. It means that we want to be reminded of our agreements so that we may keep them. Agreements need to be clear and even written down so that we do not have misunderstandings. The agreements that are not clear are usually the source of "double expectations." One person expects to do B and another C and neither is fulfilled. We need to agree on our expectations, our ideals, and on the daily, practical ways they are to be achieved. Agreements are the "controls" of the experiment; they set the limits of what can be done together, limits of time commitments, involvements and duties. When evaluation is done, we need to look to our agreements. They will show us how the experiment is working. 3. Headship and Submission: Each member needs to be under the authority of another, not in the sense of being under a superior~ as we knew it in the past, but in the sense of being a part of the body. Each member of the body needs to be in submission to and in support of the whole, body if the body is to function as one. In the past we had separated the roles of superior, confessor and spiritual director so that the superior was not to involve himself in the spiritual life of the individual and the spiritual director or confessor was not to involve himself in the daily life of the individual. We need tore- Renewed Religious Li[e / 23 discover the role of a "spiritual elder" who would take responsibility for the whole welfare of the person. Each person needs such a "head" to reflect his needs, to challenge him, to confront him with his agreements, to foster his total growth. Such a "head" has the responsibility to see that the individuals and the community are growing; he is to see that decisions and agreements are made and problems are faced up to but he does not have to make the decisions himself. Such headship means support and submission of all the members of the body to one another, not just to the head. This re-discovered concept of headship would extend obedience beyond the vertical relationship to the horizontal as well. It would mean a submission and reverence to one an-other as members of the same body. It would mean that members iaf a brotherhood would not be just keepers of their brothers, like Cain, but rather be brothers to their brothers in the Lord. ~" 4. Sin and Forgiveness: One of the major factors in the. daily living of Christian community that needs to be re-discovered is the effect of sin and the need of forgiyeness. Sin has a drastic effect on community. The sin of any one member of the body affects the whole body. My sin of resentment or anger affects you and your sin affects me. Sin is a communal responsi-bility. In the recent past we have made sin. a private matter mainly to pro-tect the privacy of conscience. We have relegated sin to the privacy of confession or to the spiritual director and have separated the office of confessor, spiritual director and superior. We~ need to reconsider the effect this has on community. Sin is not a private matter. We need ways to confess our ~ins to one another, forgive one another and pray for one another s6 that we be healed (cf. Jm 5: 16), In the past religious communities have had ways of confessing sin to one another; in chapter of faults and in monitions, but these became stylized into dead rituals and were dropped by many communities. There are simple ways of confessing our sins to one another that should be in-corporated into our daily life. Sin will continue to be a reality that we need to deal with daily. Seventy times Seven times a day we will have to forgive one another. 'Community exists not when sin disappears but when we learn to forgive four hundred and ninety times a day. We need to learn to ask for forgiveness, to give forgiveness and to receive it. When we exchange forgiveness we acknowl-edge sin but ~ve also'acknowledge that our love is greater than sin. To the extent that we have forgiveness--to that extent we have~ community (Bon-hoeffer). If there is any one single factor that needs to be present in com-munity, I think, it is forgiveness. Sins against our.relationships are the major factors that destroy community. Forgiveness, as we ourselves have been for-given in Christ, is our mission of reconciliation and restores community. 5. Faith Sharing: One of the ways that our common commitment to the Lord Jesus is supported is by faith-sharing. Daily we need to share our 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 faith experiences and how the Holy Spirit is working in our lives. In the past we had examen as a time to review our lives, but the emphasis was on ourselves, our sins, our virtues; it became a time to make a list ot~ our faults. The daily sharing at the end of the"day can become a new form of common examen. For example, beginning with a period of silence we can let the Spirit reveal to us where He acted today so that we could recognize His action in our lives; then each in turn can share two or three moments when they recognized the action of the Spirit and corresponded to it or did not correspond to it. In listening to one another we come to hear how the Spirit works in each of us. We can respond with joy, prayer and en-couragement. Daily faith sharing becomes a very special time of closeness in the local communities. We come to know and support each other; we come to know ourselves and the delicacy of the movements of the Holy Spirit. Our faith grows as we hear the faith of our brothers expressed. Faith comes from hearing and we need to hear the faith of one another as well as see it. As trust grows among the group, the confession of~.our weakness and sin becomes possible. It is in this kind of sharing that we can confess to another, pray for one another and so be healed. 6. Prayer: To be a Christian community, each member needs to be faithful to daily prayer. I would place the minimum for each person at an hour of private prayer each day. We need a block of an hour to be before the Lord, to let Him love us, heal us and teach us. If we are to work with Him, we must know Him and this takes time. There is no substitute for this daily time of drawing nourishment from the Lord; it would be better to miss a meal than to miss this time of being apart with Him. To be Christian, the community needs to pray together. The prayer of the' Church Calls us together several times a day, But over and above that, I have come to see the power of hours of prayer spent together in inter-cession for the needs of the Church. In interceding for others, we join Jesus before the throne of the Father. The Father waits for us to ask for our needs in the name of Jesus. Prayer is the time of drawing spiritual nourishment for life. Without prayer we are inviting death to reign in the community. Each individual needs to feed the community with his prayer and, in turn, the communal prayer strengthens the individual. It may well be that the lack of prayer in religious comn~unities, both~ private and communal, has been the major factor in the increased signs of death--decrease in commitment and decrease in vocations. If I were to venture a guess at the major factors among those listed, I would point to the lack of prayer and lack of forgiveness. We need to rediscover prayer--not a return to reciting prayers, but truly praying. We can make use of every form of prayer available to us: the official prayer of the Church, shared prayer, spontaneous prayer, prayer in Renewed Religious Life / 25 the spirit, silent contemplation, lectio divina, holy hours, litanies, the rosary, novenas, and any other form. In this time and state of the Church, we need to make use of every channel of power to cry out in our need for mercy. The prayer of Our time is just this: lamentation. To weep with Jesus forthe ChurCh and the world. ~' 7. Eucharist: The celebration of the Eucharist, I have come to experi-ence, does not "form" community in the sense of giving it birth, but it rather is the cause of growth of community. It nourishes the life that is there and celebrates it. The Holy Spirit gives birth to community and He must be dwelling in our hearts in order that we be nourished by the Eucharist. This means that we need to approach the altar with forgiveness and conversion of who we are. If we do not recognize the assembled body for what it~is as the body of the Lord, we eat and drink to. our own judg-ment and "that is why so many among you are sick and infirm, and why so many are dying" ( I Co 11 : 30). The Eucharist can be an escape from facing the real 'issues that divide us.,On the other hand, the Eucharist can be and should be the source of healing of our divisions. To be healed we need to confess both our sinful-ness and our faith in the two-fold presence of the Lord:' The Lord is present as spiritual food and as the assembled body. Our faith is expressed in,the invisible presence and our submission .and obedience is expressed to the visible presence of the assembly. To be truly one we are to be one in faith and one in obedience. Is the real source of divisions over this obedi-ence? Do we approach the Eucharist "listening to" (the real meaning of obedience) the Lord and one another? Do we approach the body of the Lord with reverence, submission and obedience? When we celebrate the Eucharist, confessing who we are and confessing who Jesus is, we truly will recognize the Lord in the breaking of the bread. He will open our hearts and minds and heal us so that we might be one. Eucharist ought to be and can be th~ summit and source of our life to-gether when we approach the table of the Lord as a, "confessing com-munity." 8. Celibacy: Mutual Si~pport o[ Love--Consecrated celibacy is a way of living for the Lord in a singular way. It is a gift of the Lord for the upbuilding of community by which we are freed to love more broadly and serve with greater commitment. In a sense, celibacy is a gift of time for the community; it frees us to give time to love and service. On the one hand; celibacy is freeing but, on the other hand, it limits us to be served and be loved by the community. To live as celibates we need to receive the support of community. This involves mutual 16ve and concern. It is a marriage to the bQdy of the Lord, His Church. I have come to re-discover the need of small celibate communities within the larger ecclesial communities because it is in the small com-munity that this mutual love, concern, and support is expressed in a daily Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 way. The mutual support of love can be expressed in a number of ways: praying for each other and over each other for support, healing and deliv-erance from various kinds of bondage, sharing of faith experiences, con-fessing our sins and .forgiving, speaking to each other the tru~th in real love, facing our fears fearlessly, sharing the daily events of work, recre~ation, meals and the special events of celebrations, submitting to one another so that each person is under headship, expressing our affection for each other in visible signs. "Greet all the brothers with holy embrace" (I Th 5:26). This sign of affection may seem like a small or silly thing but it is not. We cannot embrace a brother with a resentment against him.It has been a fascinating discovery for me to realize that the very signs of affection that were so definitely discouraged in novitiates and seminaries because of the fear of homosexuality, are the most effective way of avoiding the problem. A warm affectionate community is not only the greatest antidote to homosexuality but also is needed to live out our consecrated celibacy. 9. Poverty: Poverty needs to be re-discovered. I see that poverty has two fundamental aspects: possession and dispossession. The first movement of poverty is to be possessed by the power and the presence of the Person of the Lord Jesus Christ. When we are possessed by Him we are rich and truly free. The second movement of poverty is to be dispossessed---of all that is not of Christ: of things, attitudes,, and relationships. To me this means that we. may become poor in new ways as well as in the old: poor in the extent of involvement, poor in the use of our time, poor in productiv-ity, poor in successes; as well as poor in material goods, food, clothes, housing and transportation. When we are dispossessed, we stand weak and stripped before the Lord and man, and allow ourselves to be posSessed with the richness of the Lord; He becomes our power and joy. Religious communities are called to be poor, not just in spirit, but also in fact. Our sign to the world is that we are rich in the Lord, Can re-ligious communities be the sign of contradiction that confronts the "lords" of our age: materialism, competition, and ~ivarice? 10. Disciples-Apostles-Brothers: I am coming to rediscover the need of a dynamic equilibrium between three aspects of religious life. We need to be disciples, apostles and brothers (companions), that is, all three need to be renewed, not just one or the other. As religious, I see that we are called by Jesus as His disciples to follow Him, and sent by Jesus as His apostles with His power to do the work of the Father, and united as His brothers by His love to be a witness to the world. In renewing religious life we need to emphasize the word ltis; we are to be ltis disciples, ltis apostles, l-lis brothers (companions). Have we attempted to renew our communities according to our own patterns, making ourselves disciples of our founder, or apostles of our own brand of apostolate? Or have we attempted renewal of our communities by approaching the renewal of just one aspect, such as, Renewed Religious Li]e / ~17 the apostolate or the community? Community life cannot be renewed with-out the renewal of discipleship and the apostolate; they are all inter-related. I have experienced, however, that the aspect that is most easily passed over: is discipleship. We have a tendency to assume that all our mem-bers are undergoing continous conversion and all are praying.and know Jesus Christ in a personal way as Lord and Savior. My experience bears witness that this assumption cannot be made. To put it in another way, many religious need to be evangelized. Many more than we like to admit need to come to experience the presence and power of the Person of the Lord Jesus Christ. l 1. Ecclesial Witness: The religious community ought to be and can be the living witness of what it means to be Christian. It ought to be able to say to those in need: "Come and see." "Come and live with us that you may know how to live." The religious community ought to be and can be the yeast that leavens the Church with a ferment of new wine, bringing new joy and hope to the Church and a world that so needs new vision and good news. The religious community ought to be and can be a confessing com-munity; confessing both its sinfulness and that Jesus is Lord and Savior. The confessing community speaks the truth in love: we are in need ot~ help and Jesus is given for our help. The world needs to hear this truth spoken in great love. The religious community ought to be and can be a poor and praying community 'that is the sign to the world that Jesus is alive in our day. The religious community ought to be and can be charismatic and serve the body of Christ with all the ministries of the Holy Spirit., Steps Toward Achievement What can be done if, in fact, we are not experiei~cing the ideal? I would suggest some practical steps that could be taken to work toward it. These steps are possible at any time. 1. Ask the Father in Jesus to send Their Holy Spirit of love and power to draw men together; 2. Forgive, forgive, forgive and remove the obstacles to our being one; 3. Share to the extent possible; sharing our burdens, our prayer, our faith experiences, our goods; 4. Listen to the Spirit revealing Himself to each of us and through each other. We need vehicles of communal listening in otieying the Lord. If we want to know what the will of the Lord is, we need to look with discernment to what He is in fact doing and saying. A further step then follows: as the Lord calls together a core of leaders who are similarly drawn to meet (step 5) on a regular basis, even Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 daily, to carry out steps 1, 2, 3, and 4, this calling will lead the leaders to commit (step 6) themselves to one another. Around such a core of committed leaders, a believing and witnessing community can grow. There are some Christian communities who have grown in this way. We need to look to them for the message they are speaking to the Church in our day. They are living and speaking a radical message. Do we darer listen? Pastoral Ministry. For those who want to more. Trinity College offers a unique program integrating scripturel theolog~ and professional skills to 15elp you be of greater service to your fellow man and A combination of theoretical and 'practical preparation offers opportuni-ties for specialization in health care, the aging, correctional work, the parish or education. Choose from a 4 semester MA degree program, a 2semester non-degree program, or a 5 week Summer Institute starting June 28, 1976. Fc~r more information write or call Sister Mary Louise Norpel, S.N.D., Director, at (202) 269-2276. Trinity College Dept. 02 Washington. D.C. 20017 Please send me more informalion. narr~ address dry state__ZIP___ TR N H[NGTON The Art of Religious Leadership Sister Noreen Murray, F.M.M. Sister Noreen resides at 225 East 45th St.; New York, NY 10017. As a student at St, Louis University, School of' Social Service, I had the opportunity to participate in a Values and Ethics course that helped me to take a closer look at who I have become because of the values I hold. I selected the topic of leadership for ~'ne Of our assignments because I be-lieve that good leadership is essential for the growth of individuals. The emphasis of this paper is on the role of religious women who have assumed the responsibilities of leadership. As used in~ this paper, the term, "leader" is synonomous with the terms of "superior" or "coordinator" that are presently being used by many religious communities. The art of religious leadership is the creative process which unravels as an individual accepts responsibility to help other persons or organizations, strive to achieve the goals or ends for which they have come together with a shared vision. A religious leader is an individual who responds to life with her whole being; aware that every person she meets and every breath she takes is a gift from the ;Father for her. The discovery of God in her life has brought new insights and .meanings to everything she does~ She has been able to come,to a deeper understanding of' who she is, as she reflects on her womanhood, religious commitment and responsibilities. God has gently touched her and whispered her name, beckoning her to assume the office of leadership. I believe that a religious woman has a lot to contribute as leader, both within her own community and also in public organizations. The focus therefore of this paper will be on the various dimensions of creative leadership which are applicable to both settings and will be indi-cated by reference made to a leader with responsibilities in community. The importance for a religious leader to be aware of the reasons why her community was founded cannot be stressed enough. For when a leader 29 30 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 is able to step back in time and become immersed in the history of her :ommunity, she is able to have a better perspective of where the community has come from and what is its potential for the future, In doing this, the leader may have to call the community to accountability because over the years they have become so involved in "doing" that they have lost the freedom of "being." The call to accountability is sometimes a painful one for the leader to initiate and yet if the community is to be viable, it must be one of life rather than of technological necessity. As a religious leader looks at the community, she realizes that it is a dynamic interaction of individual women who have come together with a shared vision, in the hope of one day attaining their goal. The uniqueness of each woman in the community gives a richness to the life of the com-munity, when she is allowed to be herself and grow to her potential. Com-munities that have been in existence for years have sometimes become so involved in their Work and apostolate that they get further and further away from the real meaning of their existence. The encouragement that a religious leader is able to give to women in her community to become sensitive to the roots of the community and see how the roots can remain firm as they branch out into various works, will often be a bond of unity for all.'involved. Personal reflection on the community enables the women to have a better understanding of what part they play in its growth and de-velopment. With this enriched insight, there is often a renewed dedication and commitment that occurs in the life of each woman. Although the religious leader cannot escape the complexity and magni-tude of the work she is confronted with each day, she can approach the situation responsibly. An awareness of who the women in her community are, may be one means she can use to delegate some of her work. In dele-gating work to an individual, the.leader is giving her ~the opportunity to utilize her talents and gifts and expand her potential. Once the leader has delegated what work can be done by others, she is then in a better position to see what she has to do. By taking time to list' in a priority sequence the things that are to be done, she,~will have a more realistic perspective Of what can be achieved. As this priority list is developed, the religious leade'r realizes the possibility of frustration has been lessened when she is not able to cover all the work that is before her because the demands that she has placed on herself are more realistic and in line with what can feasibly be accomplished: A religious leader is as human as the next person and like the rest of mankind, she must take time to step aside from her work and be re-freshed. It is important for the leader as well as the community to realize this because unknowingly in her desire to help others, she maybe over-doing things and stifling her own potential for growth. The community can be very supportive to her by respecting her humanness and acknowledging the efforts she makes to bring them closer to their goals. While the religious The Art o] Religious Leadership / 31 leader shares with her constituents the proposals and decisions that are to be made, it is often she alone who bears the brunt of mistakes and failures that have occurred. I believe that it is important for the women in community to accept the responsibility of our failures, as well as our suc-cesses with our leaders. We are human beings and any one of us is capable of making mistakes. We must learn to accept ourselves with our weaknesses as well as our strengths. The creativity of a religious leader to initiate new dimensions for change is often met with resistance from the community members. The stability and comfortableness that has existed for years does not want to be shaken. The question of "Why is it necessary to have these changes?", is often posed by some of the sisters to the religious leader. The prayerful preparation that has gone into formulating these changes gives the re-ligious leader the openness to listen to each one and respond in such a way that all have a better understanding of what is involved in these changes. The element of risk is often involved in any decision and one must be willing to pay the price for that risk, if one is going to be true to herself and her calling. To step into the unknown can be a frightening experience and yet as one begins the journey and stumbles and falls along the way, she is often in a better position to pick herself up and proceed onward. The channels of communicationthat are accessible to all the women in the community, is a very important consideration to which' the leader should be sensitive. If'the leader is to speak to the members of the community, it is important that she realizes there is more than one way of expressing our ideas, and if we are to speak to a group, we must see what method will be most receptive by this particular group. The ability of the women to com-prehend what is being said is important, and the leader must make every endeavor to make the arch of distortion ever smaller. The arch of distor-tion is affected not only by the acoustics of the room, its physical situation in the comm._ unity, but also by the importance and relevance that this com-munication will have on the individual sisters. The growth of community is not a one-sided effort but rather the interaction and exchange of all the women in the community. Because of this, it is imperative that the means of communication be accessible and used by all the members. Even though the religious leader may not have personal expertise within the area of financial management, it is important for her to be involved in the formulation of the budget and other financial expenditures. This principle highlights another aspect of leadership and that is the ability to select .persons who have expertise within a given field and the capability of utilizing this expertise on a broader scale. Once the leader is able to share various leadership responsibilities with qualified persons, she is relieved of many pressures and is therefore able to extend herself in a more human way to others. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 The vision of a religious leader often extends beyond her immediate community to the larger community of the neighborhood,, city, nation or world. If her community is to be a dynamic witness to others, it is impera-tive that it has interaction with others. The call to leadership does not stop at one's doorstep, rather it calls one forth to become responsible in new and varied ways. Leadership is dynamic, if we-will allow it the freedom to be creative and responsive. When a religious leader knows what her beliefs are, it is important that she stands up to be counted. Christ's call to discipleship was never one of ease but rather self-giving. The truth and sincerity of religious leaders speak loudest in the silence of their presence and the beliefs to which they give witness. The emphasis of this paper has been on religious leadership in both communities and public organizations and was expressed from the view-point of religious leaders in community. I believe that the responsibilities for a religious leader in a public organization would basically be the same. By substituting the word organization for community in the paper, I think one can understand the validity of this statement. The presence of religious within a public organization can be a very powerful force in helping the organization grow to a new dimension. Change does not happen overnight in any organization but the influence that a religious can have on an organi-zation by her presence and convictions may stimulate the organization to have a greater accountability for its existence and policies. I believe that it is a challenge and responsibility that religious have to step out of our comfortable environments and into the realm of risk and venture forth into the unknown. Religious leaders do not have all the answers; they are striving as best as possible to encourage a great degree of collegiality in decisions that are made, for they recognize the ability that each woman has to enrich the community by sharing her ideas and insights. It mfiy seem as though I pre-sented an ideal type of leadership that is not very real, however I believe that it is very difficult to jud.ge or criticize another for mistakes when I am not totally aware of all the intricacies that are involved. My presen-tation was one of potential, something that should be strived for by all leaders. When we open ourselves to the humanness of our leaders, we ha~,e a greater appreciation for their efforts and stumbles they have made as they try to enrich our shared vision. The creativity that is involved in leadership brings each of us to new dimensions and possibilities. Are we willing to accept the guidance of religious leadership that may lead us into the unknown, facing us with the possibility of taking risk? If we do not have all the answers, are we willing to pursue that truth which will lead us to its discovery? Shall we take this journey through life, or shall we sit by the shores and watch the waves come in? The response that is to be given to these questions is a personal one. Are we ready to make that response and live with the choice we make? The Holy See, the Society of Jesus and the 32nd General Congregation Vincent O'Keefd, S.J. Father O'Keefe, past president of Fordham University, has been an Assistant General resident in Rome since 1966. He has frequently acted as Vicar General during Father Arrup¢'s absences from Rome. His address is: Borgo S. Spirito, 5; C.P. 9048; 00100 Roma, Italy. Introduction The modesty of that title reminds me of a course we had as novices. It was entitled, "From Adam to Pius XII." Anyone studying the 32rid General~Congregation now or at some future date will place its distinctive note in the deep and continuing concern and the decisive intervention of the Holy Father. I'd like to reflect on this with you and follow this order: first of all, a brief outline of the sequence of events which will provide a kind of framework of reference and indicate the essential documents; then a consideration of what happened at the congregation to bring about the personal inierventi0n of Pope Paul VI; this will enable us to look into the concerns of the Pope, and the stance and approach of the congregation; and finally, we'll try to sum up and indicate where we go from here. Sequence of Events 1) On Easter of 1972, Fr. General wrote to the pope of his intention of convoking a general congregation "during 1974 or in early 1975, and thus was cancelling the Congregation of Provincials which would have been held in 1973. Cardinal Villot replied, on April 18, 1972, in the name of the Holy Father, who was pleased that a general congregation would be convoked 33 34 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 and indicated what he considered to be important orientations. 2) On September 8, 1973, Fr. General issued his letter of convocation, setting the date of the 32nd General Congregation for December 1, 19~74. On September 15, 1973, Pope Paul VI sent an autograph letter to Ft. General in which he indicated the lines of authentic renewal in the spirit of Vatican II. 3) On November 21, 1974, Pope Paul VI received Ft. General, who gave him a copy of the postulata, along with a memorandum listing the topics which the general congregation would probably treat in accordance with the postulata and the preparatory period of the congregation. 4) The members of the 32nd General Congregation were received on December 3, 1974, by the pope, who pronounced a lengthy discourse which is the key document of the Holy See with regard to the general congregation. 5) Cardinal Villot sent a letter, dated December 3, 1974, in the name of the pope. In his meeting with the Holy Father on November 21, 1974, Fr, General had raised the possibility that the congregation in the course of its discussions might ask that the fourth vow be extended also to non-priests. Cardinal Villot's letter said that such an extension could present grave difficulties that would prevent the necessary approval of the Holy .See. 6) On January 22, 1975, the general congregation, .after serious and prolonged discussion, held an indicative vote, a sort of straw ballot, with regard to extending the fourth vow. More than two-thirds of the assembly voted affirmatively, and this was conveyed to the Holy See on the same evening. ~ 7) .P.ope Paul VI sent an autograph letter to Fr. Ge~neral on February 15, 1975, saying that the~e could be no innovation in the fourth vow and requesting that all the decrees of the congregation be forwarded to him before their publication. 8) On February 20, 1975, the pope received Fr. General. 9) On March 7, 1975, the pope received Fr. General ~nd the recently elected general assistants, and gave them a comrdunication for the con-gregation. 10) On May 2, 1975, Cardinal Villot wrote to Fr. General in the name of the pope, to authorize the publication, of the decrees of the general, con~ gregation. Along with the letter were some general norms of interpretation and particular observations on several of the decrees, The official edition of the documents of the 32nd General Congregation will contain those documents which the Holy See considers necessary .t0 evaluate: the congregation, and to assure that our religious and apostolic activities, are in conformity with the Ignatian Charism and obedient to the fatherly orientations which .the pope gave to the general congregation on different occasions. These documents are: 1 ) The H01y.Father's discourse of December 3, 1974 2)~ Cardinal Villot's letter of the same date The Holy See and~the 32nd General Congregation / 35 3) The autograph letter of Pope Paul VI on February 1 ~, 1975 4) The communication of the pope to Fr. General and the general ~. assistants on.March 7, 1975 5) The letter of Cardinal Villot on May 2, 1975, authorizing the pub- =~ lication of the documents of the congregation o The" Congregation With this background, let's consider what happened at the congregation. In its initihl stages it determined~its approach: and modus operandi. Right from the start, .it' wanted .to determine its agenda in the sense of what matters it should, treat, before launching into any particulhr question. This led to the drawing up of .a list of priorities--those matters to which the congregation wanted to direct its immediate attention. This was not meant to indicate the absOlute importance of any issue, but was rather an effort to select those items which the congregation as a whole felt it should0treat at the outset. One of these priorities dealt with the nature of formal membership in the order and such related ques~tions as differences in "grade" or official .status among members. One of the commissions formed dealt with the. matter of the grades and presented several reports to the congregation. It is to be recalled that Pope Paul VI alluded to this matter in his discourse of December 3, 1974, where he said, You are likewise priests: this too is an essential character of the Society, without forgetting the ancient and established tradition of enlisting the help of Brothers who are not~ in Sa~red Orders and who have always had an honored and effective role in the Society. Priesthood was formally required by the Founder for ali professed religious, and this with good reason, be-cause the priesthood is necessary for the Order~he instituted with the special purpose of the sanctification of men through the Word and the sacraments. o- Effectively, the sacerdotal character is required by your dedication to the ,active life--we repeat--pleno sensu. .~ In Cardinal' Villot's letter of December 3, 1974, he mentioned that the Suprrme Pontiff had studied the possibility raised: by Fr. General in the audience of November 21, 1974, of extending the fourth vow of special obedience dirca missiones to all Jesuits, including flon-priests. The Holy Father said that, after having studied the matter, such an innovation. seemed to offer grave difficulties which" would prevent the necessary ap-proval of the Holy See. This communication was sent so that it~ would be kfiown during the disCusgions of the congregation.' The congregation discussed the matter of grades seriously and at length. Several ,options were possible, e.g., make no Changes; ektend the fourth vow 'to all priests but not to .brothers; simply accept no more as spiritual coadjutors; abolish ~the distinction of grades, etc. In order to aid the com-mission in its arduous work of preparing a definite report, the congregation voted to hold an indicative vote, a straw ballot, The vote was held on 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 January 22, 1975, and a vote in excess of a two-thirds' majority in favor of suppressing the grades was the result. This was communicated to the Holy See on the same day by means of a personal messenger, Fr. General had arranged to keep the Holy See fully informed on the proceedings of the congregation. In addition to a personal messenger from the congrega-tion, the Acta and the news bulletins were sent regularly to the Holy See. The news of the indicative vote proved very disturbin~ and upsettin~ to the pope. After a report was sent to him of the reasons which led to the indicative vote, the Holy Father sent an autograph letter to Fr. General on February 15, 1975: He repeated what was in Cardinal Villot's letter of December 3, ~1974, and said that there was to be no. innovation with regard to the fourth vow. He. wanted ~no change in the Formula of the Institute. He also expressed doubt about certain .orientations and attitudes that emerged from the work of the congregation, exhorted it to reflect profoundly on its responsibilities, and asked that the decrees be sent to him before publication. ~ The congregatibn was deeply unsettled by this turn of events, and confused, It was a time that called for spiritual insight, humility and cour-age, and these qualities were not lacking. There was a situation of difficult communication and misunderstanding; a painful situation since the Holy Father himself was involved. The congregation tried to explain to him what it had intended in all loyalty. The Holy Father stated what he expected of the congregation. ~ Why Did the Congregation Treat This Matter? The question of the fourth vow is connected with the distinction of grades. It is a problem that the 32nd General Congregation had inherited from the 31st General Congregation. This latter congregation had mandated the constitution of a commission to examine the whole problem of the suppression of the grade of Spiritual Coadjutor, and also the advantages and disadvantages of granting solemn profession to Temporal Coadjutors. The commission was set up and prepared a first report which the secre, tary of the Society sent to all the provinces in 1970 as a helpful factor in deciding the VOte for calling or not calling a general congregation. Replies were expected from the province congregations on the possible options proposed in the commission's report. After the province congregations, the commission completed its work and presented a second report to the congregation of procurators in Sep-tember 1970. The 31st General Congregation had recommended the constitution.of another commission, w~ich sought to aid and stimulate the execution.of its seventh decree on Temporal Coadjutors, and also sought to clarify the profound theological aspect of the vocation to the Society of a religious who is not a priest: A complement to this activity was an International Congress The Holy See and the 32nd General Congregation / 37 of Temporal Coadjutors, the results of which were presented to the congre-gation of procurators. The congregation of Jprocurators discussed this question fully and underlined it as one calling for an urgent solution. Thus also for this pur-pose, it was fitting,that Fr. General convoke a general congregation within three to four years. After the convocation ,of the general congregation, the question of the grades, was the object of much work and study by special' groups in prepa, ration for the province congregations. The result of this intense work was the presentation of 65 postulata which directly treated the distinction of grades; and of these,,41 postulata from provinces called for the abolition of this distinction. The Commission set up by the 32nd General Congregation to deal with this question felt it was committed to study this matter, keeping in mind the letter of Pope Paul VI of September 15, 1973,,his discourse of December 3, 1974,.and Cardinal Villot!s letter of December 3, 1974. ¯ Since the problem of the distinction of grades in its totality and in the variety of its possible solutions went beyond the concession of the fourth vow, the.commission offered the congregation an accurate analysis of the postulata and the different .options possible which derived from them. Two reports were submitted which included the reactions and observations of tlie delegates. When the congregation voted on whether they should treat this question, 228 voted in favor of treating it. The commission presented its document for an initial discussion and an indicative vote on all the options. The results of the presentation and discussion were these: 1 ) ,the congregation was aware of the mind of the pope; 2) any decision of the pope would be accepted in full obedience; . 3) the congregation .wanted a full discussion of the matter, to arrive at an awareness and knowledge of the real state of the Socii~ty on this question, of the real difficulties involved, and of the possible remedies; 4) the congregation felt that if it should conclude that the only way to meet the difficulties was by the abolition of the grades, it would not only be possible but would also be.a duty on its part, in view of its responsibility to the Society, to present these difficulties to the Holy See by means of a genuine Ignatian rep.rese.ntation; 5) the congregation intended such an Ignatian representation to pre-cede any kind'of definitive act or action. The elements of a" genuine lgnatian representation were brought out. In the lived experience of the Ignatian life style, it is a primary feature of the fatherly mode of governing proper to the Society. It doeg not imply a will contrary to obedience, but rather a desire for common collaboration in the search for and discovery of the divine will.(Cf. Ex. Gen. 131; Const. 38 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/1 292, 543, 627.) It presupposes always an authentic spiritual discernment, a disposition of interior indifference, and a total openness to the ultimate decision of the superior who in this way will be better informed. The discussion in the Congregation Hall was prepared by discussions in 18 small groups, The discussion itself was long and full; some 57 speakers aired their views. The meaning of the indicative vote was solely that of giving the future work of the commission and the subsequent action .of the congregation a more concrete orientation, and avoid long and useless work. No one could predict with-any degree of probability, however, what the end result of the vote would be. This, then, was the background of the congregation's indicative vote. The pope's reaction showed that there had been a misund~rstanding,,that he was displeased, and that there was a difference of approach and stance between him and the congregation. Fr. General was received by the Holy Father on February 20, 1975, who evidenced how grieved and concerned he was at the action of the con-gregation, which did not seem to be responding to his expectations. The pope was surprised that the congregation had not understood that he had meant to exclude discussions on the fourth vow right from the beginning. His discourse of December :3rd, 1974, did not seem to have received the careful attention it should have gotten. The congregation was following a line quite different from the one he had indicated. The pope showed by concrete reference that he was reading the Acta and the bulletins. He also mentioned specific~ally that he was praying every day for the congregation and offering Mass for its success. Fr. General expressed the regrets of the congregation that the Holy Father had been so grieved, and assured the pope of the obedience of the congregation. The pope insisted on the necessity of continuing discussions with him and said he was. ready to receive the general whenever he wished. The congregation then went on to follow the pope's wishes in com-pleting the decrees. A special group of delegates was named to study the different communications of the Holy See and to see whether the points mentioned in .these communications had been treated in the various de-crees of the congregation. This led to the formulation, discussion, and en-actment of the Introductory Decree as well as to a careful treatment of the other decrees. On their completion, the decrees were submitted to the Holy Father be-fore publication and promulgation. The congregation ended on March 7, and the last of the documents reached him just after mid-March, On May 2, 1975, Cardinal Viilot wrote to Fr. General in the name of the Holy Father, authorizing the publication, of the decrees, and including general norms for interpreting,the decrees properly ~as well as particular observations on five of the decrees. The Holy See and the 32nd Geheral Congregation Against ,this background let's look into the concerns of the Holy Father, and the stance and approach of the general congregation. The Pope's Concerns 1) The pope looked beyond the Society to the effects of the congrega-tion on all religious orders and congregations, and on the whole Church. In his .letter of Septerfiber 15, 1973, he said he was well aware of the.im-portance of the congregation, which could be an hour of decision for the Society, for its future destiny and work in the Church, as it is also an hour of decision for other religious families. He repeated this in his discourse of December 3, 1974, and added, You are at the head of that interior renewal which the Church is facing in this secularized world, especially after the Second Vatican Council. Your Society-is, We say, the test of the vitality of the Church throughout the centuries; it is perhaps one of the most meaningful crucibles in which are encountered the difficulties, the temptations,, the efforts, the perpetuity and the successes of the whole Church. This view of the Pope, embracing all religious families and the Church, is a constant theme in his dealings with the 32nd General Congregation. 2) The Holy Father wanted no changes in the Formula lnstituti lulii III, and describes himself as the guardian of the essentials of our institute. In his eyes it is 'fidelity to the Formula and to the basic documents of the Society' that make it the fit instrument of service to the Church that it has been for so long a time. He favors an updating and adaptation of our insti-tute, bUt.~always in conformity with the spirit and charism of our founder. 3) The pope considered a change in the so-called "grades" as a dam-aging mutation in our Formula, one that would change the nature of the Society, particularly in its distinctive note as a presbyteral order. In his eyes it would affect our lgnatian charism. For the Holy Father, the question of the grades was connected with a thrust for promoting justice, and'this could lead to an undermining of a direct priestly ministry, could stress a political and social involvement, and bring about the involvement of more lay peopl6 in our endeavors. The tluestion of the grades was what provoked the first intervention of the pope after his initial discourse, but his concern clearly went beyond this issue, which was a manifestation of certain orientations and tendencies in the congregation which were the' real concern of the Holy Father. 4) The pope feared that the"notion of priesthood inothe congregation would not sufficiently underline the distinction between a common priest-hood and an ordained, ministerial priesthood. The move would be away from the notion of priests, "who administer the grace of God with the sacraments; priests who recei~,e thepower and have the duty to share organically in the apostolic work of sustaining and uniting the Christian community, esp'eci~lly with the celebration of the Eucharist; . . " This 40 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 could represent a drift from. a priestly order to a type of secular institute. 5) The same danger is present in the discussions on the relation between evangelization and justice. In the letter of Cardinal Villot, of May 2, 1975, there is a particular observation, about the decree on Our Mission Today: "Human development and social progress in. the temporal order should not be extolled in such exaggerated terms as to obscure the essential significance which the Church attributes to evangelization and the proclamation of the full Gospel." (This is a quote from the closing remarks of the pope to the Synod of Bishops in October 1974.) There is a danger of looking at the promotion of justice solely or most importantly in its economic, social, and political aspects. This applies to the Society in a special way since it was founded for a particularly spiritual and supernatural end. Every other undertaking should be subordinated to this end and carried out in a way appropriate for an institute which is religious, not secular, and priestly. Moreover, we must not forget that the priest should inspire lay Catholics, since in the,promotion of justice theirs is the more demanding role. The tasks "proper to each should not be confused. 6) The pope felt that the general congregation gave less attention and importance to problems touching the renewal of spiritual and religious life which is an indispensable condition for a fruitful apostolate, whereas recent years show the effects of a widespread secularization on the Society. 7) In the matter of fidelity to the Holy See, something proper to the Society, the pope felt that the congregation tUrned its attention to restricting the limits of a necessary fidelity rather than to correcting certain regrettable deviations in doctrinal and disciplinary matters during the last decade with regard to the magisterium and the hierarchy. 8) The pope felt~ that the publicity about the congregation's indicative vote on the grades put him in an unfavorable position, could seem to place him before a fait accompli, led him to a disagreeable correspondence. It should be noted here that the reports in the public press did not manifest an understanding of what the extension of the fourth vow would entail. In fact, most of them spoke of an attempt to lessen or weaken obedience, and this in spite of serious attempts to give accurate information to the press. 9) The pope had intended his December 3, 1974, discourse to serve as a program for the congregation, and was disappointed and felt that it had not received sufficient attention from the congregation. To express the matter in the spiritual shorthand of our day, the Holy Father felt that the congregation was over-emphasizing the horizontal di-mension and that there should have been more emphasis on the principles of religious and ascetical life. 10) Ultimately, the pope's concern was that the congregation and the whole Society which it represented, should be faithful to Ignatius and to itself. He judged it to :be a decisive moment for helping the Church, so prone The Holy Se'e and the 32nd General Congregation / 41 to deviations in these days, when the vast task of doing great things is still reserved to the Society of Jesus~ His concern was that we should be men of the Church. The Congregation's Stance and Approach Turning now to the congregation, the following should be noted: 1') For the congregation, the matter of the grades was a mandate from the 3 Ist Congregation, was something of real moment and interest to many in the Society, as shown by the postulata, and could.be presented to the pope in the form of an Ignatian representation. The indicative vote was no more than that. The information that was given out on the indicative vote was in the context .of informing the Society of the. work and progress of the congregation since the whole Society had been called to participate in the preparation of the congregation. As the only legislative body in the Society, the congregation felt it could supply to the Holy See, ~better than anyone else, the iinformation needed to judge the status of the grades' question in the Society. 2) In the indicative~vote for the abolition of the distinction of grades, the congregation's fundamental motivation was.based on the conviction that it'was possible t6 distinguish between the fundamental~ lgnatian charism and its concrete realization in history. The charism looked to the creation of a group capable of a generous and effective commitment to the Supreme Pontiff by an aprstolic service centered in a zealous and continuing priestly work. Its concrete realization was in a juridical structure, created by Ig-natius~ which was the distinction of grades. A decisive number of the delegates thought it possible to maintain the fundamental charism but with a different structure. The abolition of the dis-tinction of grades was 'desired, but with the conviction and under the con-dition that. the Society should remain a religious, apostolic, and sacerdotal order bound in a special way to the Supreme Pontiff. The arguments in favor of the abolition had a common presupposition, and that is the development of directives and concrete norms for a severe selection process, starting from acceptance into the novitiate andcontinuing through the~succeeding probations. Along with legislation for the future, transition~ai norms would have been required to provide for the juridical and personal situation of those already in th6 Society. 3) The congregation looked on its response to the Holy Father's reply on the grades as an act of full, mature obedience given by a group of men acting according .to Ignatian obedience, predisposed to accept whatever the decision of the pope might be. 4) It is true to say that the congregation considered things .from the point of view of the apostolate and apostolic needs, but this did not entail a neglect in treating the principles of religious and ascetical life, or rele- Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/1 gating this to a secondary status. When examining the questions of religious and ascetical life, the congregation found that its predecessor, the 31st Congregation, had done this very well and felt no need to ~'epeat.what had been well articulated. The 32nd Congregation would confirm what its predecessor had enacted. 5) The congregation felt that horizontalism is indeed a central note, but need not oppose a vertical dimension. It would rather express an enduring consciousness of the needs of man and a desire to respond to them. In its initial stages, the congregation discussed a so-called "priority of priorities., Some, unfortunately, thought that the congregation had chosen the promotion of justice as the "priority of priorities," for the Society and her apostolate. ~ This was not true and led to misunderstandings. The con-gregation chose as the priority of priorities the criteria for the apostolic service of the Society and the promotion of justice, per modum unius. The congregation accented the "service of faith. The promotion of justice is intimately connected with this, but it is quite different from transforming the whole end of the Society into the promotion of justice. It is true to say that ~oncern for the dimension, promotion of justice, accompanied the work of the congregation whether it dealt with our life or our apostolate. The congregation underlined and emphasized the dimension, service of faith, precisely to correct and counteract a socioeconomic tendency in an exclusive sense. The thrust of the congregation was towards a healthy inte-gration of the religious and social dimensions of our Jesuit mission. 6) As an aid to understand the actions of the congregation, it is important to recall that there is little continuity from one congregation to the next as far as the participants are concerned. Each general congregation has a substantially different membership. In the group from the United States, only two or three had previous experience at,a general congregation. The role of the general at a congregation not called to elect a new general is not understood by all. He has an obvious leadership function, but he is subordinate to the congregation, is a member of ,it, and cannot impose his views on it. ~ It should be noted that Fr. General's example during the congregation was as of a tower of strength, a real source of unity for the participants. The activities of the congregation .forged a bond of solid t~nity between Fr. General and the members of the congregation. In spite of some groundless rumors, there was never any mention of resignation during the congrega-tion. 7) The congregation did obey the Holy Father in what were ~difficult circumstances, aggravated by an absence of dialogue and a growing fatigue. Obedience was shown by integrating into the texts of the decrees and declarations, suggestions and amendments in line with the pope's directives. 8) The special group set up to study .the communications of the Holy See to see whether the principal points were covered in the documents of The Holy See and the 32nd General Congregation / 43 ,the congregation, judged that they were covered, but the congregation went on to draft ano Introductory Decree due to the work of this special group. , .9) The,congregation sought a document which would put in modern-day terms~what the Formula lnstituti means today. This meant translating the propagation and defense of the faith, and the works of mercy, into what these t~rms mean" for us today. It was in this way that the congregation showed its commitment to and interest in the Formula lnstituti and our other basic documents. The congregation's approach was to study this matter during the con-gregation and put together a document little by little in the light of the dis-cussions. To some this could seem to be relegating this matter to a gecondary role,-but the congregation's mind was to make it a more meaningful docu-ment, to present the Formula in a vigorous statement ]or today's Jesuits .and today's mission. 10) The congregation was a lived experience of the complexity of relations with theHoly See. The ai~alysis we have been d6ing can seem clear and easy now. It was not quite the same during the congregation-itself. The clarity has ~come through prayer, reflection, soul-searching, and a form of frank exchange that was not always this way iw the past. Let me attempt to sum up something of what we've seen, with a few pointers for the future. -- Interventions of popes in general congregations are not unheard of. What is unusual with regard to the 32nd General Congregation is the per-sonal and continuing aspect of the intervention of Pope Paul VI. We have seen that, as far back as 1972, the pope was interested in the general congregation; his interest increased as the congregation grew nearer and continued right through the sessions of the congregation. He read the documents personally before allowing them to be published, and he shall certainly be interested in the implementation of the decrees. His statement, .given at different times, has been, "Show your fidelity by your actions." This~has~been a personal and direct interest on the part of the Holy Father himself and 'not handed over to one of his staff. In his eyes the congregation was to fulfill 'a: very important function for religious life. In his letter of September 15, 1973, and in his discourse .of December 3, 1974, the Holy Father's idea was to.set out a program and an approach for the congregation. There 'should be an effective renewal and proper adaptation in accord with Vatican II, but this could not follow a line that would be alien t6 the very character of the religious family, un-faithful to the charism of the founder, or that would lead to the abandon-ment of the primary values of a life consecrated to God. The common elements of religious life should be confirmed, and allowed to grow and develop. These elements are the following: the imitation of Christ as pro-posed in the gospel; the renunciation of worldly things so that the religious 44 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume,35, 1976/1 might live for God alone, and for the building up of the Church; a joyful and constant observation of the vows which should lead to the heights of the spiritual life, where contemplation is joined with magnanimous action. For the Society of Jesus this means a fidelity to its tradition based on Christ, the Church, and St. Ignatius. The congregation, therefore, was to attend to those principles of the spiritual and apostolic life which for cen-turies formed the structure holding the Society of Jesus together and made it a most serviceable instrument for the pastoral, missionary, and educa-tional apostolates, involving a cultural formation, of the highest excellence. The source of strength for the Society should be the foundations of religious formation, laid in the past. These are: a diligent, dedication to prayer; austerity of life; supernatural strength by which apostolic effective-ness is increased; complete observance of the vows, especially obedience, which 'is peculiar to the Society and a condition of its religious discipline; the ascetical value of community life and the advantage.s it offers for the formation of character; and, in a special way, fidelity to the Holy See. This was the program that Pope Paul VI traced for the.general congre-gation of an order that is religious, apostolic, sacerdotal~ and bound to the Holy Father by a special bond of love and service. ~ It was not clear to the majority of the delegates that this was intended to be the lines of a 'hard and fast program. It gradually became clear, after the ditiiculties arising from the treatment of the question of the grades, and after a good bit of discussion and reflection, Some had felt this from the beginning, but they were few in number. The congregation found that the 31st Congregation had treated the matter of prayer, the vows, and the principles of religious, and ascetical life, very well. The problem was one of execution rather than of articulation, and the 32nd General Congregation decided to confirm and renew the 31st Congregation. But this could seem to be neglecting these principles, or relegating them to a secondary place. Through his interventions, the Holy Father impressed on the congrega-tion the direction he wanted to be' followed. The congregation obeyed and followed this direction; and in his communication of March 7, 1975, the pope said that it was comforting to see that the congregation well under-stood the force and meaning of what he urged and that they accepted .his intervention in a spirit of cooperation. In all his communications; the Holy Father ,underlines the point~ that his actions are motivated by his deep affection for and attachment to the Society, and by his appreciation .of the role that the Society has played in the past and is to play in the future. Thus, he feels, that.he can,be frank in his remarks. I think that most preferred a frank and open exchange, rather than the circumlocutions of a diplomatic style of writing, Cardinal Villot's letter of May 2, 1975, conveyed the pope,s own observations on the decrees~ These are meant to assure the faithful imple- The Holy See and the 32nd General Congregation / 45 mentation of the decrees. When several articles appeared in the Italian press which put the May 2nd letter in a negative light with regard to the congregation, the Holy See sent the Italian text of the letter, to help correct these false impressions, The pope could truly say that the congregation had not achieved the global result expected of it. When we realize his plans for the congregation, we can understand this. But it does not express a negative vote on the congregation. It indicates that there is work yet to be done; the decrees are to be put into execution, and this should be in accord with the pope's directives, especially those in the discourse of December 3, 1974. As Cardinal Villot says in his letter of May 2, 1975, the pope directed that the decrees be returned to Fr. General so that they can be put into effect according to the needs of the Society, with the hope that Jesuits may draw strength from these decrees as they continue their progress in genuine fidelity to the charism of St. Ignatius and the Formula of the Institute. We are called on to enter into the views that animated Pope Paul VI. The quality of our religious life is to be such as to serve as a safeguard against a continually threatening secularism. The priestly character of the Society is of particular and enduring importance and must be a part of all our apostolic choices. There is much work to be done in reflecting on the integration of our priestly nature and evangelization in religious life, in reflecting on our specific way of living and being apostles. ¯ We are called to reflect on and' revise our behavior with regard to the service of the ecclesiastical magisterium, to revise the sense of our presen-tation and faithful explanation of the declarations of the magisterium and o1~ the hierarchy. We are ca/led to be men of the Church. The work ahead of us is to study, assimilate, interiorize, and put into action the decrees of the congregation, with an eye to the pope's fatherly observations . and directives. We must avoid two extremes: not attending to the Holy Father's observations; .and dismissing the validity and relevance of the decrees of the 32nd General Congregation. The final word belongs 4(0 Pope Paul VI. He told us to carry on in nomine Domini, Evolution in Chapters William F. Hogan,, C.S.C. Father Hogan is an Agsistant General of his congregation, as well as Procurator General. He lives at Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma, Italy. The last fifteen years have seen great differences in the general and pro-vincial or regional chapters of most religious communities; in fact, for many of them, this period has seen the real beginnings of .chapters as such. In not a few congregations, indeed in most, the Opening and closing° dates of chapter meetings were decided before the capitulants assembled, thus often precluding any real in-depth study of issues and evaluation of the religious life and mission. Frequently the chapters were conducted like superiors' meetings, with decisions being handed down from the president as faits accomplis for information or perhaps ratification. The principal business was usually the election of major superiors and councils, .and it was more common than rare that provinces or regions'~did not have their own pro-vincial or regional chapters outside participation in the general chapter. Chapters evolved slowly in religious institutes from the time of Pacho-mian cenobitism when the monks gathered at Pabau in the month of August and the superiors gave a report on the condition of their houses and new superiors were appointed. St. Benedict instituted the local or con-ventual chapter in his rule, although he doesn't use this term; the whole community of the professed was to be consulted on important matters and was involved in the choice of the abbot. Other monastic groups followed suit and there eventually arose the policy of "what touches all is to be approved by all," a principle later included in the Rules o/Law at the time of Pope Boniface VIII. Regional and general chapters find their formal beginnings in the Carta Caritatis (1119) of the Cistercians, even though there had previously been regional meetings of abbots in order to have uni- 46 Evolution in Chapters / 47 formity in the religious life. The Cistercian order by rule was obliged to hold annual meetings of the abbots of the order and to regulate

Issue 35.4 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edtted by faculty members of St Louis University, the edttorlal offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 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 © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $1.5.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Book Editor Assistant Editor July 1976 Volume 35 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of .address should be sent to REvx~w FOR RELmiOVS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REviEw vOa RELmIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; .Phil'adelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. "Jesuits Today" Horacio de la Costa, S.J. Father de la Costa wrote the March contribution to'our series on the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, "A More Authentic Poverty." He resides at Xavier House; P. O. Box 2722; Manila 2801; Phil!ppines. ' Just. before it adjourned, the 32nd General ~Congregation of the Society o[ Jesus arrived at a clear and distinct,idea of why it had met. This realiza-tion is expressed.in its In~troductory Dec.rce,~ which, being introductory, ~was of course taken up last. The decree makes several points. First, that the congregation immedi-ately, preceding, the 31st, sought toadapt Jesuit life to the directives of the Second Vatican Council. Second, that it did so in documents which '~ccuraiely and faithfully.~ express the genuine spirit and tradition of the Society." Third, that during the decade that followed, "significant" success attended the effort to reduce these documents to practice. Fourth, that that success Was circumscribed by "two exaggerations, each tending in an op-posite direction," the one a resistance, to renewal as being "somehow a de-parture from the genuine Ignatian spirit," ~the other an adaptation of Jesuits and their work to the needs of the world w.hich is excessix, e,,,and in fact "runs counter tom the .Gospel message." Fifth, that these conflicting tend-encie~ not only "threatened unity within the Society," but gave "cause for concern" both to the superior general of. the order and to the Pope. And hence, sixth, that the aim of the 32nd General Congregation was, by recog-nizing and removing these exaggerations, to achieve "a balanced renewal of 0religious life and a discerning re-dedication to apostolic service." A~ congregation delegate put it more imaginatively by saying that the 31st General Congregation had launched a satellite, to which the 32nd then 481 4a2 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/4 proceeded to transmit certain course corrections, its intention being not to modify, much less to reverse its trajectory, but rather to focus it more ac-curately on its moving target. And that, while engaged in this exercise, the said congregation received a fairly strong input from the Vatican com-puters. The focus which the congregation decided to give the 'Society today centers on the concept of mission. More than ever before, mission--the act or state of being sent--must be a key element of the Jesuit's self-iden-tity. "A Jesuit . . . is essentially a man on a mission: a mission which he receives immediately from the Holy Father and from his own religious su-periors, but ultimately from Christ himself, the one sent by the Father. It is by being sent that the Jesuit becomes a companion ot~ Jesus.''1 Well, then, what is the mission on which Jesuits are being sent today? Considering only the multiplicity of works in which Jesuits are actually en-gaged, and leaving aside the multiplicity of works in which they think they should be engaged, it covers a very wide range indeed. But are these works merely a miscellany chosen at .random, a collection without internal co-hesion? Or is there some unifying, some integrating factor-pulling them together in a convergent thrust? The congregation decided that if there isn't there should be, and that it should be the service of faith and the pro-motion of justice considered as complementary facets of an undivided whole. "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.'''~ This is the "basic choice," the "priority of priorities" for the Society at which the congregation arrived. How did it arrive at it? It may be well to consider this briefly, to consider not only the product, but the process by which it was produced. The product is this handful of documents which .~esuits are supposed to translate from words to action; to bring to iife in their lives. Well and good. The trouble is that they are texts, and legisla-tive texts at that. Paragraphs On parade, marching down page after page in neatly numbered companies, footnotes following after like a baggage train; all spick-and-span, i's dotted and t's crossed, treadling the measured tread of ecclesiastical Latin. Parade-ground texts, remot~ely reminding us of a battle, butobearing only a faint resemblance to a battlefield. ~ How can we make these texts come alive? Would it help to have re-course to one of Saint Ignatius' little devices for making things come alive? "First prelude, the history of what I am about to contemplate. Second pre-lude, a composition of place. Here it will be to see with the eyes of the imagination . '"~ Very well; and what will it be here? Perhaps, to try to see these texts as people; the people who produced them; the congregati 1GC 32, "Jesuits .Today," n. 14. :GC 32, "Our Mission Today," n. 2. 3Spi~ritual Exercises, n. 102. "Jesuits Today" / 4113 whom the Society sent to Rome to discern what its response should be to the call of Christ. See them there in that hall on Holy Spirit Street--Borgo Santo Spirito --men from widely different national, cultural, occupational, experiential backgrounds, who, in trying to fulfill their brothers' commission, strove strenuously not only with each other but with themselves, and in the pro-cess got confused, enlightened, dismayed,_ heartened, disheartened; lost courage and regained it; got bored, doodled, dreamed of home; went to the Gesfi to celebrate the Eucharist; got an insight; tried it out on a couple of companions over a plate of pasta and a flagon of Frascati; and finally ar-rived at the consensus congealed in these texts. We must not, then, be deceived by the asceptic neatness of these docu-ments. They are the fai'r cop, y of whai:at first looked like an illegible scrawl, but; in the end,. surprisingly, made sense. If God writes straight with crooked lines, then the g.roping and searching, the backing and filling, the findin.g and losing, the consolations and desolations which filled the house on Holy Spirit Stri~et with tongues of fire disguised as will-o'-the-wisps were the crooked lines with which God wrote straight for Jesuits; and it may help to see how straight God has written if we have some idea of how crooked were the lines. I am not, of course, suggesting that the congregati thought crooked. QO the contrary; the~y were straight-thinking, straight-shooting men. The trouble was that the targets they were shooting at seemed to weave wantonly from side to side, and sometimes to disappear altogether. I think most of them will agree that there was hardly a moment during the congregation when they were not in one way or another confused: confused by the ap-palling diversity of the Society's apostolic initiatives and commitments; con-fused by the added complication that Jesuits are inserted {hus variously in a world iri process of rapid change; confused by tensions old and new, in the Society and outside it, between generations, between the backward-looking and the forward-looking, between innovation and tradition, be-tween development and liberation, between ideology and praxis, between capita!ism and socialism, between the two sides of the Iron Curtain, between East and West. A confusion so great that if a consensus emerged--as it did --it is more than likely that that straight line was drawn not by the hand of man.but by the finger of God. The consensus is what is embodied in our text~; and what I am really trying t'o say, I suppose, is that to appreciate the consensus it is necessary to have some idea of the confusion that preceded it. The Introductory Decree speaks of "two exaggerations, each tending in an opposite direction," which "have threatened the unity of the Society.''~ 4n. 4. 41~4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 One cannot say that the exaggerations themselve~ ~vere present at the con-gregation., but one might suggest that the tendencies they exaggerat~ were. The congregation seems to have brought into confrontation two radically different ways of thinking about the Society ~nd its mission, so different as to seem irreconcilable. One approach was conservative, traditional, back-ward- looking; the other was radical, inno.vati~;e, forward-looking. In Commission I on the Norms of the ApoStolate, Commission II on the Missiofi of the Society, and Commission IV on the Promotion of Jus-tice, what the "radicals" seemed to be saying was this: "Let's start from the facts'. Let's" look at what has to be done in th~ world and let's do that. What kind of work? Never mind what kind o,f work, as long as it works! We must do only 'Jesuit' works? There are no 'Jesuit' works! What does Pedro Arrup~e say? 'Jesuit identity ~s to have no identity!' " To which the "conservatives" seemed to r~eply: "Now, wait. You can't possibly mean that. ~'ou can't possibly mean that there is no specifically Jesuit apostolate. There must be something 'Jesuit' a Jesuit is supposed to do. Start with the facts? What facts? Real facts, or what are alleged to be facts by those who have already de,ideal ffhat they want to do? Let's not start with such facts. Let's start with something more certain and secure: the Formula of the Institute, the Constitutions, the Spiritual Exercises, the directives of Paul VI. Let's reflect on what the~, say we should be doing, and let's do that. There are others in the Church ahd in the world ~;~o c/an do the rest, and do it better. What does John Janssens say? 'We can-not be Divine Providence.' " Two approaches to the apostolate. Two "niind-sets," each convinc6d that"it was i'ight and the other wrong. And so there was debate. No need to pl~y down the fact that there was debate: a cl~ish of argument' on a corn= mon ground of discourse. It will not do to give ttiis congregation the image of a group of gi-6wn men politely bowing to each other and saying, "Ah, so? That is what you think? How nice! Thank y.ou very much!" And each or~e going off, as the poet says, "eonvinced against~ his will, but of the same opinion still." A "confrontation, then, conducted for the. most. part with sweet reason-ableness, but not without sound and fury. Such at least was the impression given by couriers to the staff officers of the Deputatio ad Secernenda Pos-tulata (the commission to validate initiatives taken by Jesuits, individually or corporately, for consideration of the co.ngi'egation), standing on.their rise o~ ground ab.o~ve the smoke of battle: Committee Room P, fourth floor. But when the smoke of battle cleared, and the field glasses went up to sur-vey the sh~m. bles, it became visible even to the naked eye that,what began a's a confrontati6n had turned out to be a convergence. What happened? Some would say that debate had given way to discern-ment, It may well be. 1 do not know enough about discernment to be cer-tain. My personal observation is that as the~congregation progressed people "Jesuits Today" / 485 were listening more to each other, and were more inclined to question not only those from whom they differed, but themselves. Thus: We must promote justice. That is the conclusion imposed by the facts. Yes; but what is justice? What do I really mean by it? Or rather, what does the Gospel say it is? , Or again: The. Formula of the Institute says that we are a society founded for the .defense and propagation of the faith, Yes; but how do you defend and propagate the faith? By word alone? Also by wit'ness? What kind of witness? What kind of witness in a divided' world? And further: Jesuits in the developed world must be chiefly concerned with secularism, with the~ marginalization of Christianity in societies an-ciently Christian. Jesuits in the underdev.eloped world, on the other hand, must be chiefly concerned with underdevelopment, with' the marginalization of the powerless in unjust societies. Certainly; but are these two phenomena completely distinct? Or are they somehow related? How related? And finally: Take a look at the Constitutions, Part VII, where Saint Ignatius lays down his norms for the selection of ministries: the more uni-versal good, the more lasting good;,.help to those most in need of help, works that have a "multiplier" effect, spiritual works by preference, but corporal works if more urgent. Apply these norms to our moment of his-tory, and what do you corne up with? ~ . It was by some such process of shared reflection that the two mind-sets we have described discovered, initially to their discomfiture, increas~ ingle, to their delight, that they were saying the same thing. More precisely, that they were in the same boat; rowing, ,bailing, or busily polishing brass, but in the same boat, with Diakonia Fidei (Service of Faith) stenciled on the port side and' Promotio lustitiae on the starboard side. ,A pretty rocky boat, to be' sure; not quite,rigged and already slightly battered; with cracks to be sealed, sails to be set, a course to be charted; but one boat, not two planks from a shipwreck. And not completely at .sea, either; for we now have, by this callida.iunctura of faith and justice, a focus to our apostolate, a destination for our mission. The convergence can be more clearly seen by juxtaposing nn. 4 and 10 of the document "Jesuits Today" and nn. 2 and 3 of the document "Our Mission Today." We arrive at this basic choice' from several different points of departure. The postulata received from the provinces, the panorama of the state of the Society presented at the congregation, and the suggestions given us .by the PoPe, ~all direct our .attention to the vast expanse, and circuit of this globe and the great multitude and diversity of peoples therein . We are con-firmed in this basic choice by being led to it from another point of departure, namely; the original inspiration of the Society as set ~forth in the Formula of the Institute hnd the Constitutions . 486 / Review]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith~ of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement . In one form or another, this has always been the mission of the Society; but it gains new meaning and urgency in the light of the needs and aspirations of the men of our time, and it is in that light that we embrace it anew. Put that way, it sounds pretty obvious. The point, however, is that when the congregation began it was by no means obvious; that it became obvious by a convergence of two different approaches in a process of interaction; and that this convergence was, for many in the congregation, a discovery. Closely allied to the problem of what Jesuits do is the problem of what Jesuits are. There was a far greater number of postulata from the provinces concerning the first problem than concerning the second. However, there were enough for the Deputatio ad Secernenda Postulata to decide to form an Intercommission on Jesuit Identity. Why an "intercommission"? For two reasons, First, because its members were recruited from the regular commissions which had already been formed. Second, because the Deputatio's instructions were that this group should be a link between the other commissions; or rather, a listening post, lis-tening in on all of them to pick up and put together what they were saying that could have a bearing on Jesuit identity. But why did the question of identity come up at all? What gave rise to the postulata on the subject? One reason might have been the feeling that many of those who leave the Society do so because they no longer have, perhaps never had, a clear idea of what it is to be a Jesuit, or why they should be Jesuits rather than something else. Or else, the concern that we are engaging in all sorts of development work, justice promotion, political action, and other efforts to build up a more human world, but doing so according to the norms, ideals, and procedures of secular agencies or move-ments engaged in the same enterprise; in effect, that we are identifying our-selves with them instead of making the' original, the unique contribution we are called upon to make as an apostolic, religious, sacerdotal body. Which, incidentally, is what the.more reflective among the secular humanists them-selves expect us to make. They don't expect us to do0what they are already doing: They expect us to do "our thing." But what is "our thing"? We do not seem to be quite clear on that. This intercommission, then, was told to do something about the problem, but it was also very distinctly told that it was not to make up "Jesuit iden-tity" oui of its own head. It was by all means to avoid being creative. Its job was simply to find out what the congregation itself was saying about Jesuit identity, explicitly or imlSlicitly, in the course of its deliberations on mission, formation, poverty, government, community lift; and if it succeeded in drafting a statement on the subject, to sub/nit the draft to the congrega-tion for approv~il. The result is the document entitled "Jesuits Today." An earlier title, "Jesuit Identity," was rejected by the congregation, and "Jesuits Today" / 4117 rightly so. This document is in no sense a formal definition of the Society or of the Jesuit. It is simply a descriptive summary of some of the attributes that may serve to identify Jesuits both to themselves and to others. Even as a description it is certainly not definitive, for Jesuit identity, like that of any other personality, is, first of all, elusive; it cannot be pinned down or exhaustively catalogued in any statement. And it is elusive chiefly because it is in [ieri, in process of becoming: the identity of a living and growing thing which keeps changing while remaining itself. Some future congrega-tion will doubtless find it necessary to draw up another statement of Jesuit identity. That is why it was finally decided to call this document simply "Jesuits Today." As the effort at self-understanding of persons who do not take them-selves too seriously, it was given, inevitably, other, less formal titles. "Cari-dent: the toothpaste with Formula 32, a special blend of charism and iden-tity, guaranteed to enhance that dazzling, distinctive Jesuit smile." "ldenti-kit." the police portrait of the mystery man going around holding up people and asking them, 'Who am I?' " But "identikit" is not just a gibe. It contains a thought of Father Arrupe's which he expressed to the Intercommission on Identity~ I hope I may be forgiven for paraphrasing it here. A photograph of Jesuit identity is not possible, only an approximate likeness, as in an identikit. Why? Interiorly, spiritually, we do have an iden-tity:, the Ignatian spirit, insofar as we live it. But exteriorly, apostolically, what is Jesuit identity? It is to have no identity. We have no specifically Jesuit ministries, as other religious institutes might have: not education, not social action, not parishes, not this or that form of action or contemplation, 'but only what here and now God wants done. The document begins with the first and most obvious clue to a Jesuit's identity: his name: Jesuitbsomeone who pertains to, who belongs to, Jesus. Everyone knows how tenaciously Saint Ignatius clung to that name. Nothing could induce him to change it, This complete certitude that he and his company are something that belong to Jesus seems to be based on the spiritual experience Ignatius had at La Storta, a.wayside chapel just outside Rome. He was making his way to Rome from the north on foot, and all the way he was praying to Our Lady that he might be "placed with the Son." Arrived at La Storta, he had this vision, or enlightenment, or insight, in which the Eternal Father asks Jesus carrying his cross to take this pil-grim into his company. And Jesus accepts him. It is interesting that in all this the Lord is not called Christ but Jesus. Jesus, his personal name. Which suggests that for Ignatius being "placed with the Son" meant entering into a personal relationship with him, a rela-tionship of personal love. This is confirmed by the fact that when his com-panions asked him what our Lord's words to him ("I shall be propitious to you at Rome") meant, Ignatius replied with great joy, "I don't know. Maybe it means we shall b~ crucified with him in Rome!" A love relation- 488 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 ship, then, not just between servant and master, not just between soldier and cat~tain, but between sinner and Savior. This brings us to what the document sees as another clue to Jesuit iden-tity. The Jesuit is a man who has come to a vivid realization not only of his sinful acts but of his isinfulness; and with equal vividness has come to realize that his conversion, his turning back to God, began not with him but with Jesus: the saving love of Jesus reaching out to him, in his sinful-ness. "You did not choose me; no, I chose ~,ou.'''~ If, then, the Jesuit is' one who, following Ignatius, asks to be placed with Jesus, it is because he is responding to love: the love of Jesus which, beyond,all expectation, antici-pates and seeks his love. His response is that of the converted sinner. These are the two related thoughts with which the document begins: "What is it to be a Jesuit? It is to know that one is a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus.''G There was some objection at the congregation~'to beginning the docu-ment with" this confession of sinfulness, this "beating, of breasts." It was thought to be overacting~ or over-reacting to the alleged Jesuit.propensity to arrogant ~triumphalism. Does this show.of humility really counteract that impression--if, indeed, it is the impression Jesuits give? Is it not, in fact, a kind of triumphalism in reverse? Why not simply ~and immediately focus on the central element of Jesuit. identity, that of being socius lesu: the com-panion of Jesus, the man who has answered the call of the Eternal King? Perhaps. But the point is that that is not how~Ignatius began. And that is not how the Spiritual Exercises begin. Ignatius the Jesuit begins with what James Brodrick calls the "pilgrim years," when this wandering penitent signed his letters "Ignacio pecador": Ignatius, sinner. And the Exercises begin not with 'the Meditation on the Kingdom but with the First Week: with the effort to realize thfit the love of Jesus has reached out to me in my sinfulness. They begin, in fact, even before that. They .begin with the First Principle and Foundation: with the love of Jesus reaching out to me in my nothingness; by the act of creation choosing me out of nothing. That in the. mind of Ignatius it is-Jesus who does this, is suggested by the fact that both in the Exercises and the Con-stitutions there is constant attribution to the Second Person incarnate not only the title of Savior but of tfiat of Creator. The next few paragraphs of the document: bring out what seems to be another essential i~ngredient of Jesuit identity. It is outward-looking more than it is inward-looking. After his conversion, the Jesuit fixes his gaze not so much on what goes on in tlie soul within him ~at on what goes on in the world around him. We are all familiar with the popular (and, one hopes, .~Jn 15.16. G"Jesuits Today," n. Ol. 7nh. 4-9. "Jesuits Today" / 4119 distorted) image of the Jesuit as a worldling, inclined to involve himself in mundane affairs which are none of his business; conducting himself in a manner far removed from the popular (and equally distorted) image of the "man of the cloth" as so completely wrapped up in, things divine that he cannot even change a blown fuse when the lights go out. Well; let's face it. There is an element of truth in this. We will find it in the initial response of the converted sinner as expressed in the key colloquy of the First Week of' the Exercises: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ?. What must I do for Christ?" What to do. What, and where, is the action. This is not the initial response of other types or schools of spirituality. By way of contrast, we might paraphrase a passage from the Chinese phi: losopher Mencius, of which', surely, there are echoes in the Western world: Yoti wish to find God? God is in the heavens, .the infinite heavens. But the infinite heavens are reflected in a small pool deep.in a,well-~-the well of your soul. Plunge, then, into your soul, and there find God. But that is not what the Jesuit does.~ What the Jesuit does.is go into the Second Week of the.Exercises. There he hears Christ calling for-com-panions to go with him to conquer the~world,s There ~he looks up to God in his .Trinity of persons and finds their gaze also, fixed on the world, whose salvation they are d~ciding to accomplish? There,.he, sees Christ choosing mento send into the world to proclaim his sacred tehching,to persons ot~ every class and calling.~° From which it appears that the Jesuit instinct (or charism) is not to withdraw from the world to be~alone with God, but rather to turn to the world and ask himself, "Wh~t~ can Io do for God. in this world in whose midst I am, and to which I am sent?" This would seem to be the force of Saint Ignatius; assertion that the grace,by which the Jesuit is driven to serve men is identical with the grace by which he achieves his pe~:sonal salvation.1~ Or, as our document puts,it: "The grace of Christ that enables ~nd impels us to seeko'the salvation~and perfection.of souls' or what might be called in contemporary terms the integral liberation of man, leading to participation in the life, of God himself is the same grace by which we are enabled and impelled to seek 'our own salvation and perfection.' ,,1~ It was suggested earlier that "Jesu.its Today." is an "echo" document, echoing in the key of identity what the other documents of the congregation say about mission, compa~nionsh]p, freedoha, dis~ernment,~ and love. The emphasis ,on mission: that the Jesuit is essentially a man who is sent by Christ through the mediation ot~ those who hold Christ's authority, is clearly an echo of the document "Our Mission Today." 8Spir. Ex., n. 95. .~lbid., nn. 106-107. aOlbid., n. 145. a~General Examen, n. 3. ~-~"Jesuits Today," n. 1~1. 490 / Review for Religious, °l~'olume 35, 1976/4 The emphasis on companionship: that the Jesuit is essentially a com-panion, a companion of Christ first, but in Christ also of those whom he has called to the same companionship, is similarly an echo of the document on "Union of Minds and Hearts." The emphasis on freedom: that the Jesuit is essentially a man who is free, or rather, a man who has been set free, and this, paradoxically, by the vows that bind him, is an echo, at least in part, of the document on Poverty. The attitude towards the vows here brought out as characteristi-cally Jesuit is that they are not meant to enclose a man, to protect him from the world, to pluck him from the madding crowd and wall him up in some pleasance of peaceful contemplation--in the matchless phrase of Fray Luis de Le6n~ ~'la escondida senda por donde han ido/los pocos sabios que en el ~mundo hart sido"---but to detach him; to hack away from him all en-cumbering armor, and thus to free him from the constraints that may hold him back from any service in the world that Christ working in the world may require of him. The emphasis on discernment: that obedience for the Jesuit not only permits but demands discretion, is an echo, again, ,both of "Our Mission Today" and "Union of Minds and Hearts." It recalls Ignacio Iparraguirre's dictum that the Constitutions are not so much law-book as guide-book, and Pedro Arrupe's oft-repeated saying that being told what to do does not exempt us from the necessity of discerning how to do. In thi~ connection, it is surely significant that the command "to water a dry stick, or "to bring a lioness unto him (the superior)" of the Ignatius/Polanco Letter on Obedi-ence does not include detailed instructions on where to get the water or how to persuade the lioness. And, finally, the emphasis on love: that the Jesuit is essentially a man moved by a personal love for the personal Christ, is an echo not of any particular document but of what might be called the La Storta insight, which seems to have been recaptured, to a greater or less degree, by so many of the delegates to this congregation. As Father General Arrupe, bouncing up the back stairs of the house on Holy Spirit Street after breakfast one morning, put it to one of them, sleepily drifting down: "We proclaim the Gospel in poverty and humility-- fine. But perhaps to add: in love. There is much concern today about loving the Mystical Christ, seeing and serving him in our fellow men, espe-cially the poor; and that is good. But if we do this, is it not because we love Christ in himself, in his Person? Is it not because each of us, pilgrims with Ignatius, prays to the Father 'ponerme con el Hijo' (place me with the Son)?" Which obiter dictumomay serve to explain why our document says: "In love: a personal love for Jesus, whom we seek to know with an ever more inward knowledge that we may the better love and follow him; Jesus, whom "Jesuits Today" / 491 we seek, as Saint Ignatius Sought, to experience; Jesus, Son ot~ God, sent to serve, sent to set free, put to death, and risen from the dead.''~3 There is a lack of definition in what the document says about the So-ciety as a priestly body.TM It strongly asserts the elements which make up this attribute: that the core, as it were, of our membership is a group of brdained priests; that the vocation .to the Society is one; that it is the whole body of the Society that is priestly; and, consequently, that all its members share in that priestly attribute, even those who are not ordained ministers" of the Gospel. But as to the precise nature of that participation the document says nothing. This reflects pretty much the state of the question as the con-gregation left it. The general sentiment was that further theological reflec-tion was needed to say anything more on the subject, and it was hoped that this reflection would form a vital part of our ongoing renewal of spirit. If we now take a look at the document as a whole, we will notice that it has a certain quality of movement: this movement being, basically, that of the Spiritual Exercises. In other words, Jesuit identity is conceived not as state but as process. Companionship with Jesus begins with conversion: the realization that having been called to life by God Creator, then estranged from him by sin, I have been recalled to life by God Redeemer. This realization draws me to stand before (~hrist crucified and make my first oblation: What will I do for Christ? The First Week. Hard upon this conversion comes the call of Christ the King: "I want you to b~come my companion, and the companion of these Others whom I have also called." To do what, Lord? "To be sent, as I was sent. Into the world; not away from it. This world, your world; in all its diversity, agony, tragedy, hope: Sent to share with people the saving faith I have shared with you, and in my justice to reconcile men to God and men with each other." My response to which is my second oblation, the~Kingdom obla-tion: to bring Christ to men not by the witness of word alone but by the witness of life: in poverty, humility, and love. The Second Week. What is 'the range of this oblation? It involves all that the apostolate involves--for Jesus as well as those Who have asked to be'placed with him. Some' experience of success, certainly, and an abiding serenity; but also frustration, b~trayal, defeat, nakedness to p~in. An oblation to failure. An oblation t6 the CrosS. The Third Week. But out of the depths of failure, joy. The joy of total and mutual self-giving: Jesus to me, myself to Jesus. Day by day joyfully going to ttie work site with God the Workingman--habet se ad modum laborantis to build a world at once more human and more divine. My third oblation. Take and receive. 131bid., n. 27. 14Cf. ibid., nn. 21-22. The Freedom and Detachment of Submission Sister Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine last published in our pages in the March, 1976 isstie of Review for Religious. She resides at 808 Cypres.s St.; Rome, NY 13440. ' In his Asian-Journal, under a November 19 entry, Thomas Merton speaks of three doors which he posits as desirable for the eschatological pilgrim to enter: "the door of emptiness, the door without sign, the door without wish."' And in an earlier work of his, C~ontemplation in d Worl~l~of Action, Merton tells of the internal spiritual liberation which such surrender of self brings: ". a kind of permanent vacation in the original sense of 'emptying.' ''~ Perhaps it would be fitting for each of us in our individual lives to pon-der the possibility of taking a "vacation" through these three rather unin-viting doors. ~ Father JohnoQ. Haughey, S.J., in his most recent.book Should Anyone Say Forever? recounts a pos~sible interpretation of the statement of Jesus in Matthew 7:13-14 where he tells his disciples to "enter by the narrow gate" since this alone "leads to life." Father Haughey says: "The narrow gate Jesus was alluding to probably refers to the gate in Jerusalem which could only ~accommodate people unaccompanied by their possessions and camels and donkeys.''3 If we are to become such a people "v~cationing" through 1Thomas Merton. "The Himalayas/November 1-25." The Asian Journal ot Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions Paperback, 1973), p. 154. '-'Thomas Merton, "Problems and Prospects," Contemplation in a World o] A'ction (New York: Image Books, 1973), p. 36. aJohn C. Haughey, S.J., "The Underpinnings," Should Anyone Say Forever? (New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1975), p. 21. ,~ 492 The Freedom and Detachment o[ Submission / 493 ngaargreo-w-t ghaetne si ta nsed. te_~rr.ar.inss"p athreant tw doe omrsu, sutn benecguinm tbheere jdo ubyrn eexyc ewssit the mtwpoor raal tbhaegr- im-portant spiritual qu~ilities: freedom and detachment. And since Jesus never exhorted his foil6wers to any endeavor that he himself would not surpas, singly complete, qt would be well to follow in. his footsteps on the roadway to and through t_,hese beckoning (but sometimes, frightening) entrance-ways to the Kingdom. " The Free Christ '-Jesus was' a free man, able ~o commit himself to a way of life which in-evitably and irrev6.cab.!y would end in ignominious agony. Because he wa's free,,,he was also. supremely detached froin the picayune compromises Of life by which we' s6 ~asi!y bind ourselves to ~he transient. Categorically'~l~eaking, it seems that Jesus was free enough to:°sub-ject himself to 6th~rS (in his case, always his inferiors); subject himself to the law (re, ligi~'s and civil); subjeCt~ himself to the Transcendent (his Faiher). And ~e.c.a.u.s.e he was' unafraid of that type of subjection which we, in ~so utterly a human stance, avoid, C'firist becomes the detach.ed and liber-ated man, par ~exi~ellenc¢--i.nfi.nitely able to detach and .liberate us for him-self. Submission to Others ~,, In all. of hi,s relationships with others . (his creatures).,~ Jesus is able to submit{ His first profound submissibh in the womb of Mary initiates the patter.n of "nm:row gate" and "doors ,w, ithout signs" that he follows through-out 'his. life. Frbm the early Temple .expe.rience: "And he then~.went down with them . .;.'~and lived under their au, thority" (Mary and,. Joseph.), to Ca~a: "They have no wine" (whe~ he lberforms his first miracle through the intercession Of his mother), thro~ugh .his public, life: "Lord, that I may see~gain" (miracle after miracle upon request), to Calvary:" . ~h et y¯, . ,~,.led him awfiy to crucify, him,'! Jesus fi~lfills~ th6 will of others. Had he .done so out b.f mere fiuman weakness, or .the inability to assert himself and dominate, or through the petty hop~ of gaining prestige and popularity, wealth and'status, his final submission atGolgotha would be but the ~pathetic end,to an :already. doomed demi,gOd. But Jesus submits freely--in total self, surrender--comPletely in control o~ his own life and that of his corn temporaries. Knowingly, willingly, in complete gix;enness, he yields to others. Why? Why such a profound stooping into emptiness, into human obliterr ation, into the undesired door of death to self? "I have come that they may have life and have. it to the full,"-.J'~.sus answers (Jn 10:10). The words are haunting because they imply that fullness of life commensurately grows as we become more liberated and detached for others. If this is the pat-tern for Christ, can it be any,different for his followers? ~ 494 / Review [or Religioux, ~'olume 35, 1976/4 Submission to the Law Jesus also demonstrates throughout his earthly, existence that interior freedom enables one to become so detached from self that adherence to imposed human statutes becomes possible. He is born according to the law of the Scriptures, in fulfillment of the prophetic words and visions trumpeted through the ages of Salvation His-. tory, in complete accordance with all the signs and symbols which mani-fest his coming. And he dies in the same manner, as derided and rejected as Isaiah had seen that he would be, "lifted up" as he himself proclaimed, under Jewish rejection and Roman assent. And situated between those two n~atural, human laws of birth and death remain the countless daily submis-sions to civil and religious law which Christ fully and freely accepts. He announces in the Temple that "this day the Scriptures are fulfilled in your midst" (and in his person) while at the same time having scrupu-lously adhered to the proscribed religious rites. In response to the legalistic baiting by which the Pharisees hop,e to entrap him: "Master, is it permissi-ble for us to pay taxes to Caesar or not?" (Lk 20:22) Jesus judiciously replies: "Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar's; to God the things that are God's," thus delineating the parameters of civil and religious obedience. Ironically, it is his fulfillment of religious law (the feast of the Passover) which brings him to Jerusalem--to Annas, Caiaphas, and Pilate who sen-tence him to death. In the presence of these designated earthly authorities, Jesus, detached, submissive, and free, recalls the only reason for anyone's submission to human law: "You would have no power over me if it had not been given you from above" (Jn 19:11). Knowing this and authorizing it, Christ, freely gives himself over to these misguided, conniving, fearful, self-centered representatives of the Law, who wash their hands of him and conclude that "it is better for one man to die than that the whole nation perish" (Jn ~11:50). Again we are tempted to ask the question "why"--why this submission to human laws and human beings by one who is their Source and Origin? Perhaps the better question would be "how"? How do we become liberated and detached enough to do the same? Submission to the, Transcendent Once again Jesus provides us with the answer: "The world must be brought to know that I love the Father and that I am"doing exactly what the Father told me" (Jn 14:31). In other words, he tells us that we will only be able to submit ourselves to temporal rules and temporal persons if we have first submitted to the Eternal Rule and the Eternal Person: "Love the Lord, your God with your whole heart and soul and mind" (Lk 10:27). Christ did; Totally, constantly, unswervingly, he submitted to his Father: "I come not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 5:30). And it is this~awareness of the Father's will and the Father's The Fr'eedom and Detachment of Submission / 495 love that is the motivating force of all of Christ's other submissions: "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). Christ makes the Father known through his execution of the Father's will In the name of his Father, he cleanses the Tempir, restoring it as a place of worship, proclaiming it his Father's hous~e, and thus establishing, in one dramatic act, the power of his filial submission. In all his conversations with men, Christ consciously mentions the Father. To Nicodemus, he confides the reason that he has been commis-sioned by his Father: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life" (Jn 3: 17). To the Samaritan woman, he outlines the "kind of wor-. shipper the Father wants" (Jn 4:23). To the Jews, he openly acknowledges his dependence on the Father: "The Son can do nothing by himself; he can 0nly do what he sees the Father.doing" (Jn 5:19). And when his disciples ask him to "show us how to pray," .Christ refers them to the Father. Even when he teaches, Christ does so in the name of the Father. And the only authority he possesses for his teaching derives from his submis-sion to the Father: "The works my Father has given me to carry out, these same works of mine testify that the Father hasjsent me" (Jn 5:36); His final great submission to the Father coincides with Christ's final great submission to religious and civil law as dispensed through the hands of his human subjects. In perfect freedom, detachment, and submission, Christ foretells and then completes his passion and death. When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing of myself: what the Father has taught me is what I preach; He who sent me is with me, and has not left me to myself, for I always do what pleases him (Jn 8:28-29). Having uttered these profrundly simple words, Jesus stoops through the "narrow gate" of death, passes through the ."door of emptiness, the dorr without a sign, the door without desire"--the Cross. The Father loves me because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me; I lay it down of my own free will, And as it is in my power to lay it down, so it is in my power to take it up again; and this is the command I have been given by my Father (Jn 10:17-18). What liberation and detachment infuse these submissive words! 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 The Paradox Merton would be among the first to assent to the paradox inherent in freedom, detachment, and liberation. He states: "Obedience [submission] is, paradoxically, the one guarantee of . . . charismatic, inner liberty" ~Contemplation, p. 34). And Christ himself was the first to demonstrate the paradoxical dimension inherent in following him: "Anyone who loves his life loses it; anyone ~vho hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life" i, Jn 12:25). The choice~is ours to mal~e. Haughey cogently reminds us that b~, our choices we are irrevocably defined (Should Anyone ¯ . . , p. 32). And Christ urgently.prods us to make his own irrevocable ~hoice. ours, when he claims:~ Eternal life is this; to know you, " the only true God ~" ~'~ ~ and Jesus Christ whom you have sent (Jn 17:4). In such knowledge, indeed, resides the foUndatiori arid reward for all the liberation, detachment~ and Submissidn of thepi!grim heart. ~ t'The three doors (they are one door) . .' Christ said: '!~am the door. I am the op~er~ing, the. '.shewing,' the revelation'" (Asian-Journal, pp. 154- 155). "Come follow m6"--through the "narrow gate~" through the "'un-marked, undesired doors;" into thd liberation and detachment of submis-sion- the Chri~tic "vacation" of love. The ,,'Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life David M. Knight Father Knight is a member of the House o! the Lord community which staffs a "house of prayer" established in Memphis under the jurisdiction of Bishop Dozier. His present work is mostly in the. area of priests' retreats and team approaches to parish missions. He has published" before in 6ur page~, his latest title concerning religious government and obe~lience (July, i97]). His address: Nazarettl 'House of the Lord; 1306 Dellwood Ave.; Memphis, TN 38127. Can we still use the terminolbgy: "active-cQntemplative-mixed" to char-acterize religious life today? Aiad if we do use these tdims, ar, e we really using them in the way St. Thomas understood them--a way that carries oo the aut.horit3~ of his own tSrestige? Father Ladislas Orsy, S.J., suggests:that we abandon this terminology with its threefold division 9f religious life:" The arguments against the division are manifold. First,, all religious institutes are called to .be con~templative. Then, there cannot be true apostolic action in the ,full sense without its being rooted in the inspiration and strength of the Spirit which is contemplation." Finoally, tl~e express!on "mixed life" does not make s+nse. Action has to grow fi'om contemplation; they are 6rganically united, not mixed. ¯ . . "~here~'ore, so far as the distinction has a foundation, it must lie in the external way of life of these communities; in the specific approach to the realization of contemplation and action. TO avoid confusion, it might be better to describe this differentiation among religious by spe~king about fully enclosed life. moderately enclosed life, and fully open way of life. (Open to the Spirit, Washington (Corpus Books), 1968, pp. 271-272). 497 4911 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 35, 1976/4 Fathers Thomas M. Gannon, S.J., and George W. Traub, S.J. present St. Thomas's division as a distinction between "the contemplative life, the active life, and the apostolic life" (The Desert and the City, New York: Macmillan, 1969, p. 142). So far as I have been able to discover, St. Thomas does not use the term "apostolic" any more than he uses the term "mixed'" to describe a category of religious life (see George E. Ganss, S.J., " 'Active Life' or 'Contemplative Life'" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 22 (1963) pp. 53-66, esp. p. 61). He teaches that human life in general is divided simply into "active life" and "contemplative life" (Summa Theo-logica, II-II, Q. 179, art. 1) and that, in itself, the contemplative life is "more excellent" than the active (ibid., Q. 182, art. 1). But he adds that a man might be "called away from the contemplative life to the works of the active life on account of some necessity of the present life, yet not so as to be compelled to forsake contemplation altogether. Hence it is clear" that when a person is called from the contemplative to the active life, this is done by way not o] subtraction but o] addition" (ibid., ad 3, emphasis added). There is much evidence in St. Thomas's treatment of this subject to conclude that Thomas would consider all religious as belonging essentially to the category of contemplative life. Some reasons for this are: 1. The religious state is directed to the perfection of charity, which extends to the love of God and of 6ur neighbor (Q. 188, aLt. 2). But to direct one's whole life to growing in loving knowledge of God without which the perfection of charitY is impossible is to embrace the goal of the contemplative life. 2. The active life has two senses for St. Thomas: a) a life directed to the practice of the moral virtues as con-trasted with the theological virtues. The moral virtues (pru-dence, justice, temperance, fortitude) aim at the correctness of man,s external actions toward persons and things in this world (Q. 181, art. 1 and Q. 180, art. 2, Sed contra). The theological virtues (faith, hope, charity)aim at knowledge and love of God himself, as object. It is obvious that no one striving for the "perfection of charity" can make th~ moral virtues the goa.1 of his life. And Thomas teaches explicitly that if a person is practicing the moral virtues in order to arrive at contemplation, he is in the contemplative rather than in the active life (Q. 181, art. 1 and 2). And this is what religious do. b) In a second meaning, the active life is one which is taken up with external activities, such as active works of service to the neighbor. When Thomas argues in favor of this for religious he always seems to be working on the assump-tion that the religious in question is in the contemplative life, The "Active-Contemplative" Problem / 499 but that he accepts to leave contemplation partly or tempo-rarily and add works of the active life "in order that God's will may be done and for His glory's sake" (Q. 182,~ arts. 1 .~ and 2). That he assumes this to be the case when religious engage in active works is indicated by his answer to the question "Whether a religious order should be established for the works of the active life?" One objection against the proposition is that' every religious order belongs to the state of perfection, but the perfection of the religious state consists in the contemplation of divine things (Q. 188, art. 2, obj. 1). Thomas doesn't contradict this. He ~imply answers, "Since religious occupy themselves with' the works of the ' " active life for God's,sake, it follows that their action-results~ ]rom their contemplation o] divine things. Hence, they are not entirely deprived of the fruit of the contemplative life." (Emphasis added.) St. Thomas recognizes; however, that active work may result from contemplation in two ways. It may be that the work results from the full-ness of contemplation. A man contemplates God until"he is filled with a wisdom, an insight into the mind and heart of God, a graced understand-ing of the Scriptures, that overflows his heart and is shared with the neigh-bor 'in preaching or teaching. For St. Thomas, obviously, preaching and teaching are not something°'a .man .is prepared to do by academic study. The intellectual who is not a contemplative cannot teach or preach in St. Thomas's sense of the words, which refer precisely to a sharing with others of the fruits of one's contemplation. The merely academic teacher of theology, the eloquent intellectual in the pulpit, are nothing but sounding brass' and tinkling cymbal; their activity does not even enter into this dis-cussion. There are other works of the active life which do not presuppose the fullness of~contemplation: active works of service for the neighbor, such as taking care of guests, nursing the sick,., and so forth. And yet, if they are engaged in such works out of love for God and a desire to serve him perfectly in his Body on earth, they do proceed at least from a beginning of contemplation; from a prayerful response to the Scriptures. (If, such work should, in any given person, proceed from a merely humanitarian concern for others, it ~would not.be~ a Christian act, and again would not even enter into our discussion here. )" Also, St. Thomas presumes that, in religious, such activity is directed to the end of religious life, which is the '~perfection of charity." And since, as we have seen, this perfection cannot be conceived apart from contemplation which attains God directly in faith, hope and love, we must conclude that this activity, in a religious, is directed to the end of the contemplative life. In other words, a religious engaging in such active labors is; in 'fact, a contemplative.A given religious may not 500 / Review lot Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 be a contemplative in the sense of having already attained that degree of spiritual deepening and prayer., which enables him or her actually to con-template in the full sense of this word, or to share with others the fruits of contemplative insight into the mysteries of God. But the religious is still a contemplative by reason of the.end to which his or her life is directed. Thus a postulant or candidate in a religious house who has not yet begun to pray seriously, who perhaps has little or no spiritual ~xperience to share with his neighbor~ and who spends his day washing dishes in the kitchen or teaching some secular shbject in a school--that person is, nevertheless, already in the "contemplative life." He is a contemplative in the same sense that a fetus in the womb is a human being: he is not yet sufficiently developed to function fully as a contemplative, but he is already intrinsically ordered, by a free choice of his destiny, to the "perfection of charity," to loving knowledge of God answered by a total gift of oneself. We should also apply to this qtiestion St. Thomas's reasoning about the pursuit of moral virtues belonging to the contemplative rather than to the active life if contemplation is its ultimate end (Q. 181, art. 1 and 2). If a man engages in :active works, but with the intention that through these he will rise to a more and more loving knowledge of God (contempla-,, tion), then this man, too, is inthe contemplative life, although .he.is occu-pied in the ,w~orks of the active life. We should remember here that even a monk in the most enclosed contemplative monastery is still engaged :in the works of the '.'active life"---even though he.is called a contemplative~ so long as he is at that stage of spiritual growth in which his main concern is acquiring moral virtues, and his prayer life is sti'il on the level of active meditation, spiritual reading, and such (see John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book II, ch. 17, par. 4). To be engaged in the "works of~ the active life" not only means doing what we popularly refer to as "active work"--teaching, nursing, repairing houses, keeping books, etc. In its most fundamental sense this expression means actively using one's human powers to bring about, a change, whether in oneself or in outside reality, whether one does this through carpentry or through meditation on the. gospels. Contemplation, on the other hand, is resting in what one has~ already learned, already come to love, letting oneself be transformed without labor (not without pain) into what one sees. Where meditation is studying,~,think-ing, deciding, contemplation is looking, listening, loving. Thus we conclude that religious, even though entirely taken up with° external activity, truly belong in the category of "coritemplative life" so long as their works-- whether of moral virtue or of service to others--are not, for them, ter-minal activities in themselves, but means to arrive at a more loving knowP-edge of and union with God. As St. Thomas puts it: "When a man makes use of~ things pertaining to the active life, merely as dispositions to con-templation, such things are comprised under theocontemplative life" (Q. 181, art. 1; and see Q. 180, art. 4). We might have to. question ~ind The "Activ~e-Contemplative'" Problem / 501 qualify the word "merely" in this sentence, but the main point is clear: so long as a religious is aiming at the perfection of faith, hope and love, which is inseparable from contemplation, he is in the "contemplative Aife." What we call. the "active life" for religious, then, is one of two things: first, it~might be an overflow of contemplation. This might take the form of an overflow of love as well as of knowledge. That is, it might take the form,~not just of preaching and teaching, the two examples St. Thomas gives, but of heroic service in nursing, counseling, social action, or the like. In this first sense, then, a religious might be an "active" contemplative through any form of activity which is, .in this individual, so impregnated with grace and love that it~ results, in the given case~ from the "fullness of contemplation." In a second sense, the "works of the actiVe, life" might be a stage of growth toward contemplation--not towa~:d spending long hours in formal prayer, necessarily, but toward habitual contemplation, toward such intimacy with God in faith, hope and love, that° one is always, in a sense, seeing the face of God, and reflecting it (see Q. 182, art. 3). In the words of Gannon and Traub (The Desert and the City, p, 148), ¯ . . In Thomas' understanding as well as in the usage of other ascetical writer~ ~ ofthe time, the active life and the contemplative life designate successive but interacting stages of growth.ifi the interiorqife of a Christian' seeking "spiritual .growth, whether he be a religious or a layman. The active life is the earlier , stage where, seriously 'beginning his pursuit of living spiritually, he struggles ~ against sin and imperfections in himself and both learns and practices the moral virtues and the exterior acts @hich spring from them. Activity thus comprises the'Ltwo stages of spiritual growth which were later named "~he pur- ~. ~gative way of the beginners" and "the illuminative way of th6 advancing:" The :contemplative life, on the other hand, is a higher stage where the Chris, , tian practices c,.hiefly the theological virtues, especially charity, and under its inspiration works of love that witness to it. Among these manifestations of charity one often finds a growing desire to withdraw into solitude in order to achieve undistracted contemplation of God°. We are now better able to understand St. Thomas's comparison of the three kinds of religious orders. (Q. 188, art. 6): .° . The work of the'~active life (that is, the work that religious can do) is of two kinds. One proceeds from the fulness of contemplation, such as teaching and preaching . And this work is more excellent than simple contempla, tion. For even .as it is better to enlighten than merely to shine, so it is better to give to others the fruit of one's contemplation than merely to Contem-plate. The other work of the active life consists entirely in. outward occupa-tion, for instance, almsgiving, receiving guests, aiad the like, Which are less excellent than the works of contemplation, except in cases of necessity, as stated above.'. Accordingly, the highest place in religious orders is held by those which are, directed to teaching and preaching . The second place belongs to those Which are directed 10 contemplation, and the third to those which are occupied ~vith external acii0ns. J Tl~e lowest 'place among religious orders is held by those "which are 502 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 occupied with external actions." Understand here that these actions are not such that they must proceed from the "fullness of contemplation," such as authentic--that is, spiritually effective--preaching and theological teach-ing must be, but actions which achieve their proper end equally well whether the one performing them is a beginner in the spiritual life or a mystic. A candidate of one day in a religious order, if she is a skilled nurse, can nurse as well as another who has twenty years of contemplative prayer behind her. However, we must also understand that these actions can pro-ceed from the fullness of contemplation, in which case more will be taking place than just the action itself. A nurse who is a mystic will communicate the love of God, to her patient as well as she communica'tes all the human concern implied in good nursing care. If a given religibus order is set up in such a way that it effectively fosters in the members a contemplative spirit that will make all the external actions come from the fullness of con-templation, then that order belongs in the first, and highest, category .of religious ordersEnot in the third one. Likewise, an order established for teaching and preaching, if it is no longer such that it effectively fosters contemplation in the members, does not belong in the first category of religious life, but in this third, and lowest one. What we call here an "ac-tive" order, then, is one which is basically in the contemplative life, because it has loving knowledge of God as its end, but which is not really organized to produce this loving knowledge of God very effectively. An individual religious here and there might attain it, but the order as such does not concentrate on the attainment of. contemplative union with God, but just on the active work to be done. In such an order contemplative union with God will not be excluded as an end, of course; in fact, it will be specifically proposed (in words) as an end, and there will even be some prayer, or other spiritual exercises, prescribed or suggested to help the members attain union with God. But it will be obvious from the real structures and policies of the community that what the order as such is bent on is active service, with or without much progress in loving knowledge of God. If the com-munity's particular mixture--harmony, balance, formula--of prayer and service are such that they do, in fact, lead one to ri~e through the active stage of growth (active methods of prayer and emphasis on moral virtues as well as active service) to the loving knowledge of God that belongs to developed faith, hope and love, i.e. to the plane of developed contempla-tive life, then in that measure the order does not. belong in this third category of "active" .religious c6mmunities. We might ask here whether any "active" orders as we have just de-scribed them really exist. Here we have to distinguish between existing in ]act or existing juridically; i.e., existing as active orders because they have degenerated into mere service organizations or because that is what they were founded and accepted by the Church to be. ~It may be that in ]act, the majority of the orders we call "active" in the popular sense today The "'Active-Contemplative" Problem / 503 (meaning not strictly contemplative) have become ~tctive as described above. Juridically, however, many, perhaps most, were not founded to be this, as is clear in the history and constitutions of such communities as the Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans, and so forth. If, though, there are orders actually founded to be active in the sense we have described, then they were probably founded on a double principle of practical realism: first, some active task had to be performed, and dedicated hands were needed to perform it. Secondly, it was assumed that the persons who would be called to such a life would not be, as a general rule, apt material for a way of life that aimed at much more than solid moral virtue and a sound, con-sistent piety that kept one living and functioning as a dependable worker in the vineyard of the Lord. God might, of course, raise one to the highest contemplation and mysticism in such a way of life; but the life as such did not presume to aim so high. Let us be frank in admitting the possibility of a certain class distinction in this. Just as St. Ignatius hesitates to give to rudes (the crude, uninstructed, ignorant) more than the "First Week" of the SpiritualExercises (namely, the part that aims at conversion from, sin and systematic practice of the moral virtues: see Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius Loyola, Annotation 18: Louis J. Puhl, editor, Loyola Uni-versity Press, Chicago, 1951, pp. 7-8) so the founders of some religious communities seem to have assumed that their recruits would be mostly uneducated peasant girls, whose interior life would be adequately nourished by a few simple exercises of piety and a strongly structured community life. I do not know if this was the case, any more than I know if any "ac-tive, .order as we have described it was ever approved or founded to be such in the Church. But if such an order exists, it is easy to see why St. Thomas would give it the lowest place in his hierarchy of religious com-munities. It is also easy to see why the Church so ~asily grants permission to transfer from an active order to a contemplative order, if even part of the description of active orders as we have presented it above should be true. The second place on the scale of religious orders belongs to those "which are directed to contemplation." Since all orders are ordered to con-templation indirectly, at .least, this category obviously applies to those orders which occupy themselves primarily and directly in-exercises which by their very nature tend to foster contemplative prayer. We must recall that many of these exercises may belong, of themselves, to the "active life"; the practice of moral virtue, active methods of meditation and prayer, etc. To be a member of a contemplative order does not mean that one has already attained to contemplative prayer, or that one's life is actually char-acterized by a deep and habitual awareness of God in faith, hope and love. But it means that one's life is organized directly to foster this spiritual growth. Obviously this is a "higher" form of religious life than the active life described above. It is not yet the highest form of religious life, in St. 504 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 Thomas's opinion, 'becausethe aim of the community is just the interior development°of its own members., The community is like a tree whose energies are all bent towards growth, but which is not yet mature enough~ to produce fruit. It,is better to aim at full developme]at than to be content with giving lesser fruit on a lower level, A developing fruit tree is a "higher" form of life than" a bush already serving to prevent erosion. So the orders we call "contemplative" are in themselves on a higher,plane than those we have described ~here as "active." The contemplative at least aims directly at~ spiritual growth towards contemplation, while the active qife seems to be designed for beginners who are going to remain on a non-contemplative plane of spiritual activity. St. Thomas assigns the "highest place" among religious orders to those "which are directed to teaching and preaching,"' but with the understand-ing that "preaching and teaching" presuppose contemplation: that what is preached'and taught is precisely the fruit of a contemplative life. He is not referring to those who teach secular subjects, or even to those who teach academic theology unless what they teach proceeds from the fullness of their contemplative prayer. We might add to St. Thomas's teaching' here-and pr~opose that "teaching and preaching" as the fruit of contemplation might be equally the work of a cloistered, contemplative commianity or of a community of Social activists busily reforming social structures in the political ~arena. What is r~quired for ,"teaching °and preaching" is not presence in the classroom or pulpit, but simply the fact ,of communicating to others the truth of God as this proceeds from that loving sureness of vision 'which is a mark of authentic contemplative prayer, It may well be that in" our day no teaching and preaching are more eloquent, or more needed, than the silent, inescapable witness of the,,monasie~ on the moun-tain top. Still another way to teach and preach has been brought very much before.~our consciousness these days. The Synod of Bishops, 41974, spoke of the "intimate connection" between the Church's work and concern for social justice and her task of evangelization. An earlier synod, 1971, went so far as to say that "action on behalf of justice and participation, in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel." (Both texts available from U.S. Catholic Conference,Publications Office, passages cited fr6m p. 1'8 and p. 34, respectively.) By0 this principle any"outward occupation, even the very active one of political struggle for social justice, is. a form of Christian teaching and preaching--and 'in the sense that St. Thomas. uses the terms --provided that it truly proceeds from the fullness of contemplation and is done in such a way that what clearly appears to the world is the truth 'of Christ's own mind and heart~ embodied in unambiguous action. St. Thomas's argument for this hierarchy of religious orders is based on' two principles. The first concerns the value of the end that is aimed at; the second concerns the effectiveness of the means employed, to achieve The !'Active-Contemplative" Problem / 505 the end. Orders which share the r+sults of their contemplation with others are more excellent than those whic~h just, contemplate, because these orders aim at the end of all religious life, the perfection of charity, in a way that includes more of the end, more of[the good that "charity" embraces. They organize their lives in a way design,'ed both to bring them to a more loving knowledge of God,in contemplati,~n, and to be of service in love to the neighbor (Q. 188, art. 6). Remember that, as we have explained this, any .I religious order, from the most clo~.stered contemplatives to the most active workers in the Church, can belon~g to this third and highest category of rehg~ous life provided that the commumty truly has a. formula for living that combines prayer and service in such a way that the community "speaks" to the Church out of tl~e fullness of contemplative insight into God. The superiority of such an order is based on the fact that the end to which it is directly ordered includes, both the good of contemplation and the good ,of active service to the! neighbor. It is obviously this kind of community St. Thomas has in mi~d when he argues that a religious order i . can be founded for works of the acuve life because their activity "results from the contemplation of divine ihings" (Q. 188, art. 2) and that~ a per-son who is in the contemplative life can .be called away from exercises of contemplation to works of the active life without losing anything bec~ause his engagement in active works is idone "by way not of subtraction but of addition" (Q. 182, art. 1 ). In suctl a case one does not forsake contempla- . tion entirely, but only partly or te~mporardy in order to add works of the active life (ibid. and art. 2). Thus such a community is "better" because "its end is a greater good." I Hence a religious order is preferable to another if it be directed to an end that is abso.lutely more excellent eit,her because it is directed to a greater goo~!,~ or. to more goods (A. 188, art. 6). This is the first principle by ~vhich St. Thomas rates religi6us orders, the principle that looks to the goo~d or end they are directly structu.red to attain. The second principle looks ito the suitability of the means emplpyed to achieve the end: !. If, however, the end be the same, 'ithe excellence of one religious order over another depends secondarily, not o~ the amount of exercise, but on the pro-portion of the exercise to the end in view. Wherefore, in the Conferences of The Fathers (Coll. ji, 2), Blessed Anthony is quoted~.as preferring discretion, wherebY, a man moderates all his at c¯ tions, to fastings, watchings, and all such observances ( ibid). I In evaluating a religious community we should look to its structures. The question is not really how austere the community is, or how strict its life appears to be. Nor is the question how human the community is, or how free its members, seem to be. The real question is: how well are its structures adapted to helping the members attain the goal of religious lile? 506 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 A tight ~community is no better than a loose one--and no worse. Whatever leads persons to the perfection of charity--towards God and neighborm is the ideal of religious community policy. St. Thomas warns that a religious order is not better because it has more penitential practices than another, more prayer than another. But in our day we may be failing into the same error he warns against under a different form. In our reaction against some of the rigidities and distorted practices of the past, we have perhaps apotheosized another set of values, made idols out of some other very particular and limited ideals. We have refocused our attention on-freedom and personalism, discernment and dialogue, community life and social involvement. And because these values are good,~we are under the illusion that in pursuing them we are renewing religious life. The truth of the matter is that religious life is not renewed by .any community exercise as such, whether it be dialoguing or taking the dis-cipline together. Religious life is renewed by discovering, in prayer and surrender to the Holy Spirit, an integral and harmonious set of structures that correspond to the complete goal of the community. If growth in con-templation, for example, understood as loving knowledge of God, is an integral part of the community's aim in life, then the community must in-corporate into its life-style specific and effective structures that really promote this growth. To affirm the ideal in words in the Constitutions is not enough. Communities should be evaluated, not by the orthodoxy of their statements, but by the effectiveness of their structures. What a com-munity really is should be judged, not by the goals it proposes to itself, but by the means it is willing to commit itself to in order to achieve these goals: and commit itself to realistically by building them into its life-style. We might ask what point there is in comparing religious orders. After all, the "best" order for any individual is the one which is most suited to his own temperament, stage of growth, and particular call from God. What point is there in comparing'religious orders in the abstract? I think that the precise point of all this is that the three categories we find in St. Thomas are not meant to be--or at least cannot be taken today to refer to---three different patterns for authentic life. We are not really offered three different choices of what a religious order can aim at. I believe that in St. Thomas's sense every religious order must be founded for "~teaching and preaching" if it is to be Christian. For the teaching and preaching that we intend here is nothing more specific or less spiritually profound than Christian witness. A religious vocation is a gift from God. But it ig a gift like those St. Paul speaks of in 1 .Corinthians, chapters 11- 14: manifestations of the Spirit given for the common good. A purely active religious order that really did not provide within the structures and policies of its communal living, means effectively to promote spiritual growth--growth towards deeper and deeper contemplation (under- The "Active,Contemplative" Problem / 507 stood not as longer hours of forma!, contemplative prayer, but as an ever more constant loving awareness of God and of all other things in the authenticity of their being as relation to God) would hardly be a legitimate form of life in the Church. At the most it would be legitimate as a com-munity that understood and accepted itself, with frank humility, as a com-munity for persons incapable of ~rogressing beyond the level of moral virtue in the spiritual life. But can.[we believe that any such category ac-tually exists? And would such a community really be viable? Would its apostolate really be valid? Yet I think we have around us in the present day examples of communities which have become in fact, if not in desire, purely "active" communities. The level of prayer is very low. Deep under-standing of the life of grace is praciically non-existent. This is not in every individual, of course, but it is embodied in the communal expression of the community as a whole. In these, communities does an authentic "apos-tolate" really exist? We may run sc,hools or hospitals, may engage in social service or social action with enthusiasm, and labor to the point of exhaus-tion. But by our fruits we must be judged. Are our schools producing peo-ple who have been touched by an ,encounter with Jesus Christ as a person --real in himself and active in his ,Body on earth today? Are our hospitals symbols and witnesses to the whol~ world of Christ's healing concern for the poor, the suffering, the afflict~ed? Is our reform of social structures permeated with the spirit of the beatitudes. Where the labor and service of an "active" order does not reail3} "teach and preach" the truth of Christ and the gospel, is that labor reall~ an apostolate? And can one's activity express the truth of the gospel if it! does not rise from a loving con.templa-tion of that truth within one's own!, heart,° a contemplation that makes one alike in one's being to, what one sees? Let us suppose, on the other h~nd, a more contemplative order, either a cloistered community or a veryI explicitly prayerful, active commumty. And let .us. suppose that it is so turned in-on itself, so defensive against all that is going on in the Church, sd protective of its own traditional struc-tures in their last, rigid detail, thatlthe community as a whole is not a wit-ness to anyone in the Church. Or w.orse: let us say the community ',speaks" to a diehard minority of crustacean Catholics who are clamped like barnacles onto anything in the ChUrch that~has the appearance of a rock. Suppose the community really exists to encourage a faction in the Church to believe, in opposition to the main body of the hierarchy, that Vatican II is only a passing wave:~that will soon get over us, leaving things exactly as they were before? It would be hard to accredit such a community as truly contemplative, of course, no matter how much time they spent in silence and stances of prayer. But one clear reason why the community would be invalid even as a contemplative community is that the com-munity would have no truly apostohc d~mens~on. They would not .be preaching and teaching--not in ~the name of the Church and for the 508 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 Church--but in the name of a factional spirit that is resisting the life of the People of God. Sucti communities are teaching a spiritual archeology and calling it biology:' holding up fossils to the world as the living Body of Christ. Let us suppose another.contemplative order, one still in its beginning stages. Let us say it is set up to be ~a community of solitaries. In its first efforts to really achieve solitude and a true spirit of prayer this community may have to defend itself to some extent even from contacts with the main body .of the Church. "It may ~have to. withdraw far into' the wilderness, far from the paths of men, and jealously guard its privacy for a while. To this extent it'can appear, momentarily at least, as a "counterwitness" to the ~solidarity of the whole Church's sharing in the charismatic .gifts of ~every member and group. But soon, if the community's charism is authentic, the flow of life back into the Church in the form of "teaching and preach-in~" .must begin anew. The monastery will begin to shine as a 4ight in the world--and most visibly to. the Church--through its manner of life and prayer. More than lik.ely pilgrims and pray~ers will begin to come, and they will be welcomed in the spirit of open faith traditional to monastic communities: a spirit of hospitality which receives each guest as possibly sent from God to receive or to give a blessing only God foresees in its details. On a level that is deeper yet than hospitality, and theologically more fundamental, the community must always understand itself, very con-sciously, as called and gifted for the benefit of the whole Church: The community must be aware of, and concerned about, what its life is "saying" to the Church, and what the Church's life is saying to it: how its self-understanding matches and fits into the ~ Church's contemporary under-standing of herself. The enclosed life must not" be a seIJ-enclosed life. There is no self-enclosed life in the living Church, the organically-inter-dependent mystical Body .of Christ. The reactionary community, be it monastic or non-monastic, is a non-apostolic community. Whether it spends twenty-four hours a day behind monastic wails or eighteen hours a day exhausting itself in the inner city, the community that has ceased to inter, act vitallywith tile Church is a non-apostolic community. How can a group that has sealed itself off from the Church's life claim in spite of this to be "sent" by the Church or to the Church? It is not possible, therefore, for a contemplative (or any other kind of) community to be authentically Christian. if it opts 'to live solely in its own little ~world of private tradi-tions, and practices, oblivious to all that is taking place in the life of the worldand the Church around it. To be truly contemplative, 'then, is to be apostolic by that very fact. And to be authentically ~apostolic one must be contemplative. And to be either, or both, in .the Church one must be in vital, responsive contact with. the. rest of the Body of Christ on earth. This contact crosses denominational The "~4ctive-Contemplative~' Problem. / 509 . lines: an authentically prayerful com, munlty of Protestant Christians (Taiz6, for example) speaks very eloquent!y to Catholics, and vice-versa. But a community that has set itself up as[ a standard for the Church, in opposi, tion to the movement of the Holy Spirit in the Church, speaks to no one. If the community is factional in a ]reactionary sense, clinging, to the past while the (~hurch moves into the future with God, its teaching becomes a "spiritual necrophilia," a fascinatioo with what is dead and controllable, based on fear of responsible encouhter with the Living God. °If the com-munity is factional in a progressive '~ sense, caught up in the .current of this world:rather than moved by the v~inds of the Spirit, then its teaching is idolatry: 'it receives man-made images from the pagans, or shapes them: from its contemplation of the worla, and presents them to the People of God as a ~graven image, a reflectioh of man's own contemporary face, to Worship as the new face of God. What, then, should We say in conclusion about the traditional threefold division of religious orders into "active," "contemplative" and "mixed"? First we should recognize that the word "mixed" may not legitimately claim a place in our tradition aldngside the categories of "active" and "contemplative." To describe the th'ird category as !'apostolic" rather than mixed (as G;innon arid Traub do) is misleading,~ because it implies that' the other, two categories, are non-i~postolic. This could be justified,° per-haps, if we_use "apostolic" t,o :refer~ in a very strict sense to precisely the kind of life the twelve Apostles' le, d,.as Father Orsy does (Open to the Spirit, pp. 273ff.). But', this is not thee meaning the word "apostolic" evokes when we ,:use it. In current usage~ "apostolic" means bringing grace to others as Christ's instrument, contributing by~(~ne's life' to the redemptive work, of the Church. Father Orsy"p0ints out this distinction very succifctly when .'he~ Says of rehg~ous, All are ,apostles but not all apostles follow the~ apostles', way of iife" (ibid.):ii, St. Thomas seems to recognizeIonly two categories of life for human beings, the contemplative and the active. He seems to assume that all re-ligious are in the contemplative li~fe by °virtue of the fact that they are striving for the "perfection of charit:y," which cannot be conceived of apart from that loving knowledge ~of God which is c'ontem~lation. Likewise all religious must be apostolic, 'became love of neighbor is included in the perfection of charity., . In the organization; the~structufing of religious life, however, one com-munity differs from another. Some ~ommunities organize their lives almost entirely toward actiVe works of sergice: Contemplation is still a recognized goal (asit is of every fully Christian life), but the community as such does not directly aim at it in any signifidant way through communal policies or structures. So far as the communl!y as a whole is concerned, its visible stance, embodied in structures, points it: only toward active service, and toward the active stage of spiritual "growth. Spiritually the community is 510 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 geared to the level of moral virtue. Each member is expected to labor generously in the vineyard of the Lord, and to live peacefully and coopera-tively in community. The vows as such are not stressed except as a basic and not particularly elevated platform on which to live and work. Mem-bers are called upon to live celibately and purely, to make simplicity and sharing the characteristics of their relationship to material things, and to subordinate personal preferences to the decisions and goals of the com-munity where the common good requires this. This life of "reasonable service" is nourished by workshops, discus-sions, and reading; by some sustaining prayer, and methods of personal and communal evaluation and accountability. Good liturgies and theological input are welcomed where available. Spiritual direction is encouraged for those who feel the need of it and can find a director. Everyone is expected to find time to make an annual retreat of five to eight days, and allowed to make it usually, on whatever level of depth the individual desires. If a person lives a morally virtuous life within this framework, causes no trouble in community, and does his or her work well, the community will ask nothing more: This describes the kind of religious community we have called "single-mindedly active," and it may correspond to the reality St. Thomas defines in his comparison of religious orders as a community "occupied with external actions." There is a direct concern for the spiritual life in these communities, but the level of spiritual life aimed at is that which will sustain the members in their active work for the Church and in their inter-action with one another in community life. For anything beyond this the individual must seek means and support on his own. Other communities are singlemindedly contemplative. They embrace structures and organize their lives in such a way that the way of life itself is a constant impetus toward growth in specifically Christian faith, hope and love. In these communities the life is so designed that anyone who is simply leading a life, of good moral virtue and pei'forming well in com-munity and in his work will have it brought home to him with increasing conviction that he is nothing but a "useless servant" (Lk 17:10). The whole manner of ~living is specifically designed not to. make sense except as an expression of the mystery of Christian. faith. And therefore a person must be constantly aware of this mystery to find the life even bearable. The key here is not austerity as such, but simply the absence of any rea-son within this world for living as one does. This "faith or foolishness" quality, stands out with dramatic clarity in the cloistered contemplative life, where not even work can be used as a justification for the way one lives. The active religious might be able to tell himself in moments of waver-ing faith that even if there is no God it is worth the sacrifice of family and possessions just to devote oneself to one's fellow man in his poverty, his sickness, his ignorance. It is certain that many active religious and priests The "~4ctive-Contemplative" Problem / 511 pour themselves out in work in order not to have to face the deeper ques-tions of their relationship to God in fi~ith. It is more difficult for the cloist6red contemplative to do this. He ~ight try, but everything in the life-style he is submerged in will cry out to him what he is doing. The cloistered orders give a place to prayer that is obviously not intended just to support a life of moral virtue or keep people generous in their work. The poverty, pursued by these communities is, as a rule, a level of deliberately-sougllt deprivation not imposed by circum-stances or embraced just out of a s~nse of solidarity with the poor, a style ~of life designed to be congruous. Religious obedience is recognized, not just as a means to harmonious, cooperative living, but as a form of kenosis and a way of surrendering to the Holy Spirit in the Mystical Body of Christ. And the structures of com-munity life embody this understanding of religious obedience and of the government that corresponds to it. ~Within such a context celibacy is both understood and expressed as a poSitive way of relating to God through Christ in a relationship of growing lintimacy, mutual comprehension--and gift, ' Communities designed to express and to lead to' the fullness of Chris-tian knowledge and love of God and of all other things in the light of God are obviously, in St. Thomas' opinion, preferable in themselves to communities that do not aim at this. If it came to a choice between one or. the other--an either-or alternatave Thomas would say the second kind of community is the better choice in itself. It is better, in the abstract, to be a singieminded contemplativ~ than to be singiemindedly active. It might be, however, that for a givenl individual, or in a given set of circum-stances~ it would be a better thing in the concrete case tO choose the more active form of life. But are we really faced, in theory at least, with an either/or alterna-tive. Granted that the choice betw,een an enclosed, a cloistered life and a non-enclosed life is an either/or alternative. Granted again that the choice between a life of solitude and continuous contemplation in the sense of an undistracted intellectual preoccupation with God is an either/or alternative to a life of active, absorbing labor.' Still, "actively' and "contemplative" do not have to be either/or alternatives. Contemplation need not be restricted in its meaning to the absorption of the intellect in God during periods of formal prayer, Contemplation can be, and ought to be, a total and con-tinuous attitude of mind and heart; an ~rientation toward God and an awareness of relationship with God in all that one does and encounters (see Gannon and Traub's seventh ]chapter, "Finding God in AllThings," op. cit., p. 152ff.). This awarenes~l of God in all things is fostered both by periods of formal prayer (experience teaches that. these are normally indispensable) and by a total life~-style that expresses emphatically and 512 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/4 unambiguously the faith, hope and love of which one wishes to remain aware. For St. Ignatius of Loyola the key to continuous contemplation is an ever-growing abnegation of self and a continuous stance of renunciation towards this world embodied in concrete choice (see Gannon and Traub, op. cit., chapters seven and eight: "Finding God in All Things" and "The Logic of Christian Discernment," esp. pp. 158- 172). For St. Thomas Aquinas the choice presented by the active and con-templative life-options is not an either/or choice but a triple one: either the active life, or the contemplative life, or both. In the third option one chooses to live in a way that leads to contemplation and in additio.n to this to share with one's neighbor i.n service the results of one's contemplative life. It may be--this We neither defend or dispute--that St. Thomas made too much of a distinction between contemplation and action, conceiving of contemplation too narrowly in terms' of an explicitly intellectual absorp-tion in formal prayer. It may also be, as I believe the case, that he did not understand, or at least develop, how many kinds of activity could be included under the term "teaching and preaching" that for him designates the kind,.of work in which th~ fruits of contemplation are shared. But if we follow the principles of St. Thomas's doctrine, I believe we arrive at an ideal of, religious life towardwhich every community can aim. This is re-ligious life characterized by a double end: that of growing explicitly in loving knowledge of God in faith, hope, and love while explicitly ordering one,s life to the spiritual benefit of the neighbor. Such a life must not only be explicit about its end. It must also incorporate effective means to produce the contemplative spirit and apostolic effectiveness sought. In the measure that a given form of religious living really does produce contemplative peo-ple and really does "speak" to the Church in a solid and effective way, that life corresponds to St. Thomas's ideal. This ideal of St. Thomas~was expressed in,Vatican Council II as the ideal, not of one particular category of religious order, but of religious life itself: ", ¯ . . As they seek God before all things and only Him, the members of each community should combine, contemplation with apostolic love. By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God. (Decree on the Renewal o] Religious Li]e, part 5, Abbott p. 47~0. See also Orsy, op. cit., chapter seven, "Filled with Grace and Power: Contemplation," esp. pp. 209, 254). The "mixed" life, in other words, is not really an option in religious life:if we use the term in the sense developed here, it has tobe an aim. To'~be practical we should suggest in conclusion that every religious take a good, hard look at.the concrete reality of his or her community's life. What concrete structures, policies, activities, or provisions: of com- The "Active-Contemplative" Problem / 513 munity life are specifically designed ~to foster the contemplative spirit? How effective are they? What real priod~ty are they given in the actual life of the community? How much do they influence community decisions? In what visible ways do they determiqe the community life-~style. Secondly, what is the life of the community saying to the Church? What are the real effects of the c~mmunity's work? What are the fruits of its apostolate? Is the communityiin reality working for the Kingdom of God, or just working and offering ~hat work in some general way for the Kingdom .of God? Is the .community corporately ~fiware of the difference between a life of moral virtue and a life of theolbgical virtue? Is there an insistence, in visible, concrete ways, that each member keep growing to the level of perfect faith, hope, and love? Or d~es the community in its actual policies insist only on a good day's work and a cooperative spirit in community? To be a "good religious," an acceptable member of the community, how much contemplative spirit is required? Are prudence,~justice, temperan.ce, and fortitude enough? o. ~ It is certainly legitimate for an individual to live the "active" life during certain periods of his spiritual growth. But this is only legitimate if th~ active life is seen as a phase of growth ordered toward achieving contem-plation. Or the active life can be added to the contemplative as a way of sharing its fruits with others. But ithe active life as such cannot be the final goal or total plan of any serious;Christian's life. What is legitimate for individual~ is legitimate for communities. That is, a community can structure its corp9rate; its communal life to be "active" for some members or for a certain~ time. But this is legitimate only if the community situates its active life-s~tyle within the broader context of an identifiably contemplative life-style~. The community must .be able to identify the explicit elements in its overall style of living--its structures and policies--that present the contemplative life to its members and foster its growth. The community must be able to show that it is concretely geared --and not just abstractly committed~to bring its members to the "per-fection of charity," the fullness of the loving knowledge of God. If a community is not willing or able to do this, it should take the responsibility of redefining itself. It should present itself to its members and to the ~world as a singlemin~ledly "active" community, a "service orgamzatlon in the Church. This ,;vould be,' in St. Thomas's explanation, a third class religious order. A second-class religious order ~would be one that is committed and geared toward achieving contemplation, but which frankly acknowledges that it is not strong enough in itsl contemplative life to take on an ex-plicitly apostolic dimension. By "apostolic dimension" I do not mean, of course, just active work. A comm.hnity of solitaries strictly cloistered in the desert can have a fully-developed apostolic dimension. By "apostolic 514 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 dimension" I mean an explicit concern about what one's life is "saying" to the Church. (This is, I believe, a legitimate interpretation of what St. Thomas means by "teaching and preaching.") Any community can put this concern aside temporarily. A novitiate house, for example, or a new religious older in its first beginnings; might have to forget for a while about what it is saying to the Church in order to concentrate exclusively on what God is saying to it. But a community which did not see itself as ever having any concern~except the growth and sanctification of its own members would have to acknowledge itself as a second-class religious order--a sort of spiritual hospital for people who are never expected to become strong enough to share the burden of the Church's mission. I seriously question whether either of' these first two choices~ are legitimate options in religious life. If religious life (like every,.valid Christian life) has the per[ection of charity as its goal, it seems a contradiction in terms that one would accept to be a second- or third-class religious. Realistically, I think ,the value of St. Thomas's distinctions lies in the help they give us in recognizing situations that ought to be temporary in the life of religious communities; situations we might be tempted to accept as permanent. We have mentioned a legitimately' exclusive preoccupation with one's own spiritual growth, provided it is temporary. We see in the life of the active orders around us a-similar preoccupation at this moment in history, but which might not be recognized for what it is. After Vatican II, when religious renewal began in a massive way, one religious com-munity after another awoke to the distortions that had crept into our understanding of religious life. We realized that in our efforts to become spiritual we had lost s~ight of ,what it was to be human. Words like "ful-fillment" and "interpersonal relationships" began to punctuate our con-versations. We threw ourselves into the rediscovery of our emotional and affective lives. We made acceptance of ourselves h religious goal, and embraced as a duty the grateful enjoyment of this world as God's gift. Words like "renunciation" and "abnegation" became "trigger" words, sym-bols of a repressive' and distorted spirituality that blanketed human values and suffocated human personality under an all-covering mystique of self-sacrifice. Religious began to pursue courses and workshopg for their own intellectual and psychological development. Individuals began to take responsibility for their own decisions and to speak up like adults in com-munity discussions. We went in for group decision-making and discern-ment. The emphasis was placed on personal responsibility. Bells were abolished, the time and place for prayer left up to each individual. Supe-riors were abolished, too, in many cases and group accountability substi-tuted for personal, spiritual ,government. People began to furnish their rooms in ways that expressed acceptance of the world rather than austerity. Convents went in for bright curtains, pink bed spreads and teddy bears. A rich variety of food and drink became available twenty-four hours' a day. The "Acttve-Contemplative" Problem / 515 Smoking and drinking ceased to be tabu to nuns. The ancient practice of the "peculium" so constantly condemned in religious tradition, came back in the form of personal budgets. Nuns and priests started dressing to ex-press their individual personalities as well as their maleness or their womanhood. Sisters experienced what it was to "feel like a woman again," for better or for worse. Priests and seminarians fell in love with sisters,~ and sisters fell in love with them. Some left religious life and got married. Those who remained began to speculate on the "complementarity of tlie sexes," and to ask how one's human sexuality could be integrated into a celibate life without compromise to chastity. Experiments were acted out, mistakes were made. Growth resulted, tragedy resulted; there was good and evil! In all of this there has been in religious community life an absorbing corporate preoccupation with "self." Religious communities have turned their gaze inwards, trying to straighten out their own house. For the time beirig many communities have become more concerned with what religious life is saying to them than they are with what their religious life is saying to the Church. In many specific instances, communities have defied alike the prejudices of the laity and the precepts of Rome. In their intense ef-fort to listen authentically to what God is saying to them, it would seem that some religious have become less attentive to the voice of the wider Church, whether this comes from the ranks of the People of God or from the official representatives of that People. A temporary preoccupation with self is legitimate and good, even on the community level. But no real discernment.or renewal of religious life can take place in the long run in isolation from the People of God. Re-ligious cannot ignore what their life is saying to the rest of the Church. As long as a community is doing this, or has to do it, it is engaged more in spiritual therapy for its own members than in making its contribution to God's people. It may well be that for a certain time a religious community may have to direct all its efforts toward "becoming human." Perhaps the human values of responsibility, affectivity, self-acceptance, and interper-sonal relationship have been lost through a distorted way of living in the past. These values may have to be recovered. But if a religious community accepts as its permanent goal in life, and as its normal guideline for community policy, the ideal of "becoming human," that community must inquire into its place in the overall community Of the People of God. So long as a community is mainly preoccupied with the healing of its own self-inflicted wounds it falls, I believe, into St. Thomas's second cate-gory of religious life. Whether the community is exclusively preoccupied with becoming divine through contemplation, or with becoming human through sensitivity sessions and the use of creatures that reinforce people's sense of personal ~worth, it is not yet strong and mature enough to share with others the fruits of a healthy and developed spiritual life. We should 516 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 recognize this and make sure that we do not accept a temporary, therapeu-tic situation as normal policy for religious life. We can set up spiritual hos-pitals for oursel~,es on a temporary basis. But .if the raison d'etre of our lives is just to constitute a healing milieu of humanness, our expectations for the future should be that no healthy human'beings will apply. Religious life is intended to lead people through active and contempla-tive stages of growth to that developed maturity of life, both human and divine, which allows each person to become a word of grace made flesh; a word of light, of life, and of love spoken tothe People of God. Religious life structured to this goal is the first, the highest, and I believe: the only authentic form of religious life. St. Thomas's distinctions invite us to look at three levels of value in religious life and tO ask" ourselves if our own communities are concretely and effectively geared to achieve them all. To a Young Sister on Her Final Profession Day You .,ask me for a poem, Sister, in honor of this day on which you place for all eternity, your life. your total self~ within the Heart of Him who called you, drew you, in a thousand subtle ways to 'love Him for Himself alone. But how can words of human speech express what is forever inexpressible, what can be only numbly felt :by hearts too grossly fles!! Even the Psalmist's flame-tipped words that ride ~he winds and pierce the clouds fall, helpless, to the ground. The only poem I can give you, Sister, is a prayer, whispered in the depths of nay own heart, to Him who dwells there too, as in Your own. And even that prayer says less in words than in desire. Love Him---trust Him--always, Sister, until that day when there will be no need of poems or words but only of that Word who is all love that ever was or is ° or can be. He is your poem, Sister! Sister Mar~c'Luke, c~S.]. 3556 Rocky River Drive Cleveland, OH 44111 The Incomplete Conversion J. 'Rankin, King~ . Mrs. Kin"g graduated from St. Louis University in 1973. She has pfiblished poetry in The Haiku Anthology, Poet atid~,C~itic arid elsewhere. She 'is presently engaged in research fin the .field of comparative re!igious,experience. Her address:. Nativity Hermi-tage;. Taos, NM 87571. We are b~ now, as participant observers,, nearly used to~ the revived in-terest in spirituality which has characterized the seventies, jStudies .and ex-periments inthe practices of Eastern Orthodox and Asian traditions oc-cupy~. a small but well educated and serious° number of cgntemplative re-ligious: Monumental tasks of research and translation by monastic scholars pr_o_mise considerable assurance that the monastic renewal will be both sound, and profound. A. reawakened interest at. the popular level in the role of .the, Holy Spirit in Christian life heightens mass awareness of God's saving ,pr.e~sence. ,Chri_stocent~ic~,incarnationalism, more intellectual than the popular movement, less comprehensive than the monastic effort, pro.- vides a vehicle for renewed devotion to th.~:, humanity of Christ among many priests and religious. These tendencies exist beside, and tend to color th_e spiritualities o.f, the religio_us orders which are more and more coming to be seen as mutations of and variants upon the one-basic spiritually of ~the Church Universal, simple ,and whole, the spirituality of the ages. Of all these, this essay .will °attempt to deal 0nly with the contemporary popular tendency. It, will stress its weaknesses rather than its strengths, its situation of risk rather than its posture of promise, because it is, among the trends developing at pres_ent, at once the most massive and the most fragile. It. is my hope that this approach will contribute more at the pres-ent moment to the ongoing recovery of spiritual discipline among us than the positive one which has been the more common over the past few years. 517 518 / Review ]or Religious, F'olume 35, 1976/4 While the popular spiritualities of the prayer group and the pentecostal meeting discover their sources in traditions outside the Church, they may also be accurately described as reactions to the conventional spirituality that preceded them. That earlier spirituality stressed rule and form, this proposes the Spirit and the spontaneous. That spirituality was rooted in the prescriptions of the spiritual manuals, this adventures without them. If that spirituality had nearly forgotten the Illuminative Way, this is ignorant of the Purgative. That spirituality put affectivity to its bow and aimed it upward, often so austerely as to be accused of being cold. This is charac-terized by a diffuse and volatile emotion. Conventional spirituality was a spirituality of reserve, interiority. Popular spirituality celebrates the mani-fest, effuses. Their differences are sufficiently radical to render them remote and, in a very profound way, both antipathetic and antithetical to one another. ~ And yet both have this in common, that the first had forgotten and the second has yet to learn the meaning of metanoia~f metanoia not as moment but as process. It is ironic that popular spirituality, in setting out to recapture the Spirit and the Life, should bear within itself, also, that precise element the want of which drained the previous spirituality of ex-actly those things. For it was certainly °its failure to grasp and implement the mechanics of the Purgative Way--that radical reaction to the discovery of one's own sinfulness--which stripped the previous spirituality of its vitality and left it, intact in all its structures but resoundingly,empty, a prey to that kind of renewing which obliterates altogether. It is characteristic of reactionff to~ over-react and, sometimes, to miss the point, Iri this case the.point was not that there was something wrong with the spirituality of the manuals: it was, hfter all, the Catholic spiritual-ity, the spirituality of the ages; but that there was something dreadfully wrong with those .who professed it. Specifically, they were not half sorry enough for their sins. On the contrary, they often thought themselves very good folk°'indeed. It is not perhaps surprising that their ~lateral~descendants should harbor a similar misapprehension, and that it. should produce, spon~ taneity to 'the contrary, a similar chill of ';righteousness"; a characteristic which proclaims as clearly as any antinomianism; the Spirit's absence. Genuine metanoia is a process. It begins, to be sure, with a haoment: "I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee: Wherefore I abhor.myself, and repent in dust and ashes,''1 I abhor myself~ an abhorrence that generate~ an ongoing and ever deepening reaction. We have called that reaction the Way of Beginners, the Purgative Way. We have identified with precision its stages; its characteristic rhythms of prayer, its temptations, its joys and sorrows, its goals and the interior technology which must be employed if they are to be attained. And we know its term: aJb. xlii, 5:6~ The Incomplete Conversion / 519 a sincere and complete conversion; .and'its consequence: a man sufficiently iiast to bear experimental cbntact with the Spirit of God in illumined faith-- a man who has the justice, the prudence, the temperance and the fortitude to worShip in Spirit and Truth under the influence of infused prayer. ¯ At the present time 'the popular movement recognizes the moment but is unaware'0f the process. Its characteristic exercises--shared and peti-ti0riaty prayer and Scripture reading--are not primary metanoiac agents. It is difficult to see how the movement is to proceed, if it does not assim, ilate a technology" of interior change. Popular spirituality's mistaken guess that the first gift of the Spirit is joy prevents it from cultivating that sorrow, with its concommitant hatred of sin and the filial fear of the Lord which dreads' to lose him, which are, in fact, the Spirit's choicest gifts to the youngest of his Chosen. ~'Its apprehension of a fullness of some kind, when overly encouraged, acts as a bar to its experiencing its own poverty. A dollar may indeed look like a great deal to a man who has known only'plugged nickels all his life but. it remains, nevertheless, a dollar, with a dollar's purchasing power. There seems tO be some danger of the popular renewal's forgetting that the ish seddqdh~ the just man, is ?a member of the an~wim, God's afflicted ones: the poor, the weak, the humble, the meek, the oppressed . the needy, the broken hearted, the crUshed in spirit.''-~ In its search for signs of the Spirit's presence, it is prone to overlook the "Sign of'Jonah" proposed to a previous unbelieving generationhthe death, burial and resurrection of the Lord and i.s, in consequence, diverted from living any coherent program of its own daily dying which is, after all, the Christian's only entrde to the higher life. "There is an apophthegm of Pambos," writes Andre Louf,'a "that is all the more pointed for its brevity: 'Acquire a heart and you can be saved.' 'Acquire a heart': this implies that we do not yet have that spiritual sensi-tivity, that alertness of heart, that can discern and understand the things of the Spirit." The popular, spirituality is of~theopinion that it can. There is perhaps no greater bar to the acquisition oL a heart than the persuasion that one has one. "Better just to smeil a~ flower in the garden or something like that," wrote Thomas M~rton,4 "than to have an unauthentic experience of a much higher value." * A concept of change nearly defines traditional spirituality. Life in Christ is metamorphosis. Its dynamism is the life of God in Trinity which enters the soul 'at the time of its baptism or through the"second and "labo-rious" baptism of penance. Conversion, then, i.s not an arrival :but a de- 2David Holly, The Quest ]or Biblical Living; Cistercian Studies,~ Vol. X, Nos. 3 and 4, p. 235. aAndre Louf, Spiritual Experience, Cistercian Studies, Vol. X, no. 2, p. 128. 4Patrick. Hart, ed., Thomas Merton, Monk (New York: Sheed & Ward; 1974), p. 190. Review. ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/4 parture.: To delay upon the platform, cheering the trains as they come in, is nearly always fatal. The Kingdom of Heaven withers when .it finds~a pos.t-conversion ?'level". and is staticized there. Transformation is'the primary work of the Holy Spirit. ,It is' to this--a definitive delivery~ffrom sin--that" his chief inspirations tend, for he is indeed the very SpiriL.of Christ, he who came to ~.set free the captive, to deliver those Iying in prison, To un. derestimate the extent of,the captivity, the depth of the dungeon, is to miss entirely the pointoof the Mission of the Spirit. . We often hear~it said today that because God loves us he accepts us. That is, of course, the one thing he will never do-,-because he loves us. "When he said 'Be perfect,' he meant it. He meant that we must go in for the full treatment. It is hard; but the sort of compromise we are all hanker-ing after is harder--in fact, it is impossible. It may be hard4or an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to, fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you.cannot go on. in-definitely being just an ordinary, decent,;egg. Wg must be hatched or go bad.''~ , Perhaps we could say that contemporary popular spirituality is in a situation of vulnerability at the moment because it does not dream that~it is an egg. It would seem to be a fatal diversion to cultivate joy if "real spiritual joy is one of the rarest fruits of the., spirit, to be attained only near the summit of the way, after all evil ,habits and thoughts are overcome, all passions conquered, and reconciliation with God is reached?'~ If "the true signs of sincere penitence .are the taming of the beast of anger and absti-nence from all condemnation.of others''~ and if only sincere pen.itence can open the way to any kind of consistent experience of God, then it would seem to be the better .part of enlightenment to .work at those hydra-headed passions. That, at any rate, seems to be what the Spirit.has always bee.n saying to t.he Churches. ; It wbuld not,.perhaps, be necessary to notice the belief clusters and attitudes in popular spirituality which .hinder its. developing genuine in-teriority if it had not attained a very rapid and, indeed, massive growth and were not now showing a decided disposition to impose .itself wherever possible on the rest of theoChurch. Now it is, of course, highly d~e~irable that we should all be more committed Christians, but it may be4hat a good many of us do not desire to be imposed upon, nevertheless. ~Especially by those whose light does not exceed our own. The prospect of spending the rest, of one's spiritual life occupied in "praise"~ and intercessory prayer, punctuated by predictable prophecies will not appeal to everyone . While enthusiastic neo conversi may be able to speak winningly and cohvincingly of their ~newly discovered life in Christ, it is the Church's ex- ;'C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan, 1974), p. 169. ~-~ "Iulia de Beausobre, ed., Russian Letters b] Direction, 1834-1860, beiiig the l~tter~ of Staritz Macarius of Optino.(St. Vladimirs Seminary Press, 1975), p. 106. rlbid., p. 169. The Incomplete ~onversion / 521 perience that fruitful apostolates are the result of a mature Christian life. And it is, besides, the spiritual doctrine of Catholicism that too great an eagerness to teach others is, in beginners, a sign of sp!r!tual pride.i, Although it is typical of evangelical Christianity to send its converts immediately into the field, it has not been the apostolic Church's custom. Following the example of her Lord, who spent thirty years in obscurity be-fore undertaking his public mission, she has preferred that her children nurture the life of grace in humble penance, in mortification and in prayer before sending them "as sheep among wolves." ". when we are fully grown men," writes Tauler in full fidelity to the tradition, "we may come and live in the land of Judah. 'Judah' means 'to confess God.' Then you can teach and admonish in Jerusalem . You can cross over into Galilee which means 'overcoming all things'. ,,8 The facility with which the technique for inducing a Pentecostal type conversion experience can, apparently, be acquired, makes it tempting to the popular movement to adopt evangelical traditions of proselytization. The maturer fruits of conversion oin terms of authentic interior cleansing will not be likely to develop, however, under condition~ 6f forc6d acti~on. Th6 spirit of "results" apparent among the'fastest paced evang'el!qa~l,16rom0i~r~ today should give us pause. For that spirit is not the meek Spirit, the Holy ~pir!t, thee Spirit of repentance which the popular spiritua!ity ~has claimed for its own. "I realize," wrote Andre Louf in a rece6t ar~ic, le, that repentance is not o_nly~ a difficult theme to touch on today, but is also~ g~ven the .complexes of our times--one of the most. difficult to pin down and live authentically. And yet it remains essential. In general, repentance is:'re-fused today. We live at the turning point between th~ obsessive neurosis (if ~ - I may call it that) characterizing the pe~:iod immediately before our own, and °~ the adolescent effervescence add aggressivity of a period that is now freeing ~ itself;of~ that neurosis. ProoL~that he has sinned can only create unbearable ~, ~anguish in one ~ho is already eate.~ up with anguish. Sin was intolerable for the l~eriod immediately before our own, and people tried to free them-selves from it by what the Fathers used to call dikaioma, the pretension to ° justice. Sin-is unbearable, so one claims to be just by an outward observance of law, or rather, of a certain n~n~ber of r~gulations; in r~hlity one is fleeing from me~tanoia. Today instead we hav~ an adolesc,eni effervescer~ce and aggreg- '~sivi~y which is~just as~ neurotic and ~'for which sin is just as uhbea'rable; the solution now, however, is to say there is no such thingP " ~ '" -~or to bury it under the cliches Of "love" and "joy" and "community" and "perice." ~' " The question for the next few years or s6, so far as the popular spirithal-itY goes, is whether ~it ~ill be able radically, to assimilate to its present spirit the basic spirituality of the Church and its metan~iac techniques. Or will the conversion remain incomplete? ¯ - SJohn Tauler, O.P., Spiritual Con]erences (St. Louis: B. Herder, 1961), p. 38. aAndre Louf, Spiritual Experience, Cistercian Studies, Vol. X, no. 2, p. 132. Ministry, Grace and the Process of Humanization Rev. Stephen J. Duffy Father Duffy is Associate ProfessOr and Chairmarl of the Department of Religious Stud.ies; L6yolaUr~iversity; New Orleans, LA 70118. My" subject ~is ttie very topical "theology of liberation.''a Before we plunge into the subject, however, there are some contextual questions that demand an answer. Why should w~ be concerned with grounding Christian pastoral or social ministry in theology at all? In this connection, is talk about a theology of liberation just a pep-talk or a sales pitch to send enthusiasm soaring? Are institutes and courses on pastoral ministry some kind bf inter-lude before we all get back to our real work? Do they amount to little more than abstract and theoretical discussions designed to titillate, the more intellectually inclined? My strong conviction is that a theology of liberation and discussions of pastoral ministry in that context should be far more than any of these. ZGustavo Guti6rrez, A Theology o] Liberation (Maryknoll: Orbis B~oks, 1973)." See also his "Notes for a Theology of Liberation," Theological Studies 31 (1970), pp. 243-261. Guti6rrez is prob~b~ly the most widely read and mo~t influential single theologian of liberation. For a good overview accompanied by a rather, complete bibliography, see Phillip Berryman, "Latin American Liberation Theology," Theolog-ical Studies 34 i(1973,), pp. 357-395. A variety of liberation theologies has been flourishing outside the Latin American situation. Cf. e.g., James H. Cone, A Black Theology o! Liberation (Philadlephia: J. B. Lippincott, 1970); R. Lauren.tin, Libera-tion, Development and Sa/v~ttion (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1972); J. B. Metz, Theology o] the World" (New York: Seabury Press, 1973); R. Reuther, Liberation Theology (New York: Paulist Press, 1972);~F. Herzog, Liberation Theology (New ¯ York: Seabury Press, 1972). 522 Ministry, Grace and Humanization / 5~23 '~ I am convinced first of all that there is a deep theological meaning to pastoral ministry. One of the most important contributions of Vatican II's Constitution on the Church is' the notion of Church as mystery. According to Vatican II, the. Church is first and foremost a mystery, a "kind of. sign of intimate union with God," and of the unity of all mankind." The Church is ,an outward sign and instrument, at once concealing and dis-closing the invisible action of God in the world. But if the Church is a mystery, then all its activity in the world is mysterious too, sharing in the very mystery of God. And if0'the Church is not solely the hierarchy or a voice speaking infallibly, or some vague entity.floating serenely above the chaos of this world, but is rather a community of persons, then our ac-tivities, too, share in the mysterious character of the,Church's action. As individual Christians, and as persons engaged in a work more or less clearly identified in some way as the Church's, there is no esCaping the fact ,that our activities will not be merely social or economic or educational or political .or psychological, but will bear a dimension that is Christian, and therefore mysterious. In the second place i believe'it is highly important for us to understand theologically this Christian dimension of our work, to grasp something in our own lives of this mysterious sign simultaneously revealing and con-cealing the. mystery of God. It is crucialfor us to understand what w~ are doing, for it is difficult to do a task well or enthusiastically without under-standing its purpose and meaning. Crucial, I say, because the meaning of Christian ministry cannot be exhausted by political~ sociological, economic, educational, or psychological interpretations. As sharers of the Chris'tian vision we affirm, in fact, that all such human acti'~ities, abstracted from their Christian dimension, would be ultimately meaningless. Thirdly, as students of theology, or :at least as persons with something of a professional interest in the Work of the Church, we must learn to think in theological terms about our ministry in the world. One of the emphases of liberation theology is that if theology has any meaning at all, it .must be applicable to real-life~ situations. Theoria .and praxis must be wed. I think that here our Christian education is :often lacking. We go through hours of religious instruction, even theology, without a hint that sometiow this must have practical implications. Few attempts are made to show the student how to relate what he has learned in °the classroom with what he is meeting in the s~reets. When Thomas Aquinas faced the prob-lem, at the very beginning of his Summa~ whether theology is a practical or a speculative science; he answered that it is both. From our~practice think we would have to deduce that we consider it to be purely speculative. The popular image of the priest closing his theology books on ordination, never to reopen ttirm again, is, unfortunately, close to the truth. Now I do not in the least want to downgrade theoretical or specuiative theology. I do not want it thrown out in favor of pastoral or even biblical Review ]or Religious, Volume 35; 1976/4 theology, I. feel it should.be even more emphasized, in the sense thaf each one should be trained, not merely to accept passively the theology he. or she is taught, .but rather to be able to reflect actively, creatively, theologi-cally, not only about classroom matter, but about the whole spectrura o1~ Christian :life in the world. If that is not done the pastoral gimmicks taught today will be obsolete in ten years, Critical theological reflection, by rel-ativi

Issue 33.6 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review 1or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review [or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor November 1974 Volume 33 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Roman Documents The following three documents have been recently issued by the Pope or by Roman Congregations. ExPuLSION FROM EXEMPT CLERICAL INSTITUTES Experience has shown that many difficulties and harmful delays can result from the judicial process which, in accordance with canons 654-668 of the Code of Canon Law, must be established when there is question of the expulsion of a male religious in perpetual vows, whether solemn or simple, from an exempt religious institute. The heads of such religious institutes have frequently requested a dis-pensation-- already granted to some religious institutes, on an experimental basis in accordance with the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae, II, 6--from the obligation of establishing such a process for the expulsion of religious. They have requested that instead they be allowed to adopt the adminis-trative procedure laid down in canons 648-653 for the expulsion of male religious who have taken perpetual vows in non-exempt clerical institutes or lay institutes. That procedure is recognized as being in keeping with the demands of justice, canonical equity, and respect for the person. Having taken everything into account, the members of this Sacred Con-gregation unanimously decided on the following in their plenary session of October 23-25, 1973: When there is question of expelling male religious with solemn vows or simple perpetual vows, the religious orders and exempt clerical congrega-tions referred to in canon 654 are to follow the procedure prescribed in canons 548-653 for the expulsion of male religious with perpetual vows in non-exempt clerical congregations. The undersigned Cardinal Prefect conveyed this decision to the Supreme 1249 1250 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 Pontiff, Paul VI, in an audience on November 16, 1973. He ratified the decision of the plenary session and ordered it to be confirmed and promul-gated. Therefore by means of this decree the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes publishes the decision. The decree comes into force at once, nor does it need a formula o~ execution. It will remain in force until the revised Code of Canon Law shall have been introduced. Notwith-standing anything to the contrary. Given at Rome, March 2, 1974. Arthur Tabera, Pre[ect Augustine Mayer, O.S.B., Secretary MOTU PROPRIO APOSTOLIC LETTER ON MASS STIPENDS It has been a strong tradition in the Church that the faithful, moved by a religious and ecclesial consciousness, should join a kind of self-sacrifice of their own to the Eucharistic sacrifice so as to share in the latter more effectively and should thereby provide for the needs of the Church, above all for the support of the Church's ministers. This practice is in harmony with the spirit of the Lord's words: "The laborer is worthy of his hire" (Lk 10:7) which the Apostle Paul recalls in the First Letter to Timothy (5: 18) and the First Letter to the Corinthians (9:7-14). In this way the faithful associate themselves more closely with Christ who offers Himself as victim, and accordingly they experience more abun-dant effects. Not only has the practice been approved by the Church, it has been fostered, because the Church considers it to be a sign of the union of the baptized person with Christ as well as of the union of the Christians with the priest who performs his ministry for the benefit of the faithful. To keep this understanding intact and to protect it from any possible error, appropriate regulations have been made in the course of the centuries. These have had the purpose that the worship which the faithful freely offer to God should in fact be celebrated with no lessening of observance and generosity. Because of particular circumstances of different periods and human social conditions, however, it sometimes becomes morally impossible --and thus less equitable--to satisfy in their entirety the obligations which have been sought and accepted. In such cases, therefore, the Church is com-pelled by necessity to make a suitable revision of the obligations while trying at the same time to be consistent in this matter and to keep faith with the donors. With the intention that the regulations for Mass stipends--a'matter cer-tainly serious and one demanding great prudence--should be established equitably, by means of a notification from the papal secretariat issued on November 29, 1971, (AAS, 63 [1971], 841), we decreed that all decisions concerning reductions, condonations, and commutations of Mass stipends Roman Documents should be temporarily reserved to us and we suspended, as of February 1, 1972, all faculties, no matter to whom or in what manner they had been granted. Now that the principal purposes of that regulation have been accom-plished, we judge that the time has come to terminate the reservation. In order to place the appropriate governance of this matter on new foundations and to prevent any incorrect interpretations, with reliance on lawful prece-dents of the past, it has seemed best to now abolish any of the earlier faculties which remain. Nevertheless, to satisfy somewhat the needs which our brothers in the episcopate must sometimes consider and in ~,iew of the experience of the use of faculties granted to them in the apostolic letter Pastorale munus (AAS, 56 [1964], 5-12) and De episcoporum muneribus (AAS, 58 [1966], 467-72) issued motu proprio, we think it expedient to grant certain faculties to those who share the pastoral ministry in the Church with us. Therefore, after mature consideration, upon our own initiative and in virtue of the fullness of our apostolic power, we establish and decree the following for the whole Church: I. From July 1, 1974, the above reservation, mentioned in the notifica-tion of the Secretariat of State on November 29, 1971, ceases. From the same day the sacred congregations of the Roman Curia are empowered to resume their competence in this matter, but accommodating its exercise to new, carefully defined regulations imposed upon them separately. Thus petitions which may be concerned with this matter are once again to be presented to those congregations. II. From the same day all faculties previously in effect concerning Mass stipends, however granted or acquired, are completely revoked. Therefore, the faculties of any physical or moral person cease, whether granted by us or our predecessors, including oral concessions, by the Roman Curia, or by any other authority; whether by force of privilege, indult, dispensation, or any other reason, including particular legislation; whether faculties ac-quired .by communication, custom, including particular, centenary, or im-memorial custom, prescription, or any other manner whatever. In view of this revocation, we decree that only the following faculties have force for the future: a) the faculties now conceded to the sacred congregations of the Roman Curia, mentioned in no. I; b) the faculties contained in the apostolic letter Pastorale munus and in the Index o[ Faculties which are regularly granted to local ordinaries and to pontifical legates; c) the new faculties granted to bishops in this apostolic letter, men-tioned below in no. III. III. From July 1, we grant the f~llowing faculties to the same persons 1252 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/6 listed in the° apostolic~ letter Pastorale munus, under the same conditions established in that letter: a) the faculty to permit priests who binate or trinate in the diocese to apply the Masses for a stipend, which is to be given to the needs assigned by the diocesan bishop to apply the Masses according to intentions for which a condonation or reduction would otherwise have to be sought. This faculty is not extended to concelebrated Masses of bination treated in the declaration of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, August 7, 1972,, no. 3b (AAS, 64 [1972], 561-3), for which the reception of a stipend under any "title is prohibited; b) the faculty to reduce, by reason of diminished income, the obligation of cathedral or collegiate chapters to apply the daily conventual Mass for benefactors, with the exception of at least one conventual Mass each month; c) the faculty to transfer, for suitable cause, the obligations of Masses to days, churches, or altars different from those stipulated in the foundations. These regulations become effective on the first day of July. We order that everything decreed in this apostolic letter issued motu proprio be effective and ratified, anything to the contrary notwithstanding, including anything requiring very special mention. Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the Feast of Corpus Christi, June 13, 1974, the eleventh year of our pontificate. Paul VI VESTMENTS AT MASS Queries have come from many places asking whether it is lawful to celebrate Mass without the sacred vestments or with only the stole worn over the cassock or one's civilian clothes. These queries have been prompted for the most part by practical rea-sons, especially in cases of traveling, pilgrimages, excursions, and camping. But there have also been reasons of another k~nd, such as to fit in better with given surroundings--when, for example, chaplains of a factory cele-brate in overalls or when Mass is celebrated in Scout uniform for young mountain climbers. Hence the question has been submitted: What is the mind of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship on this point? The answer, neither difficult nor far to seek, cannot but be in conformity with what is laid down in the norms issued during these years of liturgical renewal. General Principles First of all, there are the General Principles of the Roman Missal. In number 297 it is stated: "The diversity of ministries in the carrying out of sacred worship is manifested externally by the diversity of sacred vestments, Roman Documents / 1253 which should therefore be a sign of the proper office of each minister." In the following number 298 we read: "The vestment common to all ministers of whatever rank is the alb"; and in number 299: "The vestment proper to the celebrating priest, at Mass and in other sacred functions directly con-nected with it, is the chasuble." These regulations, which echo tradition and renew it in particular matters, are in practice the basis of the norms laid down in the other docu-ments which touch upon the subject. For example, the Instruction on Masses for particular groups (no. 11 b) simply refers to the text from the Roman Missal cited above. The same is quoted by the Third Instruction (no. 8 c) which then adds: The abuse of wearing the stole over the monastic habit, the cassock, or civilian dress when concelebrating or celebrating Mass is (ondemned. Nor is it lawful to carry out other sacred functions, such as the imposition of hands during ordinations, or the administration of the sacraments, or the giving of blessings, while wearing only the stole over one's civilian dress. Norm Unchanged From this norm the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship has never deviated, nor does it intend to do so either in regulations of a general char-acter or in particular indults. And the reason for this is quite simple, as already indicated in the General Principles--the distinction of orders, the decorum of the sacred action, and the clear-cut separation of the sacred from the profane. The community wishes to be respected, and it wishes to perceive also by means of the senses, the meaning of the rites, and to be included in the mystery. Only one extenuation has been introduced to facilitate the use of sacred vestments when traveling and changing from place to place, and that is the use of the chasuble without the alb. This presupposes that it is a full circular chasuble, reaching to the ankles, and with stole worn over it. In this case it is possible to do without the alb. The chasuble may always be of the same color, while the color of the stole will change according to the liturgical color of the day. This sacred vestment, when folded, can easily fit into a small traveling bag. But its use is limited to cases of necessity and it should be authorized upon the request of the Episcopal Conference of the respective country. Its use is regulated by precise norms (see Notitiae, 1973, pp. 96ff.). St. Pius once wrote: "Let beauty attend your prayer!" On that occasion he was referring more particularly to the chant, but it is applicable to the entire setting of the celebratioi~. The sacred vestment is one of the more important elements, and at the same time it emphasizes the sacredness of the celebration. All the ritual elements established by the competent authority should 1254 / Review ]or Religious, l/ohtme 33, 1974/6 be observed and respected so that every communication of the community with God should take place, through its duly qualified ministers, in a halo of dignity and solemnity that transcends the too worldly practices of every-day life. Annibale Bugnini Titular Archbishop of Diocletiana Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today Leonard Doohan Dr.Leonard Doohan writes from Ingersley Hall; Ingersley Road; Bollington; Mac-clesfield; Cheshire, England. A previous article by Dr. Doohan, "Apostolic Prayer," appeared in the July 1974 issue of Review ]or Religious, pages 785-9. The Spirit-inspired conciliar Church has presented all religious with five basic principles which ought to guide their continued developing growth in the spiritual life. They are: fidelity to the gospel, fidelity to the spirit of the institute to which the religious belongs, participation in the life of the Church, knowledge of the present world, and priority in conversion and in a deepening of the spiritual life. Each of these five spheres of life has focused more and more on the idea, so well developed by the Council (see AG 2,3; LG 9,1; GS 24,1i 32,1), that the person has the greatest possible growth within community. It is here within community, the Council says, that through a common effort in spiritual growth and development, the whole and each of the parts receives increase (see LG 13,3). Possibly, this idea of group growth is one of the great spiritual dimensions of the Council and reflection of postconciliar years. Moreover, no matter how mature individ-uals may be, there is still needed a painful and slow maturing and growth of the group's spiritual life. In any community's self-education to group growth, prayer in its various forms must have primacy. We hear.a great deal today about group discernment, community re-vision of life, assemblies, communication of life, chapters of renewal, forma-tion teams, community meetings, and the like; but if all these are not prayer experiences it is, I feel, really difficult for them to succeed as genuine steps in the development of the spiritual life of any group. All forms of prayer can lead to the development of the community's 1255 1256 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 spiritual life. The form I would like to consider is that form of group prayer technically known as "shared prayer." Possible Indications of Origins Shared prayer is now a commonly accepted form of prayer and it is quite unusual to find nowadays a reasonably sized group without at least some being in prayer groups or sharing prayer within their own communities. Christians have become increasingly aware that while prayer is the raising of the mind and heart to God, for too long insufficient care has been given to a consideration of the subject of prayer--man. The subject of prayer is a person who is intimately connected with others--they are part of man. He grows and develops with others, because of others, but in prayer he has often tried to be without others and therefore has remained stunted in spiritual growth. I feel that the view of the great St. Teresa is correct that all real spiritual development is paralleled by a growth in prayer, and I think we can see that much of our frustrated effort at group renewal has at least a partial answer in the weakness of growth in group prayer in its many forms. Many rejected shared prayer, or never gave it a chance, because it was just one of the "new things" introduced without real need. Perhaps it is more correct to acknowledge that it is not new but unfortunately has been out of use for too long and as a result we have suffered. In the Acts of the Apostles we see the importance given to group prayer whether in the ideal image of Christian living presented by Luke in Chapter 2 (42), or in the practical'circumstances of daily life--Pentecost, election of Matthias, choice of the seven deacons, mission of Barnabas and Paul. In some cases, undoubtedly, study indicates that the prayer sp6ken of by the author of Acts could be the repetition of psalm-type Jewish prayers or, in other cases, a developing liturgical prayer. However, .in some passages, as the election of Matthias (1, 24-5) and the group prayer after the apostles' release from the Sanhedrin (4, 24f.), we are very definitely dealing with a group gathering where prayer is spontaneously shared. In fact, a reading of the Acts more easily leaves one with the general impression of a spon-taneous prayer-sharing rather than an already newly-structured prayer form or a total, unchanged acceptance of a prior Jewish-structured prayer-form. Moreover, the detailed description by Paul of the Corinthians' prayer meetings (1 Cor cc. 12 and 14) certainly highlights the characteristic of spontaneity in sharing; and, although he feels the need to regulate this, he continually reaffirms its value. The attitude of the early Christians is understandable enough--they were simply imitating Jesus who spontaneously shared His prayer with His disciples. In Jesus' case, it is true that some of His prayers are repetitions of Jewish prayer forms and in other cases are prayers put into His mouth by the evangelists. However, even when these clear cases are excluded, the Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today / 1257 general picture left is still one in which Jesus, when praying to His Father, allows others to share in these filial expressions of His faith, hope, and love. It was in a general context of group sharing on a revision of apostolic life that Jesus burst into spontaneous prayer: "I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever, and revealing them to mere children" (Lk 10:21). The spontaneity of sharing JPY in apostolic success is praised by Jesus who, by example, goes on to show His valuing of spontaneity in prayer expression. In a brief article it is not possible to go into too many details. I would, therefore, just like to express the personal view that, in reading the early Christian fathers and ascetics of the first centuries, I was very definitely left with the impression of considerable spontaneous group spiritual sharing. Purpose of Shared Prayer The aim of shared prayer, like all prayer, is to g!ve glory to God by our thanksgiving, praise, sorrow, adoration or recognition of our total de-pendence on Him. In shared prayer we give glory to God with one mind and heart and in one shared expression. In some ways this form is possibly more ecclesial---it is more visibly shown that it is the one Spirit in each giving life to the whole body of the faithful. It think it is important to keep this aim clearly in mind and never to approach shared prayer merely as a means of bringing a group together. Moreover, when the aim is clear this undoubtedly modifies the way in which we approach the shared prayer--when convinced that the aim is to give glory to God we will more easily direct our prayers to our Father rather than drop to personal reflections for the benefit of the group. Effects of Shared Prayer The result of shared prayer over a period of time is very definitely abundant blessing by the Lord. Anyone who has shared prayer over a period of time cannot but be amazed at a growth and enrichment far greater than the effort put into it. Since we are concerned with a form of group asceticism, it is natural enough that the effects of shared.prayer, on the whole, parallel the normal psychological dynamic of growth in any group. If .we considered the dynamic growth of a group in five major stages: 1. Convocation, 2. Phase of human relationships, 3. Period of maturing of the ideal of a group, 4. Period of consolidation, 5. Permanence or disappearance ot~ the group, we would find parallel stages of growth in the prayer group. Moreover, it would be quite unreasonable for anyone to expect in the early ph.ase of convocation the results that come only after time together, growth suffering--real asceticism --in the later stages of group growth. On the other hand, some prayer groups never really move beyond the second phase of group development 1258 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 and the result is a weekly, monotonous repetition of the same petitionary prayer in a friendly atmosphere. Moment of Convocation ¯ A group will come together (moment of convocation in group develop-ment) only if there already exists some mutual acceptance and common aspirations. The reason for setting up the group for shared prayer is gen-erally the same clearsightedness or deep awareness and realization that salvation consists in brotherhood--and the brotherhood is a praying-sharing community. The setting up of the prayer group demands deep faith con-viction regarding group growth and this vision must be shared by the group who already have a certain basic mutual acceptance and trust. If these prerequisites are not present, then it would seem a waste of time to attempt to set up a group for shared prayer; and it must be admitted that frequently, even within religious communities, there is too little faith and vision for the existence of group growth. Mariy communities are characterized by an individualism which guarantees the permanence of partial Christian spiritual growth. It must be said that many who dedicate themselves to community living seem unaware that this implies group growth. This preliminary step in group development---convocation has the effect of setting up the group for shared prayer. Period o4 Growth in Human Relationships There follows a pdriod of growth in human relationships within the group when in the prayer group the continued sharing of prayer leads to growth in self-acceptance, and in acceptance of and trust in others. The prayer becomes richer and more deeply shared--because I won't say things if I don't trust. Another direct effect at this stage is increased sensitivity to others, and to the presence of the Spirit in others. This leads to an experi-ential knowledge of who the Church is. It is important that the life of the prayer group be not just the moments of shared prayer, but rather be frequently enriched, at this stage, with various get-togethers of a social, even recreational, type. This can facilitate the development of trust, sensitivity, and mutual acceptance necessary for the development of group prayer life at this stage. However, it is important, during this time, to maintain the sharing principally on the level of faith-prayer- sharing and not allow it to become a mere socializing. Moreover, to improve the quality of the prayer, and the trust and sharing which are basic to it, the group, during this period in its own growth, could complement the shared prayer sessions with other periods of group discussion, revision of life, revision of prayer. Unfortunately, some groups just plod on week after week with a medi-ocre shared prayer and never pass through this second phase in the life of any group. Shared PrayerI"zn Religious Communities Today / 1259 At this stage, some within the group become dissatisfied with the quality of prayer life and leave. Some overemphasize the socializing dimensions and are not prepared to accept the demanding aspects of group asceticism and growth in shared prayer and they too leave the group. Tension results and this is the first main crisis in the prayer group's life. It can be overcome when the group searches to clarify the true direction of its prayer life together. Maturing the Group's Ideal A third phase in any group's psychological development is the period of maturing of the ideal of the group. Possibly, we could take a glance, for a similar situation, at the advice given by Paul to the Corinthians. Accord-ing to Paul, in all prayer meetings the group should emphasize that which exhorts, encourages, and builds up the community to the glory of God. These are effects that result from a qualitative improvement in the prayer life of the group at this stage. It becomes a period of increased mutual understanding, increased sensitivity to others, much deeper prayer sharing. At this stage, the group begins to understand the phases of spiritual life through which individuals in the group are passing, and when personal difficulties or "nights" in prayer come, the group can be supportive. I personally feel that it is only after a sufficient time has passed that in accepting, sharing, and making one's own another person's prayer we grad-ually totally accept that other person. Younger people in religious com-munities accepting older members completely, implicitly accept in them and through them the traditions of' an institute which otherwise they would probably never have absorbed so completely. This period is vital for the shared prayer of the group. It ought to be supported frequently by other meetings dedicated to revision of the group's shared prayer. I consider this point as the key to the qualitative develop-ment of the group's shared prayer--frequent group revision of the prayer. Period of Consolidation The period of consolidation is a moment of maturing in the group's development. For the prayer group it is the time when the quality of sharing in prayer opens the group to the total Christian vision of salvation in com-munity. Sharing becomes not only an attitude in prayer, but a life style. The members become profoundly convinced of being Church--being just parts of a total body which expresses itself in many ways. It is a period of real, though partial, realization of the original vision. It is also the period of openness to others outside the group. The group which came together for prayer finds now that the union achieved in sharing prayer is of sign value to the world, and the group now takes on increasingly the apostolic dimensions of witness to the union, sharing, and love which are of the 1260 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 essence of Christianity. The union, trust, and sharing developed in prayer are contagious and expansive. Naturally enough, any group that becomes exclusive or even develops a certain type of spiritual ghetto has not reached this stage at all; in fact it has probably not even reached the preliminary moment of convocation in faith. That such prayer groups exist is also undeniable. The Final Stage The final stage in the psychological development of a group is the mo-ment of growth, expansion, or division. This crisis is the result of fullness and indicates the moment when the group sharing prayer should divide in order to be able to open to more people. No group should ever be exclusive nor is it a healthy sign when it is always the same. Rather, the growth achieved through group sharing in faith and prayer must be communicated. The sharing in prayer leads to a sharing of life and this sharing of life must not be just for the group but a gift for others. I realize that reality is more complex than a scheme, and life richer than a list, but I feel too that it is important to know the dynamic growth through which a group passes, and know what this can lead to in spiritual sharing in prayer. I have here tried to use one of the simplest ways of view-ing this. The general effects of shared prayer are increased acceptance, deepened trust, mutual understanding, increased sensitivity; those within the group receive exhortation and encouragement. They are helped in expressing themselves in prayer and the general result is now as it was in Corinth--the building up of community. Forms of Shared Prayer We normally consider three forms of personal, individual prayer: vocal, meditative, and contemplative. I would suggest that, in group shared prayer, there are three parallel types. Ihdividual vocal or formula prayer has as its group manifestation shared spontaneous prayer in which the expressions of each one are unconnected but shared by the group. Personal individual meditative prayer is, in the group, paralleled by a shared meditation in which the discursive aspects of meditative prayer follow, not the developing thought of an individual, but the train of thought of the group--the group meditates as a single mind. The third form---contemplative--is found in its .group manifestation, in certain genuine pentecostal prayer sessions. The form of group prayer we are concerned with, and which is generally understood by the current title of "shared prayer," is the first kind--shared, spontaneous expressions of prayer. In this group prayer, it is normal to begin with a short period of silence, then of prayer to the Holy Spirit to illumine the minds and enkindle the hearts of the group--to come and pray in the group. This prayer is made by a definite leader who then opens the Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today / 1261 session with a reading, preferably from Scripture. This is followed again with silence--a strong, reflective moment from which vocalized prayer springs. When people begin to pray in their hearts--expressing the senti-ments brought forth by the reading--these sentiments should be vocalized for the group, and each person in the group unites himself with the prayer expressed. The word "shared" does not refer to the fact that we all pool together our prayers, but rather it refers to the fact that all in the group share the sentiments of anyone who vocalizes his prayer. Therefore, it is possible for someone who never vocalizes prayer within the group to share the prayer of all the others. It is not necessary to speak to share prayer. It is necessary to unite oneself with the prayerful sentiments of another. The leader should have a definite time to bring the session to a con-clusion. Some Problems Met in Shared Prayer When a group is just starting, it is frequent to find that all the time allotted to the session is filled with prayers of request. This is natural enough and is normal in the development of individual prayer too. The group should not be worried or discouraged by this, provided that, eventually, the prayer begins to open to praise, glory, adoration, thanksgiving, and sorrow. Again, the group should be on its guard that the time for shared prayer is not too full. If one after another within the group expresses prayer without much silence, then there is probably little listening. I can't come in straight away with my prayer if I was really listening and uniting myself totally to the prayer of the previous speaker. Good shared prayer needs silence and listening. Some will say that shared prayer is not natural, they feel uneasy and self-conscious. This is undeniable. For some it seems very artificial. On the other hand, anyone who begins to meditate following an Ignatian or Sulpi-clan or Carmelite method will undoubtedly feel the same way. Moreover, just as it becomes easier in personal meditation once the method is mas-tered and forgotten, so too in group shared prayer. Others will become frustrated by the slow development of the prayer and claim that what they have is better. I can only say that shared prayer needs time to develop. There could be no enrichment in any sphere of ex-istence without the tediousness of the early stages. A difficulty, or definite danger, that needs to be avoided is the substi-tuting of a pseudo dialogue for shared prayer. In'a period of prayer, instead of praying, we try to tell each other something and, at times, subtly surface a rejection or problem we cannot otherwise openly speak about. This must be checked. At times, someone will pray and monopolize the time of the session with long-winded interventions. This, like the previous problem, is best dealt with through a periodic revision by the group of its own prayer. I 1262 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 repeat a point I have already emphasized--for me, personally, the key to shared prayer is the frequent revision of it. On such an occasion it would also be possible to recall to prayer those who may just drop to shared re-flection, because if it is shared prayer it should be kept at that level. Some people ask whether it is advisable to have a group for shared prayer within a religious community if not all the community wish to par-ticipate. I would think that, if shared prayer is a growth factor in building commui~ity, it should be used wherever there is a group. If the participants take care to avoid becoming a ghetto, keep people informed, always let it be seen to be open, then the rest of the community should have no cause to object. Finally, shared prayer is not a substitute for personal, private meditative or contemplative prayer. Anyone who uses it in that way indicates a lack of knowledge of the spiritual life, and a lack of correct perspective or re-lationship between individual and group growth. Shared prayer is an excellent form of group asceticism and leads to personal growth and the upbuilding of the community. It needs to be ap-proached with knowledge, guided by experienced members and continually open to revision, correction, and development. It is an indispensable ele-ment in group growth, but must be used with considerable flexibility--the pattern for one group is not necessarily that for another. As it develops and is used by more groups, the Christian will learn to move freely with others of common faith and be able to say with Paul: "I am longing to see you either to strengthen you by sharing a spiritual gift with you or, what is better, to find encouragement among you from our common faith" (Rm 1:11). In the Context of Discerning Sister Marie Beha Sister Marie Beha, O.S.C., is a member of the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Everything, everyone wants to grow: The desire is as universal as new grass springing up after early rains and warm sun. But growth is never any more predictable than the uneven development of an adolescent. We want to grow, but we can't make ourselves grow, nor can we control growth. All we can do is to further it or impede it. There are the laws both of nature and of spirit. What makes us grow must come from another: sun and truth to warm and enlighten us; food and love to nourish us. In terms of spiritual growth, it is pre-eminently God who enables us to grow and this He does with all the tenderness of His love. God desires that we grow and provides what we need for growth. Our part, and it is an essential part, is to collaborate with what is given to us, to co-operate with God's action in our lives. So a critical part of our life in the Lord is a.matter of discerning His unique call to us, of co-operating in becoming the person His creative love calls us to be. When we do, we grow; when we fail, we ourselves remain stunted and the coming of His kingdom is delayed. Granted that discernment is only one part of our growing. To know is effective only if we are willing to live out what we have learned. But it re-mains true that the first thing is to know, to discern. Paul speaks of "the mature who have their faculties trained by experi-ence to discern between good and evil" (Heb 5:14). And we might add, to discern not only what'is good and evil on the broad scale of things but to discover what is right for oneself, wrong for oneself, what is helpful at a particular time, what is impossible. In other words, discernment is not 1263 1264 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 so much concerned with the will of God in itself, but rather with the ways in which a particular person, in the concrete circumstances of everyday life, is drawn to respond to the Lord. As one matures, such deciding for oneself in terms of one's personal vocation becomes more and more necessary. General rules that apply to all have already been accepted and now must be passed beyond. What is uniquely personal must be" acknowledged and integrated into one's response. Such is the state of personal responsibility in which most Christians find themselves today as increasingly they must decide the specifics of their own life,~ relying less dependently on the laws of the Church. The present article hopes to deal with: (1) the context of discernment, the background within which discernment is operative; (2) some of the obstacles which prevent true discernment; and (3) conclude with some suggested criteria for discernment. Context of Discernment One of the most basic presuppositions of discernment is that it is an ongoing process, "ongoing" since discernment does not attempt to reach final answers which prescind from further need to discern. On the contrary, each discernment calls for yet another. It is like walking through a door, only to find still a further door to be opened, still another path to follow. Because of this, discernment is not just an exercise for a certain time of one's life, but rather something that must continue throughout life. If discernment has any seasons, these probably belong to the mature person, the one who has already incorporated into his life the general rules, the over-all direction and who must now make more specific application to his own life situation. So the focus continuously becomes more personal, more precise, more "vocational." Discernment is not only an ongoing necessity; in itself, it implies process. It does not reach infallible conclusions; it simply indicates courses of action which are clear enough to call for response. At this point, the focus of dis-cerning shifts from the original: Is this right, best? to How is'this effective in my life? What are its further implications? And the answers to these and similar questions may mean that the process has to be repeated. When this happens we need not feel that our first response was incorrect, a mistake. It may have been. But it may also have been simply a part of the process, the closing of a door that had to be opened and gone through before it could be honestly shut. If discernment, is process, then it takes time. How much time is some-thing that can only be determined in the very process. By this is meant that how much time a particular subject of discernment deserves is part of what must be decided within the context of discerning. If an issue seems of lesser importance, it may be the part of true discernment to spend only a minimal amount of time on it. But such a conclusion of triviality is already part of' In the Context o[ Discerning / 1265 the process, for what may b'e unimportant, in an objective sense, can be discerned to be critical in the context of an individual's life in the Lord; it can also assume increased importance at a specific moment of truth in an individual's life. Or the very raising of an issue of discernment may reveal that the time is not yet for this particular thing to be determined. Even though a decision would be helpful, efficient, even though other decisions may hinge on this one, there is nothing to do but wait for the right time to discern. One ot~ the surprises of discerning is the discovery that something which seemed to call for discernment has already been decided in the depths of one's own being. All the discernment process needs to do now is to reveal and so make explicit something that a person's life has already determined. In cases of important decisions that have to be made such a discovery of "it is finished" is delight and peace. In cases where reform and renewal are required, the discovery ot~ what has a!ready become vital is only the painful beginning of something that will require much labor. Discernment is not only process, it is a process most intimately, related to life. Its goal is life. In general, a positive discernment opens to life, to new life, to renewed life. It not only leads to fuller life; it is also something coming out of life. It comes, first of all, out of a life that is open to the Lord and His leading; and out of the reality of the individual's everyday. Dis-cernment is not theoretical, abstract, in the book; it is practical, specific, in the everyday. However, a caution is in order. Though daily life is one context of dis-cernment, it cannot be adhered to too narrowly, too pragmatically. Discern-ment can surface the unusual, the unexpected. It may seem to require an interruption, even an upheaval of the ordinary. But, I suspect, that when time has washed over the decision, even these unexpected developments, will be seen as congruent with the larger pattern of a person's life. And what appears to be an interruption proves, ultimately, to be only the surfacing of something that has been there all along. Continuity, even apparent discontinuity, needs to be tested against the reality of other people and of their lives. For the context of discernment is never solitary, just because our life in the Lord is never solitary. We stand before Him together and so the background for my discernment must be widened to include other persons with particular attention to those who are my neighbors. In some cases this may mean asking others for confirma-tion, suggestions, a different point of view. Even when such deliberate seek-ing out of others is not indicated, still the decision ot~ the individual must be viewed as part of love. Finally, the context of true discernment is always prayer, a life of prayer even more than specific prayer for he!p in each instance. Though an ex-pression of openness to God and desire to discern in the light of His truth is always right, still the most basic way in which prayer is part of the process 1266 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 is that it provides a continuing conscious relationship with God all through life. The more real this contact is for the individual, the more direct and simpie his process of discerning. For one who lives in the truth, discovers the truth almost intuitively. So vital is the part played by prayer in true discernment, that without it, discernment would be limited to a merely human weighing of pro's and con's, rather than responding to the specifics of God's call in one's life. Obstacles to Discernment What impedes the discernment process, even renders it invalid at times? The obstacles are as diverse and many-leveled as the reality of man him-self. On the physical level, we face as primary obstacles failures in timing and fatigue, to name a few. The former element of timing has already been suggested in the preceding discussion. Not only can we fail to discern be-cause we are impatient but also because we want too much too soon. So we are pre-disposed to seek what will flatter our ego and give us a sense of accomplishment. But in reality, we may be reasonably certain that the way in which we are going to come to God is not the way of egoism nor of still more total reliance on self. Fatigue, with its accompaniment of pseudo-discouragement, depression, and inability to get beyond the immediacy of our own inadequate state also clouds true discernment. Something as human and as simple as a good night's rest may open the way to greater truth. But such physical obstacles are relatively straightforward in comparison to the psychological difficulties which impede discernment. It even seems that the more refined the issues which must be discerned, the more subtle is the danger from blocks arising from the psyche of the discerner. Such blocks include any habits of thinking that make one less flexible, prejudices, any fixed patterns of behavior. For example, a pattern of thinking that the difficult is always the more perfect, a prejudice that rules out the pleasurable as somehow suspect impedes true discernment. Patterns of emotional re-action can also disturb and cloud one's response to what is truth in the Spirit. Anything that keeps us agitated, circling around self, critical of our brothers, angry with ourselves and with others becomes an impediment. Perhaps the most pervasive of these emotional blocks, though not the most apparent among them, is the presence of fear. Not conscious fear, with a reasonable objective basis, but the unreasoned fear, the subconscious terror that lurks in the dark. It is this kind of fear which inhibits true response, compelling us to react unreasonably. Such fear cripples freedom and so limits our presence to truth. It also projects a God, created out of its own unreality, destroying the possibility of a loving relationship with Him. Usually these emotional blocks are so deep seated and beyondconscious control that they can only be worked with when they are seen through the In the Context of Discerning / 1267 eyes of a more objective observer. Sometimes when they are surfaced and expressed to another just that much light dissipates them and true growth will go on from there. At other times, these fears must be acted against, strongly but gently, until counter patterns can be set up. How strongly, how quickly, will be part of the discernment process. At least they must not be allowed to blind the discerner, crippling the whole process. The spiritual obstacle to truth in the discernment process is sin, not only the sinful acts themselves but also all the tangled roots of selfishness, greed, lust, bitterness, jealousy that somehow enslave us and keep us at a certain distance from the truth of the Spirit who would make us free. It is a critical part of the process to expose these roots, to open them up to the hearing power of the Father's love. The more we have deepened these tendencies by our concrete actions, the more they will influence our discern-ment coloring it with their own distorted lens. As.a beginning to their ex-tirpation, such sins can be acknowledged and so be made less influential. At best, they can be diminished by our counter efforts and, far more, by the saving power of Jesus which we ask for in the effort to discern honestly. Criteria for Discernment The criteria for discernment are not objective standards with universal applicability but are themselves matter for discernment. Which criteria apply here, which are especially revealing, what is" the meaning of a par-ticular criterion, all these questions must be included in the process itself. With this in mind, we can state a few standards which can serve to stimulate and guide the process, preventing it, perhaps, from becoming too subjective. First of all, discernment aims at uncovering truth, personal truth, and so it must be rooted in truth. ~This means it must be concerned with the real, the practical, the possible in our lives. What is patently impossible can never be the call of God; what is very difficult may be. This difference is what must be discerned and then tested in the concrete of an individual's life. To aid in such testing, one can ask, does this particular "spirit" under-line what is human in me; does it strengthen what is healthy about my personality, rather than reenforce some tendency that is already unhealthy. In other words, does it strengthen my defense reactions or does it result in a lowering of my defenses, even though such an opening of myself may leave me painfully exposed at first. Discernment in truth raises such questions as: Where am I able to be most myself? What course of action grows out of my experience of self and calls forth my best self? Paradoxically enough, such a discernment of what is best for myself, will result in a capacity to forget about self. It will broaden from the truth of self to the larger and truer understanding of self- 1268 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 for-others. When this happens there need be no further hesitation; the truth of discernment is setting the self free. And freedom is a second criterion for discernment, for discernment can only arrive at the truth when it begins in freedom. The very initiation of the process must be a matter of the individual's free choice. If a person feels compelled to make adecisi0n, to come up with an answer, even when he realizes that the time has not yet come for working with this particular question, then the whole process can be set on a wrong course. In contrast, when the discernment begins in freedom, it ends by making the person more free. This is so true, that the experience of freedom gives some indication of a valid discernment. I say some indication because this experience of freedom may become apparent only after a painful period of struggle to integrate the newly discerned truth into one's life. This struggle may even be accompanied by a certain "compulsion" that is expressed in something like, "I must work with this now." This uncomfortable awareness that "now is the time" comes from within, however, and not from some external pres-sure, nor from a compulsion based on fear. When the individual can accept personal responsibility for what he feels "compelled" to do, then he can proceed in security and freedom. Freedom, as it is being used here, is almost synonymous with capacity to respond. The responsible man knows the reality of his own situation; he realizes and takes into account the needs of others and in doing this is free to answer "yes" with Christ to the Father. He is aware of the cost of his discipleship and willing to assume responsibility for it. In all of this he is free to discern and is being made freer in the very process. A third important standard for valid discernment is the criterion of unity. Can the particular result of this discerning be integrated into my life as an individual; does it serve to further unify and bring together the pieces of my life. When this is true, the new piece fits the pattern of my life and gives me a sense of comfort and ease. Such comfort and ease, however, may not be immediately apparent. Like a pair of new shoes, an unfamiliar truth or unaccustomed way of acting may take some breaking in, some getting used to but ultimately it should make the individual whole. Another way in which unity tests discernment is in terms of the com-munity. What will this course of action mean for others? Is it respectful of different gifts, of the complementarity of gifts? Again, this criterion must not be applied too readily. What may seem at first to be disruptive, what causes trouble to the community, may ultimately be for its peace. Perhaps this aspect of unity in community may best be tested in the willingness of the individual to consider the needs of others as part of his own discerning. Some of the differences between what is best for the individual and what is best for the community can be dealt with in terms of the gospel to which all are called. Does a particular object of discernment fit in with the message of Jesus in the gospel? Is it Christological? Paschal, involving both death In the Context of Discerning / 1269 and resurrection? When this is true it will bring peace to the individual and to the community. Not the peace of feeling that all is well but the peace of knowing that one is growing toward union with God. A fourth criterion of a discernment that is free, true, and unifying is the presence of a certain note of fidelity. First of all, the process must be faith-ful to the conditions for true discernment which have already been suggested. When these conditions are not met, when obstacles are not worked with, dishonesty eats holes in the foundation and the whole building begins to sink. In addition, fidelity, itself, is seen as open loyalty, coming out of a past and pointing ahead to a future. It must be consistent with the past of a person's life, unifying and giving a new meaning to what has gone before. This is so true that what has the elements of the new and unexpected to the casual observer will seem familiar and somehow right to the discern~r. Because true discernment comes out of a past it will often be characterized by a certain element of persistence. God's call to us has a way of repeating itself with growing insistency till we respond a "Here I am." But in the answering we come to recognize the call as something we have known, about for a long time, more or less consciously. Such recognition is, itself, an indication of a valid discernment. So truth in discernment is bound up with fidelity to one's past. But fidelity which only looks backward walks blindly in terms of the future. True fidelity has an element of openness which allows the individual to be moved ahead by the Spirit of God. In .practice what is discerned as right may not be equated with what is predictable. The Spirit blows where He will and this element of the unexpected is another assurance of His presence and His action. But the unexpected of God is not just the arbitrary. Quite often what we ourselves never expected, never dreamed of, is rather ob-vious to others; it may also become apparent to the individual once it has surfaced. In this case the surprise of the Spirit is welcomed with recogni-tion. Two other criteria for discernment are more specifically related to voca-tional discernment and its implications in the everyday of Christian life; these are the criteria of service and of prayer. When a directional force in life is to be discerned, or a particular course of action determined upon, a rather clear criterion is the question: Does this enable me to serve better? Does it allow me to become more aware of others, more open to their in-dividuality? Does it make me more compassionate? For one over-all direc-tion of life that must always be included in specific discernment is love. And in the Christian context love is spelled out as service so the where and the when and the how of my best service are always relevant evaluators. In a comparable way, prayer is both a means to discernment and a criterion for it. As m6ans to discernment, prayer calls for the most radical kind of openness before the Lord, a begging with one's whole being for 1270 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 His light and His direction. It requires more honesty than we can summon out of ourselves; it calls for the truth that is the Spirit of Truth. If our prayer is an occasion for spinning illusions about God and about ourselves, then we are not really praying. For prayer deals in revelation, not always the bright light of beautiful religious truth, but often the darkness of our need to be redeemed. Prayer makes demands: that we wait for the Lord; that we remain open; that we change; that we begin every day, new in hope. Prayer that begins with a sincere desire for the Spirit of Truth will form the background for the most searching of discernments. But in addition to providing context, prayer also helps in the process itself. Of a specific object of inquiry it asks, is this something I can comfortably take before the Lord? Will it stand testing in the light of exposure to His presence? Even to ask the question is sometimes to arrive at an answer. In terms of times and circumstances of one's life, the question can be phrased, Where and when is my prayer most real? Where does God attract me? Where am 1 most able to be present to Him? What have been theprivileged moments of my re-lationship with Him? These are questions for individual discernment, not matters for general application of pious principles. The question of where I am able to be most myself before the Lord and, more importantly, of where He can best reveal Himself to me are as uniquely individual as the core of my being. They can only be answered in the context of my life and its development. In all of these ways, through prayer and service, through fidelity to past and future; through a deeper integration of truth into our own lives and of our lives into the life of Christ; through doing the truth in freedom we finally come closer to that unique perfection to which God calls us as persons. In our own way and time we grow into that "wisdom which comes down from above which is essentially pure; which also makes for peace and is kindly and considerate; it is full of compassion and shows itself by doing good, nor is there any trace of partiality or hypocrisy in it" (James 3:17-8). Discernment of,Spirits in the Choice of Ministry: A Sociological View Leo F. Fay Dr. Leo F. Fay is the chairman of the Department of Sociology; Fairfield University; North Benson Road; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. Introduction While the discernment of spirits as an aid to the. discovery of the will of God has a history that antedates even the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola, it has become a critical issue for religious only in more recent years. Prior to the post-Vatican renewals of religious life, discernment in the major decisions of a religious' life was made through submission to the will of superiors. As that traditional notion of discernment through obedience to authority has become deemphasized, the question of how individuals and groups of religious should make decisions has been receiving more and more attention. Most of that attention has been theological. Articles and treatises have been written on the how, when, and why of discernment, but usually from the theoretical and normative stance of the theologian. The present article is an attempt to broaden the discussion of discernment, especially as it relates to the choice of ministry, by injecting the empirical and descriptive viewpoint of the sociologist. One of the assumptions behind this effort is that theological reflection on religious life and behavior can have disastrous consequences if it is not formed by a sociological analysis of the .empirical realities of religious life and behavior. Often, for example, theological efforts at renewal will quite correctly assume that a particular form or practice traditional in religious life has come intrinsically meaningless and outmoded. It may be, however, that such a practice has definite, if latent, social functions which are crucial 1271 1272 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 to the very existence of religious life and must be satisfied in another way. Three questions will be examined in this article: 1. What is the actual process of discernment in the choice of ministry? In other words, in what context; or under what circumstances, or in what setting does the contemporary religious make her choice-of-ministry deci-sions? 2. What is the content of discernment in the choice of ministry? In other words, what sort of considerations and motivations are religious in fact using in making those decisions? 3. What are the major problems with these trends, from a sociological point of view, for religious life and communities, and what directions might prove fruitful in the search for solutions? The Source of the Data The data for this article were collected from questionnaires distributed to 442 sisters of one of the American provinces of an international institute. 396 sisters (88%) returned questionnaires in this study of personnel plans and attitudes. The parts of the questionnaire that are of special relevance to our concerns here are two: a question designed to find out how the sisters themselves perceive and describe their own process of discernment when they are faced with a choice-of-ministry decision; and the reasons they give for choosing (or preferring) a particular ministry. The Process of Discernment The question of the sisters' perception of how they actually go about deciding on a choice of ministry listed thirteen alternatives for the respon-dents to choose among in describing their own discernment process, and left a fourteenth space blank ("other") in case they wished to express another possibility. Six of these alternative responses were authority-related: they included the bishops of the Church, the general chapter, the superior general, the provincial, provincial administrators, and local superiors. Four of the questionnaire items were personal (namely: "my own conscience," "my own reasoning and thought processes," "various kinds of reading," and "my own feelings and emotions';), and three were social (namely: "historical events and social conditions," "communication with other sisters," and "communication with the people I serve"). The results are very clear. The sisters' description of how they go about discernment in the chbice of their ministry is a description of an overwhelmingly personal process. The social context is a very poor second, and obedience to superiors is on the bottom of the list. The sisters were asked to rank the thirteen (or fourteen) items in order of importance to them personally in their own discernment activities. When we look at their first choices, we See that272 sisters (69.6%) base their discernment of God's will on processes that are basically personal, isolated, Discernment of Spirits in the Choice of Ministry / 1273 an individualistic. Forty-six sisters (11.6%) focus on social processes, and 14 sisters (3.5%) use authority-related processes. If we look, not just at first choices, but at the sisters' first three choices, the same general pattern persists, except that both authority-related and social processes do a little better. Out of 1188 responses (396 sisters × 3 choices) 7.9% are authority-related, 26.2% are social, and 53.5% are personal. The Content of Discernment The sisters who responded to the survey were asked to name specifically the ministry they expected realistically to be engaged in twenty months later, the ministry they would ideally prefer to be engaged in at that time, and the reasons for each of these choices. The questions on their reasons listed twelve items as possible answers and left the thirteenth space ("other") for expressing still another reason. Three of the alternative responses can be described as work-oriented (namely: "I f~el that position would make best use of my training," "I like that type of work," and "I am ready for another career"); three can be described as personal (namely: "my health makes it the best clioice for me," "I feel obligated by family circumstances to choose that position," and "I don't feel ready to undertake a move at this time"); three are situational (namely: "I would like to retire," "I like the living situation that goes with that position," and "I like the kind if clientele I would be serving in that position"), and three are congregational (namely: "I want to work with a group of sisters of this congregation," "I feel per-sonal loyalty to the position as a commitment of this congregation," and "I feel it is my duty to the congregation to fill that position"). The differences between the reasons the sisters gave for their choices indicate that the content of their discernment is overwhelmingly work-oriented. Looking at the sisters' first reasons only, we see that 37.2% named one of the work-oriented reasons first, 18.6% named congregational reasons, 12.4% had situational reasons, and 6.9% had personal reasons. If we con-sider the sisters' first three reasons for their projections and preferences, we find that 33.7% of the reasons given were work-oriented, 18.8% were sit-uational, 15% were congregational, and 5.7% were personal. Problems Arising from the Data From a sociological point of view, the data on the process of discern-ment in choice of ministry do not bode well for the viability of religious community. It might be serious merely to have discovered that obedience to a common authority is no longer of major importance in determining what the members of a religious community do with their lives. What is more serious is the discovery that the religious perceive the process they go through as so thoroughly personal, isolated, and individualistic. Serious 1274 / Review ]or Religious,' Volume 33, 1974/6 questions are suggested by these findings for both the community and the individual religious. From the point of view of the community (house, province, or entire congregation), the questions center on planning and even survival. What does it mean for any organization, religious or not, if the individual members see themselves as isolated and alone when it comes to deciding what to do with their lives, how to behave from day to day, and what their aspirations are? I am not referring here to the matter of obedience to authority; I am referring primarily to the fact that the religious do not see themselves as making decisions in response to their fellow religious, to the people whom they are sent to serve, or to the historical and social conditions of the world they are called to serve. From the point of view of the individual religious, the questions are of a more psychological nature. They come down to the difficulty of working out a meaning for the life she is leading. Traditional religious life, with its customs, rule, obedience, and so forth, did have advantage of a very clear meaning for most of its adherents most of the time. As these traditions have changed in response to the new respect for the person and for individual responsibility, the clarity of the meaning of religious life for the individual has been clouded. Now each religious is in the position of having to inte-grate into a coherent meaning system the apparently contradictory styles of corporatism and personalism, of commitment and freedom, of choice of ministry and responsible group membership. That integration is not easy. By contrast, the data on the content of the religious discernment in the choice of ministry seem much less problematic. The high degree of emphasis placed on work-oriented considerations suggests a professionalism that an outsider can only admire. Likewise, there is a solid (though much smaller) group that giv~es primary consideration to the needs and responsibilities of the religious institute. However, the strong emphasis on work, which suggests professionalism, does reinforce the problems already mentioned. Professional attitudes have consistently been found to be correlated with the need for personal auton-omy and independence; and whenever the latter qualities are found in any kind of corporate organization, they aggravate the tension between the needs of the organization and those of its individual members. Suggestions for Solutions It may very well be that, for those institutes which have established it, choice of ministry was an organizational mistake. Nevertheless, it seems to be firmly entrenched and destined to spread, so solutions to the problems of corporate unity and individual meaning must be found that are com-patible with it. I suggest that there are two general directions in which partial solutions may be found. The first direction goes to the process of discernment and concerns its Discernment o[ Spirits in the Choice of Ministry / 1275 formalization. The clear evidence that religious perceive their own discern-ment procedures to be isolated and individualistic suggests the need for instituting relatively formal and structured social procedures to be made available to all individual religious who are faced with a choice-of-ministry decision. These procedures should involve the participation of a variety of other persons: perhaps a few representatives of the province or congrega-tion, representatives of the ministries the individual is considering and of the one she is leaving, and a few close friends. If the individual should elect to go through such a formal procedure with a group like that, it would widen the perspecti~'e from which she views her choice and would lessen the isolation she feels in making it. The second direction goes to the content of discernment and concerns the introduction of a broader scope of factors to be considered in making choices. Since the evidence we have suggests a high degree of profession-alism which will likely be accompanied by increasing independence from the institute, a partial solution lies in keeping considerations of the institute's needs and responsibilities in the individual's consciousness. One practical way of doing that is the mechanism of communications from particular houses or works to the whole province or institute. Province newsletters, helpful as they are in many other respects, cannot satisfy this point: local communities and groups themselves must do the communicating. Further, these communications should avoid at all costs being theoretical, propa-gandistic, or complex, and should strive instead to be concrete and anecdotal, newsy, personal, and simple. Both these suggested solutions, of course, derive from the same funda-mental truth of social organization: as any group undergoes change in its traditional way of life, the greatest danger it faces is disunity and conse-quent disintegration. To avoid that, deliberate, even self-conscious steps must be taken to make concrete and real in the lives of individual members their membership in a corporate group. On Praying and Being Human: Reflections on the Anthropological Value of Prayer Eric Doyle, O.F.M. Father Eric Doyle, O.F.M., is a member, of the faculty of the Franciscan Study Cen-tre; University of Kent; Canterbury, Kent CT2 7NA; England. Introduction This article contains reflections on the activity we call prayer in terms of its anthropological value. Such an approach is possible because of the prior anthropological character of revelation, faith, and theology. Since there are two key concepts involved in these reflections, namely, anthropology and prayer, the articl~ has been divided into two major parts. The reason for presenting these reflections in a review intended principally for religious will be clear from the content of the first part of the article. I Christology and Anlhropology The Christological doctrine of the Church, if correctly understood, is the most radical and authentic anthropology the world has ever known. In the historical event which is the life, death, and glorification of the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, the Church has the source and center of everything that she knows and can ever know about God and man. Because He is the Incarnate Son of the Eternal God, Jesus of Nazareth discloses to us in the very reality of His own humanity who God is, what God is like; and this is expressed in its most original form by the words "Father" and "Forgiving Love." In the same way He reveals what it means to be man: the being in the world who is called in the innermost depths of his historical existence 1276 On Praying and Being Human / 1277 to surrender himself unconditionally to the will of God, as to his destiny, in faith, hope, and love. This is not to argue that the Church has nothing to learn about man from the historical, positive, and natural sciences or that she can ignore the teachings of psychology, psychotherapy, and sociology. What we are asserting here is that the Church has a point of reference for all that can be known about man and that point of reference is Christ who allows her to grasp the ultimate depth of meaning of anything that may be discovered about man. From this source and center there is one truth which the Church knows with infallible certitude, the truth namely, that God Himself is the guarantee of man's humanity. To surrender oneself to God is to arrive at one's own unique humanity. The process of growth in the relationship with God--a relationship established by grace which div-inizes and therefore humanizes man in his historical existence--is a process of drawing ever closer to the Origin of humanity itself and thus of becoming more authentically human. When the Church speaks of God, in virtue of the very word she utters, she says something about man; when she speaks of man in the light of the grace she has received in her Savior and Lord, she proclaims also a word about God. The Church's Doctrine of Man This essentially anthropological and authentically human orientation of the word she proclaims is the primary reason why the Church has a right to address herself to the world of today and to the men of our time. Above all, it is the foundation of her right to establish educational institutes of every kind and at every level--primary, secondary, and tertiary and of the right to present herself ready before the authorities of State and religiously "neutral" universities and other higher institutes of education, to form theo-logical faculties. She possesses a doctrine about man which has the courage to speak about his multi-dimensional nature and this doctrine is worthy of a hearing wherever and whenever men come together to pool their re-sources in order to grapple with the question of what it means to be human. It is true, of course, that this anthropological character of her word, her faith, and her theology has not always been apparent. Moreover, many people share the conviction that believers in God and especially theologians, are desperately concerned with some ideal world far removed from the stark realities of day-to-day life. Indeed, one still stumbles across the vulgar prejudice that theologians as a breed pass their time hairsplitting and jug-gling with ideas, oblivious of the world going on around them and even indifferent to its concerns. How far this idea corresponds to reality is, I suppose, a matter for some debate. In any case that it is now a figment of misinformed minds and has been for a good number of years will be obvious to anyone familiar with the development of theology in our times. It is incumbent upon us all who believe in the universality of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ who is Lord, to do all in our power to dispel these 1278 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 false notions and gross misunderstandings by the quality of our lives, the extent of our concerns, and the intellectual honesty, rigor, integrity, and high calibre of our theology. Christian Anthropology and Dialogue with the World The radically historical character of the Church's faith, in virtue of which she constantly returns to the life of the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, formally distinguishes the content of the Christian Gospel from all mytho-logical worldviews and explanations of the meaning of man. The doctrine of the historical incarnation of the Son must have a paramount place in all dialogue with atheists, anonymous Christians, and implicit believers. If we prescind for the moment from the source of the Church's belief in this doctrine, namely the gratuitous love of the Immortal God for mankind and concentrate on the content of the assertion as de facto held by com.- mitted Christian believers, we can make it our point of departure in the dialogue that we for our part are paying the highest possible tribute to .human dignity. The content of this assertion is that the being whom the human race calls God, the Supreme Being, is held to be present to and united with this Man who lived out a human life like other men and who reached His destiny in total fidelity to His own humanity and this in such a way that His humanity was not impaired or in any way abolished, but on the contrary.was radically realized as itself in its own true and authentic nature. The implications of this assertion for an understanding of man demand analysis precisely because of the influence that the content of this assertion has on the lives, outlook, and activity of a significant number of people today who own the name Christian, because of the history of the Church's understanding of this assertion, and because it is an essential ele-ment of the assertion that Jesus is most truly a man. The assertion cannot be dismissed simply by the shabby argument of "projectionism" firstly be-cause of the historically conditioned existence of this man and secondly because the assertion holds in its dialectic that by the vei'y fact that God is here, Jesus of Nazareth is the realization of what it means to be human. Revelation and Christological Anthropology This anthropological orientation of Christology must have priority also among Christian believers. This is the case not only that they may be able to present an intelligible account of the meaning of their faith to a largely sceptical and unbelieving world, but because it is part of the revelation itself. God's word and His grace are the foundation of authentic and integral hu-manity so that without Him we cannot be truly human at all. The anthro-pological orientation of Christology, therefgre, is in no way a betrayal of the specifically supernatural character of Christian revelation nor can it be suspected of reducing this revelation to a subtle form of humanism. Theo-logical science is not committed to answering riddles or solving problems in On Praying and Being Human / 1279 the manner of the positive and natural sciences. Its purpose in every age is to strive to understand man as he is and as he is becoming, in his finitude and openness as the being made in the image of God and called by God to share the divine life. This is an ongoing process which is always new and never exhausted. No matter howmuch more knowledge may be accumulated by man in the future, no matter how many more secrets may be wrested from nature, man will be always the being in history who is open to God and capable of receiving the treasures of divine grace. This would still be the case even in the condition of the world where the vast majority of mankind had ceased to have any belief in God at all. Leaving aside what might be said about such a state of affairs from a purely phenomenological standpoint, we would still have to proclaim that we have Christ's word in hope that He will be with us to the end. Though this word gives no guarantee about numerical quantity--and at present it does seem that the number of explicit believers is growing less--it is the sure basis that the Church will not disappear from the face of the earth and that the remnant will remain on behalf of the nations. Renewal in lhe Church What is written in these pages about prayer applies to every Christian believer and, for that matter, to any man who prays, as distinct from some-one who merely uses a method or follows a system in order to arrive at inner equilibrium. My reflections, however, are addressed specifically to religious in the Church and this for a number of important reasons. It is my belief that the renewal of the religious life is only now beginning to move out of its-preparatory stages. This is also true of the Church in general. The last ten years since the final session of the Second Vatican Council have been a time of re-assessment, of preparing the ground, of hammering out principles, and of establishing priorities. Much has been achieved, but there is quite an amount left to be done. Let us take one example: developments in ecclesiology. The Church has come to a deeper awareness of her own nature as a community of believers in the world. This community is founded on the gift of God's grace of unity which is logically prior to its every expression in faith, worship, life, and order. This awareness of the Church's nature as a community has had repercussions in every area of the Church's life. It has raised questions at the practical level which are by no means yet answered. For example: What do we mean by "community" when applied to the Church in general and when we use it of a local group in the Church? What is the relationship between a territorial parish as realized at present and the theology of the local community in terms of a constantly shifting population? How does liturgical celebration reflect and foster the presence of community? Should diocesan priests be scattered over a multiplicity of parishes in a town or area of a city where they are compelled to live alone or in groups of no more than two or three or should they work to establish 1280 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 a form of community life that is specifically priestly and not just a limp copy of religious life? If they were to live a much more realistic community life, how would they serve and retain contact with the people of those areas where once a priest was resident? What are the consequences for eschatology of this awareness of the Church as community? In what sense is "heaven" heaven before the Parousia of Christ? What is the relationship between a local parochial community and the community of a religious order in the parish? These are some of the questions that require us to reflect again on what may have appeared to us once as unchangeable structures and beliefs. A similar list might be drawn up with direct reference to the religious life. Enough has been said, however, to demonstrate that we ought not to allow ourselves to be lulled into thinking that the renewal is achieved and that we can now slacken our efforts. Religious and Spiritual Direction Religious life, as I have said elsewhere in this Review,1 is an indispens-able (not to say essentia!!) element in the life of the Church. If I read the signs of the times aright, then it seems to me that in the future members of religious order and congregations of men and women (I prescind here al-together from the question of the ordination of women, though it is by no means irrelevant to the point under discussion) are destined in the provi-dence of God to assume an ever greater if not the maximum responsibility for spiritual direction. This will be one of the finest fruits of the renewal of the religious life in the Church. It is already the case that people approach religious (and let us admit it quite simply and candidly that they approach us precisely as religious, that is, as those in the Church who publicly profess the evangelical counsels, however unthematic and even hazy their expression of this may be) with their questions or problems or mysteries and they rightly expect us to bring a spiritual dimension into the situation they present to us. They have the right to expect this of us for the simple reason that we are presumed to know something about the workings of divine grace in human life. After all, we have behind us the years we have spent in religious life with all the experiences of reflection and prayer that these years have provided--and we must not forget that it is the Church and God's grace, more than ourselves, that have made this possible. Moreover, we were called by God to the religious life for the sake of the Church. Psychotherapy and Spiritual Direction In emphasizing the importance of spiritual direction I am not denying nor even playing down the place of psychotherapy. Carl Jung has furnished us with more than enough evidence of how dangerous and uninformed such aErie Doyle, O.F.M., "Reflections on the Theology of Religious Life," Review ]or Re-ligious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 1258-60. On Praying and Being Human / 1281 an outlook is. Indeed, every religious, but especially those engaged in any form of apostolic work ought to read his profound and, in some ways, disturbing'essay, "Psychotherapists or the Clergy." Much of what he has to say about the attitude of the doctor may be applied without qualification to spiritual directors. One passage will suffice to demonstrate this. Speaking of the requirements in a doctor who wants to offer guidance to another he writes: We can get in touch with another person only by an attitude of unprejudiced objectivity . It is a human quality--a kind of deep respect for facts and events and for the person who suffers from them--a respect for the secret of such a human life. The truly religious person has this attitude. He knows that God has brought all sorts of strange and inconceivable things to pass, and seeks in the most curious ways to enter a man's heart. He therefore senses in everything the unseen presence of the divine will. This is what I mean by "unprejudiced objectivity." It is a moral achievement on the part of the doc-tor, who ought not to let himself be repelled by illness and corruption. We cannot change anything unless we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses. 1 am the oppressor of the person I condemn, not his friend and fellow-sufferer. I do not in the least mean to say that we must never pass judgment in the cases of persons whom we desire to help and improve. But if the doctor wishes to help a human being he must be able to accept him as he is. And he can do this in reality only when he has already seen and accepted himself as he is.'-' These words reminded me of a passage in the Rule of St. Francis of Assisi which, for all practical purposes, says exactly the same: "And they [the Ministers] must take care not to be angry or agitated on account of anyone's sin because anger and agitatiofi hinder charity in themselves and in others.":' The spirit and the psyche are intimately connected and any religious who bears the responsibility now or will do so in years to come would be well advised to acquire a basic knowledge of the principles and methods of psychotherapy. What I am anxious to stress in this context, however, is that spiritual direction exists in its own right and to imagine that it can be simply replaced by psychotherapy is patent nonsense. It would be as foolish to reduce spiritual direction to psychotherapy as it would be to hold that a glandular extract will cure a neurosis." New Forms of Prayer The new forms of community prayer, the sharing of experiences of God, the openness and sympathy in communicating joys and sorrows, emptiness '-'C. G. Jung, "Psychotherapists or the Clergy," in Modern Man in Search o] a Soul, trs. by W. S. Dell and Cary F. Baynes (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1933), pp. 234-5. aRule o] St. Francis, Chapter 5. 4See Jung "'Psychotherapists," pp. 223-3. 1282 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 and fullness, darkness and light experienced in the spiritual life are also providential in regard to this matter of religious and spiritual direction. It is a well-known fact that religious, especially in the United States df America and, to a much lesser extent, elsewhere, are leaders in these new forms of common prayer and this highly desirable openness in sharing with others one's experiences of God. All this has served to bring home to many religious the fundamental reason why they came to religious life, namely, to love and praise the Living God, His Son, and the Holy Spirit and to love and serve the brethren of that Son throughout their entire lives. The actual sharing of these experiences .teaches, as no book can, how God intervenes in a person's life, how His blessed grace renews people in the hidden depths of their being, how the Holy Spirit of God guides and enlightens people in the midst of the most humdrum and monotonous daily lives. I know from my own experience that listening to another person speaking about God's presence in daily life can actually become an experience of thd presence of God for the listener. Religious and Theological Formation The mushroom growth in the numbers of religious who are pursuing theological studies is also providential and here again the United States has the lead. So many of these religious are involved in education and formation at various levels and there are many of these who belong to the Charismatic Renewal Movement. One must be careful, therefore, not to brand this Movement generally as anti-intellectual. Of course the beast of anti-intellectualism shows its ugly head periodically in the history of the Church and these are areas where it is raising its head at the moment. Experience itself teaches unequivocally, however, that a solid theological formation is an essential requisite for spiritual direction. Indeed, ! would go so far as to say as a general rule, that without a protracted period of theological formation no one should dare to assume the responsibility of spiritual direction at all. By theological formation I mean a formation that is firmly rooted in the Church's tradition of theological reflection and not confused with "fashion-theology" which arrogates to itself the titles "exis-tential" and "personal," shifts its point of reference with every "new" issue and is as ephemeral as it is superficial. This awareness among so many religious of the necessity of a theological formation is born of the sound intuition that pietism, fundamentalism, emotionalism, and comforting plati-tudes just will not suffice for the apostolate of spiritual direction. All theo-logical endeavor is subservient to the faith and the Word of God and can never be an end in itself. In accord with the signs of the times, as they appear at least to me, we may say more specifically that the current widespread pursuit of theological formation among religious is directed towards achieving a greater competence~in spiritual direction the responsibility for which, as we have already said, religious will assume increasingly at every On Praying and Being Human / 1283 level of the Church's life and, for that matter, outside the body of committed Christian believers. The Experience of God It is obvious also that religious will have to be more prepared and willing to speak to those who come to them for this kind of direction and counsel about the experience of God in their lives and this without embar-rassment, but with courage and humility. Such openness is desirable and necessary not only because it will aid committed believers to recognize God's presence in their own lives, but also because of its witness value and the salutary effect it has on non-believers, sceptics, and the doubtful: Just as a solid theological formation furnishes the believer with the means of present-, ing an intelligible account of the faith and of giving reasons for accepting the Christian revelation which forbid the non-believer to dismiss the Chris-tian as a hoodwinked fool--even when no "proof" is forthcoming for what is believed, so also the readiness to speak in humility and honesty of the workings of God's grace and the experience of His presence in one's life, demonstrates that the believer is not someone merely committed to repeating intellectual propositions and to presenting the "party line," but a person made more human by the grace of God, which forbids the non-believer to brush religion aside as having no relation to concrete human existence. What has been suggested above about the increasing responsibility for spiritual direction on the part of religious takes on added seriousness in the light of the following passage from Jung's essay already mentioned above. It should be emphasized that what he writes is the result of his own researches: I should like to call attention to the following facts. During the past thirty years, people from all the civilized countries of the earth have consulted me. I have treated many hundreds of patients, the larger number being Protes-tants, a smaller number of Jews, and not more than five or six believing Catholics. Among all my patients in the second half of life--that is to say¢ over thirty-five--there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a religious outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which the living religions of every age have given to their followers, and none of them has'been really healed who did not regain his religious outlook. This of course has nothing whatever to do with a particular creed or membership of a church.:, With the principle of the anthropological character of the Christian revelation briefly established, we may now turn to the anthropological value of prayer. Jung pointed out, as we have already quoted, that a doctor can only accept a human being as he is "when he has already seen and accepted himself as he is."" We noted that this may be applied without qualification 1284 / Review [or Religiot~s, Volume 33, 1974/6 to spiritual directors. What we have to say from here onward can be taken as a commentary on this text as applied to the spiritual director. Our reflections belong, of course, to another dimension where science ends, but it is a dimension of human existence brought to be by the grace and the love of God. To direct and counsel another human being in the ways of God requires experience, personal prayer, theological formation, and some knowledge of the teaching of the classical author~ of spiritual theology. We are concerned here with one aspect of one of these requisites, namely, the humanizing power of prayer. By prayer one learns to accept oneself before God. The spiritual director must have already seen himself as he is before God and ~iccepted what he has seen. II. Praying and Being Thomas of Celano, the most famous biographer of St. Francis of Assisi, describing the Saint at prayer, tells us that "all his attention and affection he directed with his whole being to the one thing he was asking of the Lord, not so much praying, as becoming himself a prayer.''r This description serves to emphasize the principal point of these reflections: that prayer is not primarily saying something but being someone in virtue of a relationship with God Who is ever-present everywhere in the totality of His Being. The purpose of all prayer, be it liturgical, public, corporate, personal, vocal, or silent, is to deepen our union with God. It is essentially a relationship of union with God, made possible by God Himself who, in absolute freedom and pure loving kindness, bridges the infinite gulf that separates us in our creaturehood from Him the Sovereign Lord and Creator of the universe. In this relationship we draw ever nearer to Him and the nearer we are to Him, the more do we become like Him. The more we become like Him, the more are we made truly ourselves. We already have some faint notion of this on the ordinary principles of the Creator/creature relationship. In every man there is a desire, a longing--however it may be expressed--to reach the Source whence he came and to which he must inevitably return. Our cer-tainty in the matter, however, is given uniquely in the doctrine of the Incar-nation. Jesus Christ is the truest man, the most authentically human man who ever walked our earth. Jesus Christ the Man There has been great emphasis in recent times on the humanity of Christ and we have been advised frequently to throw off the shackles of the fear of Arianism. While this is a most desirable development in Christology, rThom~s de Ce,lano, I/ita secunda s. Francisi, 95, Analecta iranciscana, v. X (Flor-ence, 1941), p. 187: "Omenm sic et intuitum et affectum in unam quam petebat a Domino dirigebat, totus non tam orans quam oratio factus." On Praying and Being Human / 1285 we need to be on our guard constantly against any form of reductionism that would make Him no more than a particularly good man among men in the world. Nor should we forget that for Arianism not only was Jesus not God, he was not really man either, since the Logos (understood to be the first, the highest, and the noblest of God's creatures) was made flesh by taking the place of the soul in the man Jesus. What we need to stress now is that because Jesus Christ is God-made-man, he is more human than any man. In His humanity Jesus is set apart in His aloneness (not to be confused with loneliness), though He is not separated from us, precisely because He is so truly, so radically, so authentically, and so devastatingly human. Prayer and Human Life There is nothing that can make a man more himself than the constant effort to deepen his relationship with God by loving the divine will and living in the divine presence. The kind of response a man makes to the divinely-given awareness of the Blessed Mystery who is God, who penetrates every fiber of our existence, radically determines the type of person he is. Prayer is not some optional extra in our lives, not some purely peripheral activity out on the fringe of the real business of our concrete, practical monotonous day-to-day occupations, not a luxury for those with time to spare. Prayer is an indispensable element in our relationship with God springing from the trancendent dimension of human existence, without which nothing in our lives can ultimately have any lasting value or validity. This is the chief reason why those who hold that it is not necessary to pray if one works generously and devotedly for others, support a fundamentally anti-human doctrine. We know, of course, that there is a true sense in which to work is to pray, dependent on consciously attending to the things of God. But as anyone knows who has spent protracted periods in the active apostolate, work sooner or later begins to lose its attraction and become a boring burden. It is then that one understands the power and value of prayer: Without prayer there is s6on no work at all. Man is the being in the world who is becoming. He finds himself plunged into the flow of existence that is steadily making its way to a term. When he comes to ask himself the questions What is man? and Who am I? he discovers he is limited and finite, on the one hand and always something more, something beyond what he has thus far experienced, on the other. If the Source and Center of all existence is not somehow a factor in his becoming, then a man will never be human or r~ally himself at all. There is an area of mystery in every man at the core of which is an openness to God, the All-Holy One, who calls out to him from His own blessed eternity. Homo sapiens, the being who finds truth and reality not only outside him-self, but in the inner depths of his own being, must also be homo orans. If he is not the latter, then he will slip back into being no more than homo 1286 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 sciens--and knowledge only puffs up, wisdom it is that builds up. Man must progress from homo sapiens to homo amahs by being homo orans, that is to say, by praying a man becomes himself a prayer. Belief and the Existence of God The Eternal God is the Absolute Other. He is ineffable in His being, uncontainable, incomprehensible, inconceivable, incomparable, inimitable, indescribable, without beginning and without end; He is the Immortal One. For the believer the existence of God is the most obvious thing in the world. God and His grace exist more truly than the world of sense objects and experience that surrounds us and makes us what we are. The believer knows that God exists more really than he does himself. Many people would claim that these are smug and arrogant assertions; others would listen wistfully, thinking to themselves: "How fortunate believers are to know with such certainty that there is after all something to cling to, something to give meaning to life; how blessed they are to feel that life is not in the end empty, pointless, and absurd." These reactions fail to appreciate all that is involved in belief in God. For it is only when God is accepted totally in faith that the real problems confront the believer and these are infinitely greater than the question of His existence. These problems arise from man's existence who as a believer finds himself faced with the absolute demands of God's existence. For once a man believes in God and lives by his faith in union with Him, he becomes aware sooner or later that this God is the Holy God. Unlike goodness, power, mercy, justice, beauty, truth, unity, and peace, holiness is a quality which is not immediately part of our experience. Holiness is a reality of another order altogether. In the faith encounter with God a man becomes aware that he is known in the inmost depths of his being. This encounter with God as the Holy One reveals the seriousness of existence and the responsibility a man bears for his existence in the world. From this arises the concomitant awareness of creaturehood which can cause a man to cry out to God in anguish: "What moved You in the depths of Your own eternal blessedness to bring my existence out of nothing?" In the anguish is the answer: "Love eternal called you out from nothing-ness" and in this answer a man knows that the source of his anguish is Love itself. The Holiness of God God is holy and He bears a holy Name (Ex 3:1-6; Jos 24:19-20; Is 6:1-3; Ez 36:16-36). The almost impossible truth is that He demands of us that we be h61y as He is holy: "Be holy for I, Yahweh your God, am holy" (Lev 19:4); "Yes it is I, Yahweh, who brought you out of Egypt to be .your God: you therefore must be holy because I am holy (Lev 11:45); "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you, and scripture says Be holy for 1 am holy" (1 Pet 1 : 15). The holiness On Praying and Being Human / 1287 of God comes from His innermost Being which is separated from and utterly beyond everything that is finite and creaturely. God's holiness is not in the first place the opposite of sinfulness, immorality, and self-seeking-- though it includes the notion of moral holiness; it is rather the contrary of all that is not God Himself. God's holiness is the perfection of His Being which ineffably transcends everything created. In the fullness of His Being God is absolute identity between His Will and His Being. God is, simply and supremely. There can be no disparity, no contradiction between God's Being and God's Will: God is what He wills, He wills what He is. In His holiness lies the mystery of His Being, that is, the Mystery of what it is simply to be. God, then, is the Holy Mystery: Holy Source, Holy Wisdom, Holy Love--Holy Father, Holy Son and Holy "Spirit. God is the Mystery of the Thrice Holy One. God the Mysterium Tremendum et Fascinans The absolute identity of the Being of God evokes feelings of awe and reverence which go beyond the categories of the purely rational. Our utter creaturehood is revealed to us in the awareness of God's holiness and this revelation occurs in the deepest recesses of the soul. In His holiness, God is both terrible and attractive, the Mysterium at once tremendum and ]ascinans as Rudolf Otto has profoundly analyzed and described it? In the presence of the Holy God man is both afraid and not-afraid at one and the same time as Rat explained to Mole in The Wind in the Willows: Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him. "Rat!" he found breath to whisper, shaking, "Are you afraid? . Afraid?" murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. "Afraid! of Him? 0, never, never! And yet---and yet--O, Mole, I am afraid!" Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.~ God is the Rex tremendae maiestatis who is revealed to us as the one who is and, as such He is made known as utterly beyond us. As Pure Being He is so utterly other that when He is encountered in His holiness He inspires awe and reverential fear of necessity because as the Holy One He is unknown and precisely as holy is totally outside all previous experience. Were it not for Him we should not be able to sustain the awareness of Pure Being. Man experiences himself as divided and disorientated in his existence; there is always tension between his being and his willing, disparity and SR. Otto, The Idea o] the Holy: Apt Inquiry into the Non-rational Factor in the Idea o] the Divine and Its Relation to the Rational, trs. by John W. Harvey (Oxford: Oxford University, 1923). OK. Graham, The Wind in the Willows (London: Methuen Children's Books, 1972), pp. 92-3. 1288 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 open contradiction between what he is and what he wills. His being is fragmented and dissipated in its finitude and creatureliness. Yet God draws near to man; though He dwells in light inaccessible, He approaches man and reveals Himself as Holy Mystery and Divine Majesty. It is because He draws so close to us that we know Him to be totally other and utterly beyond us. A man is confronted with the truth of Pure Being and Total Unity and he is filled with awe and fear in the presence of such unambiguous simplicity. At the same time, however, this revelation of the holiness of God makes known to us that we are in some way like unto God. The meaning of having been created in the image of God is disclosed in all its wonder. Because He is One, the pure identity of being and willing, God is experi-enced as attractive, alluring and fascinating. In the absolute simplicity of His holy existence God is the fullness of reality. Man strives by the law of his being to be and to be more; he searches out and is drawn towards that which is to be most of all, most authentically and simply to be: the One who is the Holy Other and who lives forever. The Fidelity of the Holy God God the Holy One is revealed in the covenant wherein He pledges Him-self to man forever. Despite man's finitude, sinfulness, and ingratitude the covenant remains forever: "I will punish their sins with the rod and their crimes with the whip, but never withdraw my love from him or fail in my faithfulness. I will not break my covenant, I will not revoke my given word; I have sworn on my holiness, once for all, and cannot turn liar to David" (Ps 89:32-5). The fidelity of the Holy God evokes a personal attitude on the part of man which issues in adoration and establishes the foundation of true humility. In the presence of the Holy God man is made aware of who and what he is, not primarily of what he has done or has not done. God's holiness evokes an ontological attitude, one of being, not merely a moral or aesthetical attitude, which is brought about by the very presence of Pure Being and Simple Truth. The knowledge of God's holiness is what allows the man who arrives at it to integrate into his relationship with God the fact that he is a creature. The experience of the All'Holy God as the Mysterium tremendum et fascinans involves also an awareness of the absolute fidelity of God and of His total acceptance of a man as he is. This leads to self-acceptance as a creature and marks the beginning of the transformation into a new crea-ture. The realization comes that a man is known in the inmost depths of his being and this liberates him from the ambiguity of creaturely existence. Jesus Christ the Model of Prayer The unfathomable mystery of God the Holy One has been made known and drawn close to us. in the human life of the Man Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus On Praying and Being Human / 1289 Christ is the Father's Love which He will never take back; He is the Word that will never be revoked; He is the Covenant that will never be broken. In sending Jesus Christ to the world God has already accepted man and has already answered every prayer that might ever arise from a human heart. Since Christ is the foundation and center of the Christian life, it is only in contemplating Him that we can come to know what prayer means. We must now turn to Him whose life was itself an unbroken prayer to the Father. The pi-ayer of Christ is a favorite theme of the Gospel of St. Luke. He tells us that while Christ was praying after His baptism the Holy Spirit came down upon Him as a dove and a voice was heard from heaven: "You are my Son, the Beloved" (Lk 3:21). Again it was while at prayer that He was transfigured and a voice from heaven proclaimed: "This is my Son, the Chosen One" (Lk 9:28-,9). The foundation of Christ's prayer is the already established relationship with His Father, from which flow the desires of His will and the affections of His heart. Apart from the episodes where it is related that Christ went off to pray alone, St. Luke also tells us that Christ prayed in the presence of His disci-ples. This experience was one of the most treasured memories of the early Church: "Now one day when he was praying alone in the presence of his disciples he put this question to them 'Who do the crowds say I am' " (Lk 9: 18-9); "Now once he was in a certain place praying and when he had finished one of his disciples said, 'Lord teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.' He said to them, 'Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy' " (Lk 11:1-2). This must have been a frequent oc-currence in the disciples' experience, and it wasone they remembered in their preaching and one which the Church preserved for us in the Holy Scripture. There must have been something truly remarkable and unforget-table about the sight of Jesus at prayer. In the episode which records that He taught them the Our Father, the Evangelist states quite simply: He was in a certain place praying. It is not said that he was in ecstasy but simply that He was praying. It was evidently the sight of Jesus at prayer that moved them to ask .Him to teach them to do the same. What can have moved them to ask Him to teach them to pray? After all they were Jews and therefore familiar with pr.ayer.1° The daily life of the pious Jew was filled with a round of prayer. Yet all this had not taught them what the simple act of this man at prayer had called forth from the inner depths of their being. One can try to picture the sight of Jesus praying in the midst of His disciples and try to discover what made them ask Him to teach them to pray. Perhaps it was His serenity, the entire composure of His being; perhaps they wanted to get at what was going on in His heart and mind that made Him the kind of man He was. If we reflect a little on the passage ~"Joachim Jeremias, The Prayers o] Jesus (London: SCM, 1969). 1290 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 in Luke 11 : lff., the answer will be seen to lie in what He told them to pray: "Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy . " He told them to say "Father." It was this that came to His lips without hesita-tion, quite simply and in utter confidence. Perhaps this was the very word He had been using when they saw Him at prayer. In any case, the word "Father" tells us almost everything we need to know about Jesus and it is the clue to what caused His disciples to ask Him to teach them how to pray. He taught them to say "Father." This familiar little word, which no con-temporary Jew would have dared to use of God, Jesus made the heart and soul of all prayer for ever. The Sublime Mystery of God, the Sovereign Creator of the universe, is addressed by this Man in a term so familiar that it can only be translated "Daddy." God is our "Abba." What the disciples experienced, therefore, was not so much a man saying something as being someone. They saw Jesus the Son, that is Jesus being totally Himself in the presence of the Most High God. In teaching the disciples His own prayer which expresses the intimate relationship He had with Gdd, Jesus revealed to us well-nigh everything about God: His kindness, His love, His tenderness, His mercy, His desire that we approach Him on the same intimate and familiar terms as did Jesus Himself. We will never be able to grasp what it means to address God as Father because this is one of the most staggering mysteries of the entire revelation we have received in Jesus Christ. We say this prayer very often in liturgical worship and in public and personal prayer. We must always be on our guard not to allow it to become no more than a mere jingle of words. The Church has always treasured this prayer of her Lord and she always will. It is a matter for some sadness that the translations of the Mass have rendered the introduction to the Our Father Praeceptis salutaribus moniti et divina institutione forrnati audemus dicere by the limp invitation "Let us pray with confidence to the Father . " This rendering fails abysmally to express the sense of privilege and utter distinctiveness that audemus dicere contains. In this prayer we are using the very words of Christ and we are allowed to do this for no other reason than that He taught us to address God in His words and He drew us into His relationship with the Sovereign Lord of life and death. This sense of privilege has been beauti-fully retained in the translations of the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysos-tom: "And make us worthy, Master, to dare with confidence and without condemnation to call You Father, O God of heaven, and to say: Our Father . -11 By divine grace, which is the life and love of God Himself, we are truly 11"The Divine and Holy Liturgy of Our Father among the Saints John Chrysostom," Byzantine Daily Worship (Alleluia Press, 1969), p. 288; see also "The Divine and Holy Liturgy of Our Father among the Saints Basil the Great," ibid, p. 336. See also K. Rahner, On Prayer (New York: Paulist. 1968), p. 20. On Praying and Being Human / 1291 made God's sons an'd daughters. Now in human adoption there is necessarily r~quired a likeness of nature--the mother and father must adopt a human being. There is, however, no likeness of nature between God and man. God brings it about by His own most holy grace and we become like Him and are thus His sons and daughters. Human adoption is purely external, dependent only on the will of the adopter. In divine adoption there is realized an internal change so that we are rightly said to be born of God. Finally, in human adoption in order to succeed to the goods of the adopter, the latter must die. In divine adoption God the Adopter is always the Living God and we receive the riches of His love and eternal life in the very act of adoption. In coming to the awareness of God's holiness we arrive also at the knowledge of our own creaturehood--we come to acknowledge who and what we are. The.Incarnation of the Son discloses to us that we are accepted by the Holy God to the degree, that He makes us His sons and daughters and, therefore, that we are a new creation in Christ Jesus our Lord. With these two fundamental principles before our mind we can now turn to their practical implications for the life of prayer. Prayer and Becoming Ourselves The Creator/creature relationship has been transformed and elevated by God's grace to the Father/Son relationship of an entirely new order. In His revealing Word God has made Himself known to us as He is and it is through His Word that all prayer is possible. There have been many definitions of prayer, the best known being "the raising of the mind and heart to God." Yet every one of them proceeds from and is intelligible only in terms of this fundamental relationship with God the Father, through Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. The purpose of prayer, in all its modalities, is to lead us to conscious awareness and ever clearer recognition of the grace of being a son of God the Father. This grace is not an entity added to our natural being as spiritual creatures, but a radical assumption of our entire being by the love of God. It is a dimension of our human existence which God has brought into being. Prayer increases our awareness of divine adoption--Tthat is, of being this person before God the Father by reducing to conscious reflection this fundamental condition of our human existence. When we place ourselves in God's presence we are before the One who is at once our Creator and our Father. We are able to do this because He has loved us from before the foundation of the world. We are not the result of fate nor the plaything of chance, but unique, original persons called into existence by the creative act of God's most sovereignly free love. We were willed into existence by the love of God; we exist because God wants us, as ourselves, to exist. The Father saw us from all eternity in the face of His Christ and He always loved what He saw. The simple truths that God created us and allows us to address Him as Father, disclose to us that God 1292 / Review /or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 is Love, not only in Himself, but also to us. In this most radical, most basic sense God has already accepted us even before we are able to approach Him and it is this acceptance that makes any relationship with Him pos-sible. We must be careful, therefore, not to think of God as changing His "mood" towards us; He does not, because He cannot, grow hot and cold in our regard. We must not project our own changeability onto Him. God does not "spy" on us, He does not try to "catch" us. On the contrary, He gazes at us in His sovereign holiness from His blessed eternity and by this gaze conserves us in being. Through prayer we deepen the awareness of who and what we are in the very structure of our being and this is the primary reason why prayer is indispensable in self-development. Prayer and Self-acceptance The awareness of who and what we are before God also reveals to us the dark side of our spiritual nature. This is not a pure.ly psychological phenomenon; it has its origin in the mystery of iniquity. The refusal to admit this dark side of our being and the tendency to reduce the awful reality of sin to psychological disorders and cultural conditioning are among the chief causes of the spiritual sickness of our time. From the dark and sinful side of our nature proceeds the strange power which drives us to seek ourselves and to assert ourselves. Yet instead of bringing us to a uni-fied selfhood, this self-seeking and self-assertion have the contrary effect of splintering our being in multiplicity and of driving us into loneliness in the midst of the crowd. This dark and sinful side of our being must be acknowl-edged. We have all experienced the divided self; denial of it is itself a further proof of the division in ourselves. We wear so many masks and it is worth comment that the very word person which describes our uniqueness is derived from the Greek prosopon which originally meant a mask. Yes, we act, we play so many parts, we assume such varying roles according to the circumstances of persons, times, and places. In truth we are pretenders and hypocrites. And while we wear so many masks we are hiding from ourselves. In the midst of this frightening multiplicity we are unable to answer the question "Who am I?" So we run away from ourselves, we try to forget what we were yesterday and to convince ourselves that we really are ourselves today. We are disgusted because we are counterfeit and we try to lose ourselves in the feverish activities of our life of masquerade, while being driven further into the desert of loneliness, so that we dare not be alone. Emergence of the Real Self When we place ourselves in God's presence--and this means that all pretense ceases--we see ourselves in the light of God's Primordial Unity behind the masks that hide us. We recognize the multiplicity of our being. On Praying and Being Human / 1293 We see ourselves in the midst of all our pretense, hypocrisy, and acting. Yet the miracle is that we do not go mad, we do not commit suicide. In prayer the real self begins to emerge and with it and through it the deeper knowledge and conscious awareness that we are loved already and accepted; that is to say, we know God as Father and Forgiving Love. He has not condemned us, we are not oppressed. By the power and grace of His ac-ceptance we are able to accept ourselves; we no longer turn from ourselves in nausea and disgust. From the moment of self-acceptance the process of unification of our being has begun. Furthermore, this grace of self-accept-ance begins to make itself felt outside the formal moments of prayer. The real self begins to appear in our relationships with others so that we are no longer the victims of our changing environment. The masks begin to drop away to reveal the much more delightful, lovable, and authentic some-one who was hidden under the rubble of hypocrisy ,and pretense for so long. Self-acceptance, however, must not be thought to be recapitulation before our sinfulness nor passive resignation in the face of our divided being. It is the realization of ourselves as creatures of a Loving Creator and sons of a Tender Father which defines our inmost being and which allows the absolutely unique, never-to-be-repeated, utterly original someone who we are to emerge from the depths of our being. With this comes the concomi-tant awareness of the uniqueness of others. Even in the act of speaking to another person we become more and more aware of the love of God and we are no longer afraid to let another look into our eyes. Self-acceptance through prayer brings recognition of one's dignity as creature and son of God. As creature we realize we owe to God our adora-tion, thanksgiving, praise, worship, and honor; as sons we know we owe Him our love. To love God with all our heart, our mind, our soul, and our strength--this is our dignity in the world as sons of God. Once we have learned this self-acceptance we will never be lonely again. Rather, we become conscious of our aloneness in the world which is part of our uniqueness. This brings with it a longing to be alone whenever life will allow us in the midst of all our duties, responsibilities, and work. These moments alone will be amongst the most blessed in our life, for they will be spent in the presence of our Creator and Father before whom, with whom, and in whom we will be most truly ourselves. Prayer and True Self-love Self-acceptance through prayer leads gradually to a true self-love. After a time God reveals to the man who prays that He does really want the love of the human heart. This brings us, of course, to the center of the mystery of Divine Love. How is it possible that the Eternal God in the self-suffi-ciency of His Triune Blessedness should want the love of the human heart? And yet this is the simple and staggering truth of God's will for man. The knowledge of this truth reveals to us our dignity and worth before Him. 1294 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 God wants the love of my heart. If I refuse it, then He will never have it, because no one can stand for another or take another's place in loving God. God's love of our love for Him brings us to a love of self which is born of the awareness of our uniqueness. Self-love, thus understood, will preserve a person from the frightful stupidity of wishing.he were someone else. When one examines the implications of this stupidity, which is the worst form of envy, it becomes apparent that it is the most awful act of ingratitude to God. For He has given every one of us at least one talent of being ourselves. If we have two or five talents besides, all to the good. But let us not ignore the one that is the most precious 'of all--ourselves. If we hide this talent or bury it under pretense and hypocrisy, if we while away our time in daydreams, wishing we were someone else, then we are ignoring not merely what we have, but actually who we are and there will be no interest at all on the day of reckoning! Moreover, if we recognize this" one talent and love it as a gift from God, then we will avoid all odious comparisons. For which is the fuller, a glass filled with water or a bucket filled with water? The fact that the bucket has more water than the glass is neither here nor there as far as the glass is concerned! Finally, true self-love brings with it the desire to be like God, that is, the longing for holiness. We do not mean a desire for the effects of holiness, but for unity of our being and our will. It is a longing for integrity, a longing to rid ourselves of the disparity between who we are and what we will and it is one of the most precious graces God grants to us. Integrity is not achieved at once, of course; it is the fruit of long effort and the constant practice of virtue. It demands a rooting out of all self-seeking which is hidden in the depths of our being. We will come back to this in a later section. Prayer and Listening It is not easy to be a lisfener. We often wait for what we want to hear, sometimes we do not listen at all. So often we imagine that our own words are far more important than anything we may hear. In conversations we find ourselves waiting for the other to stop talking so that we can cast forth our pearls and give voice to our wisdom! How sad all this is; for We probably say far more in the silence of really listening than by all the words that pour out when we talk. It is no fancy to describe prayer as listening. Not that this means hearing voices or having words whispered in our ear. Prayer is a listening to God, listening for the word which says "I love you." Fo

Issue 32.1 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right © 1972 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor January 1973 Volume 32 Number 1 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Review for Religious Volume 32, 1973 / 1 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, 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 edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~ 1973 by Review ]or Religious. AIIocution on Secular Institutes On September 20 1972 members of the International Congress of Leaders of Secular Institutes were granted an audience with His Holiness, Pope Paul VI. During the audience the Holy Father delivered the following allocution, presented here in the English translation given in the Osservatore romano, English language weekly edition, October 5 1972, pages 3-4. Beloved Sons and Daughters in the Lord, once more we have the oppor-tunity of meeting you, Leaders of the Secular Institutes, who are and repre-sent a vigorous and flourishing section of the Church at this moment of history. The circumstance that has brought you before us is, this time, the International Congress which you have carried out and are about to con-clude here in Nemi, near our summer residence at Castel Gandolfo, and at which you examined the statutes of the "World Conference of Secular Institutes" (C.M.I.S.), about to be erected. We do not wish to discuss your work, which was certainly carried out with thoroughness and enthusiasm, under the watchful care and with the participation of the competent Sacred Congregation. We hope that it will reap rich fruits in relation to the increase of your institutions. Your Presence a Testimony We rather desire to dwell on some reflections about what the function of the secular institutes could be in the mystery of Christ and in the mystery of the Church. When we look at you and think of the thousands and thousands of men and women of whom you are part, we cannot but feel consoled, while a deep sense of joy and gratitude to the Lord comes over us. How strong and flourishing the Church of Christ appears in you! This venerable Mother of ours, whom some people today, even among her sons, take as the butt 4 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 of harsh, pitiless criticism; about whom some delight in describing fanciful symptoms of decrepitude and in predicting ruin; here we see her, on the contrary, bursting continuously into bud and blossoming beyond all expec-tation with initiatives of holiness. We know that it must be so and could not be otherwise, because Christ is the divine inexhaustible source of the vi-tality of the Church; and your presence offers us a further testimony of this, and is for all of us an opportunity for renewed consciousness. But we wish to scan your face more closely, in the family of the People of God. You, too, reflect a "specific way" in which the mystery of Christ can be lived in the world, and a "specific way" in which the mystery of the Church can be manifested. Christ the Redeemer is such a fullness, which we will never be able to understand or express completely. He is everything for His Church. In her, what we are we are just because of Him, with Him, and in Him. Also for the secular institutes, therefore, He remains the ultimate example, the in-spirer, the source on which to draw. Based on Christ the Savior and following His example you are carrying out, in your own characteristic way, an important mission of the Church. But the Church, too, in her way, like Christ, is such a fullness, such riches, that no one by himself, no institution by itself, will ever be able to understand her and express her adequately. Nor would it be .possible for us to discover her dimensions, because her life is Christ, who is God. So also the reality of the Church, and the mission of the Church, can be expressed completely only in the plurality of members. It is the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ, the doctrine of the gifts and charisms of the Holy Spirit. A Consecrated Secularity This is the point, as you have understood, to ask ourselves about your particular way of carrying out the mission of the Church. What is your spe-cific gift, your characteristic role, the "quid novum" brought by you to the Church of today? Or: in what way are you the Church today? You know the answer; you have by now clarified it to yourselves and to the Christian community. You are at a mysterious confluence between the two powerful streams of Christian life, welcoming riches from both. You are laymen, consecrated as such by the sacraments of baptism and confirmation but you have chosen to emphasize your consecration to God with the profession of the evangeli-cal counsels assumed as obligations with a stable and recognized bond. You remain laymen, engaged in the secular values characteristic of, and peculiar to, the laity (Lumen gentium, 31), but yours is a "consecrated secularity" (Paul VI, Discorso ai Dirigenti e Membri degli Istituti Secolari nel XXV della "Provida Mater," L'Osservatore Romano, 3 February 1972), you are "secular consecrated" (Paul VI, Discorso ai partecipanti al Congresso ln-ternazionale degli lstituti Secolari, 26 September 1970, Insegnamenti A llocution on Secular Institutes VIII, p. 939). Though "secular," your position differs in a certain way from that of mere laymen, since you are engaged in the same worldly values, but as consecrated beings: that is, not so much to affirm the intrinsic validity of human things in themselves, but to direct them explicitly according to the evangelical beatitudes. On the other hand you are not religious, but in a certain way your choice is concordant with the religious, because the con-secration you have made sets you in the world as witnesses to the suprem-acy of spiritual and eschatological values, that is, to the absolute character of your Christian charity. The greater the latter is, the more relative it makes the values of the world seem, while at the same time it helps their correct implementation by yourselves and by your other brothers. Both Aspects Essential Neither of the aspects of your spiritual nature can be overrated at the expense of the other. They are both equally essential. "Secularity" indicates your involvement in the world. But it does not mean only a position, a function, which coincides with living in the world by practicing a trade, a "secular" profession. It must mean in the first place awareness of being in the world as "your specific place of Christian re-sponsibility." To be in the world, that is, to be engaged in secular values, is your way of being the Church and of making her present, of saving your-selves and of announcing salvation. Your existential and sociological con-dition becomes your theological reality; it is your way to realize and testify to salvation. Thus you are an advanced wing of the Church "in the world"; you express the will of the Church to be in the world in order to mold it and sanctify it "from within, in the manner of leaven" (Lumen gentium, 31), a task, too, which is mainly entrusted to the laity. You are a particularly concrete and efficacious manifestation of what the Church wishes to do to construct the world described and desired by Gaudium et Spes. "Consecration," on the other hand, indicates the intimate and secret carrying structure of your being and your acting. Here is your deep and hid-den wealth, which the men in the midst of whom you live cannot explain and often cannot even suspect. Baptismal consecration has been further radicalized as a result of an increased aspiration for love aroused in you by the Holy Spirit; not in the same form as the consecration of religious, but nevertheless such as to induce you to make a fundamental option for life according to the evangelical beatitudes. So that you are really consecrated and really in the world. "You are in the world and not of the world, but for the world," as we ourself described you on another occasion (Paul VI, Discorso ai partecipanti al Congresso Internazionale degli Istituti Secolari, 26 September 1970, lnsegnamenti, VII, p. 939). You live a real consecra-tion according to the evangelical counsels, but without the fullness of "visi-bility" characteristic of religious consecration; a visibility that is constituted, 6 / Review lor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 in addition to the public vows, by a closer community life and by the "sign" of the religious habit. Yours is a new and original form of consecration, prompted by the Holy Spirit to be lived in the midst Of temporal realities, and to bring the strength of the evangelical counsels--that is, of divine and eter-nal values--into the midst of human and temporal values. The Cross of Christ Your choices of poverty, chastity and obedience are ways of partici-pating in the cross of Christ, because they associate you with Him in the renunciation of goods which are elsewhere permissible and legitimate; but they are also ways of participating in the victory of the risen Christ, since they free you from the hold that these values might have on the full avail-ability of your spirit. Your poverty tells the world that it is possible to live among temporal goods and use the means of civilization and progress, without being enslaved by any of them. Your chastity tells the world that it is possible to love with disinterestedness and the inexhaustibility that draws on God's heart, and to dedicate oneself joyfully to everyone without tying oneself to anyone, taking care particularly of the most abandoned. Your obedience tells the world that it is possible to be happy without stopping at a comfortable personal choice, but remaining fully at the disposal of God's will, as it appears from daily life, from the signs of the times, and from the aspirations to salvation of the world of today. Thus, also your activity in the world--both personal and collective, in the professional sectors in which you are engaged individually or as a community--receives from your consecrated life a more marked orientation towards God, it, too, being somehow involved and swept along in your consecration. And in this singular and providential configuration, you enrich the Church of today with a particular exemplarity in her "secular" life, liv-ing it as consecrated beings; and with a particular exemplarity in her "con-secrated" life, living it as secular persons. Priests in Secular Institutes At this point we would like to dwell on a particularly fruitful aspect of your institutions. We are referring to the numerous group of those who, consecrated to Christ in the ministerial priesthood and wishing to be united to Him with a further bond of donation, embrace the profession of the evangelical counsels, joining the secular institutes in their turn. We are thinking of these brothers of ours in Christ's priesthood, and we wish to encourage them, while we admire in them, once more, the action of the Spirit, indefatigable in arousing desire for ever greater perfection. What has been said so far, certainly applies to them, too, but it would require further study and clarifications. In fact, they arrive at consecration in the evangelical counsels and commitment to "secular" values not as laymen, but as ecclesiastics, that is, bearers of a sacred mediation in the People of Allocution on Secular Institutes / 7 God. In addition to baptism and confirmation, which constitute the basic consecration of the laity in the Church, they have received a subsequent sacramental specification in holy orders, which have constituted them hold-ers of certain ministerial functions with regard to the Eucharist and the Mys-tical Body of Christ. This has left the "secular" nature of Christian voca-tion intact, and they can therefore enrich it by living it as "consecrated" persons in the secular institutes. The requirements of their spirituality are very different, however, as well as certain external implications in their practice of the evangelical counsels and in their secular commitment. Ecclesiai Communion In conclusion we wish to address a pressing and fatherly invitation to everyone: to cultivate and increase ecclesial communion, to have it at heart always and particularly. You are vital articulations of this communion, because you, too, are the Church; never make an attack on their effi-ciency. It is impossible to conceive or understand an ecclesial phenomenon outside the Church. Never let yourselves be overcome by, or even give thought to, the temptation, too easy today, that authentic communion with Christ is .possible without real harmony with the ecclesial community gov-erned by the legitimate pastors. It would be misleading and illusory. Of what value would an individual or a group be, however lofty and perfect their intentions might be subjectively, without this communion? Christ asked us for it as a guarantee to admit us to communion with Him, just as He asked us to love our neighbor as documentation of our love for Him. You are, therefore, of Christ and for Christ, in His Church; this Church is your local community, your institute, your parish, but always in the communion of faith, of Eucharist, of discipline, and of faithful and loyal collaboration with your bishop and with the hierarchy. Your structures and your activities should never lead you--be you priests or laymen--to a "bi-polarity" of positions, or to an "alibi" of interior and exterior attitude, far less to positions in opposition to your pastors. This is our invitation; this is our wish, in order that you may be in the midst of the world authentic operators of the one saving mission of the Church, in your own characteristic way, to which you have been called and invited. May the Lord thus help you to prosper and fructify further, with our Apostolic Blessing. Address on Religious Life Paul On October 19 1972 Pope Paul gave an audience to the.representatives of the national conferences of religious institutes of men and women together with the "Council of the Sixteen," a group composed of eight superiors general of men religious and of eight superiors general of women religious. During the audience the Holy Father delivered the following allocution which is printed here in an adaptation of the English translation that appeared in Osservatore romano, English language weekly edition, November 5 1972, page 5. Dear Sons and Daughters: Let Us first of all express to you the joy and emotion that we feel on receiving you. With Us you bear the honor and the weight of a great responsibility: the guidance and the authenticity of religi-ous life today. Beyond your persons we behold the thousands of men and women who devote their lives to following Christ in the practice of the evangelical counsels. They represent an immense hope for Us and for the entire Church. You have responded to the appeal of the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes to review during these few days the aggiornamento that the Council and your chapters have aroused and implemented, par-ticularly on the plane of prayer and common life. You have tried to ascer-tain how to overcome the tensions that are appearing--they are probably inevitable--within your different congregations and how to live, in a certain pluralism, the deep unity to which the disciples of Christ must bear witness. We are deeply satisfied with your collaboration with the Congregation which is charged with attending to and presiding over the solution of these problems and thereby with serving you. We hope that this collaboration will be more and more frequent, trusting, and fruitful. Religious Spirit Within the framework of this brief meeting today, it is not possible for Address on Religious Li]e / 9 Us to take up all the questions raised by the adaptation and renewal of religious life. Last year in our apostolic exhortation Evangelica testificatio, We set forth for you Our concerns and hopes on this matter. In the Lord's name We defined the criteria of discernment that will help to guide you along this demanding but compellingly attractive path to a more evangelical life. Webeg you to keep before your eyes and to meditate upon the various elements of religious life which We emphasized and to do this without ne-glecting any of them. This morning our only hope is to revive in you the "religious spirit" that must mark your persons and your communities as well as your positive adherence to the Church. You have chosen to live your baptismal vocation in the particular frame: work of the religious life; rather you have agreed to serve the Lord in this radical way which is a deep response to an evangelical appeal, a way which has p~'oved itself in the Church for centuries and which the Church has authenticated as an unequaled and indispensable testimony of the Beatitudes. We speak frankly to you: Be consistent with yourselves, be faithful to your vocation, do not let this essential character of religious life--which is youi" role in life--dissolve either in theory or in practice. Most Christians are called to affirm their faith and to exercise their charity as laymen with all the temporal responsibilities incumbent on them; their testimony is essential as We have often stressed. Some of them ale doing so today with the sup-port and according to'the requirements of a secular institute; and we have recently [see the preceding article in this issue of Review ]or Religious] praised again this new initiative. But all of thes6 laymen need your faith-fulness to your specific vocation as religious men and women. In addition to the vows of consecrated chastity, poverty, and obedience, religious life demands, as you know, a common life lived in complete brotherhood. It requires a particular kind of asceticism which leads you to renounce freely and joyfully the goods of this world as a sign of your attachment to the Lord Jesus loved for His own sake and above everything and even to the cross. It is manifested in an obedience which makes you completely available for the will of our Father. in heaven through the con-crete appeals of the Church and" of your superiors; it is the way that Jesus lived in obedience to His Father through the conditions of His incarnation (see Jacques Guillet, Jdsus-Christ hier et aujourd'hui .[Paris: Descl6e de Brouwer, 1963], pages 109-25). In short, you must aim at evangelical per-fection (see Mt 5:48) so as to be permanently living signs of the tran-scendency o[ the kingdom ot' God. Paradox of the Gospel Certainly, tl~is sign will not always be understood, and this not only by the "world," as understood by St. John, but even by men of good will and even by your Christian brothers and sisters. And as a result you will suffer. For this world is not only attracted--and sometimes enslaved--by posses- Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 sions, power, and the flesh, but it has become supersensitive to the demand for personal development in the framework of complete autonomy. Accord-ing to some, your life may assume an aspect that is somewhat mysterious, strange, and even inhuman. And yet you know that what is foolishness in the eyes of men is wisdom in the eyes of God (see 1 Cor 1:25-7). Besides, would not the real scandal be to perceive that, on the pretext of adaptation, you renounce the requirements of prayer, humility, poverty, sharing, purity, simplicity, and disinterested service that Christ has asked of His disciples? Let us be clear: The form of religious life must not despise natural talents or personal charisms; it must serve the vocation of each person. And it is a heavy task for you as superiors to see to it that each of your brothers and of your sisters may develop in it and may be treated with con-sideration. But the paradox of the gospel--which you more than others have the mission to carry out fully--must not be forgotten: "For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:25). Be assured that this love of the Lord, lived to the extent of renunciation of yourselves, cannot remain without fruit. As it brings you deep joy and the hope of eternal life, it will mysteriously open up for souls the way to the God of love. In this sense, do not fear to be fully religious. Concern for the Missions We will now deal briefly with the second subject of our talk. Such love of God, continually awakened by deep prayer and stimulated by fraternal life, cannot turn you aside from the missionary concern animating you today --a reality in which We greatly rejoice. Whether you live a contemplative or a directly apostolic life, love of the Church will be at the heart of your con-cerns. You will, of course, adhere to the true faith that she professes. You will welcome confidently the guidelines she lays down, the decisions she takes, in different fields for the good of all. At this time this testimony of loyalty of all religious in their union with the See of Peter seems to Us to be of vital importance. Look at history: This loyalty was always decisive at the periods when the Church undertook her great reforms. But, according to the specific charism of your institutes, you will also share the Church's determination to really meet this world, new as it is in so many respects. It is not a question of conforming to it, but of accepting it, of understanding it, and of loving it to the extent of announcing Jesus Christ to it with evan-gelical patience and according to the means best suited to its understanding. In each of your dioceses, regions, and countries, the bishops have the task, with their priests' and pastoral councils, of discerning priority needs, of directing pastoral efforts, and of coordinating them. Each institute must clearly define its personal identity in order to find its place in this service with its own vocation. There is no question of absorbing the wealth of your multiform, traditional charisms in an authoritarian grouping or in an impov- Address on Religious Li]e / 11 erishing leveling process. Nevertheless, each one must participate, in complete availability, in the mission of the Church in harmony with the apostolate ex(rcised in the People of God as a whole under the responsibility of the hierarchy. You will always remember that "exemption" itself concerns particularly the internal structures of your congregations (see Evangelica testificatio, no. 50); it must never be an obstacle to the implementation of a close, deep, cordial communion of sentiments and of action with your bishops. Conclusion Dear Sons and Daughters, We have been thinking of you these days and as we celebrated Mass in honor of St. Luke. You are among those disciples that the Lord is sending before Himself today. We beg the Master of the harvest to send you numerous companions, men and women, of tested loyalty. Already it seems to us that the moment has come for a revival of religious life in depth. Therefore go forth throughout the entire world. Take Christ's peace to it. By your own consecrated life, proclaim His good news: "The Kingdom of God has come near to you" (Lk 10:9). With Mary turn to the Lord in thanksgiving and with perfect availability. And We willingly im-part to you Our blessing. Instruction on Intercommunion Secretariat [or Promoting Christian Unity This English translation of the Latin text of the Instruction is taken from the August 1972 issue of ln[ormation Service published by the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity. 1. The Question We are often asked the question: in what circumstances and on what con-ditions can members of other Churches and ecclesial communities be ad-mitted to Eucharistic communion in the Catholic Church? The question is not a new one. The Second Vatican Council (in the decree on ecumenism Unitatis redintegratio) and the Directorium oecumeni-cure dealt with it.1 The pastoral guidance offered here is not intended to change the existing rules but to explain them, bringing out the doctrinal principles on 1The Decree on Ecumenism (Unitatis redintegratio), no. 8: "Yet, worship in common [communicatio in sacris] is not to be considered as a means to be used indiscriminately for the restoration of unity among Christians. There are two main principles upon which the practice of such common worship depends: first, that of the unity of the Church which ought to be expressed; and second, that of the sharing in means of grace. The expression of unity very generally forbids common worship. Grace to be obtained sometimes commends it. The concrete course to be adopted, when due regard has been given to all the circumstances of time, place, and persons, is left to the prudent decision of the local episcopal authority, unless the Bishops' conference ac-cording to its own statutes, or the Holy See, has determined other~vise." See also the Decree on the Eastern Churches (Orientalium Ecclesiarum), no. 27. Directorium ad ea qaae a Concilio Vaticano Secundo de re oecumenica promulgata sunt exsequenda (~ Directorium oecumenicum), A cta A postolicae Sedis, v. 59 (1967), pp. 574-92: "'1. Sharing in Liturgical Worship with Our Separated Eastern Brothers. Besides cases of necessity, there would be reasonable ground for encouraging sacramental sharing if special circumstances make it materially or morally impossible over a long period for one of the faithful to receive the sacraments in his own Church, so that in Instruction on Intercommunion / 13 which the rules rest and so making their application easier. 2. The Eucharist and the Mystery of the Church There is a close link between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist. (a) The Eucharist really contains what is the very foundation of the being and unity of the Church: the Body of Christ, offered in sacrifice and given to the faithful as the bread of eternal life. The sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ, given to the Church so as to constitute the Church, of its nature carries with it: --the ministerial power which Christ gave to His Apostles and to their successors, the bishops along with the priests, to make effective sacramentally His own priestly act--that act by which once and forever He offered Him-self to the Father in the Holy Spirit, and gave Himself to His faithful that they might be one in Him; --the unity of the ministry, which is to be exercised in the name of Christ, Head of the Church, and hence in the hierarchical communion of ministers; --the faith of the Church, which is expressed in the Eucharistic action itself-~the faith by which she responds to Christ's gift in its true meaning. The sacrament of the Eucharist, understood in its entirety with these three elements signifies an existing unity brought about by Him, the unity of the visible Church of Christ which cannot be lost.~ (b) "The celebration of Mass, the action of Christ and of the people of God hierarchically ordered, is the center of the whole Christian life, for effect he would be deprived, without legitimate reason, of the spiritual fruit of the sacraments" (no. 44). "2. Sharing in Liturgical Worship with Other Separated Brethren. Celebration of the sacraments is an action of the celebrating community, carried out within the com-munity, signifying the oneness in faith, worship, and life of the community. Where this unity of sacramental faith is deficient, the participation of the separated brethren with Catholics especially in the sacraments of the Eucharist, penance, and anointing of the sick, is forbidden. Nevertheless, since the sacraments are both signs of grace and sources of grace (see the Decree on Ecumenism, no. 8), the Church can for adequate reasons allow access to those sacraments to a separated brother. This may be permitted in danger of death or in urgent need (during persecution, in prisons) if the separated brother has no access to a minister of his own communion and spon-taneously asks a Catholic priest for the sacraments--so long as he declares a faith in these sacraments in harmony with that of the Church and is rightly disposed. In other cases the judge of this urgent necessity must be the diocesan bishop or the episcopal conference. "A Catholic in similar circumstances may not ask for these sacraments except from a minister who has been validly ordained" (no. 55). See also "Una dichiarazione del Segretariato per l'Unione dei Cristiani: La posizione della Chiesa Cattolica in materia di Eucaristia comune tra Cristiani di diversi confes-sioni," Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 62 (1970), pp. 184-8. ~-See Lumen gentium, no. 3; Unitatis redintegratio, no. 4. 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 the universal Church as for the local Church and for each Christian.''3 Celebrating the mystery of Christ in the Mass, the Church celebrates her own mystery and manifests concretely her unity. The faithful assembled at the altar offer the sacrifice through the hands of the priest acting in the name of Christ, and they represent the com-munity of the people of God united in the profession of one faith. Thus they constitute a sign and a kind of delegation of a wider assembly. The celebration of Mass is of itself a profession of faith in which the whole Church recognizes and expresses itself. If we consider the marvelous meaning of the Eucharistic prayers as well as the riches contained in the other parts of the Mass, whether they are fixed or vary with the liturgical cycle; if at the same time we bear in mind that the liturgy of the word and the Eucharistic liturgy make up a single act of worship,4 then we can see here a striking illustration of the principle lex orandi lex credendi.~ Thus the Mass has a catechetical power which the recent liturgical renewal has emphasized. Again, the Church has in the course of history been careful to introduce into liturgical celebration the main themes of the common faith, the chief fruits of the experience of that faith. This she has done either by means of new texts or by creating new feasts. (c) The relation between local celebration of the Eucharist and uni-versal ecclesial communion is stressed also by the special mention in the Eucharistic prayers of the pope, the local bishop, and the other members of the episcopal college. What has been said here of the Eucharist as center and summit of the Christian life holds for the whole Church and for each of its members, but particularly for those who take an active part in the celebration of Mass and above all for those who receive the Body of Christ. Communion during Mass is indeed the most perfect way of participating in the Eucharist, for it fulfills the Lord's command, "Take and eat.''6 ¯ ~lnstitutio generalis Missal& romani, cap. I, n. 1. ¯ ~See Presbyterorum ordinis, 4. 5See Pius XI, Quas primas, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 17 (1925), p. 598; Vatican Council II, Presbyterorum ordin&, 5; Sacrosanctum Concilium 2, 6. ~"'Perfectior Missae participatio"--Sacrosanctutn Concilium, n. 55. And see the in-struction Eucharisticum mysterium, n. 12, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 59 (1967), p. 549. The fact of having received the same baptism does not of itself afford a title of admission to Holy Communion. Eucharistic sharing expresses the integral profession of faith and full insertion into the Church toward which baptism leads. This sacrament "constitutes the sacramental bond of unity existing among all who through it are reborn. But baptism, of itself, is only a beginning, a point of departure, for it is wholly directed toward the acquiring of fullness of life in Christ. Baptism is thus or-dained toward a complete profession of faith, a complete incorporation into the system of salvation such as Christ Himself willed it to be, and finally, toward a complete integration into Eucharistic communion"--Unitatis redintegratio, n. 22. Instruction on lntercommunion / 15 3. The Eucharist as Spiritual Food The effect of the Eucharist is also to nourish spiritually those who re-ceive it as what the faith of the Church says it truly isBthe body and blood of the Lord given as the food of eternal life (see John 6:54-8). For the baptized, the Eucharist is spiritual food, a means, by which they are brought to live the life of Christ Himself, are incorporated more profoundly in Him and share more intensely in the whole economy of His saving mystery: "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me and I in him" (John 6:56). (a) As the sacrament of full union with Christ~ and of the perfection of spiritual life, the Eucharist is necessary to every Christian: in our Lord's words, ". unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you" (John 6:53). Those who live intensely the life of grace feel a compelling need for this spiritual sustenance, and the Church herself encourages daily Communion. (b) Yet though it is a spiritual food whose effect is to unite the Christian man to Jesus Christ, the Eucharist is far from being simply a means of satis-fying exclusively personal aspirations, however lofty these may be. The union of the faithful with Christ, the head of the Mystical Body, brings about the union of the faithful themselves with each other. It is on their sharing of the Eucharistic bread that St. Paul bases the union of all the faith-ful: "Because there is one loaf, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the same loaf" (1 Cor 10:17). By this sacrament "man is in-corporated in Christ and united with His members.''~ By frequent receiv-ing of the Eucharist the faithful are incorporated more and more into the Body of Christ and share increasingly in the mystery of the Church. (c) Spiritual need of the Eucharist is not therefore merely a matter of personal spiritual growth: simultaneously and inseparably, it concerns our entering more deeply into Christ's Church "which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all" (Eph 1:23). 4. General Principles Governing Admission to Communion Where members of the Catholic Church are concerned, there is a perfect parallel between regarding the Eucharist as the celebration of the entire ecclesial community united in one faith and regarding it as sustenance, as a response to the spiritual needs, personal and ecclesial, of each member. It will be the same when, in the Lord's good time, all the followers of Christ rSee Presbyterorum ordinis, 5. sCouncil of Florence, Decretum pro Armenis, DB 698 = DS 1322. In the work of St. Thomas Aqu!nas we often come across the expression "sacra-mentum ecclesiasticae unitatis" (for example, S.T., q.73, a.2, sed contra). The Eucharist effects the unity of the Church or, more strictly, it effects the Mystical Body because it contains the real Body of Christ. 16 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 are reunited in one and the same Church. But what are we to say today, when Christians are divided? Any baptized person has a spiritual need for the Eucharistic. Those who are not in full communion with the Catholic Church have recourse to the ministers of their own communities, as their conscience dictates. But what about those who cannot do this, and who for that or other reasons come and ask for communion from a Catholic priest? The Directorium oecumenicum has already shown how we must safe-guard simultaneously the integrity of ecclesial communion and the good of souls. Behind the Directorium lie two main governing ideas: (a) The strict relationship between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist can nev+r be altered, whatever pastoral measures we may be led to take in given cases. Of its very nature celebration of the Eucharist signifies the fullness of profession of faith and the fullness of ecclesial communion. This principle must not be obscured and must remain our guide in this field. (b) The principle will not be obscured if admission to Catholic Eucharis-tic communion is confined to particular cases of those Christians who have a faith in the sacrament in conformity with that of the Church, who experi-ence a serious spiritual need for the Eucharistic sustenance, who for a pro-longed period are unable to have recourse to a minister of their own com-munity and who ask for the sacrament of their own accord; all this pro-vided that they have proper dispositions and lead lives worthy of a Christian. This spiritual need should be understood in the sense defined above (no. 3, (b) and (c): a need for an increase in spiritual life and a need for a deeper involvement in the mystery of the Church and of its unity. Further, even if those conditions are fulfilled, it will be a pastoral responsibility to see that the admission of these other Christians to com-munion does not endanger or disturb the faith of Catholics.9 5. Differences between Members of the Eastern Churches and o| Other Churches The Directorium oecumenicum1° gives different directions for the admis-sion to Holy Communion of separated Eastern Christians, and of others. The reason is that the Eastern Churches, though separated from us, have true sacraments, above all, because of the apostolic succession, the priest-hood and the Eucharist, which unite them to us by close ties, so that the risk of obscuring the relation between Eucharistic communion and ecclesial communion is somewhat reduced.1l Recently the Holy Father recalled that ~See Orientalium Ecclesiarum, 26. lOSee Directorium oecumenicum, nos. 44 and 55. liThe ~ollowing are two important passages from the Directorium derived from Council documents: "39. Although these [Eastern] Churches are separated from us, yet they possess Instruction on Intercommunion / 17 "between our Church and the venerable Orthodox Churches there exists already an almost total communion, though it is not yet perfect: it results from our joint participation in the mystery of Christ and of His Church.''1'' With Christians who belong to communities whose Eucharistic faith differs from that of the Church and which do not have the sacrament of orders, admitting them to the Eucharist entails the risk of obscuring the essential relation between Eucharistic Communion and ecclesial communion. This is why the Directorium treats their case differently from that of the Eastern Christians and envisages admission only in exceptional cases of "urgent necessity." In cases of this kind the person concerned is asked to manifest a faith in the Eucharist in conformity with that of the Church, i.e. in the Eucharist as Christ instituted it and as the Catholic Church hands it on. This is not asked of an Orthodox person because he belongs to a Church whose faith in the Eucharist is conformable to our own. 6. The Authority to Decide Particular Cases Number 55 of the Directorium allows fairly wide discretionary power to the episcopal authority in judging whether the necessary conditions are present for these exceptional cases. If cases of the same pattern recur often in a given region, episcopal conferences can give general directions. More often, however, it falls to the bishop of the diocese to make a decision. He alone will know all the circumstances of particular cases. Apart from the danger of death the Directorium mentions only two ex-' amples, people in prison and those suffering persecution, but it then speaks of "other cases of such urgent necessity." Such cases are not confined to situ-ations of suffering and danger. Christians may find themselves in grave spiritual necessity and with no chance of recourse to their own community. For example, in our time, which is one of large-scale movements of popu-lation, it can happen much more often than before that non-Catholic Chris-tians are scattered in Catholic regions. They are often deprived of the help of their own communion and unable to get in touch with it except at true sacraments, above all--by apostolic succession--the priesthood and the Eucharist, whereby they are still joined to us in closest intimacy. Therefore some sharing in liturgical worship [communicatio in sacris], given suitable circumstances and the approval of Church authority, is not merely possible but is encouraged (Decree on Ecumenism, n. 15; see also the Decree on the Eastern Catholic Churches, nos. 24-29). "40. Between the Catholic Church and the Eastern Churches separated from us there is still a very close communion in matters of faith (see Decree or! Ecumenism, n. 14); moveover, 'through the celebration of the Eucharist of the Lord in each of these Churches, the Church of God is built up and grows in stature' and 'although separated from us yet these Churches possess true sacraments, above a.ll--by apostolic succession--the priesthood and the Eucharist' (ibid., n. 15)." 1"-'Letter to Patriarch A thenagoras, February 8, 1971, printed in Osservatore romano, March 7, 1971. It had been given to Metropolite Meliton of Chalcedon during his visit to the Holy Father on February 8, 1971. 1~1 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 great trouble and expense. If the conditions set out in the Directorium are verified, they can be admitted to Eucharistic Communion but it will be [or the bishop to consider each case. The Supreme Pontiff Paul VI approved this pastoral instruction and ordered it to be a part of public law through a letter of the Cardinal Secre-tary ot~ State dated May 25, 1972, and sent to the undersigned Cardinal President. Given at Rome in the offices of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity, June 1, 1972. JOHN CARDINAL WILLEBRANDS President JEROME HAMER, O.P. Secretary Commentary on the Instruction on Intercommunion Jerome Hamer, O.P. The following commentary on the preceding instruction was written by the secretary of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity and was published in Italian in Osservatore romano, July 8, 1972. The English translation is that published in the August 1972 issue of the lnIorrnation Service of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity. 1. The instruction just published proposes to explain the doctrinal rea-sons for the regulation of the Church as outlined in the Conciliar decree Unitatis redintegratio and in the first part of the Ecumenical Directory which was published on 14 May 1967. It is intended as a help to the bishops in the concrete decisions they have to make in regard to admitting to Eucharistic Communion Christians not in full communion with the Catholic Church. The doctrinal reasons for the regulation made by the Church are to be found briefly expressed in the two documents mentioned above. It seemed useful, however, to give a more ample exposition of these reasons in order to facilitate the application of a regulation which touches on certain basic points of our faith. 2. On the one hand there is a close bond between the mystery of the Eucharist and the mystery of the Church, and on the other hand the Eucharist is a spiritual nourishment whose effect is to join the Christian in person with Jesus Christ and to bring him yet more deeply into Christ's Church. These two statements are of equal importance and have both to be safe-guarded, whatever may be the pastoral decisions which pastors are called upon to make in particular circumstances. As it is, generally speaking, on the second statement that those who ask for "Eucharistic hospitality" in the Church base their request, the instruction aims to remind those concerned what may not be done at the expense of the first statement in which the inde- 19 20 / Review lor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 structible bond between the Eucharist and the Church is underlined. The regulation itself in regard to this matter, however, changes with the times. That brought in by Vatican Council II offers somewhat more of a welcome than the one in force previously. But the profound doctrinal reasons remain unchanged, because these are bound up with the very nature of our Eucharistic belief. The instruction does not simply take its stand on a general question of principle. It shows how the two statements can be safeguarded at the same time, and are in fact safeguarded, in the actual regulation laid down by the Church. Those called upon to express their views on this matter must constantly be concerned not to sacrifice the one statement in favor of the other. We have no intention of repeating here what can be found explicitly stated in the instruction. We wish simply to underline one point which this document puts very clearly. To ask a Catholic priest for the Eucharist, a member of another Christian community must feel "a serious spiritual need of nourishment from the Eucharist" (cf. 4b and 6). That sets the problem on a high level, that namely of profound spiritual needs. 3. The regulations laid down for admission to Eucharistic Communion are less stringent in the case of those belonging to the Eastern Churches, not in full communion with us, than they are in the case of other Christians. Why this discrimination? The reason is to be found in the first of the two statements mentioned above. On the question of profession of faith, of the sacraments, and of ecclesiastical structure, the Eastern Churches are very close to us, and so the risks of obscuring the essential bonds between the Church and the Eucharist are notably less. The instruction recalls the Holy Father's recent declaration as to the "communion almost total, though not yet perfect" between the Orthodox Church and our own. On the particular point of belief in the Holy Eucharist these Eastern Churches hold a faith conformable to ours in virtue ol the prolession ol ]aith made by the same Churches. On the occasion of being admitted to Holy Communion, therefore, their members will not be asked for a personal profession of faith in this sacrament "as instituted by Christ and in ac-cordance with the tradition of the Catholic Church." 4. The instruction ends with a brief comment on no. 55 of the Ecu-menical Directory. It recalls first of all the extent accorded by the Directory itself to the authority of the bishops in applying the general criteria to par-ticular cases. It then makes it clear that the two cases mentioned as examples in no. 55, namely deprivation of freedom and conditions of persecution, are not the only ones in which there is to be discerned a great spiritual need for the reception of the Holy Eucharist. It is clear that a need of this kind can be felt even apart from situations of suffering and danger. The case given of the diaspora (groups of non-Catholics settled in a Catholic country) is illuminating on this point. Instruction on lntercommunion / 21 5. The instruction is, then, an expansion of certain points of the 1967 Directory, which itself still remains in force. We may recall that this Direc-tory was the work of a "plenary meeting" of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity (this "Plenary" is the annual session on the part of the mem-bers of the Secretariat, composed of 7 Cardinals and 24 Bishops), to meet a need already made manifest in the Council. It was produced with the active collaboration of experts from different countries, of episcopal confer-ences throughout the world, and of various organizations pertaining to the Roman Curia, such as the Sacred Congregations for the Eastern Chu:ches, for the Evangelization of the Peoples, and for the Doctrine of the Faith. The Directory was approved by the Holy Father during an audience granted to the "Plenary" of the Secretariat on 28 April 1969. 6. A more or less similar procedure was adopted and followed in the case of the present instruction: --In February 1968 a mixed commission was set up, chosen from the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity and from the Sacred Congrega-tion for the Doctrine of the Faith, to study the interpretation to be given to certain norms laid down in the Conciliar decree Unitatis redintegratio and in the Ecumenical 'Directory on the question of "communicatio in sacri$." --In November 1969, the "Plenary" of the Secretariat was informed as to the conclusions arrived at by the commission, and then discussed the whole problem on the basis of a document prepared by a committee of its own Consultors. The "Plenary" requested the Cardinal President to set up a commission limited to three bishops to pursue the study of the whole matter. --As a practical result of this resolution there was a meeting of the three bishops concerned from May 30 to June 2, 1970, in which the question was studied, use being made of nine considered opinions given by as many specialists (Biblical scholars, historio-patrologists, theologians). This com-mission produced a report which was submitted to the "Plenary" of 1970. --In 1971, a new mixed commission, chosen from the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity and the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, determined the line to be followed in the production of a new pastoral instruction. This commission worked on two basic documents: the conclusions of the first commission (1968-69) and the report from the meeting of the three bishops (May-June 1970). --Along the lines determined upon, a sample instruction was worked out, which the Cardinal President of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity submitted to the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith with a view to agreement and possible observations. A definitive reply was given by this Congregation on 8 February 1972. --On being submitted to the Holy Father, the present instruction was approved on 25 May 1972. 7. With this approval of the Holy Father the present instruction is Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 now offered to all those who have need to formulate exactly the motives for the practice adopted by the Church, whether it be in pastoral directives, or in preaching, or in teaching, or in catechetics. Both the faithful of the Catholic Church and also the other Christian brethren who read it can judge how clearly our mode of action in this matter flows from our most profound religious convictions. We feel sure that this text will be studied by all with the same anxious desire for truth, for understanding, and for fraternal charity, as that which has inspired all those who have contributed to its production. Rome, June 29, 1972. The Prophetic Challenge of the American Sister Segundo Galilea Segundo Galilea is the Director of the Instituto Pastoral Latinoamericano in Quito, Ecuador. His article was sent to the REVIEW through the kindness of Hermana Lucy Martinez; State Coordinator of Las Hermanas of Colorado; 3635 Humboldt; Denver, Colorado 80205. I write this during the Bishops' Synod in Rome. They are discussing situa-tions of injustice in the world--above all, in the Third World. I do not know what solutions they will arrive at, but the theme of the Synod is in itself a message: it reminds us that the Third World is a world of injustice and poverty. I write as a Latin American priest. This means that I belong to a part of the Third World whose population suffers from chronic conditions of misery and injustice, while at the same time it becomes more and more conscious of the causes and their possible solutions. This is why Latin America is a continent in the process of revolution: its people look for rapid changes in order to arrive at a more just society. The Old Vision and the New Until a short time ago there was talk of poor countries and rich ones, o[ progressive countries and backward ones. The United States was a progressive, rich country and Latin America was backward and poor. What was needed, then, was to help the backward regions to progress. Govern-ments and individual North Americans have dedicated themselves for several decades to make loans and investments in South America. Idealistic and generous individuals have continuously traveled south in a hardy pilgrim-age, to collaborate in that development. The Christian layman and the American religious have participated in the vision of these things by degrees extending from paternalism to the conviction that there is a need for more 23 24 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 intense help lent by the North to the Latin Americans towards a develop-ment of themselves by themselves. Nowadays, for the conscientious Latin American, the existence of this vision has ended. In this fact is rooted his awareness of change. He has seen that the poverty of some countries is not only backwardness, but that it is due in a high degree to the richness of others. That is to say, wealth in the modern world consists of the power to impose international systems of markets, of interchange, and of industry which benefit the rich coun-tries and do further harm to the poor. Today the whole world knows that the poverty of Latin America is simply the shadow of the wealth of the United States, that there are not underdeveloped countries and developed ones, that there are only independent ones and those dependent upon them from a socio-economic point of view. (Latin America depends upon the United States.) We know today, too, that there are no rich countries and countries on the way to development, but only rich countries and countries on the way to greater underdevelopment. While the United States becomes richer every day, Latin America becomes poorer in the same measure. The loans and investments of North America do not really help us; they only tend to make the masses of Latin America more beggarly. Every economist knows that for each dollar that the United States invests in Latin American countries today, it gets back four per year. Therefore, when President Nixon fourteen months ago asked of a South American President if in his judgment the United States had sufficiently helped along the progress of his country within the past decade, the answer may have come as a surprise to any malinformed North AmeriCan: "On the contrary, I believe that my country has contributed considerably to the enrichment of the United States." Principal Source of Third World Poverty This very serious situation is the principal source of the poverty and in-justice of the Third World, more especially of Latin America, since the African Poverty is due in a larger manner to Europe. But it would be sim-plistic to particularize responsibilities blaming the government, or the com-panies, or the citizens of the United States, or the South American oli-garchies which benefit from this situation. The blame lies not in groups or persons who in their good will have often thought they were of help, but in the system: a system of economic and social relations which has made slaves of poor countries and has left rich ones to bask in a dulled conscience, believing that they apparently cannot do much else outside of extending personal and economic help. This is sufficient to calm their worry but does not allow them a vision of the basic problem: the necessity to liberate poor countries and to convert rich ones into abandoning their privileges according to the system. The liberation of Latin America and the conversion of the United States within a system of justice and not Challenge o] the American Sister of domination depend one upon the other. It seems to me that the differ-ence lies upon the more vital conscientization of the Latin American, inso-far as his need for liberation is greater than the North American's con-scientization of his conversion to a system which would tear him out of a consumer society and an economic domination. Furthermore, this conversion is not made easier by the degree in which the people of the United States has become, because of its riches, closed in upon and satisfied with itself. If this conversion does not come about, though, there will not be justice in the world---which paves the way in the coming decade for the violent revolution of the Third World. Prophetic Role of U.S.A. Church Confronted by these circumstances, I think the Church in the United States has a decisive and prophetic role. It should be the moral force-- disinterested and.free--to voice the interests of the poor fighting for their liberation, be they Negro, Chicano, or Latin American. It should be a prophetic voice capable of awakening the consciences not only of Catho-lics but of every North American of good will, to his responsibility as an influence within his own country towards ch~inge ending in international justice. The reason is that nowadays it is no longer a matter of going to Latin America to work for its development but of remaining in the United States to work for the reform of a system responsible for the misery of others. More important than going to teach the poor children of the Andes is the formation of a Christian youth convinced of the necessity to push for internal change once they attain to influential positions. This is why I believe that the North American sister confronts a prophet-ic challenge. My impression is that she is still the apostolic agent exerting the greatest influence in the North American Church given her position, up to now, as educator and catechist. For the same reason I believe that she must re-examine radically her educational attitudes and decide up to which point in time she will continue to form Christian generations of conform-ists satisfied with the prevailing system and little conscious of any serious social responsibilities. Each sister, then, should represent the prophetic conscience of the Church who frees its sons out of their "good conscience" and leads them towards social change. On the other hand, many sisters who have discovered either the Latin American situation or the poverty of the world have thought that the best way to make a personal response is to migrate south as missionaries. This, I repeat, is today more and more unnecessary. The role of the religious is to work for the conversion and conscientization of her native country, to be an impulse toward its social justice, rather than work in development programs in neighboring countries which in the end do not solve the basic cause of poverty--found more with the United States than Latin America. Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 Escaping Future Mediocrity I believe that if the North American religious communities want to escape from future mediocrity, they will have to create ways of making their sisters aware of these problems. This work is the responsibility of every Christian seeking justice, and it is nothing distant or alien to him. Each religious community should make of each one of its sisters a prophet of justice and of war against misery, capable of transmitting her message to various groups and generations of American Christians educated by her to a diversity of social roles. This means that evangelization in the United States should remind each citizen and the whole society that conversion to the kingdom implies not only personal changes but also a collective responsibil-ity towards social and legal transformations opening the way for the libera-tion of the poor countries. If religious life avoids these problems in its preaching of the gospel, it shall remain at the margin of history and will become irrelevant--because, in the end, the surest signs of reform within religious life are not external ones involved in activity, but the capacity to give prophetic answers to the problems of today's history. Contemporary Religious Spirituality and the Signs of the Times Robert S. Pelton, C.S.C. Father Robert Pelton has served as the Vicar for Religious Institutes in the Arch-diocese of Santiago, Chile. He is now the theological adviser for the programs of religious renewal within the same archdiocese. He is also the theological adviser of the Sisters of the Holy Cross in the United States. His United States address is: The Presbytery; St. Mary's; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. The text of the article was originally an address given at Mundelein College on July 16 1972 at the request of the Theology Committee of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. Preliminary Observations In his 1971 Exhortation to Religious, Pope Paul said: The aspirations of men to a more fraternal life among individuals and nations require above all a change in ways of living, in mentality and hearts. Such a mission, which is common to all the People of God, belongs to you in a special way. How can that mission ever be fulfilled if there is lacking an ap-preciation of the absolute, which results from a certain experience of God? This does but emphasize the fact that authentic renewal of the religious life is of capital importance for the very renewal of the Church and of the world,x I now wish to reflect upon such an authentic renewal in the context of the reality of our world--the "signs of the times.'"- I wish to discern with you the hopeful implications of this document, relating this to other docu-ments of the Church, and in particular those of Latin America where a special effort is being made to relate to the extraordinarily rapid changes in our times. 1Evangelica testificatio, § 54. "A Scriptural expression (Mt 16:1-4 and Lk 12:54-7) which was used in the Second Vatican Council and in particular in the Pastoral "Cotzstitution on tile Church in the World (nos. 4, 11, 40, and 44). 27 28 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 Fresh Implications for Our Spirituality In a particular way we, as religious, are being called to a deeper in-volvement in the Church's contemporary mission? This implies a more Scriptural understanding of "world" and a fuller understanding of "ascetics." In the New Testament those who spoke about the world belonged to a small and threatened group. Thus, for the early Christians, "world" referred to an attitude hostile to the Lord? In Christ's actions we see that the sep-aration between God and the world is fundamentally that of sin. It is in the understanding of "new life" that we come to grasp what our attitude to-ward the world should be. It is in the context of redemptive life and growth that theology describes the world for us. In contemporary theology, we may say world is all that touches us in our human experience, that which gives meaning to our lives, that which affirms life, that which has been completed and that which is still in process and projection, that which suffers. In the documents of Vatican II we have a similar description: ¯ . . the Council focuses its attention on the world of men, the whole human family along with the sum of those realities in the midst of which that family lives. It gazes upon that world which is the theater of man's history, and carries the marks of his energies, his tragedies, and his triumphs; that world which the Christian sees as created and sustained by its Maker's love, fallen indeed into the bondage of sin, yet emancipated now by Christ.5 Christian Asceticism Authentic Christian asceticism in any age is essentially a Paschal exis-tence, a creative and dynamic struggle in which new life emerges only through death. Both theology and modern day social sciences contribute significantly to the understanding of this asceticism. 1. Theological Principles In the Gospels we find ample evidence of the necessity to renounce oneself in order to arrive at Christian perfection: 3Evangelica testificatio, §§ 52, 53. aSee Jn 17:15-21. This is a classic text which develops this point: "I am not asking you to remove them from the world, but to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world, and for their sake I consecrate myself so that they too may be consecrated in truth. I pray not only for these, but for those also who through their words will believe in me. May they all be one." The last sentence points out in particular the social mission of Christians. ¯ "Gaudium et spes, no. 2. The description of world and the later observations on asceticism are taken from Reflexiones pastorales, no. 4, 1971 (Vicario de Religiosos, Archdiocese of Santiago, Chile). This is a pastoral study prepared by the present author with a team of religious. Contemporary Religious Spirituality Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:24-5). Then he said, "If anone wants to be a follower of mine, let him re-nounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me" (Lk 9:23). We must see this call to renunciation in terms of. the central mystery of Christianity: that of the death and resurrection of Jesus, and in terms of man's existential relation to the world. For Jesus, His death was His total gift of self to the Father, and for man and the world who are in-separably related. In His final prayer at the Last Supper, Jesus speaks of his "sanctification" or "consecration" to God by means of a total renuncia-tion of self. He often repeated, "I go to the Father." There was a distance that He had to overcome between Himself and the Father. He returns to the Father by a sanctification, by dying to the world of sin, and by rising to God. In Christ's return to the Father the personal sanctification of Jesus and the redemption of mankind take place. Jesus experienced the incompleteness of man and the need to over-come the distance that exists within man himself and the distance that exists between man and the Father. This "distance" or lack of integration is part of man's lot. Perfection for Jesus, as for all men, was overcoming the forces of disintegration, the forces which tend to make communion with men and God impossible. Man's incompleteness, his situation of imperfection is one in which there exist forces of evil and sin; that is, forces which tend to man's disintegration. Man's existence is a constant struggle to overcome these forces and to attain a union, a harmony, an integration within himself, with his fellow man, with nature, and with the world which is the place where he realizes this process. For the Christian the more he comes to live the Paschal mystery, the more he attains integration. And in order to attain it, he must enter with Jesus into an attitude of "consecration" by a total renunciation of the forces which tend to his dissolution. In this way the Christian accepts the call to renunciation of self and lives in a very personal way the death and resurrection of Jesus. With Christ he thus reduces the distance between himself and the Father. It must be noted here more explicitly that the aspect of renunciation (death) for the Christian operates only in function of his perfection or integration (resurrection). A renunciation .which is practiced apart from this spirit is neither Christian nor humanly of value. 2. Creative Discipline If there is anything the movement toward secularization has taught us, it is that man's search for perfection or integration is at its core a deeply human process. This articulates what Irenaeus said many centuries ago 30 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 about God being greatly glorified by man who is fully alive." .We have also come to see with greater clarity that complete integration is only at-tained through our total harmony with God as well as with the world. Expressed differently, integration is a process which includes all the ele-ments of our human experience, our relationship with ourselves in our own unique psychological and physical make-up, our relationship with the world in which we live, and our relationship with God who is the ground and center of our being. Certain aspects of this process seen in secular terms help us to amplify our understanding of Christian perfection, salvation, and particularly the role asceticism plays in its realization. Let us consider, first of all, the example of a human interpersonal rela-tionship. For a relationship to be of deep and lasting value it must be rooted in the dynamic rhythm of a mutual active sensitivity as well as a certain mutual creative discipline. Both grow out of an interior harmony within ourselves. To attain this harmony we must be sensitive to ourselves, and the relation that exists between ourselves and our friend, including both our capabilities and our limitations. The depth of our relationship will de-pend upon the quality of our perception together with a type of interior discipline. A denial of self is essential to the development of a meaningful inter-personal relationship. In this there is a need for creative fidelity which demands a balance between activity and receptivity in struggling to over-come the distanc~ which separates us from the other. This fidelity includes a faithfulness to what is perceived through sensitive listening as well as an excrcise of delicate initiative. Such an interpersonal relationship is a fragile, delicate, and tenuous experience. We enter into a reflection upon ourselves in a simultaneous act of identification with and separation from the object of our love. At certain moments we will assume a posture of disciplined separation to gain perspective, to evaluate, while constantly maintaining a sensitivity toward further growth. In' such growth there is an analogy with that which Christ achieved as He approached the Father in the redemp-tive act. Such an interpersonal relationship frees a person to be even more crea-tive in dealing with others. This whole process might be described as an ac-tive sensitivity which is quite different from a determined manipulation of self which has been understood and practiced as Christian discipline by many in the past. 3. Christian Asceticism as Creative Discipline Now let us look at this same human process in a more specifically reli-gious context to explore more deeply our understanding of Christian asceti-cism. The Christian, therefore, finds himself in the world, which is the place in which he works toward a fundamental integration and union with "See Adversus haereses, V, 3, 2; IV, 2. Contemporar[y Religious Spirituality / 31 himself, with his fellow man, with nature, alnd with God. His vocation is precisely this struggle for perfection, or lntegrat~on, as it might more aptly be called. Redemption comes to us through Jesus who in His gift of self overcame the incompleteness of man and the distance tl~at exists between man and the Father. The Christian attains his own personal sanctification in his identi-fication with Jesus. The renunciation of self; in this process is parallel to that of the development of a true human friendship. In his work of inte-gration the Christian must be sensitive to him~self, to his possibilities, to his limitations. His work, which is defined in tertrns of his human and Christian I vocation, demands the same discipline: openn,ess and sensitivity to the world in which he lives, to the inspiration of the Spirit, to his fellow man. He must be open to the Spirit in order to recognize His inspirations. He must enter into reality, into profound relationships with the world, in an attitude of complete giving, presence, a~nd service to that portion of reality which is his. He makes his activity in Ithe world an extension of him-sel~ and his inspiration. At the same time hie draws back in a disciplined separation from his activity in an attitude ~f quiet listening. By attaining a clearer recognition of inspiration, his activity once again becomes in- I ¯ spired and attains a greater quality of expression. Active sensitivity might ¯ also describe Christian asceticism. The ~deas of asceticism expressed in I terms of disciplined separation, of a drawing close in identification and of active sensitivity, might also be expressed in terms of a "rhythm of develop-ment and renunciation" and of "attachment and detachment" according to the thought of Teilhard de Chardin.~ f 1 Within the context outlined, we must be care u to recognize that Chris-tian asceticism is not merely an exercise of abnegation for the sake of ab-negation. Neither ~s it a practice that wdl automatically result in the per-sonal sanctification of the individual by the mere fact that he has denied himself. This concept of asceticism is an error that has continued too long ¯ in the formation of Christians and of relig~ou,s. Abnegation is part of a total process; apart from that process it has no value. God does not wish the suf-fering of men. The element of suffering that enters into the process of crea- I tive discipline defined in Christian terms is merely a side effect and not a goal. The Christian must not concentrate on the "value of his suffering," as if suffering were that which is of value. I~ itself, suffering has no value. It is merely an element of the dialectic into lwhich the whole person enters as a response to the Spirit and in identificati6n with Jesus in his self-giving. Asceticism depends not only upon man b~t upon the Spirit who invites the Christian to a free response and active cooperation. Christian asceticism consists in fidelity to the inspiration of the Spirit in a response of active sen-sitivity to that call. ;Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (London: Fontana, 1965), p. 99. 32 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 It is only through such a liberating spirituality that we will be open to discover the "signs of the times" and thus contribute our share to the build-ing of the kingdom in Christ's vision that He may be fully all in all. An Integrated Vision In enabling our mission to have greater effectiveness it is essential to relate what has been said in the Exhortation with other documents. For instance, the necessity for religious to share in the Church's mission (§ 50) can be more fully understood when reflecting upon Vatican II's discern-ment of "the birth of a new humanism where man is defined before all else by his responsibilities to his brothers and to history" (G.S., no. 55). This, in turn, is related to a statement in the Development o[ Peoples: "What must be aimed at is complete humanism . . . the integral development of the whole man and of all men" (no. 42). This leads to a deeper apprecia-tion of Christian liberation which is: . . in its broadest meaning . . . the process of freeing man from all that prevents him from developing his potentialities and his obligations as a person who is created in the image of God.s Forming the New Person The Exhortation speaks of the necessity to form the "new man" spoken of by St. Paul (§ 38). But to achieve this newness it is necessary to go beyond what Pius XII referred to as the "technological spirit.''9 This is a spirit in which the quantitative and the measurable take precedence over the qualitative. Increasing material growth becomes an ultimate norm of a suc-cessful human society. To avoid being entrapped in such a mentality calls for a continuing conversion of heart. The Latin American Bishops said at Medellin that "new and reformed structures" cannot be built "without new men who know how to be truly free and responsible according to the light of the Gospel.''1° Necessary Discernment In order to make the necessary discernment in this dynamic process our prayer needs to be deep and constant as well as truly concerned with the needs of the "earthly city" (§ 49). It will be a prayer which, while it makes more profound our experience of God, will at the same time make us more aware of our own humanness and that of others. It leads us to a mor~ meaningful experience of what Douglas Steere refers to as "the prayer of presence": ¯ SFifth Inter-American Bishops' Conference, Statement, February 1970. ~'Christmas Address, 1953. 1°Second General Conference of the Latin American Bishops, The Church its the Present Day--Trans]ormation in the Light o] the Council (1968), v. 2, pp. 58-9. Contemporary Religious Spirituality / 33 ¯ . . in prayer where intercession is involved, I make those for whom I am praying present for myself by thinking of them and of their need and of the One who can meet that need in its deepest sense. Perhaps my friend is swept away by a persistent temptation to which he has yielded often enough to threate~ to glaze over his life, to numb the heart core in him, and finally to cut him off from ever sensing the deepest spring of love in another person or in the One that sustains him with both an unceasing and unspeakable love. In my prayer I make him present to me by thinking intensively of him and of the threshold over which both God's and my own caring must pass in order to reach him. I think, too, of this whole solace of intercessory caring which God's love and the love of the whole communion of saints is forever drawing at his life. My own caring for him is frail in comparison to this, but I feel that it is swept up into this greater net of attracting energy and that for all of its frailty it may be the decisive impulse that may touch my friend's decision and open to him those ever present forces that could change his whole perspective,al Our Spiritual Lives and the Signs o| the Times The Exhortation (§ 19) encourages us to avoid being carried away by an uncurbed seeking for our own ease, and in doing so repeats what the Council said about that bondage which modern man can suffer when he "indulges in too many of life's comforts and imprisons himself in a kind of splendid isolation" (G.S., no. 31 ). An authentic poverty and sense of justice (§ 18) must find a real echo in our lives since without these we shall contribute to what Medellin has entitled "institutionalized violence.''r-' Rather than being heralds of libera-tion and social catalysts we give scandal. By our failure to take social posi-tions, others can legitimately assume that we are in favor of the status quo. Spiritual Fruitfulness for the World It is in the building up of the earthly city with its foundation in the Lord that we give clear testimony to the presence of the Spirit among us. The religious life itself is a "little Church" in which the network of loving rela-tionships should become more and more evident among us. When the lov-ing bond among us is very evident we shall, in fact, be heralds of liberation and vital participants in the building up of the kingdom of God. Our Political Obligations In closing, it is appropriate to say a few words--particularly at this mo-ment in U.S. history--about our political duties. The construction of "a new humanity" cannot be left solely to the technocrats.13 Religious should contribute to this. This implies the art of politics, not in the narrowly parti- 11Douglas Steere, On Being Present Where You Are (Pendle Hill, 1968), p. 18. r-'This occurs when institutions do violence to others through unjust practices; for a development of this see Medellin, "Peace," no. 2,2,2. a3Paul VI, Acta ,'lpostolicae Sedis, v. 60 (1968), p. 393. 34 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 san sense, but rather that type of statescraft which fosters the common good through the moral use of power (Pacem in terris, no. 54). In the use of this statescraft we need to ask ourselves the type of searching questions which were proposed-at the World Conference on Religion and Peace at Kyoto, Japan, in October 1970:14 31. Religion cannot in good faith demand of society that it reform its struc-tures without honestly examining its own institutions and programs, including problems related to the ownership and use of property and the possibilities of self-taxation for development purposes. 32. In this examination we might ask the following, among other, ques-tions: What role is assigned to the young and to women in our institutions? Are these institutions designed to preserve the status quo or do they point the way towards the future? Is our institutional apparatus used to convey real knowledge to people, to relate them to their environment, and to teach them their rightful place in society? Is worship used as an escape from or as a means of relating men to reality? Do we fulfill our prophetic role by denounc-ing injustices not only in distant countries, but more dangerouly at home? Do we give voice to the voiceless or only echo the rationalizations of those who sit in the places of power? Finally we need to ask ourselves more explicitly just what is the con-temporary sense of politics and what should our competence be in this area in the United States. Recently the Confederation of Latin American Religious distributed a research text to pastoral leaders on "The Religious Life and the Socio-political Situation in Latin America" in order to probe more deeply into these relationships on that continent. As the text becomes more refined, thousands of Religious will be invited to respond to it. This in turn takes us back to the beginnings of our reflections which hopefully have led us to appreciate more the relevance of our religious spirituality in the context of the "signs of the times." We have seen that in Latin America at this moment there is a type of liberating theology which is very helpful in establishing these relationships. t~Working Group II on Development, Report, §§ 31-2. The Eucharist as a Central Theme in the Ghent Altarpiece Maurice B. McNamee, S.J. Maurice B. McNamee, S.J., is a faculty member of the English Department of St. Louis University; 221 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is becoming increasingly clear that, by all odds, the most persistent theme in Flemish iconography is the Eucharist. Some of my own studies have pointed up the pervasive interest in that theme in Medieval Flemish art;1 and other recent studies have called attention to the same fact.z The new-est ~orroboration of the importance of that theme in the art of Flanders is a recently published book by Professor Lotte Brand Philip, The Ghent Altarpiece.3 The work is something of a landmark in van Eyck studies. It presents a reconstruction and reinterpretation of the famous polyptych which is very persuasive and suggests new solutions to the many problems that, in the past, have intrigued and sometimes baffled such great art historians as Max Friedl~inder, Erwin Panofsky, Hermann Beeken, and Charles de Tolnay. Professor Philip's thesis that the twelve panels were originally part of an elaborate stone framed, multi-level altarpiece, which adapted ele-ments from reliquary shrine-altars, tower tabernacles, and rood screens, is brilliantly argued. It does handle the many problems of authorship (Hubert or/and Jan van Eyck), and apparent aesthetic and iconographic incon-sistencies between the various panels far better than any interpretation 1M. B. McNamee, "Further Symbolism in the Portinari Altarpiece," The Art Bulletin, XLV, 1963, 142-143; "The Origin of the Vested Angel as a Eucharistic Symbol in Flemish Painting," The Art Bulletin, LIV, 1972, 263-278. °-See, for instance, Ursula Nilgen, "The Epiphany and the Eucharist: An Interpreta-tion of Eucharistic Motifs in Medieval Epiphany Scenes," The Art Bulletin, XLIX, 1967, 311-316. :~Lotte Brand Philip, The Ghent Altarpiece and the Art o] Jan van Eyck, Princeton University Press, 1971. 35 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 previously advanced. The thesis advanced here, I am sure, will be discussed and perhaps challenged by art historians for many years to come. Methodology But what may be of particular interest to the readers of Review Jot Religious is a statement by Professor Philip in her Preface about the method-ology which she thinks ought to be followed by an art historian at-tempting the interpretation of a religious work of art from the past. She feels that too often these works have been approached in artificial isolation as "pure" works of art abstracted from the religious and sometimes liturgi-cal purpose for which they were created, with the result that their thematic, iconographic, and even aesthetic values have sometimes been misconstrued. This is Professor Philip's own pertinent statement on the matter: It is this isolated work of art which art historians have often sought to put into a broader context by linking its form and content to modes and trends of the period which were known to them from other fields. But while it may be instructive to see art in a general framework of Geistesgeschichte or sociology applied to it, as it were, artifically from without, we should not forget that for each individual work there had once existed a specific and natural "framework" quite palpable and concrete and supremely "sociologi-cal" in essence. Perhaps the simple and direct method of placing a work of art back into the very context of its own original setting and practical purl~ose can supply important new insights on the nature and meaning of a master-piece.' t Professor Philip's application of this method to the study of The Ghent Altarpiece is an excellent example of the fruitfulness of the method. I can-not here go into all the intricacies of the arguments for her reconstruc-tion of the .setting and purpose of The Ghent Altarpiece but I would like to call attention to some of the important new insights on the nature and meaning of this masterpiece that her study provides. General Plan In the first place she shows that the polyptych was probably planned as part of an altar complex in a chapel in Saint Bavo's Cathedral in which the Blessed Sacrament was reserved. It is this fact which may have suggested the all-pervasive Eucharistic motif of the whole polyptych. Professor Philip rather convincingly postulates the presence of a tabernacle in the center of a predella just above the mensa of the altar in the original compo-sition; and, on the analogy of The Mystical Fountain panel in the Escorial, which was undoubtedly derived from The Ghent Altarpiece, she further postulates a sculptured representation of Ecclesia accepting the mystery of the Eucharist on the left and of Synagoga rejecting it on the right. Above the tabernacle and predella and revealed through an arcade of columns 4Philip, ibid., p. viii. The Eucharist in the Ghent Altarpiece / 37 reminiscent of the supporting columns of a raised reliquary casket in a reliquary altar-shrine, would have been seen the existing panels of the Mystical Lamb and the four side panels of the judges, the knights, the her-mits, and the pilgrims . . . all converging on the Altar of the Lamb in the central panel. On the upper level, in the center, framed like the figures on a raised metal reliquary shrine, there would have been displayed the ex-tant great figure of Christ enthroned, accompanied by the Virgin Mary on His right and St. John the Baptist on His left, along with singing vested an-gels in panels on each side. This upper range would have been terminated horizontally at either end by the nude figures of Adam and Eve in a different perspective from that of the figures in the five central panels. They would have actually been incorporated into the sculptured frame of the entire composition rather than into the space of the center panels. And above this range Professor Philip postulates, again rather convincingly, the existence of a sculptured tower like the traditional Gothic tabernacle towers such as the one still in existence in St. Peter's Church in Louvain. And in it she further postulates, again on the analogy of several comparable com-positions in illuminated manuscripts and altars, the existence of a sculptured figure of God the Father. Christ the Priest Hence, in the complete composition as she reconstructs it, the icono-graphical program begins with the figure of God the Father on the top tower commissioning the Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. (This scene of the Incarnation itself would actually be revealed in the An-nunciation scene which would appear immediately below the sculptured figure of God the Father when the panels were closed.) At other times what would appear in this position is the figure of Christ enthroned ful-filling the destiny consequent upon this Incarnation--that of functioning as the Eternal Highpriest offering Himself as the Eternal Sacrifice to God the Father. His priestly function is symbolized by the crossed stole He wears and by the triple tiara. He is accompanied to the right and left, as He always was represented in the Byzantine Heavenly Liturgy, by angels vested in the dalmatics and copes of deacons and subdeacons of the Mass, who join Him in offering up the Eternal Sacrifice of the Mass. Mary sits crowned on His right in recognition of her part in that sacrifice because of the human body she gave Him in which He suffered and died. And St. John the Baptist, the precursor who foresaw and foretold that Christ was the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world, is enthroned on the left and points to Christ in the central panel. On the far extreme ends of this upper range, but properly represented in a different perspective than that of the figures in the central panels, are the realistic nude figures of Adam and Eve. They do belong here be~;ause it was their sin that occasioned the De- Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 cree of the Incarnation by God the Father and because they are also the first fruits of the redemptive Sacrifice of Christ commemorated in this range by the figure of Christ functioning as the Priest of the Eternal Mass. Art historians have spoken of Adam and Eve as being out of place in this range and put there by the artist to fill up empty spaces created by a clumsy combination of panels originally meant for separate altarpieces. This is so far from being the truth, Professor Philip points out, that the whole com-position was originally called The Altar o[ Adam and Eve rather than The Mystical Lamb. The fact that iconography and decorative details of the three central upper panels are derived from and simulate the raised metal reliquary of a reliquary altar symbolize, Professor Philip suggests, both the arks of the Old Testament and the Eucharistic Tabernacle of the New Testament. This again brings us back to the central Eucharistic focus of the whole polyptych. Related to this, too, is the beautiful gemmed crown at the foot of the enthroned Christ--a reminder of Christ's own glorification which followed His sacrificial offering of Himself and His resurrection as well as of the reward that.follows the Martyrs' sacrificial offering of themselves with and for Christ. This symbolic meaning of the crown occurs in many early Christian representations and is often actually associated with the Of-fertory of the Mass as it is, for instance, in the procession of Virgin Martyrs carrying crowns in an Offertory procession in the beautiful mosaics of San Appolinare Nuovo in Ravenna. The Mystical Lamb On the lower painted range and seen through an arcade of columns at a simulated greater distance than the large figures in the upper range and therefore in a much smaller scale, appears the figure of the Mystical Lamb. He is mounted on an altar and is shedding His blood into a chalice. He is on a vertical axis with the postulated figure of God the Father, and with the enthroned figure of Christ as Highpriest. Between Him and the figure of Christ as Highpriest above appears the much controverted figure of a dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit. The Mystical Lamb on His altar is the central focusing point of a vast landscape stretching across all five panels of this range and acting as a setting for the great processions of figures from all walks of life moving towards the Altar of the Lamb. The altar itself is sur-rounded by figures of the prophets and apostles and by angels, all vested in amices and albs, either carrying the instruments of Christ's passion or incensing the Lamb on the altar. The whole vast scene is obviously focused on another symbolic representation of the Sacrifice of the Mass--but this time represented in the Heavenly Jerusalem. And Christ appears here not as the priest but as the Lamb--the Sacrificial Victim pouring out His blood for the redemption of mankind. In the figure of the dove hovering The Eucharist in the Ghent Altarpiece / 39 over the scene we are reminded of the action of the Holy Spirit in the Incarnation by which the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity became man and was thus enabled to become the redeeming Sacrificial Lamb. The Great Fountain In" the foreground of the central panel and again on an axis with God the Father, Christ as High Priest, and Christ as Sacrificial Lamb, is the figure of a great fountain, which, as it were, is being fed by the Saving Blood of the Lamb above. And from the fountain runs a stream which, in Professor Philip's postulation, terminates at the tabernacle housing the ci-borium which contained the real Eucharistic presence of Christ Himself. She remarks pertinently of this probable juxtaposition: With the representation of the Lamb's sacrifice shown directly at his eye level, the viewer was compelled to feel that he was witness to this scene. He saw the sacred water, the result of the celestial sacrifice, flowing directly into the vessel from which the priest would hand him the Host. The believer thus virtually became a participant in the celestial rite.g In this way the work of art becomes almost a part of the liturgical and sacra-mental function and underlines the significance of that function. There are many other insights that this new interpretation of The Ghent Altarpiece provides but I have room to call attention to only one more. Professor Philip presents good evidence for the former existence of a water color antependium that once hung before the altar table of The Ghent Altarpiece which represented Hell. Hence, with this antepen-dium in place, the whole composition could also have been read as a Last Judgment scene arranged vertically very much as the Eyckian Last Judg-ment panel in the Metropolitan Museum. In such a reading it is the accept-ance or rejection of the Sacrifice of the Mass, represented by the enthroned figure of Christ as High Priest and by Christ as Sacrificial Victim in the Mys-tical Lamb, and of the Mass in time as offered by the priest at the real altar in the chapel of Saint Bavo's Cathedral, that results in either the welcome extended to the blessed in the Heavenly Jerusalem or the condemnation meted out to the lost in Hell. Conclusion But, however you read the various motifs combined in this great polyp-tych, and there are several other motifs discussed by Professor Philip be-sides those that I have detailed here, the central focus of all of them is the Mass and the Eucharist. Professor Philip's relook at this greatly con-troverted masterpiece "in the very context of its own original setting and pur-pose" has indeed provided important new insights on its nature and mean-ing. Her study shows a marvelous interplay in this great masterpiece be- ~Philip, ibid., p. 67. 40 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 tween theology, liturgy, and art. And this more contextual study of the work has suggested some cogent solutions to the problems that have plagued the study of it throughout its history. Whether the reader can accept all Professor Philip's postulations and suggested reconstructions or not, her study does show how intimately art can serve theology and the liturgy; and, in turn, how much inspiration both theology and the liturgy can bring to a creative artist when they are all as happily married as they seem to be in her interpretation of this great work by Jan van Eyck. To Pray Is to Work Sister Marilyn Feehan, C.S.J. Sister Marilyn teaches religion at Cohoes Consolidated Catholic School and lives at St. Agnes Convent; 32 Johnston Avenue; Cohoes, New York 12047. The strong reactions of years past to the "to work is to pray" adage indi-cated the seriousness with which the dictum was taken. Conflicting opin-ions have explored, exposed, and explained not only both sides of the question but also the solid base of agreement that will eventually underpin any solution. Would that the same expansive reaction could be expected to the state-ment, "To pray is to work"! The self-evident quality of those words may appeal to some, but to at least two points of view, the phrase hardly qualifies as a defensible opin-ion, let alone an axiom. Two Objections On the one hand, those who are deeply immersed in visible, concrete activity often view time spent in preparation for, and pursuit of, the prayer experience, as time "taken from" rather than "given to." Measured in the scales of the unfinished business remaining on the agenda of man in general, and the Church in particular, prayer seems to weigh light, much as the scholar's pen is easily outweighed by the soldier's sword. The tangible ex-haustion of pouring oneself out for another testifies to the work aspect of so many activities, but is prayer seen perhaps as a private, esoteric action, a relic of the God-and-I syndrome? For some, then, prayer is not work because it does not seem to demand the exertion and effort of the concrete apostolates. On the other hand, those who see life iri terms of free, spontaneous gift, view prayer as an instinctive turning of the heart in its overflow towards 41 42 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 the Source of all that is good. What place i~ there i'n this for "work," foi" serious directed activity towards a foreseen goal? Have not the days of meditation points, reflections, and resolutions at least been replaced, if not repudiated? The insertion of a serious work element into the prayer ex-perience seems to threaten the human freedom of the act, to foreshadow perhaps a return to confining structures that once satisfied and now con-strain. For others, then, prayer is not work because it ought not to be such. This segment of the Church is skeptical of any view of prayer as a discipline to which one responds in reason, rather than with feeling. Both objections, in seeing prayer from too restricted a point of view, miss the overall scene. By zeroing in on the work quality of one kind of activity, the first group ignores the effort required in true prayer because it is not recognizable to them as work. One might well say: "The work involved in prayer is not identical to the work involved in concrete activity." Agreed, but need one add: "Therefore, it does not call forth real effort"? In fact, dare one add that judgment? Contrarily, by pinpointing the spontaneity of prayer, as a free response to the ever-approaching, ever-approachable God, the second group ignores the human process and fantasizes that prayer is somehow excluded from rather than the culmination of the normal cause-and-effect character of man's actions. To fail to reach the goal of union with God in prayer is a great sadness; to cut oneself off from that goal in the very name of seeking it is a tragedy. Prayer Is Work The thesis of this article is indeed simple: To pray is to work. The two notions in the proposition could well be clarified if the phrase is to be properly understood. In this context then, what is prayer and what exactly is work? Prayer is the union of the human person with the very Person of the absolute Good by means of tentative responses to the overtures made by God in this present life. This union may be fleeting or steadfast, whole-hearted or weak, clear or confused, but always directed in some manner to the God who first called out, from the man who humanly responds. Of particular importance in the definition is the overriding creative role of the personal Lord who initiated the whole process and elicits from man all that he is capable of giving at any one time. Seen from the viewpoint of the pray-er, the union can be dissatisfying, often marred by his very humanness, so unsure in both its verbal and sensible manifestations, but always pointed in vague hope to the future when he will know even as he is known. This prayer involves real work, that is, the physical and mental efforts To Pray Is to Work / 43 and activities that are directed towards the accomplishment of something, in this case, union with God. Again, any restriction of outlook to this single aspect of prayer as work would be a serious error. Let no one assume that personal effort is the only element of importance or that striving ever takes the place of receptivity to God's initiative. No, but on the other hand, let no one ignore these fac-tors. What kind of work is usually helpful in the pursuit of union with God in prayer? Three classifications of human effort immediately suggest them-selves: the physical, the intellectual, and the psychological. Physical Work Because God is the initiator, no formula of quantitative physical activi-ties can possibly signal the prayer experience. However, one can mention two observable physical efforts that usually assist it to take hold: presence and place. By presence is meant the conscious choosing of a situation that to the pray-er is sacred. Just as the needs of the body are faced, met, and often celebrated, as at meals, the need to pray should be faced squarely, met honestly and celebrated openly. To be consciously present to the Lord once or twice a day can well be termed "work" because of the effort and dis-cipline a man must exercise to examine the day, to plan out a possible time, and then to set the seal of sacredness on it in a very real sense. To wait for an available hour, to let choice melt into convenience, is to forego the human right to choose and follow through, intimating that man's role in this adventure is mere formality, ritualistic at most. By place is signified the thoughtful selection of a particular setting that has proved to be a means for opening the person to life, especially to Life Himself. For one, the choice is the quiet of a chapel; for another, a hillside in the evening; for one, the noise and stimulation of a city street; for an-other, the silence and peace of a private room; for one, the strain of dis-comfort; for another, the ease of a favorite chair. This is indeed a worthy search for any man: to seek out the physical scene in which the hand of God has easy access to him. But if the search is not made, if the meeting place is left to chance, will God come? Yes, but not as forcefully and fully ¯ as He would have if the pray-er had reasonably prepared himself. Intellectual Work Intellectual work is the second kind of exertion that prayer calls forth, or rather, that calls forth prayer. Two areas of overriding importance are serious study of God and deep thought about life, both of which require real effort. To meet a person and be fascinated by him is to want to know more about him, to come closer to him. In prayer, one meets God in a strange, 44 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 personal way and the natural reaction is to wander off, awe-struck, in search of more knowledge of Him and closeness to Him. In very fact, the Scriptures serve just that purpose in explaining bits and pieces of His actions, in exposing aspects of His person, in hinting at His secrets. Leaving the sacred writings on the shelf is tantamount to asserting that one has no need of or interest in them. They represent the inexhaustible source of truth and inspiration, one that is accessible but useless unless man's intelli-gence reaches out to it. In a lesser category are the spiritual writings that collectively trace man's aspirations towards God across the centuries. No one is called upon to master that myriad of books but certainly insights can be gleaned and deep feelings triggered by exposing oneself to those movements of other men towards God. The second practical intellectual work that prayer fathers forth is serious thinking on personal questions, religious or not. Nothing is easier to do than to put off, sometimes indefinitely, the reasoning through of a troubling situa-tion or the planning out of a future course of action. The outcome is fre-quently an inability to pray because the unresolved problem lies in wait to capture the attention as soon as man turns to the Unseen. Of particular importance is the exploration of the question put by Jesus to Peter: "What do you think of Me?" Often the picture-book images of God fade with the years while man carefully avoids examining the change for fear of what he will have to face, a fear that feeds on his closed intellectual attitude. Can man reach union with God in prayer without serious intellectual ac-tivity? Yes, but in this culture and time, for most persons, the intellectual effort is a practical necessity, though not a speculative one. Psychological Work Psychologically, a man works to keep his person open and at the same time to channel negative intrusions into growth situations, both of which require considerable effort. Because the pray-er is so vulnerable in the very act of praying as he ex-poses himself to the Lord, he is often struck, almost mortally, by his own weakness. Reacting to this wound, he can turn in confusion and deny his prayer in hopes of obliterating the pain. Or else he can work to face the truth, examine it, feel its deep shame, and wait in faith for the calm that will eventually come when he accepts himself as completely as God has al-ready accepted him. Of equal importance is the work involved in man's use of negative emo-tions to nurture positive development towards God. Self-pity in all its guises drives one away from prayer because of its centering on the person rather than on God, as a kind of subtle idolatry. Effort is needed to accept this weakness, then offer it as sacrifice to the Lord, and receive back from Him the self-knowledge that means growth. Merely collapsing in the face of such To Pray Is to Work / 45 an embarrassing self-revelation is hardly a stepping stone to prayer, but the end result can be a meaningful asset. God is certainly not bound to unite Himself to a man on the basis of his psychological maturity but He is clearly worshiped by a person's attempt to reach out to the unseen hand that in turn reaches out so lovingly towards him. To repeat the original thesis: physical, intellectual, and psychological work are an integral part of the prayer experience, with no claims of absolute necessity but rather a serious call on man's consideration in view of his very human needs. To ignore or belittle the work aspect of prayer is to fail to understand either work or prayer. To pray is indeed to work, not as a slave to fulfill a command and escape a punishment, but as a son to experience a joy and answer a loving Father. The Prayer of the Heart Michael Azkoul Father Michael Azkoul is a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church outside of Russia and lives at 912 Bellstone Road; Shrewsbury, Missouri 63119. A preliminary version of this ,article appeared under the title "Out of the Heart" in the March 1972 issue of The Russia, Orthodox Journal. In the Western world, the "heart" is considered to be the scat' of the emo-tions, especially the emotion of "love." Eastern spirituality, however, dis-covers in the "heart," kardia, not the source of emotions, but the spiritual center of man. As Father Meyendorff once observed, the "heart" is some-thing akin to the "subconscious." In fact, it is the very fount of good and evil in every man. In the words of our Lord: "For out of the heart proceeds evil reasoning, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, lying, blasphemy . " (Mt 15:19). Without the "pure heart," it is impossible to "see God" (Mt 5:8). We are commanded to love God with all our "heart" (Lk 10:27). It is with the "heart" that we attain salvation, for St. Paul writes: "If you con-fess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved" (Rom 10:9). Guarding the Heart According to the Eastern fathers, the "heart" is the central force in human nature. A man becomes what his "heart" is and the "heart" is what we permit it to become. Therefore, it must be protected from all evil in-fluence. "Guard the heart," phylake kardias, they admonish. Keep away from anything which might pollute it, that is, any situation, person, or thing that leads to sin, amartia. The Scriptures, the fathers, a spiritual guide,1 and 1In the East spiritual guides are almost always monks. The word for such a monk is starets (Slavonic) or hegemon (Greek), that is, an "elder" or "old man" who by the grace of God has received spiritual gifts such as spiritual insight and discernment, enabling him to act in a special way to be a spiritual guide or director. Anyone accepting that direction must expect to be absolutely obedient. 46 The Prayer of the Heart / 47 sometimes our own experience teach us what to avoid. Generally, we can "guard the heart" through obedience, humility, chastity, fasting, prayer, and the sacraments. In particular, the "heart" is protected by controlling the faculty of "imagination." This faculty of the mind, nous, is the power with which we form, compare, connect, and separate images. With it we speculate, phanta-size, and ruminate. The "imagination," phantasia, arranges the data given to it, whether from the world of objects and persons, a priori knowledge, or the experience of the mind with God or demons. The devil and his angels are man's great antagonists, according to the fathers. From the imagination, the "image," now received by the mind, passes irresistibly to the "heart" and from the "heart" to the "flesh." The body, then, is excited, agitated, sometimes driven to acts of violence, murder, lust, and malice. St. Silouan of Mount Athos (d. 1937) observed that every "passion," pathe, is the result of a "sinful image." And since, as St. Macarius of Egypt (c. 330) says, "the heart commands and rules the whole body," what enters the "heart" must reign over all the members of the body. So long, too, as "vexatious and lying images" govern the mind (and, therefore, the "heart"), we have no right to "philosophize about God," as St. Gregory the Theologian (Nazianzus) tells us in his Theological Orations. Indeed, such "philosophizing" is useless, for the impure mind and "heart" will bring no true knowledge, no union with God. Conversion of the Heart Conversely, the Holy Spirit will, by our sincere effort to achieve "pur-ity of heart," bestow the grace for its realization: Grace engraves the laws of the Spirit in the hearts of the sons of light. There-for. e, they should not draw their assurances from the Holy Scriptures alone, but the grace of God also inscribes the laws of the Spirit and the heavenly mysteries on the tablets of the heart. For the heart commands and rules the whole body. And grace, once it has filled the heart, reigns over all our mem-bers and thoughts. For in the heart are the spirit and all the thoughts of the soul and its hope. Through it, grace passes to all the members of the body. We become unlike the children of darkness in whose heart sin rules and from which sin infects the the entire body . . . (St. Macarius, Homily 15). Spiritual perfection comes only when every haunting of memory, every se-ducing idea, and every wicked image is renounced whenever they presume to enter the mind. There is, to be sure, no end to the struggle for perfec-tion in Christ. Objectively, the cure for sin is, of course, the redemption of Christ, but His saving acts must be appropriated, subjectively acquired, and ap-plied. The principal way is "purity of heart," a "purity" which is accom-plished, in the first place, by "mental prayer." Now, this "prayer" is im-possible if the mind is continually exposed to evil sensations, that is, when 48 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 the senses are subjected to spiritually debilitating perceptions. Reception of them by the mind induces the "imagination" to act and the results are cast into the "heart." "Evil images" in the "heart" eventually affect the body and, if not removed, the body finds itself in the grip of evil habits or pas-sions- greed, lust, hate, envy, gluttony, pride, and so forth. By means of the passions, declares St. John Karpatbius, the demons "torment our flesh with all manner of sin and throw the soul into confusion" which leads to "fancies," "heaviness of body," "increase of animal needs," "arrogance and haughtiness," "vainglory," "rejection of repentance," "forgetfulness of death," "despondency and boredom," "a special inclination for earthly occu-pations," and "hardness." The devil is relentless. He uses every means to "drag the soul after him," warns St. Barsanupius. He bombards our sense with sights, titillating, agitating, and licentious; with foods and drinks, delicious and pleasant to the eyes, with voluptuous aromas, and so forth; and, indeed, all the allure and power of the aeon rush upon our weak and vulnerable natures, ever-enticing, ever-proliferating, mounting, everything soft and warm and tanta-lizing, anything to storm the suburbs of the soul in order to conquer the "heart," its citadel. The temptations men face are those of Adam which St. John described as "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life" (1 Jn 2:16). Spiritual Combat and Prayer The surest response to the incessant barrage of evil is "withdrawal," but not all men are called to be monks. We must, nevertheless, undertake the "spiritual combat" (Eph 6:10-9) which differs from the monks' struggle only by degree--only by the fact that "the field of battle" is slightly altered. It is true, nevertheless, that the spirituality of the Eastern Church is the spirituality for all her members. Monks are not a special class, only the highest stratum within the Church, albeit "the true and authentic Chris-tian," as St. Basil the Great calls him. For both monk and "ordinary Chris-tian," the enemy is the same, the weapons fundamentally the same. The great weapon is "mental or interior prayer," prayer with the Name of Jesus. In the words of St. Macarius: Be attentive to the Name of the Lord, Jesus Christ, by contrition of heart. When your lips are moving, draw it to yourself and do not lead it to your mind only to repeat it, rather ponder your invocation, "O, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me!" Then, in your repose you will be aware of His Divinity present to you. It will drive away the darkness of passions . . . it will purify the inner man . . (Apoph, 16). The believer must turn away from the "outside world"-and seek the things of the Spirit--"The kingdom of God is within you"--a "turning," incidentally, symbolized by the Eastern Hesychasts who prayed with heads bowed and eyes fixed on the abdomen. To be sure, no one can avoid sense The Prayer o] the Heart / 49 perceptions altogether, but the believer can fortify himself against those in-imical to him. Also, the Church offers spiritually beneficial alternatives to the destructive sensations of the "world"--rites, icons, incense, psalmody, candles, vestments, prostrations, flowers, palms, and so forth. She well understands that man cannot exist within an "imageless world." Nor is the destiny of man to be a "pure spirit." The Jesus Prayer It follows, then, that Orthodox spirituality relates body to spirit in prayer. Posture and attitude, sound and sight are utilized. "Interior" or "mental" prayer also begins at the empirical level. It is initiated with words spoken aloud and only when we have perfected "interior prayer" does it become "prayer of the heart." The petition most common in Orthodox spirituality is the Jesus Prayer--"Oh, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner" (an adaptation of the prayer of the publican in Lk 18: 10-4). This prayer is not only the epitome of Orthodox doctrine, but is implicitly the totality of her piety. As St. John Cassian wrote: "Let the Name of Jesus cling to your breath and your whole life, for it is your faith and your salvation." The technique of this prayer is not complicated. "Those who approach the Lord," writes St. Macarius, "should make their prayer in a state of calm (hesychia), peace, and great tranquility, without anxiety and con-fusion. Rather let him come to the Lord with complete attention (prosexein ton noun), with effort of the heart and sobriety of thought (nepsis)." When we come to pray, therefore, we must come humbly, without hate for anyone, without desire, ready to yield everything to God, confessing our sins, and holding to true doctrine. Neither must we be concerned what we are to say, for "the Spirit helps us in our weakness . . . himself interceding for us with sighs too deep for words. And He who searches the hearts of men knows the mind of the spirit, because the Spirit mediates for the saints according to the Will of God" (Rom 8:26-7). Furthermore, the body is involved in the Jesus Prayer (as in all types of prayer). There is no particular position, for it, although, in the Orthodox Church, kneeling is forbidden between Pasch and Pentecost and on Sun-days. Sitting, often in'a Yoga position, lying on the back are acceptable. When the invocation of God begins, we ought .to be relaxed. To keep the eyes from wandering, it is useful to use a candle and icon. Incense may con-tribute to the atmosphere, to give a sense of the Divine Presence and to set the mood for the great physico-spiritual task about to commence. Then, as The Pilgrim says, we must pray sincerely and ~lowly, "without ceasing," the Jesus Prayer. The words are repeated again and again. Some ascetics have recited as many as fifteen hundred in one night, some many more. Simul-taneously, the believer must str.uggle against contrary thoughts and fatigue, but persistence, night after night, will bring the victory. (Of course, there is 50 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 no reason to limit the Jesus Prayer to night and a certain physical posture; it may be recited at any time.) The Prayer o| the Heart Gradually, as we persevere in obedience to our guide (if one is avail-able) and continue diligently in prayer, the mind will be cleansed. The soul and body will be kindled with "the flame of grace," to use the phrase of St. Symeon the new Theologian. This is the sign of the Holy Spirit's presence. If we perfect ourselves sufficiently through prayer, fasting, obe-dience, chastity, and good works--prayer intensifying all the time--we may be privileged to see "the divine light," "the Light o~ Mount Tabor," "the Light of the Glorified Christ," "the Light of God's Uncreated Energies," "the Light of the Transfiguration." In other words, as the mind or spirit trains itself to resist evil sensations and control the imagination, the believer learns "to collect the mind in the midst of the heart and pray with silent words." Soon words will not be necessary, then, not even thoughts, because the Name of Jesus has entered the "heart" and is repeated, automatically, with the beat of the physical organ itself. The soul, like a flower reaching for the sun, ascends to God; the warmth of God's Uncreated Energies, Light and Grace, increase; the "heart" is "purged" (katharsis); and, finally, the total man becomes "di-vine" (theosis). Thus, being "like God," we shall "see" Him "face to face" (that is, the "deified" will "see" the eternal God-Man, the enthroned Christ --no one may ever behold the "face" of the Father). This "union" (he-nosis) is the final end of the Jesus Prayer, of all prayer, for, according to the Eastern Church, salvation is nothing else but "union with God," deifi-cation, the mortal becoming immortal, the corruptible becoming incorrup-tible, the sinful becoming sinless, eternal "rest," "partaking of the divine nature" (2 Pt 1:4). Bibliographical Note For those interested in making a more detailed study of Orthodox spirituality and of the prayer of the heart, the following books are recommended: The Arena: Art Offering to Contemporary Monasticism by His Grace, Bishop Ignatius Brianchaninov (originally published in Russian in 1867 but now rendered into English) (Madras, 1970). The Art o[ Prayer, trans, by Kadloubovsky and Palmer (London, 1966). The intro-duction to this work provides an excellent discussion of the Jesus Prayer. Early Fathers [tom the Philokalia, trans, by E. Kadloubovsky and G. E. H. Palmer (London, 1954). The same scholars have translated Later Fathers o] the Philo-kalla; at present, they are involved with other scholars in a complete translation of this formidable treasure of Eastern spirituality. The Ladder of Divine Ascent by St. John Climacus, trans, by Archmandrite Lazarus Moore (London, 1959). Mystic Treatises by St. Isaac the Syrian (Isaac of Niniveh), trans, by A. J. Wensinck (Amsterdam, 1923). Ott the Prayer o] Jestts, trans, by Archmandrite Lazarus Moore (London, 1952), Prayer and Work: Protestant Religious Orders for Women Elizabeth Moltmann-Wendel The following article is a translation of a German article that appeared originally in Evangelische Kommentare, May 1972, pages 280-283. The translation was made by Charles W. Pfeiffer, a doctoral student in the Divinity School of St. Louis University; 3658 West Pine Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. The translation is published with the kind permission of the editor of Evangelische Kommentare. The address of the author is: Dr. Elizabeth Moltmann-Wendel; Hausserstrasse 43; 74 Tiibingen, West Germany. In a poor quarter of Algeria there live three women. One works during the day as a teacher, another as a nurse, and the third keeps house. They subsist in the hot and arid poverty of those countless millions who live on the edge of society and suffer in their environment a spiritual and material deprivation which defies description and far outweighs any relief provided by social organizations. Their neighbors stand in amazement. The children are the first to approach and to quizzically explore the significance of this house which is always open to everyone. Out of these initial contacts a mutual trust begins to grow. The Muslim understand trust and come with their personal and social problems while the three women, having come from the security of bourgeois, European homes, learn from the Muslim how to survive and manage with a small amount of water. When the revo-lution breaks out, the white people hasten to flee the country, but the three women stay on to the even greater astonishment of their neighbors: "They have not fle!! God is present among us!" The Sisterhood of Grandchamp To live with neither missionary ambitions nor in direct diaconal engage-ment but in solidarity and friendship with the poorest of the poor is the basic premise of the Sisterhood of Grandchamp, a French-Swiss religious 51 52 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 order for women to which these three women belong. Similar to the French Catholic orders, the Little Sisters of Jesus and the Little Brothers of Jesus, without special words or deeds they "live friendship" at the apex of social distress. Thus they have founded cells in Lebanon, in the industrial area of the Parisian suburb of Saint-Quentin, in Vlaardingen near Rotterdam, in a high-rise apartment building in a suburban settlement near Lyons, in Israel, and in Lucerne. The sisters maintain their financial independence from the order by earning their keep as cleaning ladies, workers, nurses, and secretaries. One of them is always at home to keep the house or apart-ment open for those who seek advice or companionship. Their motto is "Pray and Work," and the community rule sums up their purpose in one sentence: "Be among men a sign of brotherly love and joy." In the beginning this order was actually of a quite different nature. During the Thirties some women from French-speaking Switzerland de-cided that through reflection and contemplation (retreats) they wanted to experience once again the meaning of their lives. They rented a house in Grandchamp near Areuse on Lake Neuenburger. An increasing number of guests desirous of some days of quiet meditation began to assemble. The reception of these guests allowed the women to gradually grow to-gether into a community. They designated themselves as sisters and asked the initiator of the first retreats, Madame Micheli, to join them in the capac-ity of Mother. In 1952, eight of the sisters and the Mother committed themselves to remain together for life. One year later they joined the young, Protestant, Swiss Brotherhood of Taiz6 in Burgundy and adopted the brotherhood's rule and liturgical prayer. During the closing years of the War the Swiss Brotherhood of Taiz~ grew fr

Issue 30.3 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to RI~VIEW Fog R~LIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University. the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 3 JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. Profile of the .Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits For various reasons the subject of what is traditionally known in Christian spirituality as discernment of spirits is coming to the fore. The literature on the subject is growing.1 Without pretending to discover something new we hope to add another point of view to the traditional way of looking at the discernment of spirits. Ordinarily the idea of discernment of spirits is con-cerned for the most part with the interior motions in the individual.2 With tbe help of prayer, purification, and spiritual direction one attempts to sift out the various movements to see what is genuinely prompted by the Holy Spirit from what is alien, in order to come to a decision in accord with the movement of the Spirit. The emphasis in discernment has been located mainly in the individual subject and with the attempt to discern the various elements at work in himself. Today, however, it seems necessary to bring out other complementary 1 See the excellent study lgnatian Discernment by John Carroll Futrell, S.J., "Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits," n. 2 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970). In the third footnote of this work there is a select bibliography of works on discernment. -" "Discernment. involves choosing the way of the light of Christ instead of the way of the darkness of the Evil One and living out the consequences of this choice through discerning what specific decisions and actions are demanded to follow Christ here and now. The diakrisis pneumatfn---discernment of spirits--is a 'sifting through' o1: interior experiences in order to determine their origin and to discover which ones are movements toward following the way of light" (Futrell, Ignatian Discernment, p. 47). j. R. Sheets, S.J., teaches in the De-partment of Theol-ogy of Marquette University in Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53233 VOLUME .~0, 1971 363 4. 4. 1. R. Sheets, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 364 aspects in order to do justice to a wider view of man. There has to be a broader view of discernment of spirits to keep pace with a developing Christian anthropology. We would like to view discernment as the two mutually interdependent loci of an ellipse. Traditionally only one of the loci has received attention: the subject and the internal movements of his soul. This view has to be com-plemented with the other focus of ~ttention which is concerned with what is "ahead of" the subject. This takes into consideration the term of all discern-ment which is closer ~znion while not neglecting the origins of the movement. It emphasizes discernment as a way of seeing the convergence of various elements to effect greater union. It lays stress on the "Spirit-ahead" of us, calling us, rather than concentrating only on the "Spirit-behind-us," moving us from within. Further, it brings out the fact that discernment is not simply a way for one's own spiritual advancement, but that it has a larger dimension. It is the way that history becomes weighted with the power of the Spirit, the way that the Spirit inserts Himself into the movement of history, giving it a Christic orientation. Instead of what can often be simply self-analysis it pints the emphasis on the char-acteristics o~ the Holy Spirit which form a profile against which we project the incipient movements in ourselves. Discernment, therefore, is a process of seeing incipient growth of the Spirit, distinguishing this from what is in reality incipient death. It is like trying to see the face of someone at a distance. That is only possible if one is well acquainted with the "face of the Spirit" before one at-tempts to recognize Him from a distance. For this reason in the last section of what follows we have tried to sketch the main features of His face. Discernment, therefore, has to do with the pneumatic self, the spirited self. Too often, however, it is looked upon as some kind of a supernatural psychoanalysis. We approach a spiritual phenomenon with an attitude and apparatus that are unspiritual, as if we had some kind of a water witch to detect where the genuine fountains lie. We must approach the spiritual spiritually. Discernment is related to human prudence but is not identified with it. Through discernment we try to see how the Spirit-ahead is drawing things into a Christic focus. The place where all of these converge is the epiphany of the Spirit. The tighter the convergence the closer the union, and the more does the Spirit place His imprint on the self and on history. This type of discernment is not simply a good prudential judgment. It does not arise out of the data presented, though it makes use of all the data. It is a judgment which is the result of an encounter of the Holy Spirit from above with the human spirit from below. It is larger than the data though it makes use of all the data. It involves not only good sense but an affinity with the person of the Spirit and empathy with His goals. Human prudence is also a judgment about convergence, but it arises entirely from a correct assessment of the data. There is not anything in the prudential judgment which was not in some way in the data before. Prudence draws the various elements into a judgment for action by draw-ing them into a human focus. Spiritual discernment draws them into a Christic focus. The two processes of judging are related to one another in a way analogous to the re-lationship of reason to faith. This also helps us see how the Christic focus can be achieved even though, after doing all that is possible, the human focus fails. This is the mystery of Christ's Passion and Resurrection. Failure, frustration, death o1: the hu-man point of focus can be taken up into the Christic focus and result in an even greater epiphany of the Spirit. Before we attempt to draw up some norms for the dis-cernment of spirits, it will be helpful to present very briefly some preliminary ideas concerning (1) the need for discernment, (2) the difficulty, (3) the dynamics of dis-cernment, namely, the presence of the Spirit in the Christian, (4) the moments and the modalities of dis-cernment. The Need for Discernment Discernment is necessary to answer the fundamental question: Along which path does life lie, not life simply as existence, but life in greater abundance? All discern-ment is a matter of determining the path of life from the path of death: "And you are to say to this people, 'Yahweh says tiffs: Look, I now set in front of you the way of life and the way of death' " (Jr 21:8). The difficulty comes from the fact that the path of death simulates that of life. The very first temptation presented in Scripture shows the need for discernment. The life offered by God is presented as death, and the death offered by the serpent is presented as life: "You would not die at all: for God knows that the very day you eat of the tree your eyes will be opened, and you will be like gods who know good from evil" (Gn 4:5). In the Old Testament two main types of discernment are shown to be necessary: the necessity of the prophet to discern within himself what comes from God's word from his own "dream," 3 and secondly the need for the people n"The prophet who has a dream, let him tell a dream; and he who has a word, let him speak my word faithfully, says the Lord. What has the chaff in common with the wheat? says the Lord" (Jr 23:28). There ~ire many places where the prophets distinguish what comes from them and what comes from God; /or example, Am 7:2-9,15; 8:1-2; Mi 7:!-10; Is 6:5-12; 16:9-11. 4- + + Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 365 4. 4. 4. ]. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~66 to discern the false prophet from the true.4 The experi-ence of Elijah is a paradigm for the discernment of spirits. He did not find God in any of the commotions ordinarily associated with a divine epiphany, the wind, earthquake, fire, but in the gentle breeze, which was the least likely form of God's manifestation (1 Kg 19:9-13). In the New Testament there is much more stress than in the Old on the need for discernment. Christ Himself as filled with the Holy Spirit is the discerner: "And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wis-dom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and power, a spirit of knowledge and of the fear of Yahweh. (The fear of Yahweh is his breath.) He does not judge by appear-ances, he gives no verdict on hearsay." (is 11:2-3). He discerns the temptation of the evil one in the desert, the activity of the devil in Judas, and the evil hearts of those who want to kill Him (see Jn 8:33-4). He discerns His own heart as always open to the Father: "I always do what is pleasing to him" (Jn 8:29). He stressed the need for dis-cernment because there will be many who claim His own authority to speak (see Mt 24:6). John stresses the fact that spiritual phenomena in the Church have to be discerned: "But do not trust any and every spirit, nay friends; test the spirits, to see whether they are from God" (I Jn 4:1). He goes on to describe the norm for discernment: "Every spirit which acknowl-edges that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit which does not thus acknowledge Jesus is not fi-om God." The Holy Spirit speaks one word wlxich is rich in its tonality: Christ. Botl~ in lais own life and in his instructions to others Paul emphasizes the need for discernment. The point can-not be developed here, but it would be instructive to study Paul's own life as one who discerns the Spirit. Surely the advice he gave to the Galatians was lived first of all in his own life: "If the Spirit is the source of our life, let the Spirit also direct our course" (Ga 5:25).~ He insists constantly on the need for discernment in the lives of the Christians. Often he uses the word dokimazo which means to test, prove: "Try to discover what the Lord wants of you, having nothing to do with the futile works o1: darkness bnt exposing them by con-trast" (Ep 5:10-1). "Bring all to the test" (I Th 5:21). 4 This is a favorite theme in the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, aud Ezekiel. See, for example, Is 28:7-13; 29:15-24; 56:9-12; 57:1-5; Jr 5:4,31; Ez 13; La 2:14; Ho 4:5; Dt 13:2-3. ~Paul sees his own conscience as cooperating with the Holy Spirit in forming his judgment: "I am speaking the truth as a Christian, and my own conscience, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, assures mc it is no lic: in my own heart there is great grief and unceasing sorrow" (Rm 9:1). The word he uses is "co-witnessing." "Put yourselves to the test" (2 Co 13:5). "A man must ~est himself before eating his share of the bread and drinking from the cup" (1 Co 1'1:28). There is a very special gift of discernment which belongs to the charismatic mani-festations of the Spirit: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. and another the ability to distinguish true spirits from false" (1 Co 12:4-10). This is the gift o[ discerning whether the spirits are truly spiritual, or evil. Finally he stresses the need for discernment in order to preserve the purity of the Gospel message: "The Spii-it says expressly that in after times some will desert from the faith and give their minds to subversive doctrines inspired by devils." (1 Tm 4:1). Paul sees that it is the evil spirits who are ultimately responsible for the defec-tions from the truth of the Gospel (see 2 Th 2:9-11; 2 Co 2:11). The same idea is brought out when Peter speaks of the fact that there will be false prophets among Christians just as there were among the people of Israel: "But Israel had false prophets as well as true; and you likewise will have false teachers among you" (2 P 2:1). The Scripture, therefore, in both the Old and New Testaments, shows the importance of discernment in two ways: first of all, by showing the practice of discernment in those who bring to ns the word of God (the prophets, Paul, John, Peter, and in an eminent way in Christ Him-self); and secondly by showing the need ~or discernment corresponding to three different ways in which the Spirit acts: through discerning His will for us in our personal lives, through discerning the true Gospel from the false, and through discerning a genuine charism from what is inauthentic. The Di[ficulty oI Discernment Experience shows us that it is no~ easy to discern the spirits. This is the lesson we read in Scripture, in history, and in our own personal lives. This could be developed at length. For the present, however, we would like to comment briefly on the three main sources o[ the dif-ficulty: from the term to which the Spirit is moving, from the sell, and from the circumstances. The term of all activity of the Spirit is toward greater union with Christ and through this toward union with one another. When the union which is aimed at is more personal, it is also more delicate and fragile. In love relationships the bond has more of invitation and less of physical force or compulsion, more freedom, less entrap-ment, more speaking through silence rather than through words, more awareness throngh mutnal attunement than through external signs. This is the first source of the dif- 4- 4" + Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 367. ÷ ÷ ÷ 1. R. Sheets, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ficulty of discernment. We are trying to pick up signals that are invitations to a union that is deeper. The second difficulty comes from the self. Before one can discern, he has to be discerned. He has to allow the Word of God to discern him. He must be purified by the coal from the altar of God's holiness. Religious discern-ment is not simply a matter of finding out right answers, as one does in mathematics; nor is it simply a matter of depth analysis practiced in psychology. Discernment im-plies the docility of heart which is the same as purity of heart. What is being discerned is not simply a truth as an abstraction, but a love-truth. For this reason discern-ment involves not simply knowledge but identification with the truth, and a desire for progressive assimilation. The Holy Spirit is the ~absorbing Spirit. To discern one has to open himself to allow death to be swallowed by life. The difficulty of discernment, therefore, comes from the human heart itself: "The heart is treacherous above all things, and desperately sick--who can understand it?" (Jr 17:9). We are all aware of the proclivity of the hu-man heart to rationalize any position, to overlook what-ever might direct our eyes to the truth, to adapt the truth to ourselves, rather than to adapt ourselves to the truth. The third source of difficulty of discernment comes from the circumstances. Sometimes the issue is so com-plicated that even presupposing openness to the Spirit and purity of heart it is not easy to see where greater union lies. An obvious case is that of discerning one's vo-cation. After one has taken all of the steps necessary, with the proper consultation, he has to let his net down into the unknown with trust in the Spirit who is drawing him. In describing the music of Beethoven someone wrote that when you hear it you have the feeling that the one particular note just had to follow the other, that it was, so to speak, made in heaven. No other note would have fitted the "logic of beauty." This remark about music can easily be applied to the discernment of the note of the Spirit that simply "has to" follow. It is not easy to discern it, but it does follow a sequence that is the "logic of the Spirit." If one is attuned to the Spirit he has a sense for the "logic of the Spirit." The Dynamics of Discernment: The Presence of the Spirit in the Christian We have to recover the New Testament sense of the role of the Spirit in Cltristian life. What the soul of man is to his natural life, the Spirit is to Christian life. The Spirit is the source, guide, atmosphere, tone, pattern of Christian life. Once again we have to content ourselves in the interests of economy of space to some brief allusions to this im-portant truth without developing it at length. The gift of the Spirit sums up the whole purpose of the Messiah's coming (Jn 1:33). The Gospel of St. John stresses the fact that through Christ's passion, death, resur-rection His own body becomes the source for the Spirit. Paul emphasizes the new life of the Christian, with the new dynamics of the Holy Spirit: "The love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given us" (Rm 5:5). The whole of Romans 8 is a description of the new spiritual order of man as contrasted with his old, unspiritual self: "So then, my brothers, there is no necessity for us to obey our unspiritnal selves or to live unspiritual lives" (Rm 8:12). The Spirit we have re-ceived has made us sons (Rm 8:15). He has revealed to our spirit the deep things of God (1 Co 2:10-1). His presence is the proof of what we cannot see, that we are sons of God (Gal 4:6-7). Through him we are renewed (Tt 3:5-6).6 It is important, therefore, to recognize the encompass-ing role of the Spirit. In discerning we are not only trying to discern the presence of the Spirit, but the very process of discerning is from-with-in-by-through the Spirit. It is Spirit as possessed and possessing attempting to discern "Spirit on the way," the movement toward greater and greater union. The Moments and Modalities of Discernment Finally, before taking up the norms for discernment, we want to say a word about the moments and modalities of discernment. By moments we mean the qualities that distinguish in importance different periods of time, either by reason of special gifts of the Spirit or special decisions to be made. Modalities of discernment refer to the various ways in which the spirits are discerned. Not every human moment is a divine moment. Sacred history teaches us that there are certain moments which are kairoi, special moments of grace, where history re-ceives a special impetus of the Spirit. This is true in one's personal life as well as the life of the Church. These are moments of special invitations by the Spirit, of special response, and of special discernment. Further there is a modality of discernment which be-longs to the ordinary day-to-day living of our lives and one which belongs to special occasions. In the ordinary more or less routine events that make up our workaday world, discernment is not conscious or reflective but takes place through the vital dialogue between our new self as OThe Jerusalem Bible in footnote, Rm 5:5, gives an extensive series of references to the doctrine of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament. ,4- 4- 4- Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 369 graced through the Spirit and the circumstances of our lives. The habitual "spiritual set" that comes from the Spirit equips a person with an instinct for the Spirit and spiritual values. On other occasions discernment is conscious, reflective, prolonged, methodical. The rules given by St. Ignatius are among the best known help in this process of con-scious discernment. Under modalities of discernment we could also in-clude personal and group discernment. Personal discern-ment takes place in dialogue with God, the self-as-graced, and the circnmstances. Group discernment adds the social dimension. It can be imagined as a pyramid. Those in-volved have a common base, the dialogue is with God, one another, and the circumstances, searching for the point where all of these converge into the greatest union possible. The main examples of group discernment are the general councils of the Church (see the Council of Jerusalem, Acts 15:28: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and our decision"). Other groups with a common bond and goal can engage in discernment. This is differ-ent from group, discussion because it takes place in a whole new order with conscious and constant reference to the communion with God and with one anotl~er in the Spirit. We have spoken of theneed of discernment, especially as this is brought home to us through Scripture, the various difficulties in discernment, the dynamics of dis-cernment which come with a new existence in the Spirit, and the moments and modalities of discernment. With these thoughts as a background we would like to give some norms for the discernment of the presence of the Holy Spirit. They are not expected to be some kind of a handy kit for spiritual discernment. They are an attempt to present a profile of the Spirit so that we can recognize Him when we see Him. We cannot be expected to recog-nize, Him in our inner selves unless we have some idea of what He looks like in Himself. We have taken thirteen characteristics as a help to discernment basing them on the nature of the Spirit Himself. Some Norms for Discernment I. The first norm comes from the fact that the Spirit is ÷ the Holy Spirit. He is the consecrating Spirit, drawing ÷ men and the world into the orbit of God's own life.~ ÷ Holiness is one of those rich words which defies ade-quate description. It means that one's life is inauthentic, ~. R. Sheets, S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ The theme of the consecration of Christians is a common one in the New Testament. For example, Rm 15:16, where Paul speaks of his ministry as a life of consecration; 1 Co 6:11; 2 Th 2:13; Rm 8:1-13; 1 Jn 3:7,8; 1 P 2:5. no matter how good a person is, unless it is authenticized with the special life of God, that is, unless the ways of God are incarnated in the ways of man, so that man is not simply made to the image and likeness of God through creation, but is shaped to the inner life of God by be-coming the incarnation of God's ways, that is, His holiness. The sense of consecration has the concomitant feature of bringing an awareness of the desecration in our lives, a sense of sin: "He will confute the world, and show where wrong and right and judgment lie" (Jn 16:8). For this reason, the Holy Spirit will~ never be the in-spirit, the spirit of the times. Though He is the comforting Spirit, he will never be the comfort~ible Spirit. He has to il-lumine darkness, and men do not want their deeds il-lumined. Augustine's remark i~s perennially true: "They love the truth when it enlight,ens; they hate it when it reproves; they love it when it reveals its own self, and they hate it when it reveals themselves." The first rule for discernment, then, is this: Does it bring a greater sense of consecration, an integration of life through holiness, and at tl~e same time the need for purification, the sense of our distance from God? 2. The second norm is dra~n from the fact that the Holy Spirit is Spirit. Everything produces its own likeness as far as possible. The Holy Spirit by His very nature spiritualizes. It is difficult to appreciate what spirit and spiritualiza-tion mean not only because of the depth-nature of spirit, but also because of the false im'pression most people have of spirit. For many spirit means non-human, or less than human, unreal, foreign to the world of man. ~In the Scrip-ture, however, spirit connotes p',ower that is creative, over-powering, sustaining, surprisirfg, inspiring, gentle in its force, but forceful in gentleness' (see Elijah, 1 Kg 19). The spirit puts life into the dry bones of humanity: "I shall put my spirit in you and you shall live" (Ez 37:1). How does an act that is me~'ely human become spiri-tual? It becomes enveloped with, impregnated with a new life. St. Paul describes in detail the spiritual life of the Christian (Rm 8:lff): "The unspiritual are interested only in what is unspiritual, but the spiritual are inter-ested in spiritual things. It is death to limit oneself to what is unspiritual; life and peace can only come with concern for the spiritual" (Rm 8:5,6).s This provides us with the second norm for discerning the presence of the Spirit: is an act more spiritual, that is, does it bear the imprint of the Spirit? This is the same Sin the footnote to Rm 1:9 the Jerusalem Bible presents an extensive list of references to the word "Spirit" in the New Testament both as it pertains to man's spirit and to God's Spirit. + + ÷ Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 371 4, 4, 4, I. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS paradoxically enough as asking: Is the act more human, because it is the nature of Spirit through His creative power to make things more what they should be by draw-lng them into a new source of authenticity. A spiritual act bears the mark of the new creation. On the contrary, an act that is unspiritual is one that bears the marks of death, inversion, self-centeredness. Admittedly it is diffi-cult to apply this norm in some sort of an empirical fashion. It is a norm which only a spiritual person can apply because he alone can pick up the signals of spiri-tuality. 3. The third norm comes from the fact that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth: "If you love me you will keep my commandments, and I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever, the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can never receive since it neither sees nor knows him" (Jn 14:15-17). It is not easy to express all of the nuances in the Scrip-tural word "trnth." We often equate it with a mental category. In Scripture, however, it describes a way of being, or more explicitly, a way of living. It is being-faithful or living faithfully. In God's providence there are four notes that make np the one chord of fidelity: first of all, God's faithfulness to Himself or to His promise, which incarnates itself in Christ who is the manifestation of the Father's fidelity, whose fidelity in turn is poured out among men through the Spirit, who is the Spirit of Fidelity, who in turn creates the Church, which is de-scribed as the "pillar and foundation of the truth" (1 Tm 3:15). Fidelity is a way of being where one's being and acting are shaped by a relationship to a person. The real, the unsubjective, what is there, is allowed to shape one's choices. Fidelity means that the past-self is not a matter of memory but is the present-self. It is the way past identity shapes present and future identity. In philosophy being is the highest expression of what existence means. In Christianity fidelity is the highest expression of the real. In the discernment of spirits it is important to look for the note of fidelity, the degree to which we allow the word of God and His will to shape each moment of our lives, the extent to which we allow the Church as the pillar and foundation of fidelity to mediate to us God's word and will. As a negative norm for discernment any act is to be rejected which makes us less faithful, which loses the sense of the absolute, reducing everything to what is relative, seeing truth in terms only of opinions like conservative, liberal and so forth, embodying an at-titnde which sees truth only from a subjective point of view--all of these are signs that point out the spirit of infidelity, "in whom there is not truth" (Jn 8:44). The Spirit of Fidelity leaves his own stamp of fidelity. 4. In the fourth place, the Spirit of Christ is the eschatological Spirit. He is the Spirit of the Christ-who-has- come and the Christ-who-is-to-come. He is the per-sonal tension of that which is already done in Christ and that which is yet to be done in His members. His whole purpose is to pour forth the gifts that are in Christ: "Ascending on high he gave gifts to men" (Ep 4:8). The Spirit as eschatological gift is the Spirit of Per-spective. He gives us the vision of the relationship be-tween the past event in Christ, our present living out of this event, and' the future fulfillment. He gives, then, a sense of the direction of time and its relationship to eternity, of this world to the next, a sense of what is simply means and what is goal. This serves as a norm for discernment of spirits. Is there a sense of value of eternal life over temporal life, of what is permanent over the transient, of the presence of Christ as .the absolute over the relative, of awareness of the overplus of meaning over non-meaning, of direction over drift in history? Negatively, is there a loss of perspective? Are means made into ends? Is eternal life seen as the climax of love or as an abstraction? It must be confessed that eternal life does not play too large a part in our contemporary mentality. We are like people .who keep throwing life jackets to pull those who are drowning into a sinking ship. 5. In the fifth place, the Spirit of Christ is the Spirit who creates the Christian community. The various terms used for the Church in the New Testament bring out the aspect of community: one body with many members, family, people of God, temple, vineyard, city, spouse. The Holy Spirit creates community by creating unity: "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit by the peace that binds you together. There is one Body, one Spirit, just as you were called into one and the same hope when you were called" (Ep 4:3). The unity of the Church is not based on common interests, bonds of blood, or even a common goal. The bond is the Spirit who draws the members together through their faith, which is the this-side expressio.n of the inner union of the Spirit with the Father and the Son. This serves as a help to discern the spirits. Does an action tighten the bonds of unity in the community? Negatively, does it bring about division and fragmenta-tion? 6. In the sixth place, the Spirit of Christ is the Spirit of the Word made flesh. He is the sacramental Spirit, the incarnating Spirit, the "material" Spirit. Proceeding from 4- Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 373 + + J. R. Shee~s~ $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 374 the flesh of Christ He draws all flesh into the flesh of Christ: "On the last day and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood there and cried out: 'If any man is thirsty, let him come to me. Let the man come and drink who believes in me.' As Scripture says: 'From his breast shall flow fountains of living water.' He was speaking of the Spirit which those who believed in him were to receive; for there was no Spirit as yet because Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:37-9). Here we see the importance not only of the sacraments formally so called, which in reality are points of Christic concentration, vortices drawing men into°Christ, bnt the drawing presence of the Spirit through all that is material --other people, circumstances, the sacramentals of the Church. In this connection we cannot emphasize enough the importance of sign and symbol as vehicles of the Spirit. The Spirit is a hungry, thirsty Spirit. He draws men through every pore of matter into the flesh of Christ. As a norm, then, to discern the presence of the Holy Spirit we should see to what extent His sacramentalizing presence is brought OUt. Negatively, the Spirit is absent where there is a tendency towards desacramentalizing, a false depreciation of matter, or a false internalization that devalues the drawing power of sign and symbol. 7. The Spirit of Christ is the Family Spirit. The same Spirit of Christ animates Christians of all centuries, cre-ating a kindred Spirit. He creates a basic identity that transcends differences of culture, philosophy, manners, and customs. The Christian is at home with the prophets of the Old Testament, the Apostles of the New, the fathers of East and ¼Zest, and so on through history. As a norm for discernment of spirits it is helpful to ask to what extent some mode of action bears the marks of the kindred Spirit. 8. The Holy Spirit is the charismatic Spiri[. There are two ways in which He distributes His gifts: to the person for the social, and to the social for the person. He gives His gifts to individuals to build up the Church for the person. He gives His gifts to individuals to build up the Church, and gifts to the Church to sanctify persons. He is the author of both types of charism: institutionalized charism, which is the Church, with the special role of the pope and the college of bishops; and the personal charism, given to an individual for the whole Body. It is a sign of the presence of the Spirit where there is due respect for both modes of the Spirit's charismatic presence. Negatively, any spirit which puts these gifts in opposition is not the Holy Spirit. 9. The Spirit of Christ is the Spirit who opens ns to the will of the Father: "He will not speak on his own authority, but will tell only what he hears" (Jn 16:14). The Spirit is "all ears" for the will of the Father. He tries to open our ears to hear His voice. Paul makes this one of his main concerns, that the Christian seek the will of God (Ep 5:17; Col 1:9; 4:12; Ph !:9; 2:13). This acts as a norm of discernment: the extent to which we are concerned with the discovery and the living out of God's will. 10. The Spirit of Christ is the Liberating Spirit: "Now the Lord of whom this passage speaks is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty" (2 Co 3:17; see Rm 8:1-13). Much has been written about freedom. Unfortunately we have to limit ourselves to a few observa-tions. Freedom is that mysterious power at the heart of a person by which one can open oneself to other selves. It is a power of excentration, bv which the self is given, and other selves are received. It is the way in which life be-comes a sharing of persons, not simply a sharing of things. Christian freedom is a share in Christ's own free-dora through His Spirit, a power to open oneself to the Self of the Father and the Son, and to love others as Christ Himself has loved. It is a sign of the Spirit's presence where there is genuine growth in freedom, which manifests itself in a greater sense of responsibility to the Father and to others. 11. The spirit is the Spirit o[ Christ. His whole work is to reproduce the image of Christ (2 Co 3:17if). If some-thing leads to a greater awareness of Christ, then it comes from the Spirit of Christ. 12. The Spirit of Christ is the Organic Spirit. He is the Spirit who creates nnity through variety. He is the Spirit who gives not only His gifts, but shares His own power to give: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit" (1 Co 12:4). There are two ways to destroy an organic unity, either through dismemberment, or by reduction of differences to make one homogeneous mass. The true Spirit is present where there is respect for the distinctiveness ot~ His gifts and their complementarity. The evil spirit destroys either by dividing or by reducing everything to an nndiffer-entiated mass. 13. Finally, the Holy Spirit is present where he pro-duces the symphony of His life in dae Christian: "What the Spirit brings is very different: love, joy, peace, pa-tience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and selLcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This is another way of saying that He creates the image of Christ. The Spirit is present to the extent that a spiritual harmony is found in one's life. + ÷ ÷ Spirit's Protile VOLUME 30, 1971 375 Conclusion We have perhaps attempted to cover too much in such limited space. Each one of the topics touched on could be expanded indefinitely. We have tried to stress the follow-ing points. We need to see the Spirit not only as working in us and behind our actions, but as the Spirit ahead of us, drawing our lives into a Christic convergence. We have to discern the movements of the Spirit not only from the be-ginnings but from the term. Besides seeing discernment as a means for greater personal union, we have to see it as the way in which history becomes freighted with the Spirit. We stressed the role of the Spirit Himseff in our process of discernment, and familiarity with His personal characteristics in order that we might more readily recog-nize His operations. In this way we can be "transfigured into his likeness, from splendor to splendor. Such is the influence of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). 4. 4. I. R. Sheets, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS EDWARD J. FARRELL Fraternity and Review of Life For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Mt 18:20). ! am longing to see you: I want to bring you some spiritual strength, and that will mean that I shall be strengthened by you, each of us helped by the other's faith (Rm 1 : 11). Your mind must be renewed by a spiritual revolution . You must speak the truth to one another, since we are all parts of one another . let your words be for the improvement of others as occasion offers, and do good to your listeners (Eph 4: 23-9). Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you. Teach each other, and advise each other in all wisdom (Col 3: 16). Some years ago, Romano Guardini expressed his con-viction that a basic cause for diminishing faith is our inability or unwillingness to share our faith experiences with one another. Without this sharing, he believed in-dividual faith is weakened. Fifty years later, in the midst of our present theological traumas, a spiritual evolution is happening in the emergence of small-group faith com-munities which I describe as fraternities. What Is a Fraternity? A fraternity is as new and as ancient as this morning's liturgy. It is the fundamental Christian experience. The first fraternity was that begun by Christ in his calling together the Twelve. The fellowship and brotherhood (koinonia) of the early Christian communities were a fraternity experience. Today's fraternity continnes that pattern. A group comes together tO pray, to listen to the word, to share, to be responsible for one another and to one another. Its members celebrate both the present mys-tery of their life in Christ and Christ's life in and through them in the world. In a deep sense, the fraternity lives out the Eucharist in the actuality of the ordinary of life. Openness to Christ in the presence of one another de-velops a givenness to each other. This experience embodies -I- '4- Edward J. Farrell is a s~aff member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206. VOLUME 30, 377 ÷ E. 1. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 the true meaning of co-responsibility, and this co-respon-sibility nourishes the grace and charism given to each for the service of all. Through a fraternity one grows in the capacity to see more and more in the light of faith and to draw and call each other to a more complete response to the Father. Fraternity is, simply stated, the actualizing and living out our love for one another through the recognized presence of Jesus in our midst. Why Fraternity? We are caught in a time of great changes in which familiar ctdtural patterns, customs, structures, and guide-lines have been swept away. "Crisis" is on everyone's tongue--crisis in faith, crisis in education, crisis in cities, crisis in marriage. "Crisis" is a good Greek word meaning and signifying judgment, discernment, decision. In that sense, life is a crisis! Because we are free, the human condition will always be in crisis. We are always in proc-ess of growth and development and its dialectic, canght in "overchoice" and "alternate eternities." We are polarized between anonymity and community; alienation and over- .involvement; loneliness and people-suffocation. In the paradox of our life today we need commnnity, perhaps more intense community than ever. We need privacy, a solitude richer than we have ever experienced. Yet too much community stifles and depersonalizes; too much solitude begets a barren and sterile loneliness and alienation. Change generates new perceptions and fresh needs emerge. There are new levels of self-awareness, per-sonal consciousness, the quest for inner freedom, for self-determination, resistance to authority, structnres, systems. Personal relationships have displaced rules. The people yon choose to be with become themselves the structure. In times of transition and instability human institu-tions contract to basic and primary units. There is too great a gap between the large community and close friend-ship and it is into this vacuum that fraternity has moved. It neither displaces or is a substitute for either because both are necessary. Rather it is a response to a new need, a new life situation not previously known. Value of Fraternity A fraternity offers an adult experience of a family. When we were young we could not wait to move out from onr families, and then we spend the rest of our lives seeking and developing a family of friends. This family of friends, a wall of friends, is a need, a human universal which no one ever outgrows. This is not only a human need but a personal right guaranteed by the essence of the Christian experience. Fraternity is built upon the truth that we need an inner commnnity of friends. This faith commtmity is essentially for balance, for matttrity, for continuing growth. In this family of friends one can be wholly himself, loved not io mt~ch, of cottrse, for what he does, but simply that he is. Fraternity is built npon the truth that Christ willed men to be saved by men. We need one another; In fra-ternity we make onr life in Christ visible before our brothers, asking them to hold ns faithful to our call and to our grace. Perhaps the great weakness in ot~r faith life is that it remains too invisible, known only to God in that vertical I-Thou relationship. Fraternity enables that vertical relationship to touch the horizontal life where Christ must be made visible. In nay own experience, the first effect of fraternity is to help me in fidelity. "How often have I seen myself in a mirror and walked away, forgetting what manner of man I am." The common sin of good religious is non-response to grace. It is not a matter of being bad priests or sisters, but it is plateat~ing year after year in a slowly contract-ing self-gravitational orbit. The grace of fraternity is to enable one to break out of that orbit and to be given that thrust which is impossible to attain alone. Size o[ Fraternity The size of a fraternity is conditioned by the psycho-logical limits of relationship. No one can relate deeply to twenty people at the same time. The group range is generally from eight to twelve persons. There may be several fraternities in the same honse. There is no com-pnlsion to belong. Fraternity does not mean a clique. It stands rather for inclt~siveness not for exchlsion. There can be both diversity and spirit of t, nity. Everyone will benefit; those not in a fraternity will belong by affinity. Growth in Fraternity Week after week one becomes aware of the effort an-other is making and the prayer he is living. Each one sees another in his strnggle and becomes aware that when he fails he is in some way allowing the others to fail. No one's faith can be lived in isolation. What one does af-fects all. Fraternity brings home with unassailable impact that we are brothers and are entrusted with ultimate responsibility for each other. I deeply know that as I go, so they go; as they go, so go I. Growth in ,'i faith com-munity is growing together in Christ through one an-other. Review o~ Life The dynamic of a fraternity is called a review of life. Every fraternity meeting is like the meeting on the road to Emmaus. Like the disciples we are "deep in conversa-÷ 4. 4. Fraternity VOLUME .30, 1971 379 4. 4. 4. E. .J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 380 tion about everything that has happened. And while they were absorbed in their serious talk and discussion, Jesus himself approached and walked along with them." Like the disciples, "the Scriptures are made plain to us" and "all that has happened" takes its right place in God's plan. "Our eyes are opened and we recognize Jesus walk-ing beside us, when he broke bread." The review of life rests on one fundamental fact: God acts through the events or at least through certain events and experiences of our life to become present to us, to manifest His love and bring us to renew and deepen our union with Him. The review of life helps us to discover the presence of Jesus and His expectations of us in all the aspects of our life. It develops our fraternal openness and brings us to a more total giving of ourselves to God. Each member becomes the responsibility of the others. It forms in us the habit of seeing everything in the light of faith and draws us to a fuller response to the will of our Father. The review of life is the reading of our weekly experi-ences in the light of the word of God. The quality of our review of life will be in real dependence on the qual-ity of our life of prayer and our familiarity with the word of God. The review of life is not an examination of conscience. It is essentially an effort to look together at our life and to what Jesns is calling us. We are tanght by our daily events and experiences if we "review" them with faith. This is why the review of life must start from precise facts drawn from our actual (lay and week. The review of life must not be thought of as just an external review of some of our duties. It must be past the state of simple exchange of ideas and must be situated at it deeper level. We must be convinced that we need the help of onr fraternity with each other even in the matter of our interior fidelity to Jesus. We cannot go alone to Him. The review of life is a searching together to discover in the light of the word of God the presence of Jesus in the facts and experiences of our daily life. The review of life is a new spiritual exercise, a way of prayer, a means of reading Scriptnre. It calls for discern-ing of spirits, it demands a re-vision of life. It is not so much an examination of conscience as it is a daily enter-ing into a fuller consciousness of Christ's presence in our life through His Word in Scripture and His Word re-fracted in the people and experiences of each day. The fraternity review of life is preceded by an hour of prayer during which each member reviews his own week or month in order to recognize how Christ has acted in him and how he has responded. Each prays for discern- ment to speak and to listen to Christ in the presence of one another. Usually it is difficult to recognize a fact of one's life, accustomed as we are to speak of ideas and thoughts and opinions. We are used to speaking in terms of "they," and "we," and "you." In contrast, the review of life is in the first person singular, forcing one to confront the facts and habits of one's daily life. One can always be more objective about others than about oneself. The review of life comes no more easily than deep self-knowledge. It is a slow and stumbling process with no step-by-step guide. In every review of life, every fra-ternity is the uniqueness of its members. Life growth and personal growth are rarely obvious. In" Patd's Epistles we can discover how often they become a review of life. Dynamics of the Review As a general rule, a review of life begins with each one expressing a particular fact of one's week: "I feel I have been neglecting personal prayer." "I'm avoiding this per-son." "I have a new understanding of forgiveness through this happening this week." Or one might ask a question: "What made this week for yon? . What do you feel you are to share? . What of your week brought a new light on"the Gospel or what demands were made on you?" "What decisions are you facing? . How are yon following throngla on your commitments?" In these ways, we come to each other with our needs, sharing our bread and ask-ing for bread. We gradually come to ask one another: "Teach me your prayer, your fidelity, your poverty, your love." "Share with me your Jesus." In some meetings there might not beany clear experience or grace to share at any one particular review of life. One might not be ready to express what is developing or happening. No one is to feel any pressure to share. No one responds to what another has said except at the invitation of that person. In essence, then, a review of life is primarily a prayer experience, an experience of Jesus and of oneself before Him and in Him. As we have said, no fraternity with one another is possible unless it is rooted in fraternity with Jesus. 0nly through His presence can we enter into deeper presence of one another. In the review, we ask Jesus to help us to discern His presence in ns, to reveal what He is calling us to and how to share Him with the fraternity. New levels of faith and charity emerge. A new sense of His presence is recognized in the way others ex-press what it is for them to be with Jesus. One learns to discern what the Word is saying in this situation and to be sensitive to the Word. Since fraternity means rever-ence, a deep reverence for the mystery and secret that an-÷ ÷ ÷ Fraternity VOLUME 30, 1971 381 + .I. + E. J. Farreli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 389 other person is and who it is that is at work in each; psy-chological or moralistic probing has no place.in the re-view of life. Each person is respected for the inner rhythm of this life in the Spirit. No one may decide: "This is the hour. Now is the moment of grace," or "I have the an-swer to your problena." Although we are called to be min-isters of grace to each other, it cannot come precipitonsly, brashly, or insensitively, it is a beautifnl experience to watch the unfolding of the unknown grace in each other as we search together to li~,e our life according to the gospel. It is important to "call" one another, to hear an-other's expectation of me and for them to hear my ex-pectation of them, their need of nle and mine of them. In many ways the fraternity review of life is a living out, an actualization of the sacramental reality of the Eucharist and penance. The effects of the Eucharist is to bond us to one another to enable us to hear Jesus deep within us always uttering His transforming words over each person in every situation of our life: "This is nay body; This is my blood." The presence of Jesus in ns makes us "an altogether new creature" (Gal 6:16). He enables us in a new way to relate to others. His presence enables us to experience a new presence in others ". that each part may be equally concerned for all the others. If one part is hurt, all parts are hurt with it. If one part is given special honor, all parts enjoy it. Now you together are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it" (1 Cor 12:26-7). "If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work accord-ing to its function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love" (Eph 4: 15-6). Eucharist, the fraternity with Jesus, creates our capac-ity for fraternity with one another. He alone can free us from our inability to love as He loves ns. Fraternity is the environment for penance, the sacrament o~ reconcil-iation, to reach a new fullness. For so long a time Encha-fist and penance have been contracted to the private individual sphere of I and Thou. So little of these sacra-ments is corporately and communally experienced. These sacraments give us power but rarely do we find an en-vironment to actualize His grace in us for others. Many have left religious life and the priesthood not so much because they have been hurt by the community hut be-cause they have not been healed. The hungry continue to be sent away empty. Fraternity means healing, it is for giving--forgiving. We discover that we have a power in Christ to forgive sin, the offense against us. It is a real power, just as we have the power to bless, because of the reality of Christ's presence in us. We have real power even though it is not the sacerdotal power of absolution, a forgiveness through the power of understanding and compassion. We are peacemakers and joybringers because we express visibly Christ's p(rson and Christ's forgiveness in love. Fraternity and review of life is a risk. It is as dangerous as prayer--one never knows where He will lead. Fra-ternity and review of life are contemporary ways of re-sponding to His Word: "By tliis love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples" (Jo 13:15). His words of judgment cannot but haunt us: "1 know all about you: how you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth . I am the one who reproves and disciplines all those he loves: so repent in real earnest. Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal side by side with him . If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches!" (Rev 3:15-22). Fraternity VOLUME 30, 197! 383 PAUL M. BOYLE, C.P. Small Community Experiences ÷ ÷ Paul Boyle, C.P., president of the Conference of Ma-jor Superiors of Men, lives at 5700 North Harlem Ave-nue; Chicago, Illi-nois 60631. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 384 As part of the renewal process initiated by the recent Vatican Council many religious institutes are trying new styles of communal life. It is difficult to characterize these new approaches to life in community. They have received a variety of names in various institutes, such as Experi-mental Communities, Small Community Living, Apart-ment- Style Living, Yet none of these denominations des-ignates those elements which are common to the new approaches. The word "small" comes closest, perhaps, but it is a very relative term. Whatever their common characteristics, it is clear that these new approaches to community living are wide-spread. The Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men (CMSM) thought it would be well to ~valuate some of these endeavors. A series of six workshops was arranged in different parts of the country. About 30 major superi-ors were invited to each workshop, half men and half women, plus ten resource persons. Generally between 30 and 35 persons participated in each workshop. Many of the major superiors invited had personally participated in these small community experiences. Prior to each workshop the participants received papers describing, very briefly, one new approach to community living in each of the religious institutes represented. Some of these endeavors had already ended in failure. Others were floundering. Some were flourishing. Originally the workshops were entitled "Experiments in Small Community Living." However, the word "exper-iment" was quickly dropped both because it was mislead-ing and because it was apparent that small communities were here to stay. They were no longer considered an experiment, even though the particular mode or style in which this specific small group expressed itself was open to revision. The small size of communities was not precisely the point of consideration either. The participants were stud- ying a significantly new style of community life in small groups. Any common characteristics or integral elements constitutive of this new style could best be learned from the observable data at band. Eventnally the workshop members drew the conclusion that much more than a new style of life was under consideration. It was a differ-ent Christian culture, a different spirituality. The two styles of life in religious communities were expressive of two divergent views of the Christian life. The workshops made no effort to propose specnlative solutions. The approach was an entirely existential one. Current projects on new styles of small community living were studied and discnssed. Information was exchanged and experiences were studied and analyzed. Certain ten-tative conclusions seemed to emerge. Through the days of the workshop the participants attempted to discover common elements in these various efforts. When experiments failed, were there any recur-ring components which contribnted to this lack of suc-cess? Could we discover any factors which angnred well for the success of an endeavor? Where these projects have perdured, have they made any significant contribution to religious life? The workshops were, in other words, attempting to do three things: 1. Evaluate the sti'engths and weaknesses of current programs in small community living. 2. Discover any features to foster in attempting future projects. 3. Discover any features to avoid in initiating further such efforts. As a resnlt of this sharing it was felt there may be some nseful information instructive for the planning phases in preparation for such projects. Obviously an evalnation demands some basis of com-parison. Generally speaking these assumptions were not clearly articulated although they can be gleaned from the discussions. One assumption was clearly stated. Groups which have separated from their religious institute were considere'd failures in respect to their forming a vital part of the parent organization. Hence there was no effort in the sessions to study subseqnent developments within such groups. Indeed it seems that few of them survived their separation from the parent religions organization. It might be well to indicate, briefly, the other norms nsed for evaluation. As mentioned, these were not explic-itly enumerated bnt they were the recurring points under consideration. + 4- 4- Small Communities 1. Personal maturity. Does this style of life promote growth in VOLUME 30, 1971 maturity? 2. Interpersonal relationships. Are the personal relationships 385 "4- "4- ,4. Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 supportive in these communities? Are there clear manifesta-tions of love, trust, and respect? 3. Evangelical counsels. Does this project provide a believable manner of living out one's commitment ;to the evangelical cou nsels? 4. Prayer. Does the individual and communal witness to a life of prayer deepen in communities free to determine their own norms and forms for prayer? 5. Fiscal responsibility. Do such practices as community plan-ning of communal budgets and personal management of funds contribute to fiscal responsibility? 6. Apostolate. Is apostolic ;~ctivity fostered by these renewal efforts? 7. Corporate commitment. Do the individuals and groups find their interest in the larger parent organization is strength-ened or, perhaps, attenuated? Possibly because a nmnber of the superiors ltad been through some very painful experiences, the sessions began by considering the negative aspects of these new styles of life. Then the group brainstormed the positive values of these small groups. Positive and negative elements were then gathered into areas of similarity and discussed at length. Negative Aspects The participants were painfully aware of a host of problems connected with these new approaches to com- ~non life. A number of the areas, however, were quickly seen to be tensions common to other forms of community life also. These problems bad simply been highlighted by the experiment. After some consideration other problems were recognized as not so much connected with this man-ner of life as with the method by which Stlcb projects were initiated or with the people who participated in them. Other difficulties, however, were intimately con-nected with the style of life itself. GOALS AND EVALUATION An often repeated mistake was lack of clear planning. The goals of the project were not enunciated explicitly. Neither the participan(s nor the institute bad anything clear against which to evalnate the program. The mem-bers of the group bad no framework within wtiicb to locate themselves. Often the experimenters were ktealists or visionaries wbo eschewed the mundane realities of goals and organization. A recent study~ of 50 commnnes (30 from the 19th century and 20 contemporary ones) shows some remarka-ble similarities between those of the past and the present. The stndy cites one of the constants by quoting a mem-ber of one current failure: We weren't ready to define who we were; we certainly Psychology Today, July 1970, p. 78. weren't prepared to define who we weren't--it was still just a matter of intuition. We had come together for various rea-sons- not overtly for a common idea or ideal . The differ-ent people managed to work together side by side for awhile, but there really was no shared vision. INITIATED FROM ABOVE Small groups which were regarded as a project of the total religious community fared quite well. The more closely the members of the small group were united with the other religious in the congregation, the better was their chance of success. Sm~tll groups which were alien-ated from the larger parent group had a poor survival rate. Indeed this factor of alienation was probably tlie most constant indicator of failure. Projects which were initiated by decree of the chapter or decision of the administration seem to have been re-garded as a project of the full community. Rarely was there alienation from the parent group. Conversely where these projects were initiated as a result of pressures from those who wished to begin such a small group, almost every one of them dissolved within two years. There were many explanations offered for this fact. Probably the real-ity is as diverse as the persons involved. But the fact remains and is something to be seriously considered. SIZE OF GROUP All recognized that the size of the group was an impor-tant ingredient for the success of a ventnre. Yet experi-ence compelled the members to conclude that there were no absolutes in this matter. For a wide variety of reasons groups consisting of less than five had little success. With some exceptions communities smaller than five disbanded after one or two years. Most members of the workshop thought that groups with more than 10 or 11 merabers Wotlld be too large to attain the goals of this new s~,le of community life. However, they recognized that tl,ey were not speaking from extensive experience. The vast major-ity of the successful small groups consisted of from five to nine religious. There were a few institutes with new styles of community life where the membership was a bit larger than this. Yet the consensus seemed to be that, generally speaking, the best chance for success is in a group from five to nine persons. MEMBERSHIP Perhaps one of the biggest surprises came when the qualities of the membership in these small groups was considered. Were the members of successful groups in similar age brackets, of similar tastes and interests? Or did the membership span the spectrum of age and experi-ence? ÷ ÷ ÷ Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 387 Few, indeed, were the homogeneous groupings which survived. Many of the participants in the workshops reg-istered their surprise at this fact. Some interesting specu-lation developed in an effort to explore the reasons, but it is sufficient here to record the phenomenon. On the other hand it would not be correct to say that the small gronps were so heterogeneous that they in-cluded each element in the institute. One essential quality for inelnbership was a willingness to dialog. Granting that and the minilnal maturity re-ferred to above, the presence of diverse age groups and attitudes seems to be a very healthy ingredient. HORARIUM Another frequently mentioned problem was schedul-ing. Small groups fonnd it difficult to get together for community prayers, discussions, and recreation. It was believed that the problem was the same in larger group-ings but its harmful effect was not felt as keenly. Yet, after a period of time, the small groups were able to make suitable adjustments in their schedules. Recogniz-ing the need and value of being together at certain times, they accepted the implied limitations imposed upon their choice of other benefits and valnes. Positive Values The workshops devoted the major portion of their time to the positive values evidenced by this new style of community life. Here the participants discovered some-thing which led them to conclude that this style of life would be normative for apostolic communities of the fu-ture. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~88 INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS This was the most common goal desired by those enter-ing these projects. They wanted to establish an atmos-phere which would foste]- close personal relationships. It was their belief that thi~, in turn, would give a basis for an enriched relationship with Christ. Many religious began these small community projects with unreal expectations. They believed that they could establish a primary relationship with each member of the community. Moreover, it seems they considered these close interpersonal communities a panacea for all the problems of life. One of the significant factors in the faihlre of early efforts was that the participants were frequently imma-ture. Perhaps they were idealists who needed the support of people able to cope with the daily realities of life. Some found the increased demand for personal responsi-bility in small communities too much for them. They longed for the benefits of community but were unable to pay the price demanded. Yet the majority of the religious seem to have found that their experience in the new groupings deeply enriched their lives. They have formed close, personal friendships. It was interesting to note that an increase of personal responsibility was experienced in these new styles of life. Not every religious will thrive in such small ~roups. Some people, for instance, find such satisfaction in their work that they do not need th~ support of interpersonal relations at home. Religious life, for them, is more func-tional than personal. They are religious to perform an apostolic work and the institute exists to facilitate this work. In and through the structures of the institute, moreover, they find that incentive to sanctity which helps them perform their work in a way befitting a consecrated Christian. A growing number of religious, however, need or desire a different kind of relationship in community. An active and persistent striving to realize the opportunities for full development of each person in the small group must be one of the expectations of persons participating in these programs. A certain acceptable level of matnrity is a pre-requisite. In and through these small communities many reli-gious have come to a deeper self-awareness. This has ena-bled them to develop their potential and reach a satisfy-ing level of maturity. Small group living, for reasonably mature people, can clearly contribute to personal growth. Obviously there are tensions and problems experienced in the small communities. One of the most important was the lack of privacy. There was a great need for personal privacy, for places or periods o[ quiet so that a person could be by bi~nself. Too much "togetherness" was harm-rid. Physical and psychic privacy were prerequisites for successful interpersonal community. PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY One of the common characteristics of these groups was their mutual sharing of community responsibilities. Al-though the name was rarely used, in a number of in-stances there was a superior. Yet the role of the superigr was seen as significantly different from that of the tradi-tional decision-maker. The majority of these small groups, however, were without any designated superior. Nor did it seem correct to assert that one person usually emerged as the de facto leader in the group. Initially the groups generally began by discnssing all decisions to be made. After a while, however, routine decisions were del-egated to varions persons with a periodic review by the group of the manner in which these may have affected ÷ -I- -I-Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 389 the community. Harmoni6us community living required a clear delineation of rights and responsibilities spelled out tbrougll months of dialog. There were regular sessions to evaluate their progress in attaining the goals, to consider the policies determined by the group as well as the administrative decision by way of implementation. Conflicts and tensions must be brought into the open in a continuing effort to resolve them. + + + Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 PRAYER A consideration of the various endeavors in the differ-ent institutes reveals a curious pattern in regard to prayer. When these new connnunities first started communal prayer fell off notably. In many instances the only com-munity act of worship was an occasional Eucharistic cele-bration together. At the same time the. religious were gradually experiencing a deeper faith orientation to their life. Through their community discussions they were coming to an awareness of tile place of a living faith in their lives. In a new way they were becoming conscious of the workings of the Holy Spirit. They were experiencing tile faith as a dynamic force in their lives. Then, after many months, something marvelous began to develop. Communities began searching for new forms of communal prayer. Frequent dialog prayer, sharing re-flections on the Scriptures, personal petitions addressed to God, hymns and psalnas of praise, all of these started evolving around the flow of daily life. This is something still very such in tile developmental stage in most com-munities, but it is one of the more exciting prospects. A deep desire for prayer is vibrant in these small communi-ties. Eager and earnest efforts are beingmade to achieve a life of prayer which fits comfortably into the patterns of life of the individual conmaunities. An interesting contrast kept recurring between the quality of these prayer experiences and the relative infre-quency and comparative brevity of these communal pray-ers. The Eucharist is often celebrated with other sectors of the larger community, the parish or the religious institute or work groups. But regular and informal celebrations in tile local community, frequently quite protracted through additional readings and shared reflections, are highlights in their prayer life and cherished experiences. APOSTOLATE Taking the term "apostolate" as the kind of service performed by the religious, s.nall group living does not seem to have any particnlar bearing on the apostolate. Considering the apostolate in a broader sense, however, as meaning the mission of religious to bear witness to the world, these new approaches in small group living have ,;ome significant developments. For one thing, unlike the typical monastery or convent, these residences are a normal part of the neighborhood in both location and appearance. The physical facilities .;,~em to help establish a rapport with the local citizenry. Religious in these groups generally establish bonds of friendship with their neighbors and participate in the parochial and civic life of the neighborhood. Frequently, they evidence deep concern [or the social problems of the areas. As the summary from one of these workshops stated: An important test of this quiet witness is whether those around them come to know them as alert, compassionate reli-gious people who have a genuine concern for others. This will depend on whether their style of life speaks quietly to those caught up in an acquisitive and competitive society. It will also depend on the degree they can in proper time and place realize reciprocal influence with their neighbors in the areas o~ spiritual and moral insight or support. In each workshop there were a number of other wflues and dangers, but the above represent the recurring ones which were considered significant. Despite some bad be-ginnings the new style of community life is flourishing. It provides the atmosphere for some wonderful experiences. The experience of those in these new groups and their major superiors strongly suggests the conclusion that this style of life will be normative for the future. + ÷ + Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 39] THOMAS H. GREEN, S.J. The House of Prayer: Some Reflections Based on an Experiment Thomas H. Green, S.J., is a faculty member of San Jose Major Seminary; Box 4475; Manila, Phil-ippines. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 392 1. The Need and Conventional Forms of Meeting It The idea of a house of prayer for apostolic religious is a very new one in the Church.t But the fundamental spirit is that of Christ Himself who both taught and exemplified the need for the apostle to "come aside and rest a while."'-' The rest which the Lord gave to His disciples and which He sought Himself was the recreative rest of time and space to truly encounter God. To rest in this way involved many things: the opportunity to get enough distance from apostolic involvement so that the disciples could understand the real meaning of what had happened to them; the chance to "return to the sources" and to deepen their reflective understanding of all that the Lord had previously taught them; the oppoi'tnnity to consolidate their own lives and thus to be open to future growth. They had to learn a lesson that is very important in our time--that certain kinds of devils are driven out only by prayer and fasting, that is, by the quality of the inner life of the exorcist, and not by any techniques or devices of his trade,s That first missionary journey, where they learned the possibilities of God's word in them, appears to have been an essential part of their formation. x For an early statement of the idea, see the article on the subject by Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., in REwv.w fOR R~L~CaOUS, September, I967. The early history of the house of prayer movement is sum-marized in Exploring Inner Space by Sister Ann Chester and Brother David, 1970, pp. 8-11. '-'Mk 6:30--4; Lk 9:10; see also Mk 6:46; Lk 6:12; 11:1; Jn 7:53. ~ Mk 9:29. But it was to prove a source of growth instead of despair only on the condition that they returned to the Lord to share with Him, in leisure, their successes and failures, and to learn from Him the true meaning of both. In this work, above all, what the apostle is counts far more than what lie says or does. Saint Paul, the greatest of apostles, was fully aware of this need.4 And, if we are to judge from his own mis-sionary life, the alternation of apostolate and reflective integration is a continual process as long as the apostle lives. Throughout her history, the Church has continued to realize this need. And the Holy Spirit has inspired her to provide various means for meeting it. The idea of daily periods of mental prayer has long been stressed in apostolic commnnities. Moreover, in recent centuries, an annual retreat has been a central spiritual feature of these communities. Finally, many communities have seen the need for a tertianship or "third probation" (postulancy and novitiate being the first two probations) to solidify and confirm the mature interiority of the apostle. All these ideas have proven valuable; but each of them has its limitations today. Perhaps a consideration of these limita-tions will help to snggest why a new instrument of apos-tolic maturity has appeared in our time. The oldest and most basic of means to interior depth is the daily mental prayer of the apostle. It remains a central featnre in any true instrumental union with God. But there are two kinds of difficulties which modern man en-counters. The first is the difficulty of discerning the spirits at work in the soul at prayer--of interpreting prop-erly what God is or is not doing. This has always been a problem, and it led St. John of the Cross, among many others, to insist upon the paramount importance of a good director."~ Such direction is hard to come by, however, and few souls seek until they find it. More often they grow un-certainly, and all too often they read the interior signs wrongly and take for failnre what is really growth. At this point a second, and more distinctively modern, difficulty enters. We live in a higly complex and intensely paced age. The apostle is a child of his times. As a result, he often finds his work occupying most of his energy and attention, even at times which he has kept "free" for prayer. The regular and measured pace of early monasti-cism where the fulfillment of the command "labora" distributed itself evenly and naturally over the days and seasons of the year is but a celestial dream for many mod-ern apostles. The result of these two difficulties combined ~ For an excellent resum~ of the Pauline teaching on prayer, see Romans, Chapter 8, footnote "'o" in the Jerusalem Bible. ~ Living Flame o[ Love, III, 26-53; see also St. Teresa, Interior Castle, pp. 50, 53, 68, and passim in the Image Book edition. 4- Prayer House VOLUME :~0, 1971 393 4. 4. 4. T. H. Green, S. J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 394 is frequently a mystique of work: Good souls despair of ever truly finding God in this life, and they decide, in effect, to lose themselves in their work for God, post-poning nntil eternity any genuine encounter with the Reason for their work. Two of the interior giants of our time, Karl Rahner and Caryl Houselander, have written movingly abont the holy wrongness of this decision.6 Prayer becomes a repetition of canonized formulas and resolutions, combined perhaps with a vagne unease that there should be more. The second means to interior depth, the annual re-treat, has arisen precisely as a response to the need, felt by members of apostolic communities, for periods of as-sessment and consolidation. The apostle cannot give what he dqes not have. The retreat is a chance to come aside and rest a while, and many find it an invalnable part of the year. Like the Biblical Sabbath rest, one of its natural (but not to be despised) fruits is physical rest. For many apostles, it has become the only real vacation they take in the year. And often they find that, rested, they can indeed pray fruitfully. The retreat, however, is very short: in some counnunities, three days; in others, six or eight. And everywhere the tendency is toward shortening it. Partly because retreats have become very impersonal en-counters between one retreat director and a very large group of retreatants. This results, often enongh, in a re-treat which is strongly moralistic, focusing on practical resolutions and planning'for the year, rather than on the "present deep experience of God which should be central to the retreat,v The physical sitnation makes adaptation to the personal needs and situation of the retreatant vir-tually impossible. Another reason why retreats are losing their vitality is the professionalism which characterizes so much of our work, and the failnre of the retreat struc-ture to provide that distance from our daily concerns, along with a real sense of direction in the retreat itself, which will challenge the modern man to seek and find a maturity in Iris prayer commensurate with his profes-sional maturity. The third traditional means to interior depth is the "tertianship" or third probation of many religious com-munities. Similar to this is the summer of renewal which some communities of sisters make available to their mem-bers, perhaps 25 years after profession. This is a true at- ~ K. Rahner, On Prayer, pp. 7-9; C. Houselander, This War Is the Passion, pp. 33-5. ~ This question of the proper purpose of a retreat has been much discussed in recent years. In an Ignatian context (and, I believe, even more generally), the remarks of Wm. Peters, S.J. (The Spirilual Exercises o~ St. Ignatius: Exposition and Interpretation, pp. 4-9) are very helpful. tempt to enable the religious to update themselves theo-logically, but it is even more what St. Ignatius calls a "schola affectus," 8 a chance for the heart to renew its commitment to God and to make new again that love which alone justified "leaving all things" in the first place. There is the time to settle down and to live deeply --something a retreat scarcely affords. There is the dis-tance from routine worries and preoccupations which even the most mature souls rarely find in their daily lives. And indeed, the house of prayek concept has much in common with the tertiansbip or summer of renewal. Too often, however, these familiar opportunities for renewal come only at a fixed and (,niform time in the life of religious, and the interval of renewal is uniform for all. Moreover, in these times when the communal character of our Christian and religious life is highly valued, there is often little community continuity to these forms. That is, the only principles of continuity from one renewal group to the next are the director (or directress) of the house and, perhaps, the instructional staff. There are, it is trne, customs and traditions which the director will commt, nicate verbally to each new group, but each has virtually to create from scratch that sense of Christian community which is integral to any post-Vatican II re-newal. 2. The Evolution o[ One New Response The house of prayer idea, then, is a recent proposal for meeting,an ancient religious need. One of the earliest and most eloquent advocates of'such houses is Father Bernard H~iring. And the importance which he attaches to the idea may be gathered from the fact that he has been known to say that this may be the most important work of his life. The idea of houses of prayer, though, has not always been as dearly defined as this may suggest. That is, many people have felt the lack of genuine leisure and of interi-ority, as well as of the freedom to respond to the apostolic "sacrament of the present moment," in modern religious structures. But the views as to how to remedy this lack have been almost as numerous as those who have felt it. I was a participant in early discussions at the University of Notre Dame in 1966-67, in which perhaps twenty sis-ter graduate students from as many different communi-ties took part)) At tbat time, we were in close agreement on the need for greater interiority and leisure, but we were far from agreed as to the forms necessary to meet this need. As the group began to establish contact with other like-a lgnatius Loyola, Constitutions o] the Society o] Jesus, n. 516. See the article cited in footnote 1 for the results of these dis- CL1ssiolls. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ T. H. Green, S. ]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 minded religious, and to carry the idea back to their own communities, the possible forms gradually began to crystalize. While my own personal obligations1° prechtded close contact with the developing "movement," I followed indirectly but with great interest the emergence of the IHM Clearing Center in Monroe, Michigan, the various intercommunity conversations (and the involvement of such distinguished advisors as Thomas Merton), and the varions summer experiments in house-of-prayer living which were undertaken. But I felt, particularly when I returned to the Philippines in June of 1969, that my own involvement in the movement was at an end. I was mistaken. Through a series of those accidents and coincidences by which providence so often works, I soon found myself involved in an experimental house of prayer conducted by the Philippine province of the Sisters of Saint Paul of Chartres. The experiment has some inter-national importance, for the provincial superior of the St. Paul Sisters secured approval for it with a view to re-porting on the results at the community's next general chapter in 1971. If successful, it conld be extended to other provinces. At any rate, our experiment began full-time operation at a remote and beautifnlly situated mountain house in the northern Philippines.~ The two sisters with whom I had worked in planning the experi-ment during the preceding six months were then joined by two others, for a core group of four. Our house is called "The Home of the Spirit of God," since that seemed to express best wlmt we hope it will be. 3. Complementary but Diverse Options This brief historical excursus was necessary for two reasons. In the first place, the honse of prayer idea is one that has taken shape gradnally and experientially. We did not have a fully articulated concept of what was needed. Indeed, I at least have long believed that it was necessary to stop planning and start living the house of prayer. I felt that we could only learn the problems and possibil-ities- more deeply, that we could only learn whether and where the Spirit of God was leading ns--i[ we gave Him the time and the space to show us.v' Secondly, the living out of our experiment, within the matrix of concrete pos-sibilities afforded us by obedience and circumstance, has ~o First in writing a doctoral dissertation, anti then in pursuing postdoctoral studies at Cornell University aXAt Mount Pico in Trinidad Valley, about 6 kilometers from Baguio City. = For a further discussion of this delicate balance between plan-ning and living, sec Exploring Inner Space, pp. 79-81, 96-7, 111-2. shaped our understanding of God's design for this house of prayer. As I look back on the Notre Dame conversations in the .light of our Philippine experience, it seems to me that there are two basic options open to the house of prayer movement. The first is to establish centers of apostolic availability, for example in the inner city, where religious would be freed from tile institutional demands of our highly structured works and could offer to the people a flexible and prayerful community response to their actual present needs. This less structured type of Christian witness certainly appears to be an essential feature of the post-Vatican II Church. In fact, such a witness will un-doubtedly be a touchstone of the adaptability and rele-vance of the contemporary Church. But this type of experiment will not, by itself,'meet the needs of modern religious--particularly the need [or in-terior growth of which we spoke in the earlier part of the paper. It seems utopian to expect that we could abandon our structured works in the foreseeable future, or that a majority of our apostolic religious could be committed to free-form apostolates in this age of increasing profes-sionalism. And even if these goals could be realized, an elementary knowledge of human nature suggests that these new forms of witness would progressively take on structures of their own. More deeply, however, flexible response by itself would not guarantee mature interiority or the putting on of Christ. Thus there is a second option open to the house of prayer movement--one whose direct finality would be to provide apostolic religious with the . opportunity for full interior 'growth.-It-is this-type of. house of prayer which the Spirit appears to be forming here in the Philippines. Such a house would have as its aim providing a con-temporary response to the needs discussed in the earlier part of this article. It would complement the daily periods of prayer, and the annual retreat, of the apostolic religious. This means that it should provide the leisure and the spiritual direction necessary to read the signs of interior growth correctly, and to avoid that mystique of work which threatens to rob dedicated souls of the perspective described by our Lord in the Last Supper discourse. Moreover, it should provide a much more realistic op-portunity than does tile group annual retreat for apostles to personalize their experience of God and to deepen the sense of the utter uniqueness of their vocation. In this way, an interior maturity commensurate with our pro-fessional maturity would be fostered: a development which would resolve many of our contemporary "identity Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 397 crises," and consequently equip us much better to speak the healing word to modern man.1:~ Perhaps the most fruitfid way to conceive this type ot~ house of prayer is as a sort of "floating tertiansbip." That is, it would be a true "schola at~ectus" for people experi-enced in the apostolate and well aware of the difficulty of achieving true spiritual maturity. But it would be avail-able to them when they themselves felt the need for it. Moreover, it would be a continuing community--with a core group providing the continuity--whose whole apos-tolic function would be to provide a climate of peace and prayer and joy into which others could easily enter for that period of time (whether a summer or a semester or a year) which seems best to them. Since this seems to be the type of house of prayer taking shape among us here, per-haps a Jew preliminary experiential comments are in order.1~ 4- 4- 4- 4. Some Reflections Based on Experience The question of the location o[ houses of prayer was much discussed in tile Notre Dame conversations. In the light of our experience, I believe the location shonld be a function of the type of house of prayer envisioned. For our type, whose apostolate is directed to the active reli-gious themselves and which is geared primarily to people coming for a lengthy stay, the best location would be that which best meets their needs and desires--that is, one sufficiently removed from their daily concerns to sacra-mentalize their coming aside to rest a while. At the same time, however, an important part of their growth will be their continuing education. St. Teresa of Avila wisely mistrusted a deliberately ignorant piety. For this reason (unless the core members themselves can provide classes, especially in Scripture and spiritual theology), the house should be near a sister-formation center or a university with a good theology program. The question of continuing education brings us to the broader question of the program of the house of prayer. Since the whole reason for the existence o~ snch a house is to provide tile leisure to hear God, it is clear that the program should be so arranged that whatever is done, especially the liturgy and other forms o~ communal and private prayer, can be done deeply and well. At tile same time, if there is not a common and reasonably busy rhythm to the day, leisure can easily deteriorate into mere idleness; our hearing God can become a mere intro- T. 11. Green, $. ~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 a'~ For moving evidence of the liberative and maturing influence of actual house of prayer experiments, see the reports in Exploring In-ner Space, pp. 40-75. ~ A basically (but not totally) similar idea of the house of prayer is found in Exploring Inner Space, pp. 12-4. spective analysis of ourselves,is ~Ve have tried, gradually and as experience dictated, to articulate a program which provides for daily private prayer (1~/2 hours), study re-lated to prayer (2 hours), classes in conjunction with a neighboring formation program (from 2 to 6 hours a week depending upon the interests and aptitudes of the individual sisters), and work--in addition to the litnrgy antl an adapted form of the Divine Office with which we are experimenting. In addition, the sisters have agreed upon assigned days for receiving guests and inquirers and for handling the small shop which helps to support the house. (The mountain peoples are expert weavers, and locally woven cloth is the principal object for sale.) Various other activities, such as catechetical work in the neighborhood and a coffee hour for the people after Sunday Mass, have arisen naturally. But perhaps enough has been said to indicate the general program of the house. As far as possible we try to work out the details of living communally in the light of experience. One detail which has evoked a uniformly enthusiastic response is an hour in the evening devoted to "creative leisure," a somewhat pretentious title for a time "to do those things you have always wanted to do, but for which you have never had the time." The results have been wonderful in their variety: so much so that the adviser is developing a sense of cultnral inferiority! Thus far the experiment has been enthusiastically re-ceived by the core members and the guest members. The latter have been relatively few until now since we have tried to give the core group an opportunity to get to know one another and to establish the spirit of the house. But there appears to be considerable interest, both among the St. Paul Sisters and among other religious com-munities in the Philippines. Sevkra( of the latter have sent representatives to inquire about our project, anti also to participate in the life--sometimes with a view to establishing similar honses,t~ And within the year we hope to hold an intercommnnity retreat in the house of prayer itself. a~ As Exploring Inner Space makes clear, this was not a problem iu the shorter summer experiments there reported o,~. But we have recognized the danger in a continuing house of prayer; that the danger is real for any small community is suggested by the remarks of Brother Gabriel Moran in his recent book, The New Community, pp. 58-62. He refers to "the uarcissistic obsession with the experi-ence of commu,fity," and quotes with approval Father Henri Nouwen's "spoiled child" analogy. Our experience would tend to confirm these obser\'ations. ~6 The question is ofteu asked whether houses of prayer should be intercommunity or intracommunity. The a,~swer is unclear to me, but experience does suggest that an intracommunity begimting has definite practical advantages in terms of common background, com-munity support, and so forth. + 4- + Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 399 + + T. H. Green, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A final question may be raised: What qualities should be sought in a member of the house of prayer? Guest members (those there for a temporary period) should, we believe~ be mature women, experienced in and dedicated to the apostolate of their community, who have felt the need and expressed the desire for greater interior growth. The house would not normally be for those in, or newly out of, formation. Nor, it goes without saying, should it be a last stopping-off point for those preparing to leave religious life. Some, it is true, will come to the house of prayer with questions about the real relevance of many of our contemporary structures (particularly our mystique of work), but they should be anxious to find the answers within the context of their fimdamental religious com-mitment. The core members should possess all these qualities and should also have a genuine desire to make this house their apostolate. Sound emotional and psychological bal-ance should be especially sought for, since they are to be "bridge people" committed both to a continual openness to the experience of God (a more difficult task than any of the exterior works we undertake) and to the sharing of their search with others. Since community appears to be a central feature of our evolving experiment, they should also be adaptable people, and chosen with a view to the general compatibility of the particular core group in question. Beyond this, it seems very desirable to have a healthy diversity of talents and personalities. For example, it would be ideal to have in the core group a sister well trained in Scripture and another in spiritual theology, who could offer their services to the community and to guest members. But all need not be scholars, providing they are at peace in accepting their own limitations and anxious to put their own gifts at the service of the com-munity. 5. Conclusion These, then, are the reasons I see for a house of prayer, the nature of such a house, and some points of detail which our experience with one house of prayer has sug-gested. It would be wrong to imply that there have not been problems. There have been so many, and such unusual ones in fact, that I have become convinced that the Lord is doing something very important here. More-over, the very problems, and the equally unusual ways in which they have been resolved, suggest that the experi-ment must be approached with great openness and de-tachment. Since the cry for the "liberation" of woman is by no means as loud among Filipinas as among American sisters, the priest adviser can still play a more explicit and less self-conscious role here. But it is no less true here that the life style must be determined, and the problems re-solved, from within. From the outset we have sought to "hang loose" in the hands of God and to let Him lead ns wherever He wished. This has not been easy, and I am sure we have failed often. Bnt the success of our experi-ment will ultimately depend upon our learning to bang loose, particularly since the masters of the interior life all tell us that this "disponibilitd" is the ultimate achieve-ment of mature nnion with God. Our conviction that this is the reason for our existence, and our principal con-tribution to the apostolic life, is sacramentalized in onr name: The Home of the Spirit of God. + 4- + Prayer House VOLUME 30, 401 SISTER MARY JEANNE SALOIS, R. S, M. Pilot Study of xperimentation in Local Community Living Sister Jeanne is Director of Re-search Services; Sis-ters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drip, e, Box 34446; Bethesda, Maryland 20034. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Religious communities of women are experimenting with many new practices in their living together in com-munity. There is, however, a dearth of reliable and valid evaluation of this experimentation, largely because it is difficult to assess outcomes so subjective in nature. The study reported here was made in a large religious congre-gation (545 local houses) to (1) identify the new practices being implemented and the ends which these practices were to promote, and (2) assess the attitudes of sisters re-garding the effects of this implementation. Procedure: The 73 local conamunities participating in this study were volunteers who agreed (1) to construct ;t plan for local community living for the year, 1969-1970, which would include goals, a plan of action, and meth-ods of evaluation, and (2) to complete an Attitude Scale to be administered to all participants at the close of the year. The investigator visited each local community in the study to: 1. develop the basic assumptions for the study with the lo-cal group in keeping with the new practices they were imple-menting and the ends they hoped to achieve. 2. interview a random sampling of one-fifth of the sisters to obtain an oral expression of opinion regarding the results of changes in government, prayer life, and temporalities. 3. obtain the information necessary for an accurate descrip-tion of the living situation. Treatment of the Data: The Attitude Scale entitled "Scale to Evaluate Sisters' Attitndes Toward Experimen-t; tl Practices in Local Community Living" was sent to 73 local houses totaling 875 sisters. Four hundred and seventy (54 percent) responded, representing the follow- ing cross section of sisters: TABLE I Distribution of Sisters Responding to Attitude Scale Sisters in Religion Over Sisters in Religion Less Sisters Giving No Indica- 25 Years than 25 Years lion of Number of Years in Religion Consensus* Coordinatort 32 155 Consensus Coordinator 70 153 Consensus Coordinator 11 49 * Local houses with government by consensus with no authority figure. "~ Local houses with elected or appointed coordinator. Thus, respondents include 113 sisters with government by consensus and 355 with ;t local coordinator. Respond-ents represent 187 sisters in religion over 25 years, 233 in religion less than 25 years, and 60 sisters who did not indi-cate the number of years in religion. The split-half reliability coefficient was obtained for this scale by correlating individnal's scores on the odd-numbered items with their scores on the even-numbered items, rising the deviation score method of computing the Pearson product-moment coefficient of correlation cor-rected by the Spearman-Brown formula. Tile obtained coefficient of equivalence for the Attitnde Scale was .85. Findings from. local plans. Goals enumerated in tile plans placed heavy emphasis on the spiritual aspects of re-ligious life. There was ~t frequently expressed concern for the psychological aspects of the person, especially for the nniqueness of the individual. The sisters also aimed at improving the apostolic dimension of religious life. The desire to witness to an authentic community of love was evident in m~tny of the goals formnlated. Some plans emphasized the elements of freedom and informality. Procedures for achieving goals inchtded variations in government: 33 houses were governed by consensus, 25 had elected coordinators, and 15 had an appointed co-ordinator. There was much participation and shared re-sponsibility in the local situation. In all personal aspects of living, sisters assumed responsibility for their own de-cisions. Daily prayers said in common varied from the usual Lauds, Vespers, and Encharistic Celebration to Grace be-fore dinner in the local community. Some innovative ap-proaches were tried to enrich the liturgy. In general, lo-cal communities fouml that unless communal prayer was strnctured as to time and place, not much communal prayer took place. Personal monthly allowances ranged from $5 to $80. Ahhough there was some variation in the items to be + 4- 4- Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 4~3 ÷ ÷ Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4O4 pnrcbased with the personal allowance, in many instances tbe same items were to be purchased with $20 in one house and $40 in another. Local comlnunities found ewdnation the most ditficult, partly becanse objectives were not sufficiently specific and they were not expressed in measurable terms. Methods nsed inchlded community discnssions, reports, question-naires, minutes of meetings, periodic assessment of goal achievelnent, and schedule of activities which took place. Findings from interviews. The investigator found much polarity, with sisters in younger, middle, and older cate-gories differing significantly in their thinking about reli-gions life. Older sisters (over 60 years of age) would like to see many things being (lone under the name of ex-perimentation discontinued. They believe that unless sisters return to former practices, soon there won't be any religions. Many middle-aged sisters (35-59) believe that the actnal growth of each sister as a resnlt of the new freedoms depends on each individual; some will profit and some will not. Younger sisters (up to 35) are happy to have the freedom which they are being given, but the grave questions concerning the purposes and values of religious life which they are asking make freedom some-what dangerous from the standpoint of actually living .the religious life. Without an understanding of the pur-poses of religions life to gnide decisions, young religions are uncertain concerning the best means to take in practi-cal situations. Older and middle-aged sisters are happy about many of the changes--participation in decisiou-making, having an allowance, being able to visit relatives more fre-quently, having the freedom to dress for the occasion-- all of these changes are considered helpful to religious living. Changes observed which do not meet the approval of these sisters include the wearing of inappropriate lay clothing, the sharing in the social life of the laity, and being free from a local antbority figure. Older sisters fear that religions are becoming worldly and that prayer life is disappearing; younger sisters [ear that there might be a division in the community and re-ligious life may have no future. Sisters of all age groups are recommending that younger sisters be given more direction and guidance, that forma-tion programs becolne more structnred. When asked their views on reasons for sisters leaving, the sisters mentioned the following reasons: 1. Some sisters don't have anything to hang on to because of inadequate training for religious life. 2. Some sisters are disillusioned with the pettiness of re-ligious life. 3. Some can't live the life and they don't know why. 4. Sisters who are leaving see no purpose in religious life. They wish to marry. 5. Some sisters don't want to become like some older reli-gious they know. Findings from Attitude Scale. Respondents completed. a Likert-type Attitude Scale in order to provide evidence in support or rejection of basic assumptions formulated by the investigator and sisters in each local community at the time of the site visit. These assumptions will be listed followed by a summary of findings from the Atti-tude Scale as completed by the sisters. 1. A basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and freedom will provide a meaningful way of living out one's commitment of obedience. Sisters were asked their understanding of the phrase "equality in Christian dig-nity and freedom" when applied to religious in a local community. Most of the sisters believe that equality in Christian dignity and freedom flows from one's common membership in the People of God with God as Father of all. 56 percent of older sisters (in religion over 25 years) believe the person designated as superior in a commu-nity represents the authority of God, whereas only 14 percent of younger sisters (in religion under 25 years) believe this. 74 percent of younger sisters believe that all sisters have equal responsibility for discerning the will of God for the group, compared to 48 percent of older sisters. 30 percent of younger sisters do not consider di-rection and correction when needed part of the role of the authority figure; 9 percent of older sisters support this view. If the concept of "equality in Christian dignity and freedom" held by the majority of younger sisters is to provide a meaningful way of living out one's commit-ment of obedience, obedience needs to be defined in terms which exclude an authority figure who represents the authority of God (70 percent do not accept this). If the vow of obedience requires that one see in the author-ity figure a representative of the authority of God, then a basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and freedom as defined by approximately 70 percent of sis-ters professed under 25 years does not provide a mean-ingful way of living out one's commitment of obedience. One item in the Attitude Scale was "The concept of equality which excludes a superior can be reconciled with the vow of obedience." 53 percent of all respondents agreed with this statement. This percentage included 47 percent of older sisters with consensus government, 30 percent with a coordinator, 97 percent of younger sisters with consensus government, and 67 percent with a co-ordinator (total of 228 sisters). 2. Opportunities to make personal decisions in an open 4- 4. 4. Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 405 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 atmosphere where adult professional roomen act as peers will promote growth in maturity as expressed by concern for the other person's welfare, sensitivity to others' needs, and a sharing of responsibility [or the welfare of the group. The group which believes most heartily that sis-ters readily assume responsibility on their own is the younger sisters with consensus government (76 percent). In the older group, only 31 percent agreed with this opin-ion. Younger sisters had the highest percentage agreeing that sensitivity to the needs of others increases as author-ity decreases (85 percent); 41 percent of the older sisters agreed with this statement. In the opinion of a majority of the sisters, added opportunities to make personal de-cisions provided during this period are promoting growth in maturity as expressed by a sensitivity to the needs of others and the assuming of responsibility for the wel-fare of the group. 3. When sisters participate in organizational planning, the amount of structure zoill vary with each community and it will be appropriate to the situation. A majority of sisters believe that organization for community living in the local house this year met the sisters' needs better than was true in the past. Highest gronp in believing this was younger sisters with consensus government (86 percent); lowest was tim older sisters with a coordinator (48 percent). Among older sisters, the schedule planned was most satisfactory to those with a coordinator; among younger sisters, the schedule planned was most satisfac-tory to those with consensus government. 4. Unity will grow as local communities accept a di-versity o[ living styles among their members, and sisters in the total province community accept diversity of living among local groups. Approximately 75 percent of older sisters believe that acceptance of diversity has much to do with promoting unity in community; over 90 per-cent of yotmger sisters believe this. Respondents were practically unanimous in their opinion that a full re-sponse to the totality of Christian revelation on the part of each sister will promote unity. Over 60 percent of older sisters consider integration of differences and bar-riers conducive to unity; only 23 percent of younger sis-ters agree with this. The great number of undecided responses to an item suggesting that identification with the goals and values of the foundress is conducive to unity (ahnost 30 percent) seems to indicate that these are not consciously functional in the lives of many sisters today. Responses to items related to assumption 4 permit the acceptance of this statement; however, these responses indicate that much more than acceptance of diversity needs to be considered in promoting unity. 5. Community will be fostered on a local level as au-thority effective in the apostolate can be kept from in- [htencing decisions and planning related to home living. Younger sisters are opposed to dual authority (70 per-cent) more than is true of older sisters (44 percent). A majority of sisters agree that authority in the apostolate when exercised in community makes living difficult. 6. A supportive, Christ-centered community attempt-ing to establish interpersonal relationships based on love, trust, and respect will redound to the benefit of the apos-tolate. Groups with consensus government in both younger and older categories were most ready to say that noth-ing had greater effect on their apostolate than their living situation. 64 percent of all sisters agreed that sisters in their local house profited from their day-to-day experi-ence in community living in .meeting the challenges of the apostolate. 7. Spirituality deepens when each sister is free to de-termine her prayer life with no specified prayers. Older and younger sisters differ greatly in their thinking on specified daily requirements in the area of prayer. 76 per-cent of older religions believe there should be specified daily requirements; 38 percent of younger religious be-lieve this. Polarity of younger and older sisters is also shown in beliefs regarding benefits of traditional forms of com-munal prayer. 47 percent of older sisters and 16 percent of younger sisters believe that traditional forms of prayer do much to promote a religious spirit among local groups. Most sisters acknowledge the need for daily personal prayer (90 percent). A majority of older sisters (56 percent) believe that when no prayers are specified, fewer and fewer prayers are said; 18 percent of the yonnger sisters believe this. The sisters are ahnost unanimous in rejecting the no-tion that discussion and/or apostolic work is an ade-quate substitute for personal prayer. The 6 percent who believe this number about 28 sisters out of 470 respond-ents in this study. In summary, sisters in religion over 25 years tend to reject assumption 7, and sisters in religion less than 25 years support it. 8. Community life deepens when local communities are free to respond to their common needs for prayer, and group members support individuals who introduce new forms of common worship. 83 percent of younger sisters with consensus govermnent and 52 percent with a co-ordinator believe that their communal prayer which flowed from the felt needs of the group was a help in ,4, .4- ar Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 407 Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 promoting community. Over half o[ the Older groups responded in a positive manner to this item. At this time when so much emphasis is placed on the commnnity-forming aspects o[ communal prayer, over 90 percent believe that communal prayer is an expres-sion o[ adoration, praise, and thanksgiving to God. While emphasizing spontaneous small intimate group-ings in prayer, sisters are continuing to emphasize the vertical dimension. Communities which introduced new [orms o[ communal prayer [onnd these condncive to a deepening of community li[e. 9. Personal management of money and cooperative planning of community budgets will promote an appre-ciation [or the value o[ money, be practical, and be conducive to a responsible use o[ material goods. The per-sonal responsibility which sisters are assuming in finan-cial affairs is making them aware o[ the cost of living. Sisters are finding the allowance (average $26 per month) practical and, in general, adequate. Many sisters are un-certain as to the effects of increased responsibility in fi-nancial matters on the practice of poverty. Some sisters find it difficult to speak in terms of poverty at all because o[ the many connotations the term has, for example, synonymous with destitution. 10. Emphasis on personal responsibility in financial a[- [airs will el]ect greater simplicity o] liIe style or more meaning[ul "ordered minimalness.'" Opinions of over hal~ of the sisters do not snpport the concept that empha-sis on personal responsibility in financial affairs will ef-fect greater simplicity o[ li[e style. The investigator sought to determine the thinking o[ the sisters on the meaning of the vow o[ poverty. A ma-jority of sisters identi~y poverty with a collective sharing of material goods, o~ availability, and o~ love for the poor. Concepts accepted by older sisters and rejected by younger groups are a "willingness to divest onesel~ o~ all things here on earth in order to obtain the riches o~ heaven," and "abandonment of oneself--sacrifice o[ com- [orts and material possessions." Both older and younger sisters agree that poverty means complete and fidl com-mitment to Christ; both groups reject the notion that poverty means dependence on superiors [or material things. 11. Diversified living will enable each sister to develop as a total person and encourage individual initiative in the use o[ her unique talents in promoting the good o[ the community. 25 percent o[ older sisters believe that total development o[ each sister was promoted by partic-ipation in a wide range o[ activities outside the primary apostolate, as compared to 75 percent o[ younger sisters with consensus government and 54 percent with a coordi-nator. In the thinking of most sisters, diversified living does promote the development of each sister and the good of the community. A majority of sisters rejected the idea that diversified living promotes individual satisfaction rather than the total good of the community. 12. Community living will improve as the sisters imple-ment the proposals in Mercy Covenant which are related to community life. Over two-thirds of the sisters indicated that there has been much implementation of Mercy Cove-nant (interim guide for the Sisters of Mercy of the Union). All groups believe that Mercy Covenant has improved community living, with the younger gronp with consensus government being the most enthusiastic (78 percent), and older sisters with a coordinator the least favorably im-pressed (41 percent). Of the groups involved, younger sisters with consensus government believed they experience(! community togeth-erness in a spirit of creativity to the greatest extent (60 percent), and older sisters with a coordinator, to the least extent (45 percent). In summary, most of the sisters in this study believe that proposals on community living have been imple-mented, and that this implementation has made a con-siderable difference in community living. 72 percent say that acceptance of others whose opinions differ from one's own is one area of improvement. 13. Problems and advantages of group living vmy with the size of the group. Nearly 70 percent of all sisters in the study think size has something to do with successful group living. Over half of the sisters prefer a group size of 7 to 12. Advantages cited for small gronps (4-9) were (1) deep and personal relationships, (2) sensitivity in dis-covering the needs of others, (3) less chance of cliques forming, (4) cohesiveness, togetherness, and a sense of belonging, (5) simplified group planning, dialog, and communication, (6) unity through an understanding and acceptance of each individnal, (7) flexible, more easily changed plans, and (8) homelike atmosphere. Disadvan-tages listed were (1) insnfficient variety in personalities for maximum growth opportunities, (2) heavy workload, (3) incompatibility of community members, (4) loneliness when one is not closely related to other members of the gronp, (5) lack of privacy, (6) individual problems affect-ing all members, and (7) demand for much cooperation from each member. Advantages of medium size groups (l 0-18) included (1) diversity in relationships, (2) adequate number available for community activities, (3) reasonable distribution of ÷ 4- ÷ Pilot Study VOLUME ~0, 1971 409 Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 work, (4) flexibility of life style and constant presence of community nucleus, (5) adequate privacy, (6) less chance of someone being left out, and (7) easy interchange of ideas. Disadvantages listed were (1) too many divisions possible in community, (2) consensus is difficult, (3) quiet people are swallowed up, (4) lack of personal concern, (5) can make for institutional living, (6) too large for total group activities, (7) too many bosses. Advantages of large groups (19-) included (1) variety of talents, activities, personalities, (2) shared responsibil-ity, (3) better apostolic coverage, (4) easier financially, (5) greater freedom, (6) uncongenial members do not dis-rupt harmony as seriously as in small group, (7) much company and companionship. Disadvantages included (1) lack of family spirit, (2) tendency to form cliques, (3) lack of personalism, (4) difficult to assemble gronp for meet-ings, (5) only a few are heard, (6) can become efficiency oriented, (7) too easy to isolate oneself from community, (8) less responsibility assumed by individuals, (9) lack of communication, (10) too much structure needed. 14. Advantages and disadvantages ol group living vary with the amount of diversity in apostolic worhs repre-sented by group members. Half of the sisters in this study see no particular advantage or disadvantage in profes-sionally diversified groups, with many sisters undecided, perhaps because they never had this experience. In order to obtain further information regarding the effects of diversity of apostolic work, self-selection, and assignment to a group on community living, the sisters were asked to cite advantages and disadvantages of these situations if they had experienced them. Results are summarized be-low. Advantages of diversity of apostolic works in the same community included (I) diversity of viewpoints and inter-ests, (2) conversation not bogged down in perpetual dis-cussion of work situation, (3) can lead to involvement in other works, (4) forced to leave undesirable problems be-hind, (5) source of enrichment, (6) encourages sharing, and (7) promotes appreciation for other's difficulties. Disadvantages included (l) difficulty in planning ac-tivities for entire group, (2) failure to understand other apostolates, (3) confidential information can be unknow-ingly disseminated, and (4) minority groups are sometimes left out of considerations. Adw~ntages of self-selected groups mentioned by re-spondents included (1) provides the satisfaction and com-fort of living with people who accept you as you are and insures a feeling of belonging to the group, (2) contributes to peace and harmony in community because of common ideals, interests, attitudes, goals, (3) increases nnity among members of the group and a sense of responsibility for each other, (4) enhances group spirituality and depth of commitment to apostolate, (5) reduces personality con-flicts and violations of charity, (6) encourages sisters to take responsibility for their own actions, (7) promotes community by size and flexibility of group, and (8) re-duces time and energy needed to adiust to one another. Disadvantages of self-selected groups included (1) group members may be disappointing, (2) can cause loss of com-munity spirit in the larger community, (3) is divisive, (4) is a means of self-gratification, (5) is an unrealistic divi-sion of age groups, (6) can be a cause of added expense, (7) is less a living on faith, less the living of witness to religious life. Advantages of assigned groups mentioned by respor~d-ents included (1) true life style with its variety of ages and temperaments, (2) challenges sisters to new heights of love and consideration for all, (3) provides opportunities for the cultivation of new friends, (4) implements the principle of "being sent" to form community of love, (5) facilitates the keeping of corporate commitments, (6) re-duces the rejection of undesirable persons. Disadwmtages of assigned groups included (1) lack of agreement its to life style with resulting conflict and lack of adjustment, (2) incompatible persons can create prob-lems, (3) unity in diversity is often lacking, (4) restdts in submissiveness and dependence, (5) work may be nnde-sirable, (6) nnhealtl~y friction is often present, (7) lack of personalis~n. One item on the Attitude Scale attempted to find out which areas in the lives of sisters shonld be governed by personal, community, or higher authority decisions. Find-ings were as follows: Areas of Decision Making a. Daily personal prayer b. Daily communal prayer c. Leisure activities within community d. Leisure activities outside community e. Primary work commitment f. Work commiunent in ad-dition to primary apos-tolate Conclusions Source of Decisions Individual (83%) Local Community (58%) Individual (31%) Local Community (29%) Individual (63%) Individual (24%) Higher Authority (20%) Individual and Higher Author-ity (18%) Individual and Higher Author-ity (26%) Individual (22%) Higher Authority (21%) All of the assumptions listed can be accepted with the exception of the four given below which need to be modi-÷ ÷ ÷ Pilot Study VOLU~E 30, 1971 fled and explained in terms used in the text of this manu-script. A basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and free-dom will provide a meaningful way of living out one's com-mitment of obedience. Advantages and disadvantages of group living vary with the amount of diversity in apostolic works represented by group members. Spirituality deepens when each sister is free to determine her prayer life with no specified prayers. Emphasis on personal responsibility in financial affairs will effect greater simplicity of life style or more meaningful "or-dered minimalness." In the opinion of the writer, an understanding of the theology of religious life and mnch dialogue on the real issues which are causing conflict are the needs of the day. Only if conflict, distrnst, and disunity can be replaced by love which can cope with various forms of outward ex-pression will religious turn the present confusion into hopefulness for the future. + + + Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 Pra.,ver as CARL STARKLOFF, s.J. "Justi cation by Faith" Although the title may not indicate it, this article will deal with prayer and activity. To explain why one should risk further cluttering the storeroom of spiritual theology with another such study, let me hasten to add that our di

Issue 30.5 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Dledertch, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw FOR I~LIOXOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 3~21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 191o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW VOR RELIC;IOUS. Published for Review for Religious at .Mr. Royal & Guilford Ave., Baltimore, Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, .Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A, and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years: other countries: $7.00 a year, $)3.00 ~or )wo years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S,A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW Fog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 5 EDWARD J. FARRELL The Journal--A Way into Prayer If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the unspoken woriJ, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within the world and for the world; and the light shone in darkness and against the Word the unstilled world still whirled about the centre of the silent Word --Ash Wednesday, T. S. Eliot. Prayer is a hunger, a hunger that is not easily quieted. Today the cry, "Teach us to pray," echoes and reverber-ates from many directions. One of the ways I have learned to pray is by writing. I began by copying favorite passages from reading, then thoughts and ideas of others and fi-nally came to jotting down my own insights and reflec-tions from the prayer and experiences of each day. This prayer journal at times seems like my own biography of Christ, a kind of Fifth Gospel. Writing makes me think of the Evangelists' experience. Why and how did Mat-thew, Mark, Luke, and John begin their writing? What happened in them? What kind of grace was affecting them? Certainly their experience in writing was a prayer, an entering into the mind and heart of Christ. I wonder if the evangelists' experience is not to be a more common experience for many Christians. We know that God has expressed Himself in a unique and privileged way in Scripture, and yet He continues to reveal Himself and ourselves to us in the events of our ~everyday life. His written word is fresh born each morn-ing and He appeals to us: "Harden not your hearts this day as your fathers did in the desert" (Ps 95). We dare to ask Him each day: "Give us this day our daily bread," knowing that it is not by bread alone that man lives but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. The Father continues to communicate to each of us through E. J. Farrell is a faculty member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206, VOLUME 30, 751 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit of His Son, "for the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God. After all, the depths of a man can only be known by his own spirit, not by any other man; and in the same way the depths of God can only be known by the Spirit of God. Now instead of the spirit of the world, we have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Cot 2:10-2). Rahner somewhere writes: "There are things which theologians try to explain. The Lord has other means of making them understood." Christ speaks to us each in a unique way. I think and pray and speak to Him in a way no one else has ever spoken to Him. He speaks to me in a way that He has spoken to no one else. Moments of depth and rare in-sight, of meeting with God, the sacred, are to be treasured and pondered within the heart. What photography is to the visual, writing is to the intuitive and moment of light. Paul wrote: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ (Eph 3:4). Writing enables us to see into the depths. It is not a simple recording of thoughts already finished; it is crea-tive in its very activity and process. Writing is a journey, exploring the countries of the mind and heart, the never ending revelatory Word spoken once for all time. Little attention has been given to the value of writing as a way into prayer, an openness to contemplation, as a celebra-tion and remembering, as discovery, as centering. Deep calls to deep and the deep conscious level responding to the deep, not yet conscious reality of our being. In the beginning was the Word and He had to become incar- Ilate. There is I hope something of the Evangelists' grace for each of us, the grace of writing, of incarnating, infleshing the word in our self and imprinting it and making it our word. None of the Evangelists were "writers" in the pro-fessional sense; yet their writings were a deep communi-cation with God, with themselves, with others. Our Lord frequently asked His listeners: "What do you think?" He constantly compels us to think, to contemplate! How sad it is that so often we lose our capacity for truth, for depth; numbness, overload fuses out and shortcircuits our perceptive facuhies. Writing creates an opening in the stream of uncon-" sciousness and breaks up the automatic pattern of our life. One awakes to the newness that comes so unexpected each day. Our eyes see differently as through the wonder of a new camera. One becomes aware that ihis is the only moment like this that I shall ever have. The first con-scious thought of the day becomes an exciting experi- ence. As a person writes he begins to recognize an extraor-dinary relation between the hand as it writes and the mind and heart, like an ignition. What is written is not as significant as what happens to us in the process. Some-thing is growing within; hidden capacity gently reveals itself. New sensitivities unfold. The horizon sweeps back, the veil lifts, and we experience Emmaus: "Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us and explained the scripture to us" (Lk 24:32). Rollo May describes creativity as "the encounter of the intensely conscious human being with his world." Writing is an experience of creativity immediately availa-ble to everyone: "To write one has but to begin, to take the risk, to take it seriously enough to play with it, for it is by walking that one creates the path." It is so easy to live outside of ourselves, to be unaware of the inner center, the inner dialogue, the inner journey. But once a man begins, he experiences the' thrill of his own unique thoughts and insights. He begins to descern his own words from the borrowed words of others. What an ac-celeration to discover the "hidden manna" and He who gives him "a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it" (Rev 2:17). T. S. Eliot expresses it so simply: With the drawing of this Love and the Voice of this Calling We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Writing is a way into what is going on and developing within ourselves. It can become a powerful way of prayer, a key to self-understanding and inner dialogue. The power in writing stimulates the very inner process that it is engaged in describing, drawing the process further inward. It is not a passive retelling of events, or a de-scribing of an experience. It becomes one's own experi-ence. Nor is it a self-conscious analytical introspection. Expressing oneself in words is rather an active and con-tinuing involvement in a personal inner process through which one is drawn into an expanded understanding of the reality in his own existence. For example, most peo-ple pray the Our Father every day. One can hear Christ's words and then suddenly hear what his own heart is saying: "Hallowed by my name, my kingdom come, my will be done." This inbreaking of understanding can be-come just another forgotten inspiration and lost grace or by getting it down it becomes specific, focused, and deci-sive. If one writes regularly, no matter how briefly, a con-scious thought, insighL prayer, reflection,he will find that 4- + + The Journal VOLUME ~0, 1971 753 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "/54 it becomes a cumulative enrichment. It is tuning into what is going on, seeing the connection and relationship, capturing that which is behind the consciousness. Writing and contemplation tend to merge. We know the saints best who found themselves compelled to write---Augus-tine, Bernard, Catherine, Teresa, and our own contem-poraries John XXIII's Journal of a Soul, Dag Hammar-skjold's Markings. In this day of so much glib talk, when we are daily inundated and assaulted with unending words and speech, when everyone is correspondingly articulate on every-thing, the written personal word is increasingly impor-tant. Such words come out of silence and expand silence. They reestablish privacy so rare today, and a comfortable sense of solitude. They beget the dialogue between one's known self and one's deeper, unknown self that is coming into being. One begins to hear the wordless dialogue be-tween one's deepest sel{ and God. Christ taught His Dis-ciples through the deep questions--"Who do you say I am? . Do you love me? . What do you think?" We can-not but respond to His questions and imperatives with our own questions and responses: "Is it I, Lord? W.here do you live?" As never before, each of us has to personalize our faith; we must initial it with our own name and make it ours. We must be able to give reason for the faith that is within us. People do not ask about the formal teachings of the Church. They want to know your experience, what you think, what difference does Jesus make. Here are some of the questions that I. have been asked and that I write about in order that I may be ready to speak His word in me for others: "How do you pray? . Who is Jesus for me?.When do you believe? .W. hen do you love?" "How? .When have you experienced penance? .W. hat difference does the Eucharist make in you? . What do you expect of you? .How does your vineyard grow?" "What is your charism? .W. hat is your sin? .W. hat would it take for you to be a saint now? . What is Jesus asking of you today? . What effect are you making on your world?" These questions demand thinking; they demand contemplation. Answering the questions in spoken words may avoid the implications of their personal meaning. Thinking is so diffused, unformulated, scattered, easily distracted. To write an answer for one's self is to drive deep; it disciplines, focuses, and brings one to face Christ with his conviction. A journal is a journey--the journey of today--both words are from the French word "le jour"--today. The journal is the coming into possession of life this day in the written word, capturing its secret, its mystery. The written word is perhaps more like a kiss than a possessing as in the words of Blake: He who bends to himself a joy Doth the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Loves in Eternity's sunrise. The journal calls for honesty, for a search into meet-ing. It is a discipline in a day when discipline is rare: "But it is a narrow gate and a hard road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Mt 7:14). Time set aside to move from the outer to the inner, to discover new depths, to see new connections, to perceive fresh insight--surely this work is prayer. It is at times unselfconscious poetry and contemporary psalmody. The journal is a putting into words the praise of God that leaps from the transparencies of life which the light of faith illumines for us. Each of us has our own nnique psalms; the journal helps us to find the words which in turn we share with those He sends to us. Each must honor the desire to express one-self or not. Every person has his own inner rhythm, and each must have his own way of getting to it. Writing Together When people come together and are silent, something in addition becomes present: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Mt 18:20). As a group turns their focus from outside to inside, to a level of depth, something else be-comes present and makes other kinds of experiences pos-sible. This contact with ourselves would not happen by oneself. A cumulative atmosphere of depth allows us to come to new depth within ourselves. One of the more fruitful group prayer experience that I have worked with is using a three-hour block of time. A gronp of six to ten sit in a small circle in the presence of the Eucharist or with the open Scripture and lighted candle, in the center. The first hour is a prayer of adoration, of silent witness to the Presence in the presence of each other. This hour is an experience of silence and hiddenness with the Father: "You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God." The second hour is the hour of writingmthe quantum leaps from nothingness into creation--the power of a word pulling many things into understand-ing. Out of the silence the word comes forth. A field of energy is generated by the concentration of the others around oneself, and one is supported by the current of their efforts. The hour of writing is more than a remem-bering the hour in silence. It is an unfolding experience in itself that carries new dimensions of perception with it. The third hour is one of sharing, of speaking the word 4- + + The .lournal 755 to one another. The sharing is at a depth level because of the common experience of the previous two hours--it is no longer an exchange of words and ideas, it is a meeting of persons. In some dim way these three hours are a Trinity experience--the Father in the hour of silence, the Son in the hour of writing, and the Holy Spirit in the hour of sharing. God speaks! We are compelled to etch Him upon our hearts in writing; and then we are ready to bear witness unafraid and we dare to say with Paul: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ" (Eph 3:4). EDWARD HAYES, O.C.S.O. Probings into Prayer One of the purposes of transactional analysis is to liber-ate people from unheahhy negative feelings about them-selves and others. To do this, one endeavors to evoke the same original sitnation wherein the "child" made a feel-ing decision from the experience. Once the original expe-rience is evoked, one has to re-decide, perhaps years later, at a feeling level, to liberate oneself from sulzh unhealthy negative feelings. In short, one has to return to the origi-nal injunction and re-decid~ on a feeling level. It is al-most a cliche in some circles: go back to childhood, to one's origin in order to understand one's present situa-tion better. ,'1 Wider Concept o[ Prayer To better nnderstand prayer it is also beneficial to return to its origins.1 St. John tells us: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was toward God and the Word was God" (Jn 1;I). The Word was "toward God" sounds strange. We usually translate it by "with God," "near God," changing the meaning of the Greek, "pros theon." " The evangelist wants to express a mystery that our translation ought to respect. "Toward God" implies relationship, motion. From eternity the Word was turned toward the Father, the Word's Personality, His divine gaze, was totally addressing the Father--a Thou. An un-ceasing movement drew the Word toward the Father. Prayer is a movement toward Another, a responding rela-tionship. St. John, in describing the origin of prayer, is telling us something of great import: to become fully conscious you need only to look with love on another-- on a "Thou." And this is what the Word does from all eternity--turning totally toward His Father. Prayer de-scribed as this means it is relational, a moving toward Another. Responding to my life situation is a "moving 1Jean Galot, s.J., La pri~re (Bruges: Desclfie de Brouwer, 1965); throughout this article I am indebted to this hook. '~ I. de La Potterie, "De interpunctione et interpretatione versuum Job. 1:3, 4, I1," Verbum Domini, v. 33 (1955), pp. 193-208. 4- Edward Hayes is a staff member of the House of Prayer at Durward's Glen; RR 2, Box 220; Baraboo, Wisconsin 53913. VOLUME 30, 1971 757 4. 4. °4. Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS toward the Father," is prayer, is an earthly embodiment of the Eternal Word's incessant prayer. In this sense of prayer as a "pros theon" movement, prayer is as wide as life. Saying yes to the summons in one's daily circum-stances is a "pros theon" movement, is saying yes to ulti-mate Responsibility, God Himself. In this way man is again and again opening himsel[ to the summons availa-ble in his life, seeking to respond to it with courage and generosity. Although not in a specifically religious exer-cise, not even with a supernatural intention, man, in answering the appeals in his daily secular experiences, is moving toward the Fathei', is at prayer. Formal prayer, then, simply clarifies and intensifies the moving toward the Father wherever people try to become more truly themselves. Another example o[ this wider concept o[ prayer as a movement toward, as a dynamic thrust toward Another, is at the end o[ the prologue. "No one has ever seen God, it is the only Son who is into the bosom o[ the Father, he it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). Verse 1 and verse 18 together make an inclusion to the prologue. The prologue begins and ends with the Word's (Son's) dy-namic movement into the Godhead. Here in verse 18, "eis ton kolpon," literally, "into the Father's bosom," is trans-lated like its counterpart in verse 1. Translations hesitate to express the original and prefer, "He who is in the bosom of the Father." Ke.eping the awkward translation makes evident the expression of movement, "into the bosom of the Father." Here is a dynamic thrust, a vital relationship of the Son toward the Father. From eternity, the authentic core of His Person is addressed and called forth in filial love. True prayer is being summoned and responding, a reality as wide as life itself. Beyond Professionalism It has been pointed out to us that many in pastoral care take special training because of their need to be more skillful in their pastoral relationships,z The increas-ing number of pastoral training centers witnesses to the great desire to find an answer to the "how-to-do-it" ques-tion. How to relate to hippies, to young radicals, to stu-dents, to those in crises. Those in pastoral care do look to the masters of behavioral sciences to give them answers [or their urgent questions. Certainly, the assistance o[ these social sciences is o[ tremendous importance. Yet there is a unique dimension which goes beyond the ex-pertise o[ the behavioral sciences, that goes beyond pro- [essionalism to the internal dynamism of one's faith. We n Henri Nouwen, "Pastoral Care," National Catholic Reporter, v. 7, n. 20 (March 19, 1971), p. 8. are referring here not to techniques but to one's spiritual quality, to one's inner thrust, to one's conviction and authenticity to be communicated in encountering others. Jesus Himself cared for souls and their individual needs, for Magdalene, for the woman at the .well, for Nicode-mus. Jesus was skillful in His relationships with them and was not afraid to use His insights into the stirrings of the human heart. But when asked about the source of His knowledge He said: "My teaching is not from myself; it comes from the one who sent me" (Jn 7:16), This exemplifies going beyond techniques and skills and plunging into the heart of relationship to Another. Another text indicating the relationship between inner depth and one's mission, skillfully relating to others, is: "No one has seen God except the only Son who is into the bosom of the Father. He it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). "Into the bosom of the Father" means that the Son penetrates into the deepest secrets of the Father. Prayer, as was mentioned, inv~)lves a filial dyna-mism wherein the Holy Spirit, like di~cine energy, seizes the Son, carrying Him into the bosom of the Father. But then John adds: "He [the Son] it is who has made him known," marking the relationship between prayer and one's mission. To make known the Father, to be witness, one must give witness not only for Someone but to what one has seen. The only Son has made known what His divine gaze, in moving deeper into the secret recesses of the Father, has grasped and contemplated. All one's wit-nessing value issues out of a dynamism which has carried him, first of all, into the bosom of the Father. Again we are going beyond professionalism. Making known the Fa-ther, accomplishing one's apostolate, is to issue out of or be blended with searching into the inner recesses of the Father, that is, prayer. If one ceases to "wonder" in the silent reflection of his inner loneliness, if one has not yet begun to imbibe the Spirit by letting Scriptures speak to him, if one rationalizes his way out of praying together with a handful of friends who mediate the Spirit to him --this apostle has not gone beyond professionalism and can scarcely bring hope and ultimate meaning to the lives o£ others.4 Again we can approach the same matter by looking further into the meaning of "into the bosom of the Fa-ther." It means attaining the secret depths of God, plung-ing deeply into reality where God is hidden. Human experiences have privileged moments of disclosure where the infinite Thou is unveiled from within the finite 4 Gerard Broccolo, "The Priest Praying in the Midst of the Fam-ily of Men," Concilium, n. 52 (New York: Paulist, 1970). 4- 4- ÷ Prayer VOLUME 30, ).971 ÷ + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 760 thou.~ Searching into the bosom of the Father can mean a sensitivity for the deeper and transcending element that is experienced as co-present. We call this ultimate and hidden depth of human experience "Person" or "Father." The divine presence is hidden in the deepest dimension of human experience and so moving "into the bosom of the Father" can also mean contemplating God's work with man, distinguishing with a growing sensitivity the light and darkness in the human heart. Prayer, in this sense, is the ongoing disclosure of the deepest dimension of reality to us, revealing both God's light and man's darkness. In this perspective, our apostolate is never lim-ited to the application of any technique but ultimately goes beyond professionalism. It is the continuing search for God hidden in the life of the people we serve. Prayer, moving into the bosom of the Father, means searching and finding the God we want to make known in the lives of the people to whom we want to reveal Him. Prayer and Sell-identity ~Arho am 1? Do 1 think of myself as isolated, as exposed to the coincidences of every day, as placed in a universe withont meaning and without a fi~tnre? There are indeed moments in my life when I experience myself in this way. In faith I acknowledge nay new self-identity: I am a son and therefore given a destiny. I nnderstand myself as placed in a context where meaning and purpose are avail-able to me. This destiny makes me someone. In faith, therefore, I acknowledge nay own worth, not because of the efforts I make but because, as a son, I am accepted. In faith, there is no reason for me to be ashamed of myself. As son I rejoice in myselfY This filial identity is expressed and intensified by prayer. When the Son leaves the bosom of the Father and enters human life, his eternal "pros theon" movement is embodied at moments of prayer so that there is, in the evangelist's mind, a certain bond between Christ's prayer and manifesting His filial identity. For instance, at His Baptism there is a solemn declaration of His divine filia-tion by the Father as a result of Jesus' own prayer: "Now when all the people had been baptized and while Jesus after his own baptism was in prayer, heaven opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily shape, like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you' " (Lk 3:21-2). It was in the midst of His prayer that the Spirit's descent and ~ Fons d'Hoogh, "Prayer in a Secularized Society," Concilium, n. 49 (New York: Paulist, 1969), pp. 42 ft. ~ Gregory Baum, Faith and Doctrine (New York: Newman, 1969), p. 18. the Father's proclamation took place as if the Father was awaiting the filial dlan of His son, which prayer embod-ies, before declaring Jesus' divine filiation. Recognizing in Christ's words and gestures the authentic expression of sonship, the Father proclaimed with power that this man is His beloved Son. Notice the bond between Christ's prayer and revealing the true identity of Christ as Son. Again, at the Transfiguration, prayer plays the same role: "He took with him Peter and John and James and went up the mountain to pray" (Lk 9:28). The purpose was to pray and only during the course of their prayer did the incident of the Transfiguration take place. Jesus inwardly gazing upon the Father suddenly makes Him appear visibly what He is in reality: the resplendent glory of the Father (Heb 1:3): "As he prayed the aspect of his countenance was changed and his clothing became bril-liant as lightning" (Lk 9:29). As at the Baptism, by pray-ing Jesus adopts a filial attitude and in this "pros theon" movement the proclamation of divine Sonship is heard. Again, the bond between prayer and His self-identity as Son is seen. Finally, at His death, Jesus prays: "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). By beginning with "Father," Jesus changes the Psalmist's prayer of the Old Testament (Ps 21:6) into a filial prayer. The Psalmist was crying out to Yahweh but Christ trans-figures the Psalmist's prayer by saying "Father," making it a filial prayer. That cry was His last testimony as Son. At the supreme moment Jesus pulls Himself together so that fi'om the very ground of His being there arises the strength to proclaim what is closest to Him, His Sonship. This is the most moving revelation of His Sonship, so moving that it convinces the pagan centurion: "In truth this man was the son of God" (Mk 15:39). In the three most privileged moments wherein Christ is revealed as Son of God we are aware of the role of prayer. At the Baptism, at the Transfiguration, and at His death it was prayer that evoked the manifestation of Jesus' filial identity. In turning toward the Father in prayer Jesus is acting as Son and this gesture provokes on the part of the Father the proclamation of Christ's Sonship. This sponta-neous gesture belongs to the revelation of the mystery of His person. Whenever in prayer, Jesus is unveiling His divinity under a filial form. In Him there exists a bond between prayer and revealing the quality of sonship which allows us to say that prayer manifests and intensi-fies our self-identity as sons. If you are traveling on a train it occasionally happens that the steady clicking of the rails and the movement of the train begin to put you to sleep. When the train slows down and comes to a halt the little jolt involved in stop- Prayer VOLUME 30, 1971 ping awakens you. As-we move from one day into the next, often the sameness in daily situations can put one into a spiritual somnolence. It is when we stop that rhythm by breaking off for the sake of reflection that an awakening of inner life happens. Prayer, reflection, is an awakening to your deeper self, recalling you to what is the most basic dimension within you, to the reality as son. Prayer is discovering what you already are. You do not have to rush after it. It is there all the time. All that is needed is time for it to unfold. If you give it time it will make itself known to you. Christ established a new principle of human life: man becomes his true self espe-cially in prayer. Grace hides a filial identity and it is prayer which reveals to a human person that which is the deepest and truest nobility within onself: the quality as son of the Father. This turning toward the Father affirms and (leepens one's self-identity as son. Like Jesus Himself, man in prayer, continuing the mystery of the Incarna-tion, can become fully aware of what he really is, son. + + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS PETER BYRNE, C.Ss.R. Teilhard de Chardin and Commitment There is now incontrovertible evidence that mankind has just entered upon the greatest period of change the world has ever krlown.~ These stirring words were first uttered in 1936 by Tell-hard de Chardin, and they bear scrutiny today more than 30 years later when change seems to be not only taking place but seems to be the most constant feature of life. In fact change occurs so rapidly in these times that soci-ologists tell us that a new generation rises every 5 years. Practically, this means that the mores and values of any age group five years ago seem to the equivalent age group today to be dated. It may seem strange, but while all agree that rapid and radical change is taking place there is very little agreement as to the fundamental nature of the change itself. The symptoms of radical discontent with the past are apparent; but historians, philosoph.ers, theo-logians and scientists hardly dare to guess what will be the shape or appearance of the future, This paper is an attempt to find something constant at the heart and center of the changing world. It will at-tempt to answer the question of man's responsibility to direct and control change, and finally it will say some-thing about the part that religious rnust take in this dy-namic and changing world. We can list the symptoms of change under two head-ings, namely, destructive and constructive. On the de-structive side we witness the breakdown of authority and consequent concern about law and order as traditionally understood. Protest marches and demonstrations are the order of the day and often lead to violence and death. The establishment everywhere is under fire from young people demanding change, relevance, and recognition. I Teilhard de Chardin, Building the Earth (Wilkes Barre, Pa., 1965), p. 22. ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne gives missions and re-treats and can be reached at P.O. Box 95; Bacolod City, Philippines. VOLUME 30, 1971 763 Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 764 Every year brings a new record of abortions, murders, suicides, and violent deaths. Add to this the ever increas-ing number of drug addicts and drop-outs from society, the wars that rage in three continents and that are a constant threat to peace and order and established gov-ernment. This very age which we call the age of progress seems to be also the age of progressive estrangement from God. "Eclipse of the light of heaven, eclipse of God, such indeed is the character of the historic hour through which the world is passing." _o So wrote Martin Buber and man's loneliness and isolation from his fellowmen predictably led to isolation from God who was variously described as absent, silent, or dead. On the constructive side man has also something to show. In the short span of a few decades modern man has learned to fly, invented radio, telephone, and television; he has set up worldwide communications network, trans-planted hearts, harnessed electric and atomic power, pro-longed life expectancy, probed the secrets of the heavens, and landed on the moon. The new style of Christian life already in vigor in the world may be described as "more commitment and less devotion, more spirit and less super-stition, more autonomy and less authority, more society and less herd, more concern and less worry, more sponta-neity and less guilt, more creativity and less rote, more joy and less fear, more humanity and less pomposity, more thought and less testament." :~ Are we picturing only the sunny side of life and shut-ting our eyes to the horrors of life? "Men still merely understand strength, the key and symbol of violence in its primitive and savage form of war.''4 Have we forgotten Nagasaki, Biafra, Dachau--symbol of a Christian nation methodically with the aid of modern science exterminat-ing five million Jews and (often forgotten) six million Christians? This.age .of "civilisation" shows a record of at least one major war every decade leading to direct or in-direct killing of millions. A discussion of the comparative strength of nations means not their power to construct a better society and raise the standard of living, but rather their military resources in terms of minutemen, warheads, rockets, bombs and all kinds of fighting equipment. A well-known writer has said that he always reads the sports page of the newspaper first and the front page last be-cause the former contains the record of man's triumphs and the latter his defeats. We do not ignore the grim ~ Martin Bubcr, The Eclipse oJ God (New York, 1957), p. 23. ¯ ~ Leslie Dcwart, The Foundations oJ BelieJ (New York, 1969), p. 486. ~ Building the Earth, p. 73. reality of the turmoil in the world; it must enter into any view of the total human situation. Before going on to give interpretations of the trend of the human race and to theorize about its final end, we can make one observation here which I think will be accepted by all as true. At any stage of the history of the human race we can put down side by side the best and the worst features of the age, the constructive and the destructive elements that made up the human situation of the time. Numerically they may often seem to cancel each other out, leaving us to ponder the question of Sartre whether progress and life are not finally absurd. However, the good and bad elements of human history differ markedly in one important respect; namely, the bad pass and the good remain. To clarify--the natural disasters like plagues, famine, earthquakes, fires, floods; the man-made calamities of war, murder, and scientific destrnction, which directly and indirectly have claimed millions of lives, we have survived all these (though by no means paid the debt of expiation). Not only has the human race survived all disasters but established a world opinion that seems to make a recurrence of the worst of these virtually impossible. Not only has the human race survived and grown more and more enlightened but the products of man's skill and inventiveness spread further every day and be-come more and more available to people everywhere-- medicine, transportation, communication, education, all adding up to man's conquest of matter and coming to enjoy greater personal fi'eedom. It does seem that general history shows that the good things of life survive while the less worthy perish and pass into comparative oblivion. This is not to say that there were no exceptions to this general rule. Many of the ancients showed skills in archi-tecture, sculpture, acoustics, writing, whose secrets have been lost. This paper is concerned with the future and the pres-ent rather than with the past. What we say of the past has value mainly for our extrapolated assessment of the trend of progress in the future. The attitude that we adopt to-wards the world and towards life is determined by our philosophy, our theology, or simply by our experience. People who have had firsthand experience of war often lose faith in human nature and faith in God Himself. If God exists and is good, how can He permit the sense-less killing of innocent human b(ings? Sartre reached the conclusion that man is utterly alone: "With no ex-cuses behind us or justification before us, every human being is born without reason, prolongs life out of weak- + ÷ + Teiihartl and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 765 ÷ ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 766 ness and dies by chance." "~ For Sartre God did not exist and life was absurd. This does not do justice to Sartre nor do we intend here to dwell on him because it does not seem possible to build a philosophy of hope for the fu-ture on the premise that life is absurd. I should like to contrast here two attitudes towards the future of the earth---one is found in what may be loosely called traditional Catholic spirituality and the other in the works of Teilhard de Chardin. The traditional Catholic expression of the purpose of our life is contained in the oft quoted words of St. Ig-natius Loyola: "Man was created to praise God his Lord, to give Him honor and so to save his soul." 6 The helleni-sation of Christianity brought into clear relief the dis-tinction between body arid soul and practically the mes-sage of salvation as preached was preoccupied with saving the soul which was imprisoned in the body. The great enemies of salvation were the world, the flesh, and the devil. The question was asked: What does. Jesus say to teach us that saving our soul is more important than anything else? And the answer: Jesus says: "What doth it profit a man if he gains the whole world but suffers the loss of his own soul?" 7 If the world posed a threat to the salvation of the soul, the proper attitude towards it was one of detachment if not positive conflict. It should be used to sustain life but never developed for its own sake. It could be used also to store up merit through labor: "Labor as the fulfillment of God's will is a source of merit, atoning for sin and lay-ing up glory in heaven. Through it I work out my own salvation and contribute to the good of my neighbor, both spiritual and material good." s Distrust of the flesh easily led to distrust of human emotions and heavy emphasis on the necessity of asceti-cism. Penance was exalted and a luxurious life frowned upon. Scientific advances were often judged not by bene-fits they conferred but rather by the threat that they posed to a way of life that should be sealed with the cross of Christ. Taken all in all, this world and even the human body was man's temporary prison from which the true Christian looked forward to release for his entry into his true home in heaven. Of course, it was a matter of emphasis acquired little by little as the Church tried to meet the challenges that she had to face. And how does traditional Christianity appear ~ H. J. Blackman (cd.), Reality, Man and Existence (New York, 1965), p. 325. ~A Catholic Catechism (New York, 1963), p. 2. z Ibid., p. 299. s Leo Trese, Guide to Christian Living (Notre Dame, 1963), p. 345. to modern man? He sees it as indifferent if not actually hostile to science, no leader in the world but a deserter, scared of personalism and love; a religion of death, pov-erty, suffering, sorrow, that knows how to weep at the crucifixion but incapable of joy at the resurrection; with no adequate theology of work, success, joy, marriage, youth, hope, life, or love. Young people today are looking for a presentation of Christianity that will endorse their admiration for sci-ence, their love of the workl, and their hopes for the fu-ture. It is Teilhard de Chardin who seems to give Chris-tianity the particular emphasis necessary to meet these aspirations of our time. In contrast, the traditional preaching of Christianity seemed to be more interested in the past than the future; it seemed cold towards science and detached from the earth. This of course was reflected in the practical lives of Christians, causing Christianity to be dubbed as irrelevant. Let us see how Teilhard un-derstood the trend of evolution and the implication of his views in terms of commitment: The situation which Teilhard entered was one in which materialists asserted that everything in this world is governed by blind purposeless determinism; while christians too often were simply fighting a rear-guard action against them, trying to resist as long as possible any scientific theory which seemed to conflict with traditional ideas.° Teilhard was at the same time .a devoted priest and a devoted scientist. His closest friends included unbelievers, agnostics, skeptics--many of them outstanding scientists for whom Christianity was an outdated monolith indiffer-ent to progress. Teilhard wanted to find a way of giving expression to the faith that was in him in a way that the scientists would listen to. And so he began by speaking the language of the scientist in terms that held their attention and commanded their respect because of his diligence in research. However his life work was not intended merely as an apologetic for others but because he felt also within himself the anguish of trying to reconcile progress on earth with the christian ideal of detachment: This has always been the problem of my life; what I mean is the reconciliation of progress and detachment---of a passionate and legitimate love for this great earth and unique pursuit of the kingdom of heaven?° ÷ And so he set out to try to reconcile in a single synthesis + these two. He believed that they could not be opposed + but must in some way complement one another. To effect Teilhard and the synthesis he did not begin with revelation but with Commitment ° Fr. John Russell, A Vision o/Teilhard de Chardin, p. 9. ~°Christopher F. Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery Christ (New York, 1966), p. 28. VOLUME 30, 1971 767 + ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 768 what can be observed by human perception. He was not afraid of what science might discover. "We christians," he said, "have no need to be afraid of, or to be unreason-ably shocked by, the resuhs of scientific research . they detract nothing from the almighty power of God nor from the spirituality of the soul, nor from the supernatu-ral character of christianity, nor from a man's superiority to the animals." al For Teilhard the whole world was in a state of becom-ing. It has very obviously developed from a state of chaos to a state of order. It may have taken five billion years to reach its present state. In the course of those years the earth cooled and became gradually disposed to produce and sustain life. Even prior to the emergence of life on earth a very important aspect of evolution is observable, namely, complexity. Electron, atom, molecule--these show not only. succession in time but gradual growth in complexity organized about a center. Teilhard calls this centro-complexity. This process is carried further in vi-ruses and further still in cells which are the first bodies that beyond doubt possess life. Still further tip the scale of development are plants and animals which have their own order of complexity. But Teilhard observed also that growth in complexity is accompanied by a gradual intensification of conscious-ness. By means of the mechanisms of reproduction and association, life on earth moved forward in time and upward on the scale of coxnplexity. Man made his appear-ance one million years ago which in terms of the age of life on earth is quite recent. The thin line of life that has survived and developed on earth ~loes not amount to one millionth of the leaves that have sprouted on the tree of life. Complexity is a measure of time and this complexity in the various forms of life helps us to differentiate the time of their emergence in the course of evolution. But complexity alone does not mark one stage of evo-lution from another. A new element enters in, conscious-ness. The more complex a being becomes, the more centered it is on itself and the more aware it is. This aware-ness gives the being spontaneity of action and the ability to adapt and to dominate. This consciousness is further accompanied with the growth and refinement of the nerv-ous system. Matter achieves the break-through into con-sciousness through the complexification of the cells which produced the nervous system. The "within" of a thing grows more intense as the external o~'ganisation of the nervous system grows more complex. This "within" of things is a spiritual energy that was latent in matter im-n Teiihard de Chardin, Science and Christ (New York, 1968), p. 35. pelling evolution upwards in a glorious ascent. It is called by Teilhard "radial energy" and is that ever vibrating and vital force that has maintained the evolutionary process despite the unimaginable hazards that the process has encountered in the course of its millions of years of duration. A new threshold in the evolutionary process is crossed after due process of divergence, convergence, and emerg-ence. The final emergence is a new development in con-sciousness, something old because it came from the po-tential in the antecedents and emerged through creative union. Nevertheless, the new .emergence can be called new because it cannot be reduced to anything that was there before. Thought was the sign of a new emergence. In primates nature concentrated on the development of the brain. This is the process of cerebralisation. An increase of con-sciousness is in direct proportion to the degree of cere-bralisation, that is, increase in the complexity of brain structure. Among the primates when a certain advanced stage of brain development had been achieved, thought was born and with thought man was born. So that is the position of man in the evolutionary proc-ess. He is not the offshoot of a runaway evolution but the supreme culmination and product of the process itself-- the result of development and effort that covered aeons of time. Man is a person and he personalizes the world. He penetrates the world by his creative thinking and organizes the world-around himself. Man is not only conscious but also self-conscious; he can think and reflect on himself. He can survey the whole length of his own past history; he can see the process of successive emer-gences by which he himself has come to be. He sees the ever enduring quality of "radial energy" that still drives the process onward and upward. Comparing his present state with the state of evolution prior to man he asks the question: Where do we go from here? And then realizes that he does not only have the question but that the answer also is up to man himself. The new quality of the present stage of evolution is that it is under man's control. All stages prior to the emer-gence were at a subhuman level and therefore outside man's own control. In a certain sense man is the creator and not merely the passive recipient of the next stage of evolution. Before determining what are our obligations to the future we must continue the scientific process of observa-tion and try by extrapolation if we can know the trend of evolution for the future. The process leading to emer-gence must continue and this is leading mankind ~o ever greater and greater unity. This socialization of commun-÷ ÷ ÷ Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 769 4. 4. Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity is truly the crucial phase of the whole evolutionary process, and the deepest longing of the human heart is that it will never end but that it will reach fulfillment. This fulfillment cannot destroy thought or consciousness or personality. On the contrary it must eternalize them. Teilhard's idea of final synthesis becomes clearer when we contragt it with Bergson's idea that the elan vital (his name for what Teilhard calls radial energy) would finally issue in plurality and divergence: Bergson chose the plurMity and divergence. According to the Jewish philosopher, the world is evolving towards dispersal. As it advances its elements acquire greater autonomy. Each being is to achieve its own utmost originality and its maximum freedom in opposition to others. Perfection, bliss and supreme grandeur belong to the part not to the whole. From this dis-persive point of view socialisation of tb~ ".-.roman masses seems to be absurd regression or servitude. ~Lssentially the universe spreads like a fan; it is divergent in s :~cture."-' Teilbard's conclusion from science was that the universe has a goal and that this goal will be achieved because if the universe bas hitherto been successful in the unlikely task of bringing human thought to birth in what seems to us an unimaginable tangle of chances and mishaps it means that it is fundamentally directed by a power tbat is eminently in control of the elements that make up the universe.'" This power is the omega that must be personal, im-manent, and eternal. The answer to this need felt by the scientist is in the Christ of revelation. "By itself science cannot discover Christ--but Christ satisfies the yearnings that are born in our hearts in the school of science." 14 This is the achievement of Teilhard--to show how sci-ence and Christianity can join bands in accomplishing the final destiny of mankind. "Humanity," he says, "evolves in such a way ;is to form a natural unity whose extension is as vast as the earth." a~ Greater planetization, greater socialization, greater unity in love, this is the stage of development that we have reached. This conclu-sion is compatible with science and doubly borne out by our faith. "A passionate love of growth, of being, that is what we need." ~ (These sentiments were echoed by Pope Panl Vl in Populorum progressio when he said of the underprivileged: "They want to know more, and have more, because what they really want is to be more.") Love is the most universal, formidable, and mysterious of the cosmic energies; and Teilbard defines love as "the '~ Francisco Bravo, Christ in the Thought o] Teilhard tie Chardin, p. 15. ~.s Science and Ctirisg, p. 41. ~ Ibid., p. 36. ~s Ibid., p. 93. ~" Building the Earth, p. 108. attraction which is exercised upon each conscious element by the center of the universe." ~7 "The age of nations is past. The task before us now, if we would not perish, is to shake off our ancient !)rejudices and to build the earth." ~s Therefore Teilhard's contribution in respect to the fu-ture is to show us where the radial energy at the heart of evolution is driving us. We are tending towards not a meaningless annihilation, but, through interaction and love, towards the blending into one commnnity and even into one consciousness of all humanity. In fact, Teil-hard says that the crisis of the present time is a spiritual crisis in the sense that men "do not know towards what universe and final end they shonld direct the driving force of their sonls." ~'~ But we Christians know that prog-ress is leading to the restoration of all things in Christ. History, science, anthropology can systematically ennmer-ate the timeless longings of the human heart and can list the various endeavors to accomplish tlteir fnlfiIlment. The endeavors failed for it is only Christ who meets the demand of the alpha and the omega. Teilhard was able to show that science does not have to eclipse religion or vice versa. In fact both of these need each other if total harmony in the world is to be ac, hieved. Of science Tell-hard said: "The time has come to realise that research is the highest hnman ftmction, embracing the spirit of war and bright with the splendor of religion." '-'~' And of religion he writes: "Out of universal evolution God emerges ill onr consciousness as greater and more neces-sary than ever." ~1 Teilhard summed up his convictions succinctly when he wrote in The Divine Milieu: . three convictions which are the very marrow of christian-ity, the unique significance of Man as the spear-head of life; the position of Catholicism as the central :~xis in the convergent bnndle of human activities; and finally the essential ftmction as consummator assumed by the risen Christ at the cemer and peak of creation: these three elements have driven and con-tinue to drive roots so deep and so entangled in the whole fabric of my intellectual and religious perception that I could now tear them out only at the cost of destroying everything.~ He says that a challenge is put to a C/n'istian to be ac-tive and busily active "working as earnestly as the most convinced of those who work to build up the earth, that Christ may continually be born more fnlly in the world ~ Ibid., F- 45. ~8 Ibid., p. 54. "~' 'S Bciueinldcien agn tdh eC Eharirstth, ,p p. .1 5061. -"r Ibid., p. 59. '-'-'Teilbard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (London, 1968), p. 38. + + 4- Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 + ÷ ÷ Pete~ Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 772 around him. More than any unbeliever never outstripped in hope and boldness." Teilhard spoke also of the task that confronts theolo-gians to think through the implications of evolution so that a new proclamation of thegospel may herald the new era in which we live. For the Christian this world is not only an antechamber to heaven but a task and a vo-cation. He wants Catholic doctrine to be given a dynamic aspect and a universal, cosmic, and futurist dimension34 The turmoil that we witness in the Church today may well be the birth pangs antecedent to a new emergence of Christianity not merely in the shadow of the cross but, more relevant to the hope that is in us, in its shining light. Leslie Dewart expresses the same hope when he writes: "Christian belief may yet become the leading cultural force contributing to the conscious self-creation of the hnman world." For Teilhard religion fixes its gaze not on the past but on the future which offers us the snre promise to make all things new: His concern was to blaze a trail for the new type of christian of his dreams---one in whom love for the task of living here on earth in an evolving world would coincide with a love for Christ, goal and crowning glory of that world; a christian whose vision would be focused upon the future and whose faith would take full account of the world's new dimensions; a christian in whom openness toward all mundane values would be matched with an unconditional commitment to God."~ It is important to note that involvement with the world and commitment to God if properly understood do not produce any dichotomy in man. It rather answers to the dual natnre of man "slime o~ the earth made into the image and likeness of God." ~ Modern psychology and related sciences now show that for mental health it is absolntely necessary to preserve these two in a fine bal-ance. "Moral norms," writes Erich Fromm, "are based upon man's inherent qualities, and their violation results in mental and emotional disintegration." zs If we do succeed in achieving the balance required it will be due not only to knowledge but also to faith and hope and the Holy Spirit. We are in the world not merely to foster evolution at a natural level: "In the life of the individual Christian as well as in the life of the Church as a whole there is an immediate and transcendent relationship to the Person of Christ which is independ~ent of all human ~ Science and Christ, p. 68. " N. M. Wildiers, An Introduction to Teilhard de Chardin (Lon-don, 1968), p. 123. '-'~ Leslie Dewart, op. cit., p. 689. '¯-'~ Wildiers, op. cit., p. 161. .,r Genesis 1:27. = Erich Fromm, Man ]or Hirnsel! (Greenwich, Corm, 1968), p. 17. progress and which cannot be reduced to any mere hu-man energy." .~9 Teilhard's pre6ccupation with his particular point of view and the particular purpose of his synthesis may have led him to understate the radical nature of the Incarna-tion and Redemption as a free gift of God apart from creation. Yet again it may be merely a question of empha-sis. He expressly left it to theologians to think through the implications of his theories for Christian doctrine as a whole. In this connection it would be interesting to ask what Teilhard thought of the religious life, aml how it fits into his world vision. He did not treat of the subject explicitly at any great length but we can gather some of his ideas on the subject, We can state at once that, in spite of many trials from superiors, Teilhard remained faithful to the Society of Jesus and even said: "The faintest idea of a move to leave the Order has never crossed my mind." ~0 He saw fidelity to the Order as the only reasonable course for him. We can go at once to the heart of the matter by stating that the bond of union among men in the final stage of evolution is love, and love is also the pnrpose and the essence of the religious life. According to Teilhard it is only with man that love appears on earth. Sexuality ap-peared first in the evolntionary history of the world as an exclusively physical phenomenon h~ving as its primary function the conservation of the biological species. But with the coming of man sex begins to manifest a spiritual dimension which is ever expanding. The personalizing function of sexual love is becoming more and more prominent. Teilhard uses sexual love in a much wider sense than the merely genital: "Sexual love is rather the personal union in oneness of being achieved by a man and a woman, an interpenetration and constant exchange of thoughts, dreams, affections, and prayers." al He says that there is a general drift of matter towards spirit in sexual love the ideal of which is found in Christ who authenticated celibacy, "a human aspiration that had been maturing in the human soul." :v, Celibacy is the evidence of humanity's ability to affect the transcendence to which it aspires. Speaking of his own witness to this he says: To the full extent of my power, because I am a priest I wish from now on to be the first to become conscious of all that the world loves, pursues and suffers; I want to be the first to seek, ~ Christopher F. Mooney, op. cit,, p. 209. ~Teilhard de Chardin, Letters to Leontine Zanta (London, 1969), p. 33. ~t Charles W. Freible, S.J., "Teilhard, Sexual Love, and Celibacy," R~w~w ro~ R~L~C,~OUS, v. 26 (1967), p. 289. ~'~ Ibid., p. 290. 4- 4- 4- Teiihard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 773 to sympathise and to suffer; the first to open myself out and sacrifice myself--to become more widely human and more nobly of the earth than any of the world's servants.= By his vows he wished to recapture all that was good in love, gold, and independence. The religious therefore, far from being a deserter is the witness to the final end of man's striving, to his aspira-tion for spiritualization and complete Christification of his life. Christ preaches purity, charity, and self-denial-- but what is the specific effect of purity if it is not the concen-tration and sublimation of the manifold powers of the soul, the unification of man in himself? What again does charity effect if not the fusion of multiple individuals in a single body and a single soul, the unification of men among themselves? And what finally does christian self-denial represent, if not the deconcentration of every man in favor of a more perfect and more loved Being, the unification of all in one.~ The religious is precisely the especially chosen to show forth in'his life the joy of the new resurrection to which the whole of humanity tends. Finally, the consummation in glory that mankind awaits is not merely the dream of a distant future. The transformation and divinization of the universe occurs sacramentally in the Mass when the bread and wine rep-resenting mankind and mankind's universe become Christ. The Euchararistic consecration renders present the final victory for mankind which will bring a new heaven and a new earth and Christ will be all in all. The Divine Mih'eu, p. 105. Science and Christ, p. ~4. + + + Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 774 SISTER MARY HUGH CAMPBELL The. Particular Examen-- Touchstone of a Genuinely Apostolic Spirituality There is perhaps today no prayer-category considered so lifeless, so vulnerable to attacks of "formalism," so rejected as a lure of regression into an exclusive and introverted Jesus-and-I existence as is the particular ex-amination of conscience. Yet it held pride of place in a spirituality characterized as one of dynamism, initiative, and filan--that of Ignatius Loyola, a spirituality pecul-iarly suited, it would seem, to attract adherents in our last third of the twentieth century, when man has finally admitted his basic call to be a movement out of himself to serve that brother who has now displaced the sun as the center of his universe. The ideal of Ignatius was first and last apostolic: "To serve Christ through the aid of souls in companionship." 1 And to attain it, "he seemed to count primarily on the examens of conscience, exercises from which he never dispensed." "' One of his early followers, Louis Lallemant, the master of novices who formed Isaac Jogues, echoed Ignatius in his insistence upon the apostolate as the sum-mit of the spiritual life: "The last reach of the highest perfection in this world is zeal for souls." s And to attain this ideal, he prescribed the same "slow work of purifica- 1 Cited by John C. Futrell, S.J., Making an Apostolic Community o] Love (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 14. -"Alexandre Brou, S.J., La spiritualitd de saint lgnace (Paris: Beauchesne, 1928), p. 23. aCited by Francois Courel, S.J., ed., La vie et La doctrine spiri-tuelle du P~re Louis Lallemant (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), p. 25. Subsequent references to Courel are references to his intro-duction; when the work itself is in question, Lallemant will be cited. Sister Hugh is a member o~ the Di-vinity School of St. Louis University; 3825 West Pine; St. Louis, Missouri 63~08. VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 776 tion and discernment." 4 Francis de Sales, accorded new relevance todi~y as having been among the first to sense the need of a spirituality adjusted to life in the secular sphere, himself a product o{ Jesuit training, taught Phil-othea in his Devout I~i[e that the examen, which he called the "spiritual retreat," was "the great heart of de-votion," which on occasion "can supply the lack of all other prayers." '~ Each of these was a man of ~nvolvement; and for each of them Lallemant's dictum held true: the attention he paid to external things, instead of weaken-ing his union witlt God, served rather to strengthen it, because in the last analysis, the equilibrium of the apos-tolic life was a matter of the love which was to be exer-cised in everything. And for each of the three, the partic-ular examen--by whatever name--held primacy of place among spiritual exercises. The word "discernment" is enjoying a new vogue at the moment; it is vaguely sensed that the notion is cen-tral to the spiritual life in a century of acceleration, and that in some nebttlous way it means a form of prayer-in-activity for which many are searching. This is very true. Yet the term has a disciplined precision of meaning: it is the name for the entire, dynamic process of discovering and responding to the actual word of God here and now.~ It is the core of Ignatian spirituality. Within it--and one might add, only within it--"the practice of daily examens of conscience is completely intelligible." ~ A life of discernment is one in which one's core experi-ence of self-identity as openness to Christ personally known is the ground of all his conscious choices. Each significant decision is made after prayer and a careful weighing of all available evidence (a vahtable element of tire latter being often the counsel of another), and con-firmed--~ tlways, of course, in faith--by the peace which testifies to its affinity with one's primordial experience of being possessed by Christ. Gradually even lesser decisions are sttccessively, almost instinctively, submitted to the same process of alignment until one ends by finding Christ everywhere, as willing and accepting this concrete service of love. Discernment is not ttnderstood, however, as the sum toted of prayer: moments of distancing from the human situation are essential if one is to give expres-sion to his faith-experience of union with Christ, an ex-pression without which it cannot know new illumination or deepening. Only in this way can he be assured of ~ Courel, Vie, p. 24. '~ Cited by Aloys Pottier, S.J., Le P. Louis Lallemant et les grands spirituels de son temps (Paris: Tequi, 1928), pp. 342 f. passim. 6John C. Futrcll, S.J., lgnatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), pp. 47-52. r Ibid., p. 81. finding Christ in more ambiguous choices, and in those even more painful decisions in which he discerns the paradox of absurdity to be the condition for his finding him. The increasing incalculability, if one may so term it, of man's evolving universe might alone render discernment a delicate, even a hazardous, process. Personal notes of Ignatius reveal the prolonged tension which important decisions produced in him, and the slow, painful groping for certitude which followed them. Yet difficult as these were, he very realistically saw that man had within him sources of darkness which could render any discernment at all impossible. Another element was necessary before one could hope to make decisions in the clarity of truth: personal freedom from anything that could close him to the light. As Lallemant, who followed him, was later to call it, the other pole of discernment was "the study of purity of heart." 8 An illuminating study might result from a search into the imagery by which saints and theologians throughout the ages have inscaped man's frightening potency for evil. Olier's "stagnant pool," Marmion's "depth of our way-wardness," Rahner's "deadly abyss of [utility"--all alike point to a reality which it is impossible to dismiss. Lalla-anant wrote very candidly of the "muddy well" in which "a multitude of desires are unceasingly fermenting," a well "full of false ideas and erroneous judgments." ~ To assign to each of these its local habitation and its name-- to say them as they are in us--is the cotmterpoise of discernment, and an exercise at least as painful as the former. Examination of conscience, then, is a proviso, a sine qua non. And Lallemant recognized that "the heart re-coils from nothing so much as this search and scrutiny. all the powers of our soul are disordered beyond measure, and we do not wish to know it, because the knowledge is humiliating to us." 10 To dispense with it is, as P. de Ponlevoy incisively saw, to rester darts le vague.11 On the contrary, one who "submits to the real" has given up the dreams which kept him marking time, because he finally found the real to be truer and less deceiving than dreams,v' Seen in this light the examen becomes a disci-pline of authenticity, a sharpening of the pole of purity of heart which ensures gentfineness of docility to the Spirit. Lallemant saw a direct correlation between super- Courel, Vie, p. 81. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 140. Ibid., pp. 141-2. Cited by Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 344. a~Antoine Delchard, S.J., "L'filection darts la vie quotidienne," Christus, v. 14 (1958), pp. 206-19 passim. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME ,~0, 1971 4" 4" 4" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 778 ficial examens and lack of sensitiveness tt~ the guidance of the Spirit; on the other hand, he was convinced that "they who have applied themselves for three or four years to watch over their interior, a.ud have made some prog-ress in this holy exercise, know already how to treat a multitude of cases with address and absence of all rash judgment." 1.s It would be difficult to label as "formalism" the exigen-cies of Lallemant's asceticism: "guard of one's heart; deep and prolonged examens; progressive purifications contin-ued for years." 14 He defined purity of heart to mean "having nothing therein which is in however small a degree opposed to God and the operation of His grace." 1.5 And he went so far as to say that this was the exercise of the spiritual life against which the spirit of evil directed most opposition. He urged those under his charge to guard themselves carefully from any deliberate resistance to the Spirit by venial sin, to learn to recognize the first disorderly movements of their hearts, to watch over and regulate their thoughts, so as to recognize the inspirations of God--so as to be able, in other words, clearly to discern the word of God in the concrete situa-tions which presented themselves. He declared that "we never have vices or imperfections without at the same time having false judgments and false ideas." a0 And yet he insisted that this work of moving toward ever greater openness and freedom be done calmly, and especially that it be joined to a deep devotion to the person of Christ: examination was never to become the cult of itself. Such constant, increasingly more honest surveillance is taxing; he admitted this. Actually, in the words of those he directed, "he required nothing else ]rom us but this constant attention." His ultimate counsel was that of Christ: Vigilate--watch; until n~thing should escape one's attention, until the inner roots from which egotism took its rise were destroyed. He expected, in the end, spontaneity without strain, sureness of discernment, readiness, in the service of souls, for the cross. And among those who listened, noted, and demanded of himself this most to be dreaded of all disciplines, of all confronta-tions, was Isaac Jogues. Many have been alienated from the exercise because they conceived the medium as the message; the little check-list of "G's," familiar from the Exercises, was iso-lated from the spirit--so absolutely aware of the needs of his own temperament, yet so absolutely respectful of the freedom of others--of the Basque soldier who drew it up Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 262. Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 168. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 80. Ibid., p. 101. for his own searing symbols of an utterly blunt honesty with himself. His strategy had the labored realism of one for whom the calculated small gains of military planning had been a fact of daily experience; and if his proposed concentration upon one fault at a time has impressed many as me.chanistic and rigid, it has been suggested that their preference for prolonging sterile efforts endlessly is hardly less painful.17 And Ravignan notes, in this connec-tion, "How strong one is, when he concentrates all his energy in unity. To think of only one thing, wish only one thing, do, finally, only one thing is the secret of all power." 18 And in the mind of Ignatius, this "one thing" was response in freedom to the word one had clearly discerned. In the end, it had become quite simply his life. No less than the check-list, the well-known "five points" of the two daily examens have been misunder-stood and exteriorized. Ignatius saw three different times of day and two examinations to be involved when he advocated the practice; but the laconic outline in which he explains them must be seen in the light of his final "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," especially in its close where he sees God as a fountain from which all goodness pours out on him, a light in which everything bathes. Gerard Manley Hopkins has, in an unfinished lyric, given rich expression to Ignatius' simple prose: Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty glow. What I know of thee I bless, As acknowledging thy stress On my being and as seeing Something of thy holiness . '~ This is why the first point is a prayer of gratitude for the goodness and forgiveness which are man's twofold debt. Louis du Pont has probed the familiar method in order to discover its marrow: the optimism which pre-scribed gratitude first, thus guarding against sadness; the realism of seeing that the memory is so unfaithful, the mind so darkened, and the will so loveless that there is deep need of prayer for light. The examination itself, the third point, is a sincere acknowledgment of good, where this is recognized; and in the admission of sin or failure there is a counsel to do this in a spirit of the untranslata-ble douceur--that gentleness which refrains from turning bitter reproaches against itself, but rather grieves over the H. Pinard de la Boullaye, S.J., La spiritualitd ignatienne (Paris: Plon, 1949). Cited by Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 93. W. H. Gardner and N. H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Oxford University, 1970), n. 155, p. 194. + + Particular E~amen VOLUME 30, 1971 779 + ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 780 injury to One who has poured himself out, as fountain and light, in such generous giving. After the expression of perfect sorrow, one is urged in a fifth point to an efficacious resolution--so, practical as to foresee and so circumvent future failure. Previsioned when rising, this exercise is to be made at two different times of the day--at noon, and again after the evening meal,.and this in addition to a final, general examination made before retiring. Such a discipline can only confirm the fact that, throughout the Exercises, Ig-natius "supposes that one knows where he is going and wants to get there, and is ready to take the best means, then to examine those which present themselves, to weigh them, to choose them with knowledge of the cause." 20 In a word, lie s~pposed that one was ready to discern, among many means, that one whose cause was the inspi-ration of the Spirit; through long experience with his own peculiar cast of egotism, he would swiftly dismiss false weights. And those who followed this profound psy-chologist- saint did know where they were going, and did want to get there: the summit of apostolic zeal. Such a man as Claude de la Colombi~re, to take a single exam-ple, vowed never to pass from one occasion to another without a backward-forward look: from self-scrutiny to discernment. Again, from these particular exercises, described as j;ournalier, Ignatius never dispensed: "The importance accorded these examens is the touchstone of truly igna-tian spirituality." '-'x And the ~ournalier--"daily"--has been interpreted by some as actually occupying the whole day. For such a man as Lallemant, it actually did. He described as one of the greatest of all graces that of being "SO watchful that the least irregular movement rising in the heart is perceived and immediately corrected, so that in the space of a week, for example, we should perform very few external or internal acts of which grace is not the principle."'-'" Particular examen and discernment thus become arsis and thesis of a single life, until finally "some have no need of making a particular examen, be-cause they no sooner commit the least fault than they are immediately reproved for it and made aware of it; for they walk always in the light o~ the Holy Spirit, who is their guide. Such persons are rare, and they make a par-ticular examen, so to say, out of everything." 2~ All the energies of the person are concentrated in a single care not to sully the light which ponrs into and then from him, an instrument entirely at the service of Christ. Such ~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 83. .-t Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 335. = Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 228. '-"~ Ibid., p. 229. men have reached that fullness of the apostolate which is the summit of the spiritual life, discerning as they do in entire freedom that which is most conducive to the reign of God. So conceived, the examen is possible under an infinite number of forms; endlessly supple, it can be adapted to a variety of conceptual, cultural, and temperamental differ-ences. But always it is a sincere and considered pursuit of an ideal which is one's own most personal name given him by God: "The particular examen, practiced by a soul which has begun to climb, is sacrifice which has reached the stage of being one's rule of life." ,.,4 Far from having become "irrelevant" in spiritualities vowed to the genu-ine only, it is rather the infallible touchstone of their authenticity. -"~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 96. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME 30, 1971 78] JAMES C. FLECK, S.J. The Israeli Kibbutz and the Catholic Religious. Community: A Study of Parallel Communal Life Styles j. c. Fleck, S.J., lives at Apartment 208; 150 Driveway; Ottawa, Canada. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The kibbutz movement in Israel consits of about 250 agricultural-industrial collectives. They have a popula-tion of 90,000, slightly tinder 4% of the Jewish popula-tion in the State of Israel. This population includes full members (Jewish men and women, nearly all married, who have completed their military service and have been accepted by the kibbutz after a trial period of a year or two), the children of the kibbutz members, selected lead-ers of the Jewish youth movement abroad who plan even-tually to join a kibbutz, U1pan students (predominantly Jewish) who combine study and work on the kibbutz for periods ranging from six months to a year, and volun-teers (predominantly non-Jewish) who volunteer to work on the kibbutz for at least a month in return for room, board, and a very small amount of spending money. The first kibbutz was founded in Israel in 1909. The largest period of growth was prior to and immediately after the Second World War. In this period the kibbutz population represented nearly 10% of the nation. In the past fifteen years there has been no significant growth in the number of kibbutzim. The slightly increasing num-bers of kibbutzniks is accounted for primarily by internal growth, due to an increasing average family size. There are four federations to which nearly all kib-butzim belong. Each one is delineated by the political party to which it is or was affiliated. One, the smallest federation comprising 4,000 members (3% of the total kibbutz population), is religious, consisting of practicing Orthodox Jews. The other kibbutz federations shade fi'om non-religious to anti-religious. The land tilled by the kibbutzim is owned by the Is-raeli government throngh the Jewish National Fund. The original physical plant is financed by the govern-ment on low-interest long-term loans. When a kibbutz becomes operationally profitable it pays regular corpora-tion taxes. In addition, the kibbutz must pay a national consumption tax on the living expenditures of its mem-bers comparable to the personal income tax paid by the general public. The purpose of this study is to examine parallels in the life style between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious orders. Wbile the common life in the two insti-tutions are often merely analogous, they are in many instances equivalent. Thus, a knowledge of the kibbutz movement can provide valuable insights in examining religious orders. The Kibbutz as a Religious Sect The basic motivating factors that built the kibbutz movement are: (l) Zionism, (2) Marxism, (3) the German Youth (Wandervogel) Movement. The founders of the kibbutz movement rejected the religion, the life style, the family structure, and the business interests of the Euro-pean Jewish community of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Wandervogel Movement fostered a spirit of youth peer group identity, a desire to return to nature, and a spirit of travel and adventure. Marx offered a model of productive and consumptive collectivism in a secular society. Zionism offered an escape from European anti-semitism and a positive aspiration of nation-building.~ The Pristine "'Religious" Values Based on the Boy Scouts, the Wandervogel Movement had basic principles which were incorporated into the kibbutz ideology. They include: truth, loyalty, brother-hood, dependability, a love of nature, obedience to the group, joy in living, generosity in work, courage, and purity in tbougbt, word, and deed. This latter was inter-preted to mean opposition to drinking, smoking, and sex-ual relationships. The Youth Movement believed all the pettiness and sordidness of human behavior was a func- ~ Melford E. Spiro. Kibbutz, Venture in Utopia, New York, pp. 44, 48, 175 ft. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 783 ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 784 tion of city living with its concomitant luxuries and false conventions." Consequently the early kibbutz movement was marked by asceticism. There was a rejection of material comfort, abstinence from alcohol and tobacco, no "ball room" (lancing, no motion pictures, simple housing and cloth-ing, no children (since they would pnt a financial burden on the community), communal property, common toilets and showers, dormitories, common dining hall, simple and inexpensive food, an emphasis on hard physical work and menial tasks. The Faith of the Kibbutz Marxism is the religion of the kibbutz. The basic maxim is: "From each according to his ability; to each according to his need." Initially the kibbntzniks hoped to find a form of collective salvation in withdrawal from the world and the re-establishing of a microcosm o{ the per-fect society based on fellowship. It next blossomed into a militant sect devoted to converting the world.:~ Today the kibbutz movement has returned to its pristine withdrawal state of conversion by witness. Karl Marx has been the prophet for this faith. His writings served as intellectnal fare, inspiration, sacred and therefore infallible norms.4 The attitude of the So-viet Union vis-a-vis Israel has had the effect of diluting kibbutz Marxism. Bnt in the early years Marx was dog-matic truth. Human failings could be tolerated, but not political differences. Even today, deviations from either basic Marxist concepts or pristine kibbutz ideals offer occasions for schisms and deep polarizations within a par-ticular kibbntz. Faihlre of a given kibbutz to vote "cor-rectly" in a national election is cause for its ejection from the basic kibbutz federation and political party to which it is allied. The Vows Chastity--While there is no binding force of conscience eqnivalent to the traditional religious vows, membership in a kibbutz implies a permanent but not binding commit-ment. Members are free to leave if they lose their "voca-tion," and their departure is mourned in the same way a religious regrets the departnre of a close friend from the Order. The "apostate," however, is welcomed back if he wishes to return. But with this exception of personal freedom for departure, permanent commitment to the group ideal is a sine qua non for a happy kibbutz life. The sexual idealism in the kibbntz movement has II)id., p. 43. Ibid., p. 180. Ibid., p. 184. never been consistent. The Boy Scout concept of purity derives from the Christian ideals of its European and American proponents. The Jewish founders of the kib-butz movement experienced tiffs value as a rejection of the romantic sexual conduct of the European society o~ their youth. They wanted to change the false sexual mo-rality of the city, the patriarchal authority of the male, the dependence of the child on his father, and the subjec-tion of women.~ The sense of "organic community" that the early kib-butzniks experienced as young men and women is related to their freedom from the restrictions imposed upon sex-uality by their contemporary society. They practiced a trial and error, sexual code that included polygyny and polyandry. Mating was entered into at will. But as the original founders aged, their sexual attitudes have be-come surprisingly conventional.6 Pre-marital sex among the school children is actively discouraged. Marriage is today a formal, and often religious, event. Patriarchal ties have returned. The relative affluence of the kibbutzim has ended the era of few or no offspring. This change has been augmented by the population growth stimulus instituted by the Israeli government in response to military manpower requirements connected with national security. Yet casual sex has no moral stigma within kibbutz life, and abortion requests are routinely handled by the kib-butz medical committee. These seeming contradictory ex-periences can be understood only in the context of the general Jewish belief that sexuality is a personal matter, not one of group concern, unless the sexual activity has consequences affecting the community. The Spartan attitude toward sexual abstinence ended when the young men and women who founded the kib-butzim experienced the eroticism engendered by "organic community." This youthful abandon has subsequently matured into a conventional sex-marriage code no differ-ent from that of the general Israeli populace. And with the lack of privacy in the kibbutz as well as the dispropor-tionate amount of social damage that infidelity wreaks in a small community, kibbutz sexnal morality approximates that of any small village. Poverty--Just as sexual morality has had an erratic path in the kibbutz history, so too their attitude toward the possession of material goods. The pristine attitude of the founders was .essentially a negative reaction to the bour-geois mentality of their forefathers in the Jewish communi-ties of Enrope. Ostracized in many instances by the Gentile majority, the Jew was unable to compete for social and n Ibid., p. 54. ~ Ibid., p. 110-117. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLU~E 30, 1971 785 J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 economic prestige with his non-Jewish counterparts. As a result, the ghetto Jew attained personal ego satisfactions in business acumen, especially in areas connected with money where traditional Christian restrictions on usury opened up opportunities. Intellectual pursuits leading to l~rominent positions in the professions were a later development of the 19th and 20th centuries. But the possession of land and agricultural interests were not part of the self-image of the pre-Israel Jew. The rejection of materialism and capitalism are an integral part of the developing kibbutz ideal. The found-ers, were, almost without exception, intellectuals. The idealization of common labor was for them a cultural revolution. Raised in a tradition of prestige and aspira-tion for upward mobility in society, they deliberately chose the reverse. Instead of aspiring to "rise" in the social ladder, they chose to "descend." 7 Having to do without material possessions was both a concomitant of this conscious decision and a result of it. The early kibbutzniks had what Melford Spiro calls "two moral principles." These were (1) the sacral nature of work and (2) the communal possession of property. Labor was to be a uniquely creative act and an ultimate value. Through labor man would become one with himself, with society, with nature.8 The early kibbutzniks experienced this sacral nature of work in their conquest of the desert and the swamps which were the only lands made available to them by the Arab landowners prior to 1948. Those kibbutzim estab-lished after Israel became a State were often located in similar agriculturally disadvantaged areas for strategic reasons. Personal sacrifice and "doing without" were per-sonal virtues that made possible the economic success of the group effort. All personal aspirations and creature comforts had to be subordinated to the common good. With the exception of a few struggling new kibbutzim along the post-1967 borders, this period of sacrifice has passed. Although limits on the amount of water that can be used for cultivation and a crop surplus condition in Israeli agriculture have imposed ceilings on land use, many collectives are maintaining and increasing profita-bility by operating factories which in turn have increased the kibbutz standard of living. The communal facilities that were an economic necessity in the pioneer era have given away to luxury apartments, a private social life, advanced education, extended vacations, and other phe-nomena related to economic well-being. Ideological ascet-icism is not an operative principle in contemporary kib-butz life. Not surprisingly, a great number of the contem- 7 Ibid., p. 14. s Ibid., p. 12. porary problems in the kibbutz movement stem from the vast discrepancy between the physical privations of the early kibbntzim and the high standard of living and expec-tations of the present members. Obedience--In a first glimpse of the organizational strncture of a kibbutz, one would discern little there that reflects the monarchical authority structnre that pervades both Catholic ecclesiastical organizations and the religious orders. The ideal of the kibbutz is total democracy. Execu-tive authority is a delegated power, revocable, and subject to a constant change of personnel. The executive branch functions only to implement group decisions. Each indi-vidual kibbutz is essentially autonomous from the federa-tion to which it belongs. The officers of the federation have no direct antbority over the activities of any mem-ber kibbutz. All decisions are made at the local level by vote and the majority opinion is binding on tbe minor-ity. But no majority is irrevocable. The minority may campaign for a reversal. There is a minority compliance "by necessity" but nothing resembling the "submission of tile understanding." Tile will of the majority has to be obeyed for pragmatic reasons, to preserve the common good. But any decision can be, and often is, reversed. Even certain "essentials" of the founders can be changed if the kibbutz members no longer consider them a cur-rent value, or if the life of the kibbutz itself is at stake by continued adherence to an outdated fundamental princi-ple. The typical kibbutz is closer to the Benedictine model of religions life than to the Jesuit form. Membership in a particular kibbutz is akin to monastic stability. The his-toric connection between the monastery and its fields is similar to the main kibbntz economic enterprise. The kibbutz, like the monastery, has a self-contained cultural environment; library, music, beautification of the grounds, locally produced music and entertainment, and the chapter. Unlike the monastic uadition, no kibbutz has a perma-nent official like that of a life-tenured abbot. Nor do office holders have the long terms allowed by canon law. The kibbutz executive personnel pool is rotated from one ex-ecutive task to another with short interim periods as com-mon laborers. Executive efficiency is somewhat reduced by such rapid turnovers, but the movement prefers this to an entrenched hierarchy. Fnrther, it increases the partici-pation of the membership in decision-making operations of the kibbutz. The nsual term for a kibbutz office is one year.° For a few highly specialized tasks, for example, the treasurer, it runs two years, no more. ~ Ibid., p. 78; see Dan Leon, The Kibbutz, a New Way of Life, Oxford, 1969. 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 787 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '788 In a remarkable number of ways the kibbutz resembles traditional Catholic religious life. A messianic ideological basis of membership is parallel to both.Being a kibbutz-nik is "a way of life" comparable to a religious vocation. The inOividual is expected at times to sacrifice his per-sonal ambitions and opportunities to the group needs. The members' meeting has many of the aspects of a com-munity liturgy, as do the secular celebrations in the kib-butz of the national and religious holidays. Each kibbutz follows a common style of life and the kibbutz is often referred to as an extended family. Aspirants must try out the life and be accepted. They usually must dispose of their material wealth upon admission. There is security for the ill and the infirm. Members are not rewarded economically for their productivity or profitability. The federation to which each kibbutz belongs resem-bles to some extent the province of the religious order. Recruiting of youth leaders, new members, Ulpan stu-dents and vohlnteers are bandied at tbe central level as are contacts with the government and the army. The federation has an internal tax system to equalize income discrepancies between richer and poorer kibbutzim. Most federations have produced a model constitution for their member kibbutzim. Each kibbutz is taxed a number of its members to staff federation offices and overseas re-cruiting posts (missions). The federation, in union with the national trade union, handles both buying and sell-ing cooperatives, runs research centers and regional high schools for kibbntz children.1° Today the federations have joined toget_her to found a centralized kibbutz uni-versity to provide for the increasing number of kibbutz youth who want both a university education and an envi-ronment in which their kibbutz values will be preserved. The arguments used for establishing this new educational effort are ahnost identical to those used in the 19th and 20tb centuries for Catholic high schools and universities. Charity Fraternal love, over and above its function as a crite-rion for true Christianity, has been considered a hallmark of religious life, and a sine qua non of common life. In the "organic community" which the founders of the kib-butzim experienced in their pioneer days in Israel, this same basic group fellowship and fraternal love was pres-ent. The movement was small and each person knew every other member well. They were economically and socially interdependent. Their lives depended on mutual security. They were, as a group, alone in a foreign and (langerous land, cnt off from outside aid. Their bond of friendship was solidified in a common ideology, in oppo-a" Op. cir., Leon, p. 158. sition to the false value system of the world, and in a common enemy, the Arab. These same three basic princi-ples have beeu present in every religious order; some concrete vision of Christianity conceived by their found-ers, the false value system of a pagan or barely Christian world, and the enemy, successively the devil, the pagan Romans, and finally heretics. The passage of time and aging has effected major changes in the first ardor of the kibbutzniks, as it has on the members of many long established religious orders. One kibbutznik reported to Spiro: "The evening meetings, (lances and song, group conversation, and the sharing of experiences--these are the phenomena of youth. The retirement to their own rooms and the substi-tution of private for group experiences is not the result of the influx of stangers . It represents . an inevitable retreat on the part of middle-aged people from the group-centered activities of an adolescent youth move-ment, to interests which are more congenial to their own age--children, friends, and personal concerns." ~x The kibbutz movement has faced up to a reality which hitherto has destroyed practically every ntopian society ever attempted by man, except possibly the Catholic reli-gious orders, the inability to re-create a new man in the institutiug of a new way of life?e Some of the larger kibbutzim have nearly 2000 residents. Only a handful are less than 100. Universal friendship is obviously impossi-ble. Deep interpersonal relationships are cuhivated be-tween husband, wife, and their immediate family. Other close friendships are built around those in neighboring apartments or those whom they meet in work fnnctions. Relationships to other kibbutzniks is functional not per-sonal. Nor does the kibbutz attempt to abolish natural indi-vidual aggressive tendencies. It merely channels them into socially acceptable substitntes. Gossip and petty criti-cism abound. Quarreling, but no physical violence, is common. Skits at community entertainments satirize non-conformists. Aggression is channeled into pride in one's own family, work ability, success of one's economic branch in the kibbutz, and participation in national politics?:~ If universal charity were an essential prerequi-site for the successful functioning of kibbutz society, the movement would have failed long ago. The system has been devised to operate without it, subordinating indi-vidualism to the common good, and substituting for char-ity the personal involvement of each kibbutznik in group decision making. Op. cit., Spiro, p. 216. Ibid., p. 236, 103. Ibid., p. 103-107. + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 789 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 Generation Gap One of the "essentials" of the early kibbutz movement was the communal raising of children. Immediately after birth, the child was placed with his peers and raised by a community appointed nurse. This same system was fol-lowed throughout childhood. Boys and girls of the various kibbutz parents were raised as brothers and sisters. This accounts for the lack of a normal amount of pre-marital sexual activity among young people who live in close proximity even after puberty. Sex activity between boys and girls of the same age groui~ would be incest, an almost unheard of problem in a kibbutz. However, as the young people raised in this communal manner have returned to their kibbutz as full adult members, they have generally asked for a major change in the system. They want to raise their own children at home. Throughout the entire kibbutz movement this issue has been raised. In every federation except the one which is most Marxist-oriented the young people have endetl the absohlte commtmal rearing of the children, Since the young couples were ntu.nerically outnumbered, the process by which they won over the majority opposed to their demands for a revolutionary change proves en-lightening. The kibbutz at Kefar Blum recently under-went such an experience.~4 When the young people pro-posed this radical change they were voted down by an 80-20% vote. When the results were tabulated the young people decided they would leave this kibbutz and found one of their own with their rules. This would eventually lead to the death by attrition of the older kibbutz. Recog-nizing this, the older members formed reconciliation committees designed to keep up the hopes of the young and change the minds of the old. A new vote was taken several weeks after the intial setback. This time the youngster's proposal won by an 80-20 vote. As the government is anxious to form new kibbutzim in border areas, young Israelis can easily become founders of a new kibbutz, sharing the same challenges and oppor-tunities their elders had in the pioneer years. To over-come this possible source of defection of younger mem-bers, most kibbutzim practice rapid advancement of tal-ented young people into positions of responsibility. There is no waiting for years while the entrenched old guard dies off before the young people can achieve posi-tions of authority and adopt new policies in keeping with the needs of the clay. James c. Fleck, s.J., private notes taken during a study of the kibbntz movement, Israel, October-November, 1970. Employment outside the Kibbutz This is a growing phenomenon in the kibbutz move-ment paralleled by an increasing number of religious men and women employed in apostolic work and employ-ment not part of a corporate apostolate. For a kibbutz member to undertake such work he must have commu-nity approval. While many working outside the kibbutz are employed in various federation projects, an increasing number are engaged in "secular" activity, outside indus-try, government, and teaching. Their salary is either paid directly to the kibbotz or turned in to the kibbntz treas-nrer by the individual. One factor not present in snch kibbutz outside employ-ment is the gradual diminishing interest of the individual in his collective during the months and years the man may be working outside the kibbutz. Since Israel is very small, the outside employee almost always lives on the kibbutz with his family and returns there after work. In the case of those stationed in more remote sections of the country, or working in the government or in the army, they return to the kibbutz each Friday night on the Sab-bath eve. This same holds true of kibbutz students study-ing at the university or the technical institute. The mem-bers do not endanger their commitment to the collective way of life by prolonged absence from their kibbutz. Use o~ Money The strictness of control over independent use of money varies according to which federation the kibbutz is affiliated with. Ha Artzi, the most Marxist, is also the strictest. No one may possess any outside money nor is there an internal money system. The other federations are more flexible. In some each member is paid "script" or "kibbutz money" each month to use in lieu of Israeli currency at the kibbutz store for personal items. In others the members have a charge accotmt credited against a monthly allowance. The Ha .drtzi kibbutzim also require all new members to dispose of all property and money they possess after the intitial trial period. Other kibbutzim permit mem-bers to retain previously acquired wealth and even use the money independently of the kibbutz so long as the member does not use any of the money for improving his own life style in the kibbutz. Some demand that members deposit such funds with the kibbutz on a non-interest bearing basis. The money is returned if the new member ever leaves the kibbutz. In most kibbutzim today individual members are given a monthly credit covering items over which he may exer- 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30~ 1971 791 4. 4. 4. J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 792 cise individual discretion, such as clothes, a household allowance, food for one's apartment, and the annual va-cation. In most instances the individual can make substi-tutions that better reflect his own tastes, more money for vacation and less clothes for examples. Housing In the early kibbutz days housing was primitive and inadequate. Many members lived in tents even during the winter months. Toilet and shower facilities were to-tally communal and produced a camaradarie not unlike that of army barracks life or that in athletic teams. Today the norm in most kibbutzim is a 2½ room apart-ment for all married members which usually includes a modern bathroom and also a kitchenette. As individual families are allowed to raise their own children this hous-ing allocation will have to be increased depending on the size of each f;imily, end~mgering the traditional equality of housing facilities. The newest apartments are allocated on a seniority basis which takes into account both the age of the member and the number of years he has belonged to the kibbutz. Expulsion Like any other communal society, on occasions mem-bers whose activities or ideas are not compatible with the group ideal are expelled from membership hy the kib-butz voting at a weekly meeting. Since most dissidents leave freely, expulsions are rare and several kibbutzim report that they are willing to allow expelled members to 'eturn after a probationary period. This tolerance is probably necessary in a communal society where the hus-band and a wife are both members of the kibbutz and when only one of them is expelled from membership. While normally the couple would leave together after expulsion proceedings, it is not unknown for one member to stay on alone since the remaining member's rights are not affected by the expulsion of the spouse. Vohtntary Departures The abandonment of a kibbutz "vocation" almost al-ways involves dissatisfaction on the part of the wife. As women usually work in the institutional housekeeping tasks, they enjoy the least modal satisfaction in their daily work. In many instances, too, the wife has come from outside the kibbutz movement, having married a kibbutz boy she met in the army. Spiro found that nearly every man leaving a kibbutz is prompted by his wife who ulti-mately prewfils in convincing her husband to leave.1'~ '~ Op. cit., Spiro, p. 223. Automobiles There are relatively few automobiles in a kibbutz car pool, since most of the motor vehicles are used for farm work. While most of the equipment consists of trucks and tractors, there are usually several private cars for officials whose work takes them into the city and for those mem-bers working outside the kibbutz. When not being used for official business, these cars are available, theoretically, for common use. Some abuses have been reported in the area of private possessiveness by those assigned private cars, but there seems to be no. widespread dissatisfaction. This is attributable in part to the convenience of public transportation throughout the country as well as the kib-bntz tradition of attending outside social functions as groups, transported by trucks fitted out with temporary seats, When an individual does have the use of a commu-nity car he is charged a mileage fee. Each member is allocated an annual kilometer allowance. He may pool this with other couples for extended trips and usually may transfer other credits from his monthly allowance toward a larger mileage usage of the private car. Mileage is charged only against personal use of the car, not for travel on kibbutz business. Clothing The federation Ha drtzi follows a policy of specifying in detail the clothes members may receive each year. A man gets a coat once every five years; a pair of pants, sweater, or jacket every year; a shirt every year. These rations are for Sabbath or dress clothes. Work clothes and shoes are issued as needed. The kibbutzim of the other federations normally assign a cash allowance for clothing, permitting the members to decide for themselves the kind of clothing they prefer. In the early days of the kibbutz movement each kib-butz had a common stock of clothing. The clothing was distributed without regard to sizes and washed without laundry marks. Each person wore what chance provided. But variations in size presented insuperable problems. The system was changed to grant each member personal possession of his own clothing. Radio and TV At first every kibbutz had a communal radio room. But as radios became cheaper, more and more members re-ceived them as gifts and kept the radios for their own private apartments. Today, a radio is considered a per-sonal item. Now there is in each kibbutz a TV room. As TV has become a part of the Israeli cnlture attendance in the TV + + + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 793 4" 4" ~. C. Fleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 794 lounge is large. Bnt the limited broadcasting schedule and restriction of available channels has not yet made ¯ selection of the program to be watched a major commu-nity concern. There is, nonetheless, growing pressure for permitting members to have their own TV sets in their private apartments. Illness, Old Age, Death All kibbutzniks are covered tinder the national health service. In case of extraordinary expenses, such as special-ized foreign medical treatment, the kibbutz pays all costs for its members. In one sitnation recently at kibbutz Kefar Blum where open heart surgery bad to be per-formed in the United States on the daughter of one mem-ber and the kibbutz income was below normal, the ment-bets voted to meet the high surgical costs by voting out the annual household improvements and vacations and to substantially rednce the cigarette expenditures. Women are given rednced working hours during preg-nancy, and the required daily hours of work are progres-sively reduced as members age. But no one, except the infirm, is every really retired. Every member, as long as he lives, is expected to remain economically productive to the extent that his health allows. This minimum may be simply the caring for the roses in front of his apartment, but it is expected. Recently many kibbutzim have established actuarial funds to provide cash income for members during their old age. There are two reasons: (1) they believe there is a psychological need for infirm and retired people to feel that they are not a financial drain on the younger mem-bers; (2) there is concern over a possible future age imbal-ance. Since every member is always free to leave, some internal crisis in the kibbutz conld result some day in all the younger and productive members leaving the kibbutz, thus depriving the aged of the "living social security" provided by the younger members. At death members are buried simply in the kibbutz cemetery. Luxuries The tents and the tar-paper shacks that once housed the kibbutzniks have given way to modern concrete apart-ments, some with air-conditioning. The housing and fur-nishings for the average kibbutznik compare favorably with those of comparably skilled workmen in Israel's cit-ies. Depending on tastes and family skills, some kibbutz apartments approach lfigb fashion in their appearance. The women have modern stoves and refrigerators to feed their families at home when they wish. There are, as yet, no private telephones, TV, or automobiles. Work Tasks Ill general, inembers are allowed and encouraged to work in the particular department that they like best. The actual assignment is made by the work manager, but great care goes into making sure each member is happy. ~,'Vork assignments, like everything else in the kib-butz, is subject to the scrutiny of the weekly meeting. Assignment to disliked tasks sometimes has to be made by collective action. The individual assigned to such is expected to subordinate his own wishes to those of the community. In most cases the onerous jobs are assigned for short periods of time and given to a wide segment of the membership. Some tasks, such as kitchen clean-up and waiting table, are so universally disliked they have to be allotted in strict rotation. Candidates [or membership, tile U/pan students, and the temporary volunteers are almost always assigned to those tasks the regular members most dislike. Committees The Executive is a committee consisting of those mem-bers holding key administrative jobs and some "ministers without portfolio." The term of office on the Executive coincides with the term of their administrative job, one or two years at most. Tile Executive consists of six or seven members. These members are drawn from a pool of the acknowledged leaders in the kibbutz who rotate in and Out Of the more important leadership posts. Besides this top executive committee, there are myriad others covering every aspect of kibbutz life. Approxi- ~nately 50% of the members of a kibbutz are serving on some committee at any given time. Over a three year span, practically 100% of the membership participates in some committee work. There are a few who have opted out of this participatory democracy and refuse to serve on any committee. These few have narrowed their kibbutz lives to their work and their immediate family.~ The Apostolate The kibbutz serves two specific economic functions. It is both a commtmal productive society and a communal consumptive society. These two functions are coalesced into one organic community. There is in Israel another type of collective called the Moshave, where there is a communal productive system but private ownership in the consumption area. But for the kibbutznik the Marx-ist axiom "from each according to his ability and to each according to his need" dictates that their communal so- ~" Up. cit., Leon, p. 67. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 795 + + + J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 ciety must combine the collective control of both produc-tion and consumption. Kibbutzim have been tried in the past in the cities where the members worked totally in outside industry and the kibbutz was formed primarily as a consumption society. Every attempt along this line has failed. There is in Jerusalem at this time a group who are hoping to organize a commune of professional people as a consump-tive kibbutz. But kibbutzniks do not expect this move-ment to succeed. They view the total integration of the community into both production and consumption as necessary for the survival of community life. The kibbutz in Israel is primarily an agricultural eco-nomic movement. The success of this movement in at-tracting and holding members can be attributed to the historical conditions which led the original founders to abandon the metropolises of Europe. They became en-chanted with nature, an enchantment which anyone who has ever had a hackyard vegetable garden or even a flower pbt in a window will understand. The grower as well as what is grown becomes in some psychological way a part of the basic life cycle of nature. Akin to this is the psychic reward a teacher sometimes feels as he watches his students grow and mature. The farmer, and to some ex-tent the teacher, become united to the invisible power of life itself. In recent years the kibbutz movement has added facto-ries to increase the standard of living, otherwise limited by crop quotas and water restrictions. These factories also provide a more satisfactory employment for those mem-bers technically inclined who would otherwise abandon the farm life of the kibbutz for industrial employment in the city. There are, however, fewer modal satisfactions in this type of work. Marx and a host of other analysts have noted the inherent alienation process at work in the fac-tory system. To some extent the kibbutz factories have disproved Marx's theory that this ~ense of alienation ex-perienced by factory workers can be overcome by com-munal ownership. Like the disliked jobs in the kitchen, most dull assembly line duties must be filled with hired casual labor or low cost volunteers. The External Enemy In traditional Catholic terminology the enemy of Christianity and therefore of Catholic religious orders was the world, the flesh, and the devil. In each era these primordial forces are concretized into existential realities. As such they are a motive for both joining and remaining a member of a religious order. It should be noted that this is a negative motive, and almost always found in conjunction with a positive aspect, namely the apostolate. The kibbutz movement has had equiwdent motivation: anti-semitism, the European bourgeois society, capitalism, the false wdue system of the city, Hitler, Nasser, and the Arab world. These are the kibbutz's world, flesh, and devil. There seems to have been a direct relationship between the presence, or perhaps more accurately an awareness of this presence, and the motivation for mem-bership in the kibbutz. Membership figures in kibbutz history show a positive correlation between increased membership and the danger from some facet of the exter-nal enemy. Since 1967 the kibbutz membership has shown its first marked increase in nearly two decades as the government, in the wake of the Six Day war, has begun to establish new kibbutzim in Syria, along the Jordan river in former Arab territory, and in the Sinai. Conclusions The ideological fervor of the early kibbutz movement that Spiro connected so intrinsically with classical Marx-ism has withered considerably in the Israeli kibbutzim. The kibbutz has become a desirable form of agricnltural life, not gracious but certainly pleasant. This is especially true for the Sabra, the young children of the kibbutz who accept kibbutz life as a natural and wholesome place to live, work, and raise their families. They are not espe-cially ideologically motivated despite great efforts by the kibbutz educational programs to continue the motivating principles of the kibbutz founders. Kibbutz membership still adds lustre and prestige to politicians and military leaders, something like the "log cabin" birth-place of 19th century American presidents. But the increasing "westernization" of Israel is rapidly diminishing the ego satisfaction of kibbutzniks, whose vocation was once considered the national ideal. The increasing standard of living is also having its effect. Except for work and meals in the common dining hall, there is little "common" living on an Israeli kib-butz. The family has replaced the commune as the center of interest of the members. The replacement of com-munal showers and toilets by private ones is a sign of increased privatization. The trend away from communal ownership in the consumptive sector is clear and likely irreversible. To some extend the Marxist Ha Artiz federation has most successfi~lly resisted these individualistic tendencies. But Marxist ideology has been so closely associated with the now discredited Soviet system (discredited not for intrinsic principles but because of Soviet foreign policy in the Middle East), that there is little evident grass-roots Marxist ideological fervor among the Artzi members. Thus the basic Messianic ideology is no longer an opera- 4, 4, 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 797 + + + ]. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 798 tive principle in the kibbutz movement, although some lip service is still paid to it in the literature of the move-ment. The religious fervor is gone; and, as has been shown in tiffs study, the ascetic principles of the Wandervogel Movement have also slowly eroded. Only the presence of a dangerous external enemy remains as a major factor in maintaining the kibbutz as kibbntz. For the kibbutzniks, there is a growing interest in the Israeli culture outside the barbed wire barriers of the kibbutz boundaries. Tel Aviv, Jernsalem, the beaches at Asbkalon, the symphony, the movie theatres, and jobs in outside industries are no longer an evil "world," an eneiny to be avoided. With both Hitler and Nasser dead, the Arab masses remain a clearly perceived danger, and a sufficient cause justifying the sacrifices intrinsically connected with living a com-munal life. The increasing toleration of personal prop-erty by kibbutz melnbers shows that the original kibbutz asceticism was a necessity of the moment, a means not an end. Taken altogether these factors indicate a shaky fu-tnre for the kibbutz movement in the long rtm. Only the miniscnle religious federation seems to have the tran-scendent valnes that will hold this gronp of kibbutzim together. This segment of the kibbutz movement has a proven long-run ideology, their Jewish Orthodox Faith and perduring external enemies, the secular Israeli state. For Roman Catholic religious gronps these principles of the kibbutz movement can indicate the hazards of certain contemporary trends in Catholic religious com-munities. There seems to be a serious drawback to any community in ending the integral connection between the conamunity apostolate and the common life, between the production and consumption activities. X,Vbatever the legal advantages of separate incorporation of the apos-tolic endeavor, it appears such a change may prove dys-functional to the best interests of the community unless some psychological identification can replace the legal one tying the commonity members to a common aposto-late. Otherwise the religious will become mere employees of their former vocational apostolate. Like kibbutz asceticism, the vows, traditional forms of Cbristifin asceticism, are also increasingly seen as merely ~neans which can and in some instances should be aban-doned as a condition for membership in the group, or for individnal apostolic effectiveness. The trend in substitut-ing community for poverty as the true significance of this evangelical counsel, presages many of the problems the kibbutzim have experienced in their trend toward more and more priw~tization and increasing personal property. At the moment Roman Catholics have no apparent "external enemies" of snfficient threat to bind members and aspirants to religious communities to the requisite personal sacrifices basic to any communal effort. Ecumen-ism has replaced enmity in relating to Protestantism. In-carnational theology no longer sees the world as a "valley of tears." Unity of doctrine is no longer a characteristic of the orders, or even theChurch. Increasing numbers of religious seek employment in secular jobs or outside the order's organized apostolates. The religious life no longer commands the prestige it once bad among the faithful. Tbe kibbutz movement has also shown several possibil-ities that have been traditionally lacking in Catholic reli-gious orders. A communal society of married conples is clearly possible and in some cqntemporary aspects possi-bly superior (in personal fulfilhnent and interpersonal love) to the celibate life. While the structures of existing religious communities do not seem likely to encompass this facet of communal life, it would not be surprising to see new communities of married religious come into exist-ence in the not too distant future. Another wdue of the kibbutz movement is the seeming success of communal groups based on a total democratic process. There are already some indications that the traditionally monarchi-cal religious orders are already moving swiftly to a capi-tular form of government. In most cases the founders of the majority of the Israeli kibbutzim are still alive and to some extent still reflecting the charism that marked the foundation of their commu-nity. Yet it appears that the "routinization of their cha-risma" is not likely to be overly successful. The ideological and "religious" sonrce of the kibbutz movement has al-ready given way to a rapid "secularization" of values by the second generation whose devotion to the kibbutz is either pragmatic or cultural. The positive inspiration of Zionism that has so effec-tively supported the establishment of a Jewish State will certainly diminish in time. Antisemitism is not a motive in a Jewish state, and thus not operative on the Sabra. If and when the Arab situation is normalized, the Kibbutz "external enemy" will also have disappeared. The pris-tine Marxist ideology has been snbject to constant revi-sion, and a wide range of personal and public views are now tolerated among kibbutzniks. The long range prognosis for the kibbutz movement is one of no sizeable growth and more than likely a rapid diminishing of the movement once peace comes to Israel. The small number o[ religious kibbutzim should remain active, as well as a limited number run by convinced Marxists. But the kibbutz movement as a whole will likely prove to have been a temporarily significant social structure in Israeli history due to the particular condi-tions that Jews faced in the 19th and 20th centuries. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME ~0, 1971 799 If this analogy between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious community life is correct, and if the same present trends continne in both institutions, there is a reasonable predictability that many if not most of the present religion,s commonities may be viewed from some future historical perspective as having served the Church's vital needs effectively up to the end of the 20th century. "!" 4" 4- J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOI, JS 8O0 SISTER CHARLOTTE HANNON, S.N.D. DE N. The Graying of America The far left, the far right, the in-betweeners, the libs and the cons, the silent majority and the articttlate mi-nority have reached a consensus on one point at least-- they all agree that "Darling, you are grown older." Laughingly we sing the line at birthday parties and re-unions, but behind the laughter there is the realization that okt age and retirement are major concerns that warrant major consideration. If Toeffler in Future Shock has clone nothing else, he has alerted ns to the need for planning ahead. Last August and November the Finance Retirement Committee of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur of the Maryland Province sent out 415 questionnaires to religious communities across the country. The returns are interesting and informative as the following table indi-cates: Questionnaires sent out . 415 Questionnaires returned . 271 Retirement Plans in operation . 100 No Retirement Plan in operation . 171 Most of the communities in the last category are anxious to know what others are doing about retirement planning, and they indicate a need to begin making plans as soon as possible. Retirement Age and Status The majority of congregations state that they have no "fixed" age for retirement. They agree that the person himself, his state of health, his vitality, mental and physi-cal stamina--all these factors mnst be considered on an individual basis. Although 65 years is mentioned as a possible age/'or part-time retirement, 70 is the time when most religious begin to think seriously abont retiring. Studies show that the life-span of religious exceeds that of the ordinary layman by five to nine years. If there is difference of opinion about a specific age, there is deft-nitely consensns on retirement status. All agree with the statement from the "Older Americans Act," Article 10: 4- 4- Sister Charlotte is Director of Re-search and Funding for the Sisters of Notre Dame de Na-mur; Ilchester, Maryland 21083. VOLUME ~0, 1971 801 + ÷ ÷ St. Charlotte REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 802 "Older Americans or Senior Citizens should be permitted the free exercise of individual initiative in planning and managing one's own life for independence and freedom." Such thinking, of course, originates in the basic Christian

Issue 29.3 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint louis, Missouri 63~ o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgto6. + + +. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly/ and copyright ~) 1970 by at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U,S.A. Second cla~ ~stage paid at ~ltimo~, Mawland and at additional mailing offices. S~gle capita: $1.~. Su~cfiption U,S.A. and Canada: $5.~ a year, $9.~ for two yea~; oth~ coun~: $5,~ a year, $10.~ for two yea~. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVtEW FOR RI:LIGIOL'S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent R.EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom* paaied by a remittance, should be sent to Fan R~m~m.s; P. O. ~x 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busin~ correspondence, and orders not accompanid by RELIGIOUS; 4~8 East Preston Street; Balfimo~, Ma~land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and ~oks for review should be Building; 539 North Grand ~ulevard; Saint Louis, Mi~ouri 63103. Qu~tions for answering should be sent to the addr¢~ of the Qu~fions and ~swe~ ~itor. MAY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 3 HERBERT FRANCIS SMITH, S.J. A Method for Eliminatin Method in Prayer Mental prayer is, .or should be, one of the most per-sonal of all activities. It is an interpersonal event in-volving mutual love and self-communication, and noth-ing is more personal than loving. -Still, beginners in mental prayer usually need helpful hints drawn from-the lives of the saints and others pro-ficient in prayer. These helpful hints come down, in practice, to a method of prayer. Here is a genuine dilemma. A method is an invasion of prayer; a lack of method means inability to pray. How do we solve the dilemma? By giving, beginners a method o[ prayer together with insistence that they jettison the method as soon as they can proceed without it. Among another class of meditators an even more serious dilemma arises. These are the people who have made progress in prayer and withdrawn from method for a while, only to find now that their spontaneous prayer has grown sterile. They seem to need method once again, only now the happy remembrances of per-sonalized prayer induces such a revulsion for method that they are tempted simply to drift rather than submit to codified guidelines anymore. It is above all to the people in the second dilemma that I propose a method for eliminating method in prayer. What these people really need is a method of preparing themselves for prayer. They need a method outside oI prayer Ior eliminating method in prayer. This method for eliminating method is, therefore, not for beginners. It presupposes one experienced in prayer. The method for eliminating method contains, 4- 4- 4- Herbert F. Smith, $.J., r~ides at Joseph s College in Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19131. VOLUME 29, ].970 345 4- ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS incidentally and subordinately, a method to be used in prayer in emergencies. This contingency use will be ex-plained later. It is my con~,ictioh that virtually all who .pray men-tally, need some method of preparing for prayer if they. want optimal prayer and progress in prayer. For this reason I recbmmend the method of eliminating method even to those who are not conscious of either of the ~t~lemmas presented above. The preparation for prayer to be proposed here.can be used as a method ~or elimi-nating method above all by those who have reached the prayer of faith or even gone byond it.1 As a preparation for prayer which can be taken into prayer, what I am going to say here will be as salutary for beginners in prayer as for anyone. For clarity's sake, I will divide this article into three parts: the preparation for prayer; the prayer itself; and the post-prayer activity. Preparation [or Prayer The'best time to make preparation for the next day's mental prayer is in ttie evening before retiring. This is true even if the mental prayer is not to' take place in the morning. The reason for this insistence on the night l~reparation is the nature of the human psyche. Human "thought needs an incubation period in which to germi-nate and gestate. We are inclined" to theidea that all of our thinking is done. consciously; but the fact is, as Freud noted, that conscious psychic activi~ is only the latest arrival 'on the scene of psychic life. The soul never sleeps, and the night can be used to, good purpose if one collects himself to God before he retires. God "gives .to His beloved in sleep" (Ps 127:2). Evening recollection is important even in the shape it gives our dreams. Fur-thermore, preparation for prayer gives our thoughts a definite focus that ~eeds both our conscious aiad sub-liminal psychic processes dui:ing the day. Many great breakthroughs in human .thought have flashed into consciousness at moments when the subject of the in-sight was ~ving all his conscious attention to some other affair. This is proof enough that the inner life of man goes about the concerns of his heart even when he is least aware of it. These gifts from the inner life, how-ever, are not altogether gratuitous. We must plant our questions and our hopes consciously if we want our sub-conscious to give the increase. We do just tha~ by making evening preparation for" the next day's mental prayer. Once we become proficient at ma~ng this preparation for mental prayer, it need take no more than three or ~. ,1 To review the stages of prayer, see a book like Dom Godefroid Belorgey's The Practice of Mental Prayer. four minutes. Initially, tho~gh, ten or fifteen minutes are required. An ideal way to begin tlte preparation is to read a passage from the Gospels; il only for a minute or two. Then lay the Gospels aside and ask oneself the critical question: What do I want to meditate about? At stake here is the insistent fact thatI prayer ought to begin with oneself. A brief reading from the Gospels can establish the climate of prayer, but ~nly the person himself can specify the optimal start"ing point. To automatically meditate on the passage jus~t read can be a fatal error for the next day's meditation. Of course, if a person yearns to take up the Gospels and make them the sub-ject of his meditation, he shbuld do it, but because it is his desire, that is, because i~a reality he is starting with his desire, that is, himself. In prayer, I must begin with myself. I am the only apt launching platform for my prayer. The reason is that prayer, z's has already been said, is one of the most per-sonal of all activities. To ~start with something other than self is to make of medi'tation a study rather than a prayer. No one who wrote a book of meditation points months ago or years ago can tell me here and now what I want to meditate about. Here and now the points probably would not be apt for the authorl Those who use point books ought to us them as I suggest they use the Gospels. Read a set of points, lay the book aside, and ask: Now what do I want to meditate about? If the answer is: The points I hav~ ~ust read, do not use them ¯ exactly as they are, but personahze them according to the method I will introduce shortly. If it can be said as a general truth that failure to ad-dress God in prayer signals failure to love Him, it can also be said that failure to pray personally enough is failure to love rxghtly. Accordingly, we must discover apt and personal prayer eacliI single day. Apt and personal prayer can only start with myself, as I am here and now, thins day, this evening, with its whole train of circumstance.s, concerns, and desires. If simply ignore the whole existential situation, and let a book impose a prayer subject upon me according to such a random determinantt as the page I happen to be on, my prayer cannot possibly emanate from .that per-sonal psychic center where my in-depth living is going on. The result is that neithe~r my heart nor my attention will be captured by my pr~ayer. I will remain divided between my concerns and my prayer. Approaching the same point from another avenue, we can say that there is no really deep prayer without rec-ollecuon, and there xs no recollectxon wxthout presence to the self. I must be collect~d to myself and my deepest ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 1970 34? + ÷ H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 concerns before I can communicate myself to God or to any other. Only if a man enters those inner depths of the self where what he really is, unknown to others and often even to himself, is operative, can he enter into profound relationship with He-who-is. Profound rela-tionships depend on self-communication. The man who does not possess himself cannot communicate himself. We have all had dinner with someone so distracted by every trivial occurrence in the room that he was no com-pamon at all. His hollow presence was an insult. The Lord Himself likens prayer to an intimate evening meal together: "Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal, side by side with him" (Rev 3:20). I must, then, choose my own topic and make my own points out of my own reality to release my own love. That is, I must do this unless lack of prayer experience, exhaustion, or utter dryness compels me to go for help to another. When that happens I must return as soon as possible to my own initiative. My own points may not sound as sublime as the ones in the book. They may not be as sublime, but they may be much more power-ful in moving my emotions, my insights, my convictions, and my actions. A man must bring his current hopes, expectations, frustrations, concerns, and desires into his preparation. Please note: I am not saying: "Make your problems your prayer; bring your problems into your prayer." Such ad-vice would in no way constitute a method for eliminat-ing method in prayer. I am saying: do bring your prob- .lems into your preparation for prayer so that you will not have to drag them into your prayer. In your prep-aration begin with your current concerns; and within the few minutes it takes to prepare points, you will often see that they are really trivial matters yapping at your heels and demanding of you an outsize amount of concern and worry. By giving them your sharp attention for a moment, you can "spank them and put them to bed," and then go far beyond them to give your freed attention to the realest, deepest concerns of your inner self. Only in this way are you likely to have the undi-vided attention absolutely necessary to pursue your real desire, which, in advanced prayer, is to find your Be-loved. There are times when a person's preparation will be-gin with a current problem and end with a current problem. Finel If that is as far as he can get, he has dis-covered that the concern is grave enough to require his prayer time. He can now make his concern his prayer instead of letting it be a distraction--which it certainly would have been if even his full attention cannot put it to rest. I believe many of our worries and concerns continue to plague us only because we never dearly and definitively bring them to our own attention, resolve to do what we can about them, and then commit them to God. We neither focus our minds on the problems nor free ourselves of the problems, and so they continue to wear away both us and our prayer. This approach will gradually eliminate our parasitic worries and cause our other concerns to fall into per-spective and subside. When the surface calms, we will begin to be able to look into our depths and to see clearly once again our realest longings and desires and concerns. Then and only then can we make them the part of our prayer and our lives that they deserve to be. We have triumphed over the distractions, decoys, and red herrings. We are on the way to finding our true selves. It is difficult for a man to find himself, especially in the beginning. It takes courage to seek out what we are. It takes industry to reject the laziness of rote. It takes energy to think and probe. None of us want to use method, but some are really too lazy or too insecure to do anything else. Yet it is only by entering deeply, per-sonally, subjectively into prayer, and engaging in a genuine personal relationship with Jesus that we can avoid reducing prayer to a mere surface phenomenon incapable of producing fire in mind and heart, and so incapable of catalyzing that inner renewal of mind and heart which the Gospels call raetanoia. Let me quote what the great psychiatrist Karl Jung has to say about the failure to adopt an in-depth approach to Christian-ity: The demand made by lmitatio Christi, i.e., to follow the ideal and seek to become like it, should have the resuIt of developing and exalting the inner man. In actual fact, however, the ideal has been turned by superficial and mechanical-minded believers into an object of worship external to them, an out-ward show which, precisely because of the veneration accorded it, cannot reach down into the depths of the psyche and trans-form it into a wholeness harmonising with that ideal. Accord-ingly the .divine mediator stands outside as an image, while man remains fragmentary and untouched in the deepest part of him. Christ can indeed be imitated to the point of stigmati-zation without the imitator's even remotely approaching the ideal or heeding its meaning; the point here is not a mere imitation that leaves a man unchanged and makes him into an artifact--it is rather a matter of realizing the ideal on one's own account (Deo concedente) in the sphere of one's individual life? The cowards who fear entering into themselves or into ~C. G. Jung, Psychological Reflections, ed. by Jolande Jacobi (New York: 1961), p. 279. 4- Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 349 4. 4. 4. H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 Christ will never make real progress in prayer or salva-tion: "But the legacy for cowards., is the second death in the lake of sulphur" (Rev 21:8). It is much easier to fall into some one else's thought pattern than to plough my own way into the future through the use of my own personality, my own initia-tive, my own efforts to think. It is much easier to use someone else's points for meditation than to generate my own. The sad thing is that unless I choose my own sub-ject for meditation and formulate my own points, I will journey in some one else's direction, not my own. I will enter into his thoughts, not mine. I will enter into his self-discovery, and not necessarily discover myself. When we want objective truth, we must go the Church and to all wise men. But when it is a matter of legitimate per-sonal concerns and paths to happiness, there is no sub-stitute for one's own inner voice. The Book of Sirach has some telling words on the point: Finally, stick to the advice your own hear~gives you, no one can be truer to you than that; since a man's own soul often forewarns him better than seven watckmen perched on a watchtower. And besides all this beg the Most High to guide your steps in the truth (37:13, 17, 14, 18). Unlike extrinsic assistance, self-made points hold real promise of self-transformation. The man who makes his own points is most likely to find the way. down into his inner depths and unleash the white hot magma of love and desire that will then break forth into the conscious world of affection and action for Christ. Each of us is best able himself to find and tap his own potential en-ergies. The thoughts that go into making points constitute not only a discovery but a personal experience, and there is no substitute for personal experience. I must begin with what are really my questions and my yearn-ings if the answers experienced are to move me deeply enough to change me into the likeness of Christ. No one else can experience for me, and no one can fully com-municate to me his experience. Let Karl Jung address himself to this felt need for one's own experience of profound realities: The best cannot be told., and the second best does not strike home. One must be able to let things happen. I have learned from the East what is ,,meant by the phrase Wu wei: namely, "not doing, letting be,' which is quite different from doing nothing. Some Occidentals, also, have known what this not-doing means; for instance, Meister Eckhart, who speaks of sich lassen, "to let oneself be." The region of darkness into which one falls is not empty; it is the "lavishing mother': of Lao-tzu, the "images" and the "seed." When the surface has been cleared, things can grow out of the depths. People always suppose they have lost their way when they come up against the depths of experience. But if they do not know how to go on, the only answer, the only advice, that makes any sense is "Wait for what the unconscious has to say about the situation." A way is only the way when one finds it and follows it oneself. There is no general prescription for "how one should do it." 8 There is still another compelling reason for each of us to make his own points. Unless we do we not only may fail to open a fissure through which the flaming energies of our inner life can emerge to become the vital force of our prayer, but we also refuse to open our inner life deliberately and consciously to God, and to ourselves in His presence, so that we can deal with the contingencies which this self-knowledge will certainly give rise to and so that we. can expose the paleness and sickness we will find there to His healing light and care. We are afraid and ashamed to expose burselves even to God, though He alone can heal us. We are also afraid to discover God in our own depths, for fear of the claims He will make on us and the changes He will demand. Jung has clearly discerned the widespread fear of these inner realities. He has found it in high places where it ought not exist: If "the theologian really believes in the almighty power of God on the one hand and in the validity of dogma on the other, why then does he not trust God to speak in the soul? Why this fear of psychology? Or is, in complete contradiction to dogma, the soul itself a hell from which only demons gibber? Even if this were really so it would not be any the less con-vincing; for as we all know, the horrified perception of the reality of evil has led to at least as many conversions as the ex-perience of good.' How can we make any progress in prayer unless we expose Our inner life naked to both God and ourselves? How can we be fully human unless we admit to our-selves that the furnace of our psychic life is full of the raw energies that can be fashioned into" every human desire and every exalted and perverted action that has ever come out of a human being? How can w~ be-fully human without knowing what we can become, or with-out asking God to help us avoid what we might become and to become what we ought? Until we know ourselves rather fully, how can we be deep, or fully unified, or recollected, or ourselves, or facing reality, or communi-cating ourselves whole and entire to God and to man? It is clear to a student of comparative religions like Professor Mircea Eliade that man both loves God and fears Him. Man wants to run to God and run away from Him. Man's psychic life is an amorphous thing. Subcon-scious currents run in contrary directions. A man can both love God and hate Him, cherish Him and resent 8 Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 28~. ' Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 522. Method ~ Pr~r VOLUME 2% 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Him. Leonard Bernstein's symphony Kaddish vividly portrays this malestrom of emotions which we hide in the subconscious because we think it would be blasphemous to let this raw magma break through and rush up into the open daylight of consciousness. Yet where else can it be tamed and channeled? Where else but in daylight and the open air of exposure to God's grace can it cool and harden and thereafter remain, like the granite and the basalt of the earth, as the memory of the ancient volcano of our revolt, and of God's understanding for-giveness and loving conquest over the self-destructive contradictions rending our own inner selves? There are nuns who need a psychiatrist to tell them they would like to have children; there are nuns and priests who leave the religious life when they discover they have desires for marriage. These people have lived a life divorced from their own souls. Every healthy nun knows she would like a husband and children, and every normal priest knows he would like to marry. That is, they know they share with every human nature these intense longings and powerful drives. No priest or nun is called to suppress these longings by trying to pretend they do not exist. They are rather called to control these drives and consciously forego the joy of their fulfillment for the sake of pursuing their higher, virginal love and service of Christ and the Church.~ The practice of daily communing with our own deep-est selves to make our own points for meditation will help us to keep posted on all these powerful and dan-gerous currents within us. Suppression of awareness permits dangerous psychic pressures to mount, but these vents into consciousness will have the opposite effect. The foul gases of cold or hateful or resentful feelings toward God, can escape, giving us opportunity to feel ashamed, and apologize, and be cleansed and healed. Experienced meditators should be able to make their own points without difficulty, after practicing for two or three weeks. Once they have discovered what it can do for them, nothing will prevent them from continuing except neglect or laziness. These confident statements presuppose that the persons addressed are doing daily spiritual reading, especially of the Scriptures. They pre-suppose a broad knowledge of Scripture and the memory of hundreds of favorite passages which come to mind spontaneously when they are germane to the thoughts of the meditation. I do not believe those who lack a broad knowledge of Scripture can use this method. Healthy Christian prayer hardly seems possible without the knowledge of Scripture wherein God teaches us to pray. Only two people know what I ought to pray about here and now: God and myself. In fact, I reduce that to one. God knows, and I have to find out. That is what I ought to do each night. That is the project of making points. By starting with myself I am most likely to be able to find out. It is also there, in my deepest recesses, that ! am most likely to find God. And only if I find Him will I be truly at prayer, which is not thinking, but communication and communion. Prayer is a work of two. We come now to consider the actual making of the points. As I set about making points, I should be con-sciously guided by two master facts. The first is the stage of prayer I have reached, and the second is my frame of ~nind at the moment. Often these two concerns are in conflict, and one of the purposes the points serve is to resolve this conflict. Master fact one. In slightly advanced states of prayer the meditator is often ruled by the desire to find God in prayer. He no longer wants to reflect on spiritual truths or current events in his life. He wants God's company. Furthermore, he is plagued by an inability to meditate any longer. The reasons for this are taken up in treatises on the stages of prayer.5 Master fact two. The meditator's frame of mind is, for instance, troubled by an event of the day and he wants to think about it. These two desires are in conflict. Unless he resolves the conflict before trying to meditate, he is likely to drift back and forth between the two concerns, not knowing which is the prayer and which the distraction. I would like to give an example of a set of points made in this state of conflict. I am in a stage of prayer in whick I habitually want to find God. At the same time I am concerned about my health. Apparently I have done what I can t:or it, but still I am concerned about it. During the last two or three days, the worry has in-truded itself into my prayer. For the subject of medita-tion I choose: The Divine Physician. The scene to oc-cupy my imagination: ]esus putting clay on the blind man's eyek. I ask the grace: To put myself in the care of the Divine Physician. I now think about the subject for a moment (instinctively guided by the two master facts listed above), and reflectively expand it into three points. FIRST POINT: The God-man, the true Physi-cian. SECOND POINT: I put myself completely in Your care, Divine Healer. THIRD POINT: Lord, now that I am Your concern, You can be my concern. I now choose some phrase which in one or a few words cap- Again I refer to Belorgey, The Practice. Method in Prayer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures the essence of the meditation. I call it the SPIR-ITUAL CAPSULE: Divine Physician, come! Something very important has transpired here. This simple preparation, which in practice might take me no more than a couple of minutes, was actually a miniature meditation. In this preparation-meditation I have ended my concern by deliberately turning it over ~to Christ. I did that in the second point. At that point I eliminated the conflict and left myself free to pray about my deep-est concerns. That fact is crystalized in the third point, where my attention is focused on the Lord, and I have actually already begun my interchange of affection with Him. In this mini-meditation I have disposed myself for the p.rayer of the presence of God by giving my current concern the momentary attention it needed, which was all the attention it deserves. This telescoping of a medi-tation which might formerly have taken an hour to get the same results into a minute or two is characteristic of persons who have reached more contemplative states of prayer. It proceeds intuitively and almost instantane-ously. It is also characteristi~ of contemplative states of prayer that meditation is displaced from prayer time and is skillfully and spontaneously carried on at odd moments during the day, and at the time of prepara-tion for prayer. Prayer preparation is, in contemplative states, a time to run quickly through meditative mat-ters and then put them aside, and thus put the soul in peace for contemplation. Let us now take the example of a set of points which a man might make while he is in the stage of the prayer of faith, on a quiet day when nothing is troubling him. The master fact governing his choice is his yearning for non-verbal communication with God: SUBJECT Resting with You by faith. SCENE Desert, where You invited the Apostles to come and rest with You (Mk 6:31). GRACE To be still and know that You are G~d (Ps 46:10). FIRST POINT "Commune with your hearts on your beds and be Silent" (Ps 4:4). SECOND POINT "Peace, be stilll" (Mk 4:39). THIRD POINT You lead me beside still waters, You restore my soul (Ps 23:3). SPIRITUAL CAPSULE God There are a number of useful things to be noted in this example. The meditator is addressing God even in the course of preparing points. He sees no sense in talk-ing about God in third person when l~e can address Him directly. Further, he loves to address God and have God address him in God's own words taken from Scrip-ture. And he has culled from Scripture and put down from memory passages he has recently memorised in the course of his Scriptural reading because they aptly de-scribe and Scripturally vouch for the authenticity of his current form of prayer. Finally, he summarizes his whole meditation in one word, knowing that even one word is too many to use in this stage of prayer. A man in the prayer of faith or beyond may make points similar to this most days for months at a time-- or even ~ears. He makes fresh points each day, because there is always a different nuance it is important to ex-press, but the essence remains un.varying. He is in com-munion with God on a deep level little affected by the transient times and tides of each day. The two examples given make it evident that I pro-pose a standard framework to contain the meditation. I call it the spiritual filing cabinet. It is the format made familiar by St. Ignatius. The advantage is that of any filing cabinet. It makes it easy for me to remember and sort out my thoughts each day, since I never vary. the cabinet but only the contents. I write down the medita-tion each night, but just before falling to sleep I can easily recall it from memory because of the standardized framework. On evenings when the preparation is fully successful, I will have disposed of all other concerns by the time I reach the third point, and there be swept up into the presence of God, where I hope to remain until after the hour of prayer the next morning. In that case, I will not recall the points when I compose myself for sleep. The points have eliminated themselves by pro-jecting me beyond them. They have proved their power to be selpeliminating. Let us take an example of a third mood, which is a composite of the two preceding moods, and see the points that come out of it. Personally, the meditator would like to spend his prayer time simply dwelling with God, but he feels he ought to bring the whole world into his meditation. To which of these conflict-ing desires is he really being called by ~race? The an-swer is that if he is in a contemplative stage of prayer such as the prayer of faith, the presumption must be in its favor until experience gives contrary evidence. After all, arrival at such a prayer is a personal invitation from God to come apart and rest awhile. Furthermore, by his contemplation the person is disposing himself to be God's servant to the world. Still, in preparing his medi-tation, the meditator may be able to synthesize the two diverse thrusts of his desire: SUBJECT The God of concern for the world SCENE The God of the world is within me, who am part of the world GRACE To be one with You in Your labors for men, my God and their God FIR, ST POINT 0 God of all origins, Father ingeneratet + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 SECOND POINT 0 God to the world, Incarnate God-Sonl THIRD POINT 0 God to the world-in-process of being reborn, Holy Spirit with usl SPIRITUAL CAPSULE Com~, Lord Jesus! In this meditation the meditator has succeeded in gain-ing a synoptic view of God and the world, thereby rec-onciling the seemingly opposed desires of his state of mind. Whatever direction his meditation takes in the morning, it should be able to take it without distraction from unreconciled contraries. Sometimes, when there are a few extra minutes avail-able, it is useful to jot down a few sub-ideas under one or more of the three points. Under the first point of the sample meditation just given, one might jot: You are the Father who has instructed us: "Be fruitful and mul-tiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion." Under the second he might jot the words of Jesus: "Fear not, I have overcome the world," and "I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly." Years ago, I used to find this helpful, but now I generally find that it only clutters up the meditation and interferes with the simple contemplative gaze the preparation helps me to achieve. Anyone willing to experiment with this method for eliminating method may discover to his joy that while he used to wander to and fro from one book to another looking for something to help him meditate, he now easily discovers what he wants. When he asks: "What do I want to pray about, Lord?" the subject readily comes to mind: The quiet of being with You. "What scene to quiet my imagination?" John leaning on Your breast. What grace? To renew my knowledge of what it means to be with You. Point One: Resting here with You. Point Two: Listening in my heart to what You say. Point Three: Returning the love. Spiritual Capsule: I to You, and, to me, You whom my heart loves. In all of this, I have begun with something even more personal than Scripture. I have consulted God and my-self, and from there gone on to use Scripture, as God's means of communicating with me and I with Him. Slowly I formulate what God and I are to one another at the moment. I find God, and, as best I can, remain with Him until the time of formal prayer the next morn-ing. The Praying Itself If I am to pray in the early morning, the time to begin praying is the moment I awake. If, on awaking, I am in the presence of God, I make no attempt to recall my points. I simply remain with Him. When I come to the formal time for prayer, I do not use my points. Points are not lor use. I abide with God. I pray con-templatively, in a form of non-verbal communication represented by the names, prayer oI faith, prayer ol quiet, and so forth. Of course, this method does not produce such a state of prayer. It only facilitates it for those who have attained to it. Often, it is only by turning away from thoughts of God that we can turn to God, for no thought can con-tain Him, but a thought can distract us from Him. One nun to whom I had communicated these reflections wrote me: I've read a little over half of the Ascent to Mount Carmel. I like John. He is very gentle, thoughtful, and humble. 250 pages of how to do nothing in prayer. You sai,d, it in one sen-tence: "Don't think about God; think God.' I understand that all this background is essential, though, especially since I have not yet learned how to do nothing. This self-eliminating method can help us to bank the flies of our own recollection until it reaches the in-candescence of the prayer of the presence of God. The method is for those who have found and want to hold on to the prayer of communication, communion, and union with God. It is for those quiet enough to hear the call to this prayer, and courageous enough to take the solitary path to their meeting alone with God. The points are designed for self-elimination, but they are also meant to serve as an emergency auxiliary. They are supposed to put us into the orbit of our normal prayer, but they are also' supposed to rescue us if we fall out of it. Should I be unsuccessful in finding God when I awake in the morning, I recall my points and mentally run through them. I center my recollection around them until the time for formal prayer. On coming to prayer, I put aside my points and make another attempt to find God without thoughts or words. If I do not succeed, I resort to my points once again, ' since I have put into them the matters which mean most to me at the mo-ment. They should help me to pray the prayer of sim-plicity, or the prayer of affection, or at least to do some meditating. If not, I will have to turn to some other alternative, such as meditative reading of the Scripture, but only as a good spiritual director, or a reliable book on the stages of prayer, advises.n Sometimes when we attempt to prepare our own points, we will find we are devoid of every thought. We have no choice but to resort to some one else's points. Or do we? That is the time to turn to past sets of our own o In advanced states, it is not easy to know whether we are praying successfully or wasting our time. See, once again, Belorgey, The Practice, or the works of St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and others. + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 357 Sm~t~o S./. RELIGIOUS 358 points, prepared out of our own heads in .richer seasons, and stored up for barren days. At times when I have felt repelled by the thought of any book and unable to prepare a meditation of my own, I have frequently re-sorted to stores of my own points. Almost always two or three sets will guide me into prayer and. recollection within minutes. Once again I am experiencing the grace I received in the day and hour I first used those particu-lar points. Roads we have used to God in the past often remain viable if we can locate them again. We should return often to the sites where He has visited us in the past. This method of preparing points is very useful even for those in earlier stages of prayer, but for them the preparation will not be self-eliminating. They will of necessity take their self-prepared material into the prayer and use it to feed their meditation. They will enjoy most of the benefits of this highly personalized and creative method of prayer. For them too it minimizes method, reduces foreign elements in their prayer to a minimum, and guides them to personal discovery of Christ. When beginners use this method of making points, it will have to be modified somewhat. O[ten, they will not be able to prepare points out of their heads. What they can do is take a Gospel event, analyze it, and put it.into the spiritual filing cabinet according to their own bent. Under each point they should jot down personal ideas and experiences relating to the Scriptural themes. If no personal ideas come, they can be trained to use the ref-erences to related passages such as the Jerusalem Bible gives in such abundance. Looking up these related pas-sages and jotting them down as sub-points will help deepen their understanding of Scripture and develop their power to meditate. They should take about fifteen minutes to prepare points in the beginning. Before long they will show more deftness and originality in use of the method. I taught this method to a group of young sisters with assurance that it would work. Not long after, one of them wrote me: You know, Father, at first when you told us about using our "spiritual capsule" before bedtime and that in time we would awaken at night and find ourselveg" talking to God, I felt it would be years until that could ever happen to me. But it has happenedl Post-Prayer Activity We ought to record worthwhile insights, experiences, and meetings with God in prayer. Reading them over some time later can be the best fuel for future points. As already indicated, we should store up successful self-made points. It is practicable to make points each day in a small note book, dating each day as we go along. When we want to make a post-prayer reflection in writing, put it in the same place. In the future when our mood is such that we want to return to some explicit past meditation, we will be able to find it with ease and benefit by it again. This method for eliminating method in prayer has been well tested and proven. It requires some trouble on our part, but it eliminates a lot more trouble than it takes. It is a method with a high yield. For surely he is going to make the most progress in his search for God who starts not from some one else's starting point but from his own. + + + VOLUME 29, 1970 DOM JOHN MAIN, O.S.B. V ew Dora Johu Main, O.S.B., a monk of Ealing, is presently living at St. An-selm's Abbey in Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Once upon a time a small boy and his old uncle were out for a walk in their city. It was a large city and had in it all sorts of wonderful modern buildings and wonderful modern people. It was called Secular City and was beautifully situated in a deep valley with spectacular high mountains rising up all around it. The small boy and his uncle had strayed into an older part of the city, and the boy was very surprised when they came upon a large building in a ruinous condi-tion. This was an altogether unusual sight in the modern city, and the small boy was upset by it. He thought how marvelous the ruins must have looked in their day. Pointing to the ruin, one feature of which seemed to have been a very high tower, he asked his uncle what this ugly eyesore was doing here. The old uncle sighed; he hated his young nephew to see anything that was ugly. "Well," he started, "I can remember that building well. It was very fine in its day, with a great high tower which reached way up above Secular City. They said that the view from the tower was absolutely stupendous." "But how on earth did it become such a ruin?" asked the small boy, looking now with an even greater interest at the noble ruins. "Well, you see," the uncle started, "a rather special group used to live there. They really did a great job for the whole community in rather a strange sort of way. You see in our Secular City we are stir-rounded by mountains and, as a result, we tend to get rather closed in on ourselves. It's rather difficult to ex-plain, but we tend to think of everything in terms of Secular City. Well, the group that lived there built a large and very high tower--to see the wonderful view; and in some strange way this view of theirs seemed to add a new dimension to the life of the group that made them rather special people in Secular City." The boy listened to this explanation with great at-tention. He wondered how a view could have so changed a group. Turning his innocent face to his uncle, he asked, "How do you mean--special people? Did the view make them a bit odd?" "I suppose it did in a way," the uncle replied, try-ing to recall the group to his mind. "We could never quite understand why they were so concerned to pro-vide schools and hospitals, orphanages and old people's homes. We just accepted the fact that somehow or other the view was at the back of it all." He thought very quietly to himself and added: "Anyone who needed help seemed to become the concern of the group. It all happened a long time ago, and I can'( remember too. well now; but it seemed that they brought all their talents together and used them wherever there were people in need." The uncle had not thought of these things for a long time. It was the dedication of the group that now struck him as the hallmark of their work. He wondered, to himself how he had been so lacking in curiosity about the view when the group had been such a creative force in the city. The little boy now looked really puzzled. "Well, what happened," he asked, "How did it all become a ruin? Did some tyrant come' and run them out of town?" "You remember me telling you about the tower, and how hard it was to climb to the top," the uncle went on. "Well, it appears that over the years, the staircase that went up to the top got rather old and worn out-- I think there was woodworm or maybe dry rot--and the group decided that they would have to rebuild it. And that was when all the trouble started. Some of the group just wanted to repair the staircase, but others said that was no good because the dry rot, or maybe it was woodworm, ~vould just affect the new wood. Then someone who was really very modern got the idea of pulling down the staircase and putting in an elevator. The trouble with this idea was that they couldn't get the elevator shaft in without pulling down the staircase, and that's when the trouble really started. In the old days, you see, there had always been some of the group either at the top of the stairs looking at tile view, or. some of them on the way up to encourage the others. I'm not too sure about this, but I think it was.rumored that even before all the discussions started, there. weren't quite so many climbing so high up the tower. I think I remember it being said that the group spent a lot of time looking after all .their plant and not quite so much time getting up to the view. In any case, they all seemed to agree that the stairs had to be rebuilt. But, when this argument started, they all got so involved in the discussion about the elevator, that ÷ ÷. ÷ VOLUME 29 1970 361 ~ ÷ ÷ + Dom John Main REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 they all began to come down to join one of the com-missions they set up." "What's a commission?" the small boy asked, looking rather puzzled. The old uncle tried to look very wise. "A commis-sion," he faltered, "was a part of the group set up to examine some particular problem. They usually passed out questionnaires which everybody had to fill in, and these suggested new questions and more questionnaires. I never really understood the process---but I believe it was quite essential." The little boy did not seem to be paying much atten-tion to this; and, turning his perplexed face to his uncle, he pondered: "But was anyone trying to keep going up the tower to see the view while those com-missions met?" He was only a small boy, but it seemed to him that if the view had been so important in the past it might even inspire the work of the commissions. "I suppose some were," replied the old uncle, "but then they all seemed to get nervous about the founda-tions." "The foundations," replied the small boy, now look-ing at his old uncle with something like incredulity. "Yes," went on the uncle. "You see, after a while the discussions shifted from the question of the elevator or the stairs to another more fundamental matter, namely, would the foundations really support any new structure at all?" "Well, if they supported the old one, why shouldn't they support the new one?" asked the small boy. "And, anyway, what about the view? Didn't anyone even want to risk trying to get up to see the view?" "The problem was," explained the uncle, "that the old structure had really become very rickety by this time. The group was finding that the stairs just wouldn't carry them up anymore. And the foundations, this was quite a problem. But perhaps more serious was another thing. You remember me telling you that in our Secular City we get rather inward looking--strange to say this way of thinking now began to affect the group. In the old days they had brought quite a new dimension 'to the city, but now somehow or another they became like the rest of the people around them in the city." The boy now looked very serious indeed. "They should have tried to keep contact with that view," he said his face had become very determined and set. "I don't think we should be too hard on them," replied his uncle; "it was a difficult problem to know how to renew those stairs." But even as he was saying this, at a deep level he shared his nephew's regret. "But what happened?" urged the small boy. "Did the commission ever come up with a solution?" In spite of his black looks of a moment ago, his innocence forced him to believe that there must be a solution. The old uncle tried to remember. "I just can't re-call," he said. "There used to be a lot of talk about the group but then people seemed to forget about them." It was getting late and they had to be going home, but the small boy wanted to take a closer look at the ruin. They walked over and both looked at one an-other in surprise. There seemed to be sounds coming from the basement--was someone working at the foundation? But, it was time to go. "I wonder what that view was really like?" mused the small boy, looking up at the great ruined tower. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 29, !970 EUGENE C. AHNER, S.V.D. Toward a Renewed Life in Communi Eugene C. Ah-her, SN.D., is the dean of men at the S.V.D. Major Sem-inary; 4000 13th St.; Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There was a lawyer who to disconcert him stood up and said to him, "Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" He replied, "You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your s~rength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.' "You have answered right" said Jesus; "do this and lif.e is yours" (Lk 10:25-8). At this level we all find ourselves in agreement. The purpose of our lives, the goal of our struggle as human beings, as Christians, as priests or religious, is the love of God and neighbor. Here we all celebrate together and find ourselves in familiar company whether we are young or old, liberal or conservative, particularly pious or not. In fact, if we really pressed the issue we would find there are very few, if any, who are against love. After all, everyone wants love, truth, peace, brotherhood. However, as we go one step further and begin to ask what is real love anyway and how does one respond in the face of non-love, of hate, deception, and fear, the whole harmonious scene changes. What seems so simple and clear immediately becomes immensely complex and confused. Conflicting attitudes, opposing groups, and divergent ideas splinter in all directions. And we find ourselves in agreement with Qoheleth as he says: "I find that God made man simple; man's complex problems are of his own devising" (Eccl 7:29-30). The real problem, then, is not who wants love and truth and goodness, but how do we live in the face of evil. For, in each of us and in the world about us, there are not only the elements of life and growth but also the seeds of death and destruction. And while we may be quite sensitive to and indignant about the evil out-side of us, we are fearfully reluctant to look directly, clearly, and without dodging or panicking at the evil inside our own hearts. And yet, unless we are in touch with ourselves as we truly are and with our brother as he truly is, talk of love is futile. For the sad fact is that what then goes for love is rather an exercise in self-protection or self-aggrandizement at the expense of both myself and my brother. The gxeat task before each man, then, is really the human task. The fundamental point of religious life is common to all: to find oneself; to find one's brother; to find God. For, unless we are in touch with this funda-merit of reality we cannot walk the way of love. This discovery of our own true dimensions, tlie experience of our human situation, is a prelude to a life of love. And yet the one thing we attempt to avoid is knowing our-selves as we truly are--to enter into the wasteland of our own heart and discover there the dimensions of the sinner as well as the saint, the evil as well as the good, the love of death as well as the love of life. We are ca-pable of hate as we are of love, of anger as we are of af-fection, of the irrational as of the rational. No doubt the religious and monastic thing has always intended to bring a man in touch with himself as tie truly is--the long hours of aloneness, of fasting, of re-flection, of self-accusation, of spiritual direction. How-ever, there is no need to prove that the intended results have not kept pace with the practices and that, to the contrary, there are enough instances of these practices actually being used in such a way as to support and contribute to the dream world of self-deception and of the flight from the reality of oneself and one's neighbor. In fact, we might even wonder whether some of our more recent theologizing and liturgical celebration are not weakened by this very sort of glibness and superficial-ity with which it slides over the problem of evil and death. This can only lead to a kind of astonishment and perhaps eventual disillusionment when the repetition of the words love, community, hope, and life do not really seem to overcome hate, isolation, despair, and death be-cause they have never really met each other seriously and head-on. Each set of experiences is kept separate from the other because deep in our hearts we are not so very sure that love can really overcome fear and that truth is really stronger than pretense. The world of the kingdom, of truth, and of love is expressed and cele-brated loudly and clearly but in an uprooted and imag-inary world of its own. The world of sin and of death is kept apart, quiet and repressed deep inside the heart unknown even to the heart itself. Jeremiah says: "The heart is more devious than any other thing, perverse too; who can pierce its secret?" (Jer 17:9) And it is here in the unfathomable depths of the heart that the human ego keeps itself. + ÷ Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 365 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. ~. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 366 The difficulty of honestly facing our fear and the de-viousness of our own hearts has led us to many disguises and subterfuges to avoid the kind of confrontation that brings to light what is now in darkness. More by way of example than by exhaustive analysis, I would like to list three common ways we avoid the reality of who we are. Repression We are all acquainted with the small child who, in wanting to hide from someone, simply covers his own eyes. And so, not able to see the other, he feels well hid-den and secure. We smile at the naiveness of the child but what is innocent enough at that level becomes dev-astat! ng for adults who continue to deal with reality in this way. The easiest way of dealing with the unpleas-ant is to act as if it were not there. Somehow, by ig-noring it, it will go away. If our feelings run counter to what we are expected to feel, to think, or to do, the quickest way of dealing with the situation is to ignore or repress the feelings. If our feelings are so strong that we don't know what they might lead to, the safest thing is to repress them. Concretely, if I have sexual feelings or fantasies for someone of the same or opposite sex and for whatever reason feel that I shouldn't, I will tend to act as if they are not there. If I feel so angry inside that I am afraid that I will lose control and really hurt someone, I will try to play it safe and keep all feelings well under control. If I feel tender or affection-ate but consider such feelings unmanly, I will hide them. But the sad fact is that we cannot exercise such selec-tive repression. Before long we find that we do not know how we feel anymore and soon we discover that we no longer consciously feel anything at all. The price of re-pressing unwanted feelings is the numbing of all feelings. But deep inside there is a lump and we are depressed or forever anxious. And so we walk about like hollow peo-ple, not obviously angry or unkind but not able to love or feel deeply for anyone either. It becomes too dangerous to let go of any feeling because something else might come up that we cannot handle. But even that might not be too high a price to pay for external control. The fact is though that nothing is simply repressed without making itself felt somehow or somewhere--which brings us to our second ploy. Transference Everything that has made up our life leaves its mark and calls for its share of recognition. And if we are un-willing or unable to face the feelings that arise directly from the situation, we will have to face them in some other area that has no direct relation to the original feeling. Almost classic now is the understanding that masturbation, for example, is not simply a sexual prob-lem but a release of anger, frustration, feelings of in-adequacy and overdependency, that are not being met at the level where the issues really are. Another broad area of transference is the focus of all one's interests and energy on the great battle of evil out-side of ourselves. Especially today at a time of such far-reaching change and critical reevaluation there is no lack of evils to attack or causes to be advanced. All of which is fine and to be commended provided that it is not merely a front for avoiding the evil inside of our-selves. The real problem is that whatever evil exists around us also has basic roots and affinities inside of us. So, unless we have faced the evil within, our attempts to deal with it outside will be more a case of evil meet-ing evil, violence opposed to violence, lust opposed to lust, totalitarianism opposed to totalitarianism. And the end result will be ambiguity, hostility, restlessness, and the alienation of feeling. The present day religious community in transition is an excellent breeding ground for this kind of malaise. It becomes so much easier to fight the corruption in institutions and structures than in ourselves. And the sad fact is that there is so much that needs to be renewed but the one who is vigorously tear-ing down structures does not even realize that he is pri-marily fighting something in himself. Intellectualism This is an occupational hazard of any academic or student community. It is rooted in the realization that whatever can be understood can also be controlled. Therefore, if we intellectualize our whole life, our feel-ings and relationships as well, we can always be in con-trol. And as long as we maintain control, no one can get too dose to us, no one will be able to hurt us. manipulate persons and relationships, often unknow-ingly, in order to keep them at a distance and so pick and choose what is safe and what we can master. It means, of course, that all spontaneity must be censored and no feelings may overstep our present intellectual understanding. Feelings, then, become techniques to use "for effect." Relationships become calculations and the question becomes what should I feel rather than what do I feel. Life becomes a question of control, and lost are the directness and closeness of Christ: anger, fear, tears, and tenderness. And in the end, since the feelings have not been dealt with honestly, they will crop up in some often unsuspecting way and cry out for recognition. + + + Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 E. C. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 Perhaps it will be one person or one thing that will have to bear in an unreal and overdependent way our total emotional life. These are some of the more common ways we use to protect ourselves from others. But systematically and imperceptibly what we have hidden about ourselves from others also becomes hidden from ourselves. And so we find that we are not only strangers to others but finally also to ourselves. By middle-age most of us are accomplished fugitives not only from others but radi-cally from ourselves, thereby losing touch with the true source of life and renewal and motivation within us. What is it that drives us so far from ourselves and others? What subtle and all-pervasive element in our lives creeps into every aspect of it? What holds us in a closed and guarded defense rather than in an open and loving embrace? We are in fact face to face with fear-- our great fear that if we are known as we truly are we will not be lovable, will not be accepted, but rather that we will be taken advantage of, laughed at, hurt, or ignored. If others really knew that I am not only strong and capable but also weak and afraid, that I not only have desires of love and goodness but also of hate and destructiveness, would I still be loved and accepted or would I be crushed and rejected? I would venture to say that the great feeling of worthlessness so prevalent among people today is a direct result of their fear to be themselves. And we have reason to be afraid because to be our-selves means openness and vulnerability and honesty and confession of weakness. Revealing ourselves might destroy us. And if life is a little flicker between the darkness from which we have come and the darkness to which we will return, then we will do all that we can to grab it and. protect it. And so we proceed to build walls a~ound our weakness, to present only our strengths, to acknowledge only what is good and loving in us and we try to cover over what is weak and evil. We will be careful always to be in control and to have enough "pro-tection" between ourselves and others. And yet the fact is that only when we break through this hard shell can we be truly lovable. Only then can someone know who we are and love us. The very defenses we use not to get hurt are the walls that keep others out and make it ira-possible for another to really love us. And so we end up with the sad paradox that what we want most, to love and to be loved, is the thing we most thwart by our at-tempts to achieve it--through impressing others with being strong, trying to merit another's love by only re-vealing our "best" side. All this despite the experience we also share of actually feeling a greater love rather than less towards someone who may have revealed his own weakness to us. As John says so succinctly: "In love there can be no fear, but fear is driven out by perfect love: because to fear is to expect punishment, and any-one who is afraid is still imperfect in love" (1 Jn 4:18). So the very possibility of love depends on our willing-ness to face weakness and evil as it truly is--in ourselves and in our brother. Love does not solve the problem of evil by eliminating or avoiding it. That is impossible. To attempt a solution of evil by elimination is to believe that evil is only extraneous to man, that were it not for an evil society man could live in love and truth. In this view, evil would be successfully overcome if it could only be eliminated from the society in which man lives. It would be to act as if man were an angel who did not have deep within himself seeds of both good and evil. Rather, the only route open in the face of evil is to suff~r through evil without the loss, the capacity for love. In other words, evil must be transcended, not es-caped from or eliminated, and this cannot be achieved apart from the journey through the lust of one's own hell. So, finally, it is man himself and not evil which is redeemed. Evil, sin, and death will remain but they can be transcended provided that the individual face them in imagination and go beyond them in an act of love that restores the mystery of being and reveals the limit-lessness of man's freedom and responsibility. It is only by personally facing the depths of one's own despair, hate, violence, doubt, nothingness, aloneness that hope and love and redemption and faith are the victories that overcome, transcend the world. We do not face evil by simply committing it because this is in fact to sur-render to it. We do not face it by acting as if it were not a reality inside ourselves because this is mere,escapism to an unreal world which makes any real solution impossible. But rather, we must enter it through the imagination, risk the possibility of doing it, and with this necessary psychic distance, to transcend it. But as we consider these dynamics, are we not face to face with the religious thing, with the task of religious development in a community? A home wher~ I can search out my own heart, to discover the depths ~f the sinner and the saint, and to be accepted and erhbraced in a fraternity of sinners redeemed by Christ's 10ve. A group of persons with whom I can be myself, be open with-out deceit and not stand constantly under the sentence of being ridiculed, ignored, or taken advantage of. A place where the forgiving and creative form of love is operative and allows new possibilities of life to be re-vealed from sin and death. A zone of truth s~here evil will not be run from or ignored but faced ste,hdfastly with + + Toward Renewed Lile VOLUME 29, 1970 369 love. A community where there are honest men seeking for truth and love who are willing and able to accom-pany me in my journey. For this kind of atmosphere will allow an individual to take the fearful plunge and search the darkness of his own heart, to transcend the evil in his own life, and to face clearly the choice of lov.ing or hating, believing or doubting, being honest or hiding, hoping or despairing, living or dying. Is this not really what we should be about in our own life in community? The religious community is not a place to protect a person from himself, from reality, to escape or ignore evil, but rather to open him to the reality of himself and to reality in general. What re-newal has discovered is not a new commandment but the necessity of more penetrating and decisive ways of facing and knowing ourselves totally, good and evil. Only then can we really begin to walk the way of that first and all-inclusive command: "Love God with your whole heart and your neighbor as yourself." 4- 4- E. ~. Ahnt~', $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 370 ALAN AMBORN The Helpful,.Lifer It seems to be rather common opinion' that convicts who turn to God are nothing but hypocrites. Nothing could be farther /from the truth. You can read here what rel!gion really means to a prisoner. There are many people who seem to wqnder exactly what part religion can and does play in American prisons today. It is my opinion that it pla~s a very im-portant part, even though people may frequently say: "Isn't it all hypocrisy? Is a convicted felon ,really sincere when he turns to God only after he has b~en found in his crimes?" To that question we can posiibly have as many answers as there are men in prison. It may seem strange but it is nevertheless true that the people who ask such questions are us~ually people who have little, if any, firsthand information about prisons or prison inmates. What little info,rmatlon they have was obtained from reading the newspapers. Only too often such information is scanty and, at times, even misleading. , Suppose we begin with the assumption, that ninety-nine per cent of the men and women res.iding in the penitentiaries are guilty of the crimes for, which they have been sentenced. A large proportion 'of these are first offenders, many of whom have been committed to prison for crimes of omission, accident, or sheer stupid-ity rather than deliberate crimes of cupidity. Further-more, I would say that by far the majority of these are determined that they will never again come in conflict with the law once they have completed their sentences. The point I am trying to make is that among our prison inmates there are those who could possibly be classed as ogres, madmen, or depraved individuals, but they are in the minority. The greater part of our prisoners are peo-ple who have feelings, conscience, and a deep awareness of what they have done to their victims, their loved ones, and to themselves. In a prison, men and women who have been torn from their homes, wives, children, sweethearts, and + + + Alan Amborn 16376 can be writ-ten to at Box 900; Jefferson City, Mis-souri 65101. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS friends are forced to live an almost completely monastic life. Despite the many humane reforms in our modern penal systems, the average prisoner still undergoes the shock of isolation, the moral shame and degradation that follow his being sentenced. A first offender's initial few months is, generally, a period of shock, humiliation, despair, and above all, one of loneliness beyond descrip-tion. No one, not having experienced that first night when the cell door slams with such frightening finality and the lights go out, could be expected to understand the feel-ings that encompass the now totally miserable individ-ual. Along with the sense of loss come degradation and despair with a special kind of fear--spiritual and moral as well as physical. A person having experienced these feelings could never forget them. A person not having experienced them could never understand exactly what they were. Those first-night horrors can, and do, shake the most calloused lawbreaker to the very core of his being. Is it any wonder, then, that prisoners turn to what should have been their constant solace and comfort but, too often, is their last resort--their God and their Bible? It is the only answer and solution to a problem of pain that can drive the most hardened sophisticate mad. I speak from firsthand, if tragic, experience. I am an inmate of a Midwestern penitentiary. This is not my first prison. Yet, in each I have seen the word of God work wonders when everything else tried had failed. Any man or woman who is not completely amoral has some degree of sensitivity. Convicts are no exception. Even though the State, through legislation, charity, and necessity, provides for the prisoner in regards to his or her material and spiritual wants, there is always one factor that cannot be provided for, and that is the purely private and personal feelings of the individual. From unforgettable personal and bitter experience I know this common factor. Even though the warden of a prison were to offer a sympathetic ear to the inmate, the pris-oner's recent association with the police, the court, judge, and the jury, would have, consciously or uncon-sciously, erected a mental barrier that is, during the first months of imprisonment, not easily scaled. To the average prisoner who is experiencing his first imprison-ment, even the kindly ministrations and gestures of a chaplain, psychologist, or psychiatrist are often rejected and disregarded simply because the prisoner is not in a receptive mood or frame of mind. Very few convicts .are inclined to make officials of any stature their confidants. In the case of the new prisoner's family, the shock and shame emanating from their loved one's conviction and imprisonment is usually so great that they are at a com-plete loss as to what to do toward comforting or en-couraging their father, brother, or son. In a great ma-jority of the cases I have personally observed, the family procrastinates; they do nothing, waiting for the impris-oned man to make the initial move. Any conscientious prison official can tell you how inadvisable this attitude is. It is the usual procedure or custom in most prisons to have the new inmate or "fish" go through a thirty day period of isolation. There are two reasons for this pro-cedure: a hygienic check-up first, and then the period in which the authorities observe the conduct and attitude of the man. The officials, for security purposes, must know the moods, manners, and intentions of their new charges. Is the "fish" mentally or physically sick? Is he antagonistic or dangerous? Will he harm himself or some inmate in his anger and frustration? This period of isolation is by far the worst part of imprisonment for any convict, but especially so for the prison novice. This is the danger point for the emotion-ally distraught and the mentally unbalanced; this is the period where the man, all alone, must separate himself from the world of the living he has "always known, and accept and adjust himself to the frightening new world of the living dead. It can very well be the ebb tide of his life. This is the time when, no matter if he has been lax in his practice of religion, an agnostic or even an atheist, he will, he must, within himself turn to God. He must if he is to survive. For be he Christian or Jew, Muslim or Buddhist, young man or old, every fibre of his body, mind, and spirit will search for someone or something to turn to--someone who is understanding and who will show forgiveness without reservations. And it is inevita-ble that sooner or later he must come to realize that the someone or something that fills all his desperately needed requirements is the Someone who has always been standing by to forgive, forget, and accept. Happy indeed is the individual who brings a Bible to prison with him. Very few prisons provide a newcomer with this precious and cherished book. Many times I have overheard convicts state their desire and need for a Bible. In some prisons the chaplains provide these holy texts out of their own pockets. To my knowledge and experience, though, no American prison voluntarily supplies them to their inmate population. I assume that the reason for this seemingly official attitude is felt to be in keeping with our inherent American principle of freedom of religion, or in this instance, freedom from religion. + ÷ ÷ TI~ l:leIplul Liter VOLUME 29, ~.970 4, 4, Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS :374 Again drawing from personal experience, I know just how fertile a field for converts prisons are. Much has been written about our jails and prisons being breeding places for more crime, moral deterioration, and physical perversion. This, too often, is the case. Men who are lonely, devoid of hope, ambition, and initiative are easily led. The professional criminal and perennial jailbird are too often the leaders. These emotional and moral misfits know only one path to take. If a man can-not find the comfort and solace he desperately needs in this crisis of his life from friends and family, he will seek these two important factors in one of two places: with his equally despondent, lonesome, and lost fellow-convicts, or in his God. And there are infinitely more convicts in prisons than there are messengers of the Lord. Peace of mind and acceptance of God's will are even more important in an imprisoned man's life than it is in a free man's. For, having broken both God's as well as man's laws, the prisoner is usually weighted down with a double sense of guilt and remorse. And many times I have seen the moral and spiritual rebirth of an individ-ual brought about by his reintroduction to his Maker through the Bible. I was born of God-loving Roman Catholic parents. In our home, belief and respect for God were made part of our daily lives. Furthermore, He was a most essential part. I was sent to parochial and higher schools and, as a result, was well versed in the fundamentals of my faith. It was only after I stupidly and callously began to disregard the teachings and tenets of my faith that I began to ruin my life, and even worse, the lives of those who loved, believed, and trusted me. That, to me, is the greatest tragedy of the man in prison--those he left on the outside. Like so many of my ilk, stewing in bitterness and shame, I gave little thought to God during my first years of imprisonment, particularly after I was no longer a "fish." I turned completely deaf ears to the overtures of the prison chaplain and to well-intentioned state of-ficials. My attitude was one of "these state officials put me in here and now they are trying to persuade me that they want to help me; how stupid do they think I am?" That's a question I often ask myself these days. I know now how stupid this line of destructive thinking is, but I didn't in those earlier days. I know, too, that this is the line of thought that most new inmates take. Out of sheer boredom and because it afforded me an opportunity to get out of my cell for an hour, I attended a few church services. But if I actually thought of God at all, it was to blame Him for having failed me--never my having failed Him. That should give you an idea of how stupid a man in prison can be. That old clichd of "misery loves company" really gets a workout in prison. I recall vividly some of the discussions I had with fellow-convicts during my first days in the "joint." Few, if any, were ever in a construc-tive vein. They were almost always filled with bitterness and recriminations; not directed at ourselves where they rightfully belonged, but at our captors, our wardens, and even at our families and friends. As for me, per-sonally, I was the epitome of bitterness, frustration, and hopelessness. Through my own stupidity and cupidity I had lost my family and friends (so I thought at the time), and instead of doing anything constructive about regaining these lost loved ones, I submerged myself in a sea of self-pity in which I almost drowned. I was simply over-flowing with moral indifference, false pride, and per-verted thinking. I was fast approaching a point of no return. That is the point in a man's life when one more foolish or careless mistake can completely and irrevoca-bly preclude any possibility of his again becoming a use-ful, acceptable part of the human race. Then, I met a convict named Alex. One day during a recreational period in the yard, an inmate I didn't know came up to me. Though I had never spoken to this convict, I knew about him. I had first noticed him through a peculiar habit he had. I should clarify that by stating that this habit was pecu-liar in prison; he carried a book under his arm wherever he went. Upon asking some of the other inmates about this, I was told that he was a "lifer" who had already served twenty years, who had little or no hope of a pardon or parole, and that he was a religious fanatic. In prison, the term "religious fanatic" has a wide meaning, ranging from a man who goes to church services once a year to a man who attends services regularly. Another thing that set this inmate in a separate category with his fellow-convicts was that he was a "loner." A "loner" in prison jargon is a convict who stays strictly to himself, has no friends or close associates, and never participates in any prison activities. Even the prison officials look askance at this type of a convict and pay particular at-tention to his every move. For "loners" are the ones who most frequently crack mentally or emotionally. This prisoner I am writing of was in his early fifties, of a serious demeanor, short and on the heavy side, and whose face, though handsome, was lined with suffering. His eyes indicated character and depth. The moment he spoke to me I knew he was well educated. He was courteous and had an air of quiet dignity about him, 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 2% 1970 375 + 4. Alan Ambovn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and I immediately sensed an aura of well-being and contented resignation emanating from him. He wasted no time on social discourse. His opening words were: "Alan, I understand you are a Catholic." As he saw the look of complete bewilderment on my face, he continued: "Father Jerome told me that you had been educated in Catholic schools and that you might be able to help me with my catechism. You see, I am a convert and I'm hoping to be baptized in the near future." I was too amazed to answer him. The first thought that went through my head was that this was a gag of some sort, perpetrated by the fellows I had been hanging around with. Noticing my hesitancy and seeming to read my mind, he went on: "I'm really serious about this, Alan, and though I haven't much, I'd be willing to pay you for your trouble." Something in his manner told me that he was in earnest, but I still hesitated. Finally, I asked him: "How come you and Father Jerome picked on me? I haven't been to Mass since coming here and, as a matter of fact, I have not even been inside a church in over two years." "We never discussed that," he replied. Then he con-tinued: "All we talked about was your school back-ground. Alan, there are a lot of fellows getting instruc-tions and Father, with all his other work, is getting snowed under. When I asked if there were any Catholic men here that might help me, your name came up. As I'm sure you know, each Catholic convert needs a baptismal sponsor. I have no family or friends, so I thought that you might." His voice trailed off, as if in embarrassment, and he waited to see what I would say. When I didn't answer, he said: "I swear to you that there was nothing put on or planned about my asking you this. Your name was alphabetically first and that is how I chose you. Father even warned me that you would not be very receptive to the idea, but I thought otherwise. I guess I was mis-taken. If you'd rather not do it, that's okay, too." He started to walk away. I perhaps will never know just what made me stop him, but stop him I did. It probably was the wisest decision I ever made: "If Father Jerome and you think I am qualified to help you, it's all right with me. Forget that talk about paying me. Remember this, though, it has been a long time since I've seen a catechism book or even discussed religion. You might very well know more about the subject than I do. If you really feel that I can be of some assistance, it's a deal." To this day I don't know what Father Jermone's mo- tives were in sending Alex to me. I honestly can't say whether he had a motive or not; but whatever the case, it helped the two of us. Alex was baptized and I re-turned to my lost faith. As I told Alex, I was very rusty on my catechism and had to do a lot of research. Alex's knowledge of the Bible was far superior to mine; and though, at first, he was kind enough to pretend that this was not the case, it wasn't long before I was the student and Alex was the tutor. His tremendous grasp of both the New and Old Tes-taments was amazing. He could quote verbatim lengthy passages from both texts and never in a parrot-like man-ner. He had a profound understanding of its parables and lessons. No matter what subject or problem we might be discussing, he could find a parallel in the Holy Book, and no matter how bleak a person's outlook on life might be, Alex's Biblical parallels always seemed to offer comfort and hope to the individual. Though I don't believe he ever realized it, Alex was a salesman for the Lord; and he was a good one. The one thing that impressed me and everyone who knew him was his obvious sincerity and his calm acceptance of a fate that was, by all standards, unenviable. As I mentioned previously, he was serving a life sentence with little or no hope of pardon. The fact that this out-wardly didn't raze him and his seemingly calm accept-ance of spending the rest of his life behind bars natu-rally puzzled me. I told him so on one occasion. He explained that when he had first arrived at the prison he had been bitter and lost. Due to his behavior pattern, he had spent forty-nine months of the first five years of his sentence in solitary confinement. It was during one of these sessions of enforced solitude that Alex was given a Bible. Sheer boredom and the lack of anything else to read led to his initial interest in the Book. He honestly admitted that this interest was fostered by a human desire to do something--anything--to help pass the endless hours he was forced to spend alone. Alex had never spoken of the crime that had put him in prison; and I, in keeping with prison custom, had never asked him. However, it was common "yard" gossip that it was murder. Alex told me that his behavior problem came from his overactive conscience and his inability to forget what he had done. He was in a position that thousands of convicts find themselves in. For though soc!ety had in-dicted, convicted, and punished him, and then legally forgotten him by reason of more notorious and head-lined crimes, Alex himself could not forget nor forgive ÷ + + VOLUME 29, 1970 4. ÷ Alan Amborn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 what he had done. His misbehavior and antagonistic attitude was a masochistic drive to punish himself. One day while going through the Bible in his solitary cell, he came across the story of Mary Magdalene. It fascinated him. Here was someone who had been steeped in sin like he was and who had asked for and had been given mercy and forgiveness. He went on with his reading, this time deeply impressed and eager. When he came to the story of the crucifixion, he was spell-bound. The agony and torture that Jesus went through wrung his heart. He told me that for the first time in his adult life, he wept. When he came to the climax of the great tragedy, the scene in which Christ, suffering unto death, took time out from His final agonies to forgive His murderers and the Good Thief hanging beside Him, Alex said a wave of understanding and peace descended on him. He said that he had gotten down on his knees to pray, and that while doing so he suddenly and finally knew that he had someone to turn to. Someone who would understand and forgive and who would give him a chance to atone for his sins and his crimes. This knowledge was what permitted Alex to accept his fate and lot so calmly. Through Alex and his application of the Bible in his daily life, I came to know and realize that many of our everyday seemingly insoluble problems have answers that can be found in the Holy Book. The trials and tribulations of our daily lives seem minute in compari-son to what the people of Biblical times faced. I believe that anyone possessed of an inherent sense of honesty detests hypocrisy. Convicts are no different. Any prison chaplain is constantly bombarded with this hackneyed excuse: "Padre, I didn't go to church on the outside, why should I be a hypocrite and start going now?" It's true, the words may differ on occasion, but the philosophy never changes. In many ways this atti-tude could be interpreted as an admirable quality in a man if it were not, in the case of the convict, such a stupid and senseless one. Anyone taking the time to look through the Bible can find any number of instances where even the most devoted and revered of God's saints were at one time in their lives steeped in sin and wickedness. Some, such as St. Paul, were even violently opposed to the teachings of Christ, God's beloved Son. From persecutor of the members of Christ's Church to a pillar of that Church is certainly a complete turn about in policy and belief. In other words, St. Paul was certainly no hypocrite. As Alex often pointed out to me, if the Lord could forgive and accept into His heavenly kingdom the murderer and thief hanging on the adjoining cross to Him; if He could forgive and accept into His earthly entourage Mary Magdalene, a woman who was a con-fessed harlot; if He, in His infinite mercy and in His dying agonies could even forgive His murderers, why, then, surely it should not be beyond belief and compre-hension that He could and does accept a modern-day sinner. His Bible constantly reminds us that eternal salvation is ours for the asking. Remember His very words, "Ask and you shall receive." I honestly believe that convicts might ask more often if they had Someone to show or to tell them how. To-day's prisons certainly offer a. fertile field for present-day missionaries. For just as the man or woman dying of pneumonia or a similar infectious disease needs the shot of penicillin more that the ,healthy man does, so does the acknowledged and convicted sinner need the word of God and the comfort and solace that word gives us all. And should any skeptic question the worth of these ¯ sinners and the redeeming of them, I humbly suggest that he read the Parable of the Prodigal Son. + + + VOLUME 29, ~.970 379 FREDERICK A. BENNETT What Makes a Happy (or Unhappy) Nun? Fr. Frederick A. Bennett is intern-ing in clinical psy-chology and lives at St. Therese Rec-tory; 1243 Kingston; Aurora, Colorado 80010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Innumerable books and articles have been written about nuns during the past few years. Yet very little empirical evidence has been brought forth supporting the contentions of the authors. Thousands of nuns have left their communities yet there is a dearth of scientific findings either explaining why these nuns have left or probing the present feelings of those remaining. This study was an attempt to provide a few basic facts relating to psychological factors, particularly happiness, as found today among American nuns. 950 sisters, chosen at random from an original mail-ing list of 35,000 individuals from 91 different active communities across the United States, were mailed a questionnaire in March of 1969. The form used had been tested on a pilot study in late 1968, had under-gone some revision due to findings on that pilot study, and was composed of 54 questions in its final form. Novices and postulants were deliberately excluded. Su-periors, when they could be identified, were replaced by non-superiors in the same convent. The nuns in-volved were guaranteed anonymity both for themselves and for their communities, were told that the results would be made available at least to people in a position to act on the findings, and were then asked for their cooperation. The hoped for cooperation was magnificent. One follow-up letter was mailed and at the conclusion, 853 sisters had returned their questionnaires. This totaled 88% of all possible respondents. The average age of those replying was 4'~ years. The results give a broad cross section of thinking and feelings of pro-fessed American nuns in non-leadership positions. An obvious caution is warranted, however, before considering some of the results. The findings cannot be applied to any individual sister. For example, age is found to correlate highly with happiness. It is dear, however, that this is a generalization. There are happy and unhappy nuns at every age level. But for those who are concerned about th~ future direction of religious life and what must be done on a broad scale to give it the greatest chance of surviving and growing, such generalizations can be of great value. This project falls into a category of psychological studies measuring "avowed happiness" or the happi-ness which a subject claims for himself. Such studies have a long history dating back at least until the 1920s. Recently, however, more extensive work in this area has been carried out through several centers of investigation. Two of the more notable undertakings were those carried out by Gurin and his associates in 19571 and by Bradburn and Caplovitz in 1962.2 The latter concentrated on four small towns in Illinois, two of which were economically depressed, and thus they have a dearly biased sample. Gurin, however, used a nationwide sample of 2460 people "selected by methods of probability sampling to represent all American adults over 21 years of age living in private house-holds." Gurin and associates, Bradburn and Caplovitz, and the present study all asked respondents to note what they considered to be their present level of happiness on a tripartite scale using the classifications of "Very happy," "Pretty happy," or "Not too happy." Despite the simi-larity of responses, however, the results are not ex-actly comparable because of other differences. For example, the replies from the sisters were obtained by mailed questionnaires while the other two projects used personal interviews. Nonetheless, curiosity at least, calls for a comparison of the results of the three studies. Bradburn and Caplovitz (women only) Gurin and associates (women only) Nuns Very happy 23% IPretty happy 60% 50% Not too happy 17% = 100% 12%--- 100% 13% = 100% A comparison of the replies of the subjects of Brad- + burn and Caplovitz in the four small Illinois towns ÷ with the answers of the sisters shows the religious to have both a higher percentage making "Very happy" XG. Gurin, J. Veroff, and S. Feld, Americans View Their Mental Happy Nun? Hea¯lth (New York: Basic Books, 1960). VOLUME 29, 1970 2 N. Bradburn and D. Caplovitz, Reports on Happiness: A Pilot Study o/ Behavior Related to Mental Health (Chicago: Aldine, 1965). 381 replies and a lower percentage giving "Not too happy" responses. As was mentioned above, however, by re-stricting their sample to the four small towns, the atuhors also assured themselves of a biased sample. When the replies of the sisters are compared with the subjects in Gurin's nationwide sample, there is vir-tually no difference in the total responses of the two groups. But a very important difference is found when replies are analyzed by age of respondent. A comparison with Gurin's work by age group shows the following: Gurin (all subjects) Nuns Percentage giving "Very happy" responses Under 35 35-44 45-54 55 and over 40% a~% a4% 27% 31% 31% 36°/o 39°/o ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 382 Gurin (all subjects) Nurl8 Percentage Under 35 giving "Not too happy" responses 35-44 45-54 55 and over 10% 13% 18% 15% ~4% 9% Thus as those who live outside of the convents grow older they show a gradual decrement in "Very happy" responses and an increase of "Not too happy" replies. But for the nuns the trend is in the opposite direction. The nuns who are older tend to have a greater per-centage of their members answering in the "Very happy" category than do younger nuns. Likewise, these older sisters have fewer making "Not too happy" re-sponses. The youngest nuns while claiming less happi-ness than the older nuns also avow less happiness than their age counterparts outside of religious life. One immediate reason that might be advanced for the trend toward greater happiness with advancing age among nuns is that less satisfied members of communi-ties have tended to leave and the more satisfied have tended to remain with the passage of years in religion. This does not seem, however, to account for all of the differences since nuns in the older groups today have lived most of their religious lives in a period when leaving the convent after profession was often the exceptional case. Moreover, the younger groups have already suffered a severe depletion of their ranks and yet the ones who remain are much less happy than those in the older groups. A factor that is considered to contribute to the lessened happiness in older people outside of convents is the loneliness that comes to elderly people through loss of a spouse or breakup of the family. The nuns do not have the problem of widowhood and remain with their communities regardless of their age, This may explain, at least partially, why the older nuns claim greater happiness than older non-nuns. It does not ex-plain, however, the differences between older and younger sisters since both seem to have the same op-portunities to avoid loneliness. But since the degree of loneliness is an important factor in the lives of many, and perhaps most people, a question in the present study was directed toward the investigation of their relative loneliness. The question was phrased as follows: How frequently do you feel lonely? Often __Occasionally __Seldom __Never An analysis of replies to this question uncovered a significant negative correlation between loneliness and the basic question of happiness. Actually, the correla-tion of happiness with loneliness was greater than the correlation of happiness with any other element of the nun's life that was tapped in this study. The basic cor-relation between the two was --.50 which could be expected far less than once in a thousand times simply on the basis of chance alone. The meaning of this correlation is that those who tend to report more frequent instances of loneliness also tend to claim sig-nificantly less happiness for themselves. The question must arise in every correlation as to which is the cause and which is the effect. Thus in the present case, does the loneliness cause the unhappiness, or do those who are unhappy tend to be lonely because they are unhappy? Or is some third factor causing both the loneliness and the unhappiness? Although the ques-tion is insoluble at the present time, one of the sugges-tions that will be made later in this article is based on the premise that loneliness is causing some of the unhappiness and that a major point of concentration should be that of overcoming loneliness. Other significant correlates of happiness were also found. In advance it was hypothesized that three ele-ments would figure prominently in the overall 'happi-ness of nuns. These three can be summarized as inter-personal relations, job satisfaction, and leadership. All were found to be significantly correlated with happiness. Loneliness was considered as pertaining 'to inter-personal relations. But there were also other questions + + + What Makes a Happy Nun? VOLUME 29, 1970 383 pertaining to interpersonal relations that showed a high correlation with happiness. For example, one of the questions asked: Do you feel that the majority of sisters with whom you live really are interested in you as a person? ._____Definitely ___.Probably ~robably not Those who are happier tend to say that they feel that other members of the convent are interested in them as a person and those who are less happy take a dimmer view of the interest of others. In job satisfaction, another highly significant correla-tion with happiness (.34, p. < .001) was found. Those who said they found their job more satisfying also tended to be happier. Leadership was also significantly correlated (.34, p < .001) with happiness. The more favorably the sister rated her superior, the happier she was likely to be. The immediate conclusion is that interpersonal re-lations, job satisfaction, and evaluation of leadership are all significantly related to happiness. But it is most interesting that of the three, leadership and job sati~- faction are less important than interpersonal relation-ships. This is especially worthy of consideration because so much more effort at renewal in many communities seems to be directed toward improving job satisfaction and changing leadership patterns rather than toward improvirig interpersonal relations among the nuns themselves. + ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Leadership An example of leadership modifications is found in communities that have eliminated the local superior. The opportunity to investigate the benefits of this change in leadership role was available in this study since 123 sisters said that they were living in a convent in which there was no local superior. In examining these figures, however, it should be remembered that not having a superior allows for a diversity of ways of being carried out in practice; and no attempt was made to define more exactly what each of the 123 nuns meant when she said that she had no local superior. But taking all those without a superior as one group, no significant difference in happiness was found be-tween those having a superior and those not having one. There was actually a slight tendency for those with a superior to claim greater happiness than those without a superior but this may have been merely a chance happening that would be reversed on another sample. The following are the percentage of responses in both groups: Have a superior Do not have a superior Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy 37% 49% 14%-- 100% 32% ~4% ~4% = ioo% Therefore it appears that simply not having a superior does not necessarily improve chances for happiness among members of the community. Sisters who had a local superior were asked to rate their superior in the following question: How do you evaluate the job of leadership being done by your present local superior? __.Excellent ~_Fair ~.Poor __.Very poor An interesting comparison appears when those who do not have a superior are matched with those rating their superior either high or low. Sisters rating superior good/excellent Sisters rating superior poor/very poor No superior Very happy ~6% 23% 32% Pretty happy 46% Not too happy 8% = 1oo% 33% := 100% i4% = 100% Thus being without a local superior is not as favor-able as having a good superior but is preferable to hav-ing a superior whom the subject feels is doing a poor job. Another area that is of importance today in the question of leadership is that some local communities are able to choose their superior in contrast to the former policy of having all superiors appointed either by the major superior or by vote of the chapter. In this study 82 nuns said that they had been allowed to select their own superior. For this group the following percentages were found: Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy Chose their own 50% 40% 10% = 100% superior ÷ ÷ 4. What Malws a These figures indicate that being able to elect a VOLO~E mo ~gro superior is a very desirable arrangement. Gomparing $85 these figures with those given above for sisters rating their superior as good or excellent, the groups are very similar in their avowals of happiness. Consequently it seems preferable to elect a superior rather than to eliminate her altogether. Election is also, of course, far preferable to having a poor superior imposed from above. + + F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 Departures Sisters have been leaving in substantial numbers dur-ing recent years. To determine the unrest that still re-mains in the convents the following question was asked: During the past six months, which of the following would describe feelings or thoughts you have had about leaving religious life? (60%) I have not considered leaving (23%) I have considered leaving but not seriously (10%) I have seriously considered leaving but have de-cided against it (5%) I have seriously considered leaving and may do so (2%) I will probably leave 100% (The percentage of sisters responding in each way is noted in parentheses before each response.) Although the majority of nuns have not considered leaving during the past six months, a substantial minor-ity of 40% have at least had the idea of leaving enter their minds during that period. Moreover, 17% have seriously considered such a possibility. Thus, although only 7% were still seriously considering leaving when this study was conducted, there is a large group that is somewhat shaky and it is not unlikely that many of this group will again have the idea of departing enter their minds. In addition those who do actually leave will probably intensify thoughts of leaving in others and may induce such thoughts in some of those who have not considered it. It appears, therefore, under this inter-pretation of the figures that the exodus from convents is far from completed unless very drastic changes come about in the thinking of present members. When thoughts of leaving are analyzed by age of respondent, very important differences are again noted. The percentages in each age group are on p. 387. As would be expected, the younger groups are much more likely to be thinking of leaving than are the older nuns. But the extent of the differences between the groups is rather surprising. It is especially important that 73% of the youngest group has considered leaving and 40% have seriously considered it. Thus those who will be leaving will usually be the ones who formerly would be carrying the hopes for religious life in the Have not considered leaving Considered but not seri-ously Seriously considered leav-ing May leave Probably will leave Under 28 ] 27% 33% 10% 100% 28-34 43% 15% 7% lOO% 35-44 57% 25% 8% 8% 2% 100% 4~-55 66% 5% 100% Over 55 89% 4% 0% 0% 1oo% future. A further comment on the ramifications of this will be made later in this article. Other Findings Religious life is directed in large measure toward supernatural and eternal goals. The question arises whether remaining in religious life is dependent on present happiness. There was another highly significant correlation of .47 between happiness and the tendency to remain. This strongly suggests that they are related. Regardless, therefore, of how religious life may have been viewed by spiritual writers in the past, in today's convents present happiness is of importance. The nuns who are less happy are generally the ones who are doing the most thinking about leaving. Religious life cannot be divorced from the spiritual activities of the sisters. But in trying to analyze the influence of spirituality, many very obvious and perhaps insoluble problems arise. Because of these difficulties a very simple question was asked. This question did not attempt to assess the influence that the spirituaI ac-tivities have. It merely inquired about the satisfac-tion that the sister receives. The question was phrased in this manner: How would you describe your usual feelings about the daily spiritual exercises that you are expected to perform? __.I find them very satisfying .I find them somewhat satisfying __.I get little human satisfaction from them Another significant correlation was found with hap-piness. Those who are happier tend to receive greater ÷ satisfaction from their spiritual exercises. But here ÷ especially, the relationship of cause and effect is blurred. ÷ Such a finding could signify that because the sisters are What Makes a happier they thereby tend to be more satisfied with Happy Nun? their spirituality. But it could also signify that because the sister receives greater satisfaction from her formal VOLUME 29, 1970 praying, she thereby tends to be happier. Or again, a 387 ÷ ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~388 third and unknown factor may well be present which is influencing both happiness and satisfaction from spirit-ual exercises. Much research iri past years in social psychology has been devoted to the ideal size of various types of groups. Generally, the best size is found to be less than 12. It was therefore somewhat surprising to find that the number of people residing in the convent in which the sister lives had little effect on her happiness. There were similar reports of happy and unhappy sisters in all sizes of convents. Size was related, however, to some other aspects of the sisters' lives. For example, signifi-cantly more indications of jealousy were found in the largest convents. Conclusions Religious life as we know it seems to be headed for more rough days ahead. Unrest among the nuns is far from terminated. With 40% of the sisters saying that they have at least considered the possibility of leaving their communities within the previous six months, ~many more departures can be anticipated. Moreover, the thoughts of leaving are heavily con-centrated among the younger age groups. When this factor is combined with the importance of interpersonal relationships among the nuns, another disturbing pre-dicament becomes apparent. The younger members are tending to leave more rapidly than the older; if this trend continues, the average age of members of the communities will advance. New young members enter-ing the community in the future will find it all the more difficult to find convents when they go on mission that are staffed by nuns of their own age. A consequence would seem to be that these young nuns of the future will have even greater difficulty in establishing close relationships with other nuns and therefore the chances for loneliness will increase. It is certainly possible and often happens that a young nun finds companionship and meaningful re-lationships with older nuns. But it is more likely for the young nun to find that necessary companionship among nuns of her own age level. Again, this study was not related only to individuals as such, many of whom will go contrary to the findings of this work. Rather the concern was with the overall conditions of religious life. Here it can be said that as the average age of sisters increases, a larger proportion of young nuns will likely find it increasingly difficult to overcome the loneliness that is probably causing some present problems. A personal anecdote may be appropriate here. I re- cently had contact with a large community of contem-plative nuns in which the youngest member had already celebrated her silver jubilee in the community. This convent had not been able to retain the few novices or postulants that had been with them in recent years. Moreover, it would seem to me to be a minor miracle if any young women could be found to enter and re-main in a convent where they would have to bear with such a wide disparity of age. Fortunately such cases are not common today; but unless solutions can be found, it seems likely that other communities, both active and contemplative, may experience somewhat similar difficulties in the coming decades. Further evidence for the stumbling blocks that wide age discrepancies can pose for religious life comes from one of the open-ended questions that were included in the questionnaire. The nuns were asked what they found to be the least satisfying or most discouraging aspect of their life as a religious. The differences be-tween the age groups were striking. For example, a 59 year old nun answered: "The frustration with some younger members." A 30 year old sister said: "Judgmental attitudes of older sisters toward myself." A 73 year old sister pinpointed the age gap saying: "The lack of close communication between the much older sister and the New Modern Sister." Perhaps the split between the generations was most apparent in the attitudes toward change. Frequently the older nuns were most disturbed by what seemed to them to be excesses and the younger were distressed by what they considered to be the hesitancy of some members to change. This was not universal, however, as a few of the older came out with high praise" for the changes but these latter were the exceptions. In general, the generation gap was clear. But as important as age is in laying a foundation for compatibility among sisters, similar age does not insure good interpersonal relations. There are other elements involved in coming to an understanding and meaning-ful relationship with another person or persons. Many psychological, intellectual, and emotional factors are involved. Outside of religious life, freedom of the in-dividuals to choose the companions they wish to have takes account of some of these factors. Freedom to choose one's own companions has never been considered feasible in religious life until very re-cently when it has been tried in a few communities. There was no opportunity in this study to test the value of such a procedure. But an indication of the possible advantages of this arrangement may be inferred fi:om the decided advantage noted of being able to select What ~l~l~e~ a Happy Nun? VOLUME 2% 1970 389 ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 one's own superior. This latter also was not considered feasible until very recent years. With all of the inherent problems involved in being able to select the ones that the sister wishes to live and work with, further con-sideration of such a possibility seems warranted. Additional training in the development of interper-sonal relationships during the novitiate and juniorate may also prove advantageous. Some communities have used sensitivity training and T-groups for this purpose. Unfortunately, there is again no empirical evidence to base a sound judgment upon as to the advantages of such training. But in view of the problems connected with interpersonal relationships within the convents, such training merits consideration and research. Decreasing loneliness among the sisters is not solely dependent upon interpersonal relationships within the convent itself. Nonetheless, community life should be a basic bulwark against loneliness. As of now, however, community life is sometimes [ailing to accomplish this. The findings of this study, however, were not com-pletely negative. There was strong evidence that loneli-ness is not an inherent part of religious life. Not a few of the nuns recounted their experiences in having deep friendships with other sisters as one of the great plus values of religious life. In response to the question: "What do you consider the most satisfying aspect of your life as a religious?" a 34 year old sister replied: "The sisters I live with at the present time." A 64 year old sister replied to the same question saying succinctly: "The sisters." "Community living; the spirit of our com-munity (friendliness and joy)," was the response of a 28 year old nurse. A 39 year old teacher answered that it was "living with sisters who are interested in me as a person," while a 53 year old sister cited "the possibility [or personal fulfillment found in community living" as the most satisfying part of her religious life. It is obvious from these responses that loneliness does not have to accompany religious life. But it has also been shown above that community life does not insure that loneliness will not be present. In summation it can be said that new approaches to interpersonal relationships are needed. The gravity of this need is brought into focus by the distinct possibility that the whole question could become academic. With 70% of the youngest group already considering leav-ing the trend could conceivably be against the continued existence of present type congregations. Reversal of such a trend is not impossible but will take much concen-trated effort. LOUIS TOMAINO The Sister as an Agent oJ.Change As Warren Bennis and his colleagues have suggested, radical change is the one constant which seems to char-acterize this age.1 It seems clear that change is occurring in both the church and in religious orders of women. Sisters are all too familiar with problems of change for they are confronted with the problem of trying to bring about meaningful change in their congregations. They have the task of sorting out planned change from ac-cidental change so that only the more constructive as-pects of the process may be realized and the sisters helped to find more satisfying levels of community existence. Change in this instance may be the basic con-dition for the freedom without which religious life might well become increasingly difficult and unreward-ing; yet, from the standpoint of short range needs, it is often more comfortable for individual sisters not to change. The reluctance of an individual to give up old ways of doing things is understandable when one con-siders the meanings change may have for those who face it. : Out of the many things which could be said about sisters and change, we have selected the idea that sister is an "agent of change" in her own community. If this is true, it might also be added that, in general, she plays the same role in the Church itself and in her apostolate. In the past two years, we have held group dynamics workshops with over 1000 sisters from various congrega-tions during which time we have stressed the change agent concept. In their case, the issue no longer seems to be whether change should occur, but rather, what change is to be encouraged and how might it be facili-tated? This paper reports on some things which char-acterize sisters and change. 1 Warren G. Bennis, Kenneth D. Benne, and Robert Chin, The Planning of Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962). Louis Tomaino is the acting direc-tor of Worden School of Social Services; Our Lady of the Lake College; San Antonio, Texas 782O7. VOLUME 29, 1970 391 Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, two inventive be-havioral scientists, conceptualized a model called the managerial gridS which unified their lengthy study of management and organizational structures. This model proved highly successful in understanding the manage° rial process and helped .develop new techniques in management. Jay Hall and Martha Williams, social psychologists at the Southwest Center for Law and the Behavioral Sciences and former students of Blake and Mouton, utilized the grid concept with an instrument called the change grid. This grid was extremely valuable in workshops with the 1000 sisters. Sisters who are interested in meaningful community change might be expected to have some concerns about the quality of the change. These concerns provide the basic grid dimensions and are expressive of the sisters' thoughts. These are the concern for conformity (that members adhere to community norms) and the concern for commitment (that members truly internalize com-munity norms). Put another way, this says that sisters should comply with what the community expects but do so because they really accept and value those expectations. These dual concerns will affect the kind of change strategies a sister would utilize in her community. The two concerns are thought of as being independ-ent of each other. The sister may fuse them in some way in her relations with other community members but the concerns appear thusly in the beginning: C 0 M MITME NT (The complete grid appears on the following page) Loui~ 2"omai.o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CONFORMITY Different sisters impute varying strengths to these con-cerns. Those who perceive themselves as "traditional-ists" may exhibit more conformity interests, while those who view themselves as "progressives" might prefer commitment concerns in their approaches to change. So ~ Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, The Managerial Grid (Hous-ton: Gulf Publishing Co., 1964). that we might consider "how much" concern sisters manifest, each axis is scaled from 1 to 9. The value 1 will mean "low concern for" while the unit 9 will de-note "high concern for." Three methods of securing change assume that the concerns for conformity and commitment are in con-flict-- that communities cannot hope to insure both ends and must thereby choose one over the other. These methods (reading grid fashion, fight and up) are the 9/1, 1/9, and I/1 approaches. High THE CHANGE GRID ~/9 Ptrson-~Tentsred Clu~ng~t : There is a natural trend toward personal growth once an individual is free to accept himself. The task of the change agent is to help the person accept his strengths and weaknesses without the judgmental pressures of othersD values being in-troduccd. Then he will be able to accept both society and its values. 9/9 C~ang¢ ola CndiMli~y : Since behavior is learned, it may b~ modified through relearning. The change agent's task is one of creating conditions under which people can learn the consequences of current behavior and explore the feasibility of new behavior~ in realistic settings. Reality testing resalts in conformity based on commitment. Low Charismatic ~hangt : People accept suggestions only from people they can respect. The change agent must be "one of the guys" ff he is to gain enough prestige to influence. Changees will copy his behavior to win his respect and will then learn it is better. ~ustodial No one person can really change another. People only conform or fail to conform if they want to. The task of the change agent nccessarily is one of apprising the changce of the rules and then leaving it up to him to decide whether he wants to follow them and stay out of t~ouble or break them and suffer the conse-quences. At the same time, the change agent must keep those in authority informed as to how the changee is behaving. 9/t C~angt Via C~mplianrt: It may not be possible to change a personDs attitude, but one can change his behavior if he makes it elear what is expected of the changcc and what can happen if the changee fa~ls to conform. The change agent's taak is to transmit this information dearly and then to follow up by keeping "tabs'~ on the changee to see that he con-forms and knows that the change agent means business. 4 5 6 7 8 9 High Coastrn for Conformity The 9/1 .4pproach--Change through Compliance The lower right hand corner of the grid tells of that change strategy which is maximally concerned for con-fortuity and minimally concerned for commitment. This sister decides that community members cannot do both Agent oJ Change vo~u~ 2,, ~97o 393 Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~9~ so it is better to use one approach and make it work. The 9/1 sister will likely express her philosophy in this manner: It's been my experience that people do things only when they have to. A lot of the time sisters can't possibly agree with the way the Church says they have to conduct themselves, but they have to nevertheless., or suffer the consequences. Once a per-son realizes this, he makes it easier on himself and everybody else. I think change can best be brought about by spelling out what is expected of a person and what provisions exist for dealing with him when he doesn't conform. My job, as an agent of change, is to work with persons closely and see that they follow the letter of the law so that their behavior is acceptable and in accordance with general values o£ the Church. The 9/1 strategy does bring about change in many instances. The thing communities need to be aware of is some of the consequences which this approach pro-duces in others. Such responses as fear, rebellion, re-sentment, and hostility are byproducts in others of the 9/1 stance. Such psychological outcomes are unfavor-able for effecting change in the people who have those feelings. Under this system the community must be run as a "tight ship" with few democratic overtones. Indeed, for many years religious communities functioned as 9/1 organizations. Some still do. However, other 9/1 systems like the military and the police have begun to change albeit imperceptibly. With the advent of Vatican II, religious orders have also witnessed a trend away from compliance oriented styles of management. It used to be that sisters' behaviors could be regulated under con-ditions allowing little deviation from specified require-ments, and that by this fait accompli effect sisters would eventually acquire commitment. This "legalized" ap-proach to change does not seem a very satisfactory method for inducing long term commitment. The 1/9.4pproach--Person-cente~ed Change The person-centered strategy represented in the upper left grid corner assumes that people want to gain the values of the congregation and will gravitate toward that end when they are "freed" to do so. Concerns for conformity are rejected as antithetical to free choice. Person-centered change is designed to help the sister ac-cept her own shortcomings as a means of finding herself in her community and accepting others as well. Trust and appreciation are central to this relationship and concerns for conformity are seen as "getting in the way" of real commitment. This sister would likely perceive matters as follows: Basically people want to live good lives and get along well in their communities, but many of them just don't knowhow. Too many people have never had the opportunity to get to know themselves and, consequently, they can't really accept themselves or other people. I think the job of an agent of change is to work closely with people so that they can first learn to accept themselves as genuinely important human be-ings. Then they will be able to accept and appreciate others as well and will feel worthy of the religious life. Once a person has gotten rid of his own self doubts, he will naturally begin to grow and seek out the solid values of his congregation. The job of the change agent is one of helping people find self-ac-ceptance and freedom of expression, on the basis of which real growth can occur." The 1/1 Approach--Laissez Faire Change CustodiaI change as depicted in the lower left-hand corner of the grid presumes that individuals are autoge-nous and change or fail to do so as a result of their own desires. This really is not a change strategy but more a reflection of the change agent's unique perception of his own role. These sisters believe in "the way we have always done things" and think that change is up to other persons. Her philosophy would read like this: I believe that in the long run it is impossible for one person to really change another. Human nature is the strongest determinant of behavior and some people are just naturally better than others. It seems to me that the best thing for an agent of change to do is to spell out the rules for people as clearly as he can and then let them make their own choice as to whether they are going to follow them or not. Where there are clear rules, there are also pretty clear consequences spelled out for any failure to conform. People are pretty much their own bosses and it isn't realistic for any one person to try to change them. At best, a change agent is a representative of his community who hopes and prays that others will obey. In the end this way of thinking will promote "don't rock the boat" values, and terminate in "rut." Idealistic 1/9 type candidates who enter the 9/I congregations might well end up making 1/1 adjustments, Psychic en-ergy gets diverted to secondary external matters such as housecleaning, posturing, gestures,, and various other correctness models. Under these conditions communities may appear to function smoothly because everything seems to be in order. Underlying this facade, however, is a profile of non-involvement by community members with each other and, sometimes, an apparently perfunc-tory apostolic performance. The 5/5 Approach--Charismatic Change In the grid center we find a 5/5 strategy which says that the sister must have concern for both conformity and commitment. However, this approach also states that the more concern exhibited for one means less for the other. In effect, this sister goes half way with both concerns. She seeks to gain the respect and affection of Agent o~ Change V0LU~E 29, 197o 395 Louis To'malne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 others and utilizes this commitment to herself as a per-son to bring about change in others. Her philosophy is expressed along these lines: I think people basically resent being told what to do or what is expected of them by other people who don't really understand their problems or have had no experience in com-mon with them. I think the agent of change has to be a person who understands the situation of the people he is trying to change so that they will respect his judgment. The best way to bring about change is to first convince people that you are "one of them" and then set the exam.pie. When a person sees someone he respects and can trust acting a certain way, he will usually try to act the same way simply because he respects that person and wants to be respected by him in turn. This is a hard but effective way of bringing about change and the agent of change has to be sincere and willing to really give of his time. Change through 5/5 dynamics can be very effective. Its implementation is difficult because it requires a highly

Issue 28.2 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDIT~)R R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant edRor, as wel! as books for review, should be sent to ~EVIE~,V FOR RELIOIOUSj 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32t Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, ~be editoria| ot~ices being located at 612 llumboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Questions for answering should be seni to the address of the Questions and Answers editor, MARCH ~969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 2 ANDRE AUW, C.P. The Evangelical Counsels: Ways of Becoming Free- Many years ago a young man walked into a Jewish synagogue and at the time for the readings, arose, took the scroll that was handed to Him, and read the follow-ing lines: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me Because the Lord has anointed me To bring good tidings to the afflicted, He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, Toproclaim liberty to the captives, Andthe opening of the prison to those who are bound. The young man, of course, was Jesus Christ, a man sent by God to be a liberator of men: And His mission was never more beautifully described than in those words of Isaiah which he read to the assembly: "He has sent'me to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to .those who are bound." The mission was one of liberation, of enabling men to become free. If it is true that our mission as religious is the same as Christ's mission, then it is important thatwe .examine the vows, and the counsels on which they are based, in the light of freedom. And so I have chosen to do this, tO discuss the vows as possible means of liberating us as persons, so that we can help others to become liberated. I would like to begin this consideration of the vows with a personal reflection that might serve as a frame-work for my approach. For the past five years I have been working with a great variety of groups: college students, married couples, priests, religious--men and women of all faiths or of no faith. And I have been surprised at the consistency of their impressions of re-ligious, Gradually I have been able to weave together a fabric + ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P., writes from the Center for Students of the Person; P.O. Box 2157; La Jolla, California 92037. VOLUME 28," 1969 .175 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from their attitudes and responses. It is a fabric that is not pleasant to touch. I have the impression that their one dominant way of evaluating us is ~in terms of free-dom. For the most part they see us as terribly unfree. They see us as dedicated, well-intentioned men and women, who are, nevertheless, imprisoned by our way of life, trapped by our traditions, hemmed in, and, as the c.ollege students say, "hung up" by our systems and legal prescriptions. The most vocal expression of these feelings has come from the college student groups. And perhaps that is why my initial reaction to this consistent message was one of annoyance and irritation. I found myself rather defensive at what seemed to be an adolescent smugness on the part of these students, and at what appeared to be a. very unfair and unbalanced evaluation. Not all reli-gious are so rigid, unfree, trapped, and hemmed in. That was my initial reaction, But when I reflected a little more I discovered that I was reacting to things I did not want to believe could be true. And when I could be more honest with myself, I had to admit that this is the very image that many religious, including myself, have projected. My pondering also gave me some other valuable in-formation. Not only were these people telling me things about myself that I found hard to hear. They were also trying to tell me things about themselves which they found hard to bear. They were speaking of their fears. Seeing me unfree they were reminded of their own fear of never becoming free enough to be a mature loving person. They thought of their fear of being swallowed up in an impersonal, computerized society, of their fear of .being trapped by outdated traditions and hemmed in by unreasonable laws. All of their fears and frustrations which have been spilling out in bloody streaks from Watts to Washington, D.C., from the lawns of Berkeley to the halls of Columbia, were freshly underlined. It seems that they had turned toward, me, a religious, in hope, but finding me unfree, had turned away from me in sadness. They felt they must search elsewhere to find someone free enough to be able to show them the way to freedom. ¯ And so it seems to me to be a vital need to consider the vows in the light of freedom, to measure them by the manner in which they measure up as liberating forces in our lives. Nietzsche once said: "If they¯want me to believe in their God. they are going to have to sing better hymns for me; they are going to have to show me that they are men who have been liberated." Mod-ern man is saying the same thing to us today. He knows the message of Christ is essentially ]iberative, and be wants to see how well that message has liberated the religious who call themselves witnesses, before he will. consider buying it. In order to understand the vows as ways of becoming free we should understand what we mean by .freedom. It is not the ability to do whatever pleases me. That is narcissism. St. Paul has described it beautifully in the following instruction to the Galatians: "You should be free to serve one another in love" (Gal 5:14). And Doctor Carl Rogers spells that out a little more sharply when he talks about "a freedom which. [man] courageously uses to live his potentialities., which assists [him] in becoming human, in relating to others, in being a per-son." This is a freedom which makes us responsible lovers, concerned about responding sensitiveIy to others and not inhibited by the shadows of our own fears. How can the vows be ways of enabling us as religious to possess this kind of freedom? Let us examine them separately. First, poverty. What is there about this way of being a.nd living which can be liberating for us? In view of the definition of freedom as the ability to serve my brother in love, I would see poverty as a statement of value. For me, the true spirit of poverty is a way of being which can help me to tell my brother that I consider him more important than the material possessions I can acquire. And by not being so dependent upon .having things I am truly freer to share myself with others. Not needing to satisfy so many of my own desires, I can be more open and responsive to the needs of others. This is certainly the accent that we find in Scripture. Having things or not having things is of secondary importance in New Testament reflection on poverty. The emphasis is not on having, but on being: being able to "be" for others. The tragedy of the rich man Dives in the Lazarus story is not that he was wealthy, but that his wealth had made him insensitive and in-capable of meeting the needs of his suffering brother. There is, I feel, a parallel today in the attitude of people towards the poverty of religious. I do not be-lieve that intelligent people are harshly critical of us be-cause we possess large buildings and bank accounts. But they are severely critical when our buildings or our money keep us aloof and uninvolved in serious social issues. They can tolerate our need for some kind of. status but they cannot forgive us when we are incapable of service. As religious we need help in order to appreciate pov-erty as a way of freeing us from the paralyzing effect of accumulated material possessions. Freeing us from the demands of our own egos, so that we can walk--or even + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 177 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS run--to meet the needs of others. And so that we can do this without wanting a lot of "extras." When we do not have this spirit, something rather ugly happens to us even though we do not consciously promote it. We become very protective of our own in-terests. Speaking in another context, Charles Davis re-ferred to this self-service: The official church is racked with fear, insecurity and anxiety, with a consequent intolerance and lack of love. And what frustrates any effort at remedy is the perpetual dominance of the system over the person., the system always comes first. I would like to hope that I could become a different kind of religious, one who is seen as valuing the human person above any thing or system. I would like to be seen by those whom I serve as poor in material posses-sions, but rich in caring, unselfish as I serve them, and sometimes even a bit joyous in the sharing of myself: what I am and what I have as a Christ-person. This is the kind of witness that modern man needs and wants. He is terribly frustrated and unhappy with his accumulated wealth. He finds the things he possesses getting in the way of his relationships with the people he loves. And he does not know how to free himself. He needs people who can show him a new set of values and a new way of being with people. And finally, in regard to poverty, it is worthwhile re-calling that when Christ, after the miracle of Naim, was asked: "Are you the Messiah?" He responded not by pointing to the miracle of new life given to a dead man. Instead, He said: "Go and tell John what you see., the poor have the gospel preached to them." That was, and is still, the sign par excellence of the messianic liberator. It is the sign that shows people what Christ and His message are all about. Next let us examine obedience as a way of becoming free. I especially like Father Van Kaam's concept of obedience. It is taken from the root meaning of the word, "obaudire," which means "to hear." For me, obedience can be a wonderfully freeing thing when it is understood as a sensitive listening to the heartbeat of the Christian community. I think I would also add, a responsive and responsible listening. This means that those in authority and those under them have a need to listen to one an-other, to listen together to those they are committed to serve. It is responsive, and this implies a kind of generous spontaneity which is far removed from docile acceptance of an order. And it is responsible, which implies the recognition of an obligation that stems from a love com-mitment. For many the word obedience conjures up fantasies of force and control and restriction. How then can obedience be seen as a liberating force? I believe that one factor which can truly make obedience liberating is the factor of trust. The social and behavioral scientists have done con-siderable work in the area of authority relationships and they have discovered some interesting facts. They have found that when a climate of trust exists in a group, the people who are in positions of authority, are more re-laxed and do not feel a need to maintain tight kontrol and supervision. They are inclined to be open to sug-gestions for change. Those who are working for them tend to produce better and to assume responsibility for the welfare of the group as well as for the work they must do individually. One of the elements which Doctor Jack Gibb isolated in groups where authority relationships were poor was the attitude on the part of those in positions of leadership. These leaders held two assumptions regarding those who worked for them: that they were not to be trusted, and that they were irresponsible. Unfortunately, in many cases, these assumptions became a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy which created the very conditions that man-agement sought to avoid. There may well be similar assumptions on the part of religious superiors. We have had a long heritage of pro-tectiveness, and it is hard to effectively break away frown these patterns. Undoubtedly the atmosphere of trust is much better now than it was ten years ago, but there most likely is still a great deal of work to be done in religious communities in this area. Our obedience can be lib-erating for us only when, together, we can begin to as-sume that we can be trusted and that we can be re-sponsible for ourselves. Paradoxical as it may sound, a person must be truly independent before he can surrender himself to another. Thus I, as a religious, must experience your trust and my own responsibility before I can surrender my needs and desires in such a way that together we can listen sensi-tively to the needs of the community we serve. It is then, and only then, that I can find it possible to accept a diffi-cult assignment or perform unpleasant tasks as a respon-sive and responsible lover. Doctor Carl Rogers has said that in order to be a really effective teacher a person must have a profound trust in the human organism and its potentialities. Otherwise he will cram the student full of all the information he thinks is good for him rather than help the student to learn what is important for him. Having worked with Doctor Rogers I can state that this is not mere theory for him; it is the way he functions with people. He pre- + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 179 ÷ ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS' fers to be gullible, to take people at face value, .and to believe the things they say to him. And oddly enough, people are so warmed by this kind of unconditional ac-ceptance that they soon stop telling lies and cease trying to impress. They find they no longer have to hide their refil feelings, and it is a very wonderful experience for them. By experiencing the trust of a loving person they were.able to begin to surrender a bit of themselves. I believe it is this kind of trust which is needed to transform our understanding of obedience. Obedience should not make us docile conformists, but responsible lovers. Today more than ever before we need a concept of obedience which will enable, us to assume responsi-bility for our actions and our lives. We need greater power to freely surrender our self-centered desires and needs. The example of Peter in the New Testament seems to be a striking illustration of the kind of obedience I am talking about. Peter began his authority relationship with Christ feeling very insecure. He made a great many mistakes, yet each time he did so, Christ confirmed him as a person by making him feel that He still trusted him. The peak experience for Peter came during the meet-ing with Christ outside the palace of the high priest. Peter, ashamed at his betrayal, finally found the courage to look at Christ, and that loving glance of the Master made Peter aware that Christ still believed in him, still trusted him. It was only after this that Peter felt secure enough to accept the responsible task of shepherding the flock for Christ. It was Christ's trust of Peter that made' possible the entrusting of the flock to him. And it was this same trust that transformed Peter into a re-sponsive and responsible lover. This is a way of being that modern man wants to dis-cover very badly. He finds it so hard to reach beyond the limits of his own ego. He is searching for someone who can show him an obedience which is an exercise of responsibility freely chosen, and yet something binding and demanding because that is the way of love. Modern man needs to experience this kind of trust-filled loving so that he too can become free to love. He wants to be able to say in the words of The Little Prince: "I am re-sponsible for my rose." That would be for him the state-ment of a truly obedient man, rejoicing in an obedience which is richly liberating. Finally we come to the vow of celibate love. I have chosen to discuss it under this title rather than that of chastity because I believe this best expresses, the real meaning o.f the vow. There has been so much written on celibacy in the past year that I iliad it difficult say something which will ,1 not be excessively redundant. Perhaps the best approach will be to share some of my reactions to recent articles that I have read. Frankly, I am not impressed byo being told that I am an eschatological sign because I am a celibate. I really do not think that the men and women who come in contact with me are go.ing to experience a love that. is redeeming simply by being aware that I can point to a way they will love one another in heaven. They need to know how to love here and now. I am not denying the theology of eschatological witness; I am saying that it is not a good enough reason to justify my be!ng a celibate. But perhaps the thing that disturbs me most about recent discussions on celibacy is the somewhat naive as-sumption that the celibate way of life "ex se" or. auto-matically will produce good results; that it will make us better lovers. Anyone who has worked closely with re-ligious in different communities 'knows that this simply is not an assumption based on fact. The fact is that we find it hard to be generous and warm lovers, in com-munity as well as out of community. And for me that is the very heart of the matter: being able to love others humanly, warmly. One of the most beautiful compliments that I.have re-ceived is a statement that has poignantly sad overtones: "You know you don't seem like a priest; you're so hu-man." What kind of celibacy is it that 'contributes to such an image? On the other hand I am equally disturbedby propo-nents of some undefined "third way," who speak so un-realistically of married love. Marriage can be just as de-humanizing as celibacy, as any counselor knows. Sexual expression :without sexual integration can be just as dev-astating for married persons as the lack of sexual expres, sion without-sexual integration can be for celibates. Neither marriage nor celibacy guarantees any(hing in the way of mature loving. However, both can be Ways of becoming free in order to grow as lovers. Both demand sexual integration as a prerequisite for personal fulfill-ment. And botl~ take a great deal of work and pain and perseverance and patience.' What then is there about the celibate .way of loving which can be for a religiousa liberating experience? First of all, I believe that celibacy, lovingly and. freely embraced, enabIes me to say to those I am committed to serve that I can love them in a way which is rich and deep and truly human, but in a way which is not demanding. And this is a magnificently freeingkind of awareness. It means that when I have accepted my sexuality and be-gun to integrate if, I can add another dimension to my VOLUME ~'St 2.969 "~, ; ISt 4, 4, Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18~ relationships. I can show people what it means to love someone just ~for himself. Not for his usefulness or phys-ical attractiveness. Not for his fine mind or remarkable talents, but just for himself. I can show him a way of loving and living which inte-grates se~xuality in a way that is different from married people. "It is a way which recognizes the splendor of sexuality, but which at the same time chooses to refrain from sexual .expression. I can show this person how to love both men and women warmly and deeply, with tenderness and even affection, without the overriding fear of automatic sexual involvement. And this, I believe, is precisely the kind of loving that modern man is hungry for. He is very confused by his sexuality, and it has become for him the alpha and omega of his existence. Deep within him he senses that ful-fillment iiavolves more than sex, but he finds it hard to translate this vague inner feeling into the language of everyday living because he does not find enough lovers who think much differently from the way he does. Modern man can learn a great deal from a religious who appreciates his sexuality enough to give it just enough importance in his life, but no more than that. How much it can mean for the confused modern to experi-ence a love which accepts him not for anything he has, but only for what he is. This alone is enough to be redemptive for many men and women. It seems as if there is in the heart of man a yearning for the model lover who is strong enough in serf-mastery to be free to be a kind of savior for others. In the folklore of most nations and tribes there are redemptive figures who, most often, were celibates during the time of their inessianic mission. We have only to recall the mythical warriors of the Far East and of-Indian culture, the many versioned prince myths of the early Middle Ages, the knights of King Arthur, and even in our own coun-try, the man of the West, the hero of the desert and prairie. Let us think of this last figure [or a moment. In story and song he has been pictured as a man of great physi-cal and moral strength. But primarily he is a man on a redemptive mission, living only for others. He rides into a town, bringing his honesty and integrity. He is manly; but also gentle with women. He is compassion-ate toward the poor and helpless. He stamps out evil and plants the seeds of goodness and truth. He brings sal~cation to a village. And when his redemptive mission is accomplished, this celibate lover accepts the love that people can give him in return for his, but he never de-mands it. Then, 'his work finished, he rides of[ alone to anbther ~¢illage and other people who need his kind of loving in order to be redeemed, to be liberated. In a similar way the modern religious celibate ac-complishes his redemptive mission. What he really gives to others is a portion of his own gift of freedom. He too will have to "ride" alone, but only in the sense of not having a single exclusive love relationship. For as he grows in his own mature sense of .freedom he ,will 'be enriched by many deep and beautiful love relationships. And this too becomes a gift to be shared with others, the gift of knowing how to put love and sexuality into a splendid and yet practical perspective. The task of integrating these two elements is always a difficult one. But one insight is very important. A sister, during a weekend workshop with .married couples, ex-pressed it well. She said: "You know, before this Week-end I had planned to leave my religious community. But now, I'm not so sure. You see, I thought my problems were the problems of a celibate religious, and I dis-covered that they are the problems of a woman. I found married women with the same basic problems, and they are making better adjustments to. them than I have been doing." This is so very true. Most of our problems are ,not the result of our celibacy but of our humanness. Neither marriage nor sexual intercourse will resolve our ten-sions. These will be resolved when we learn how to be-come truly human and loving. Then it will be possible for the celibate way of life to be rewarding for us and redeeming for others. It is then that we can demonstrate to others a love that is most beautiful because it is least demanding. Celibacy will not automatically make us great lovers, but a lover who understands and values his celibacy can be a model lover for others, a lover who is free enough to be able to free others. Certainly it is this kind of loving that is needed so desperately today by modern man who no longer feels lovable or loved. It may well be that only when he .ex. periences such undemanding love will he be ~onvinced of the genuine value of Christ's love. It may be that he will be able to believe in the celibate lover of Calvary only after he has come to believe in other celibates who can surrender, as He did, one of the most priceless gifts that God has given them. Perhaps .then, when he sees us free enough to surrender our sexuality for his sake, he may come to believe that he really is worth sav-ing and that God does care about him after all. It is a knowledge that many men still seek when they come ih contact with celibate lovers. These, then, are some of my reflections on the vows as ways of becoming free. I would like to understand the vows as ways of enabling us to be free enough to make it possible for others to believe in themselves. I would.like ÷ ÷ ÷ The Counsels,~ . VOLUME' 28~' 1969" '° :. ,183 + to think that we can be free from the obsessive need to accumulate things, free to surrender ourselves to others, free to love deeply and warmly. And that is why I feel that we must seek new insights concerning the vows. A young high school student, talking, about religious life and the vows, was asked what kind of religious com-munity he would have if he were to start one tomorrow, The young man said: "Well; I don't think I would make them take any vows." But then he paused and reflected on that, and he added a sentence that sums up the whole meaning of the vows and the religious life. He said: "Unless it would be possible to take a vow., to love." If that were truly the spirit behind our vows, they would be, for us, ways of becoming free. Finally, it is well to remember that the way of the vows is the way of Christ Himself. It is the way of a man with a mission to set men free. And the men of Christ's time were not so very different from the men of our day: angry, restless, rebellious, indifferent, frightened, and insecure, yet searching for a Christ-person who would be their liberator. Christ walked into their midst, heard their cry, and showed them a way of life that was for them a way of freedom. He showed them how to be free~ from the de-humanizing demands of the law and tradition, free from the imprisoning fear of what people might say, free from the overconcern about food and power and sex. Christ showed them a way of poverty and obedience and celibate love. Today we, as .religious, stand in the place of Christ to continue His redemptive mission, to be His witnesses. If we can find better ways to be what we say we are, then we too can arise in the assembly and announce to the world that we also have been sent to "bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound." And hopefully, people will hear us not because of what we say, but because of what we are: witnesses. Perhaps the following lines spell that out for us in clearer language: A witness is A man who stands out Because he is not afraid to stand up A man who outreaches others Because he reaches out to other.s Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 184 A man who lifts others up Because he bends down to their weakness A man whose heart has grown great Because he has learned to become small A witness is all this and more He is a man who walks across the wastelands Of human lives And uncovers hidden springs A man who opens windows everywhere To the sunlight and springtime fragrance Of the risen Christ And passing through the doors of seILfilled hearts He lights and leaves behind An everlasting flame Ultimately a witness is a man who does all these things Because He is not afraid To love. The CoUnsels VOLUME 28, 1969 I85 CARL J. PETER Culture and the Vocation Crisis Carl J. Peter teaches theology and lives at Curley Hall, Box 49; Cath-olic University of America in Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A change has occurred in the way young men and women view the prospect of becoming a priest, lay brother, or nun. At the very least they manifest less en-thusiasm or inclination along these lines. One may ask when this began or indeed inquire whether it has not just begun. Few, I think, will challenge the proposition itself. This change of attitude is very definitely evidenced by those who have matriculated in the Catholic school sys-tem. One encounters it in the Mary and Johnny of whom but a few years back while they were still on the primary level in parochial schools, we asked why they could not read. All of this is true and will be conceded by those who regard the situation as healthy no less than by those who regard it as disastrous. Religious Convictions and the Young The change in question has causes that are closely connected with religious conviction or its lack. There is an obvious hesitancy on the part of youth, an unwilling-ness or an unreadiness to embrace as a state of life the ministry of the gospel in its traditional form. But it is a great oversimplification, I feel, to assign as a total ex-planation a weakening or loss of faith. In some cases, + precisely the opposite is true. + At least many of the young people involved are any- + thing other than lacking in generosity. Interest in im-proving the lot of tbeir fellow man characterizes their mental and emotional outlook. Here is where the diffi-culty lies. In ever increasing numbers they fail to see this humanitarian interest connected with the life of the priesthood, sisterhood, and brotherhood. One may contend that this is because of the present conditions in which these callings are lived and exercised, because, for example, so much of a priest's time and 18fi energy is spent in activities that have no apparent con- nection with the betterment of mankind or at least one that is very minimal. Devoting each Monday to counting the collection; running off the Sunday bulletin on the rectory or parish duplicator; keeping the books for the school hot lunch program--the instances could be multi-plied. Now it is surely a mistake to associate a priest's work exclusively with such activities. But to ask young people to ignore this aspect is expecting a bit too much. A large part of the problem with regard to vocations is that prospective candidates see too much activity on the part of the cleric or religious" too little connected with making mankind's future better than its past. Liturgy and a Life Choice But this is not all. Even in cultic functions associated with the administration of the sacraments, there is real difficulty. Whether humanity is genuinely better off be-cause of all this divine worship is a question posed over and over again. Here it is not a matter of poorly or sel-dom exercised functions of the priest but rather the im-portance pure and simple of such fimctions in the world at all. Many adults recognize this and conclude that the vocation crisis connected with such questioning is really a crisis of faith. My contention, however, is that at least some of these difficulties and doubts in the religious realm are caused by a cultural change that affects the entire world of man in all its facets. The crisis of vocations is connected often enough with a corresponding crisis of faith. This is not so much because many have simply ceased to believe but rather because the atmosphere in which they have grown up and live demands a choice between conflict-ing values, religious ones included. As a result, young people find it both harder to reject the latter outright and yet more difficult as well to embrace them fully. The reason is that our day is one of cultural transformation with all that this involves. If this is anything other than self-evident, it is nevertheless important. The Meaning of Cultural Change To make the statement that culture has a great deal to do with the unrest experienced by youth and indeed believers in general is hardly a novelty today. It is intro-duced into the present context with the hope that it will be more than a mere repetition. To achieve this will re-quire making an effort to clarify what is meant by cul-tural change. Only then will others be able to judge whether this is in fact what is taking place with profound religious consequences. Such explanation is precisely what is lacking in a number of other attempts to trace the believer's troubles to this same source. Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 18'/ Carl .I. Peter REVIE%' FOR RELIGIOUS Examples may be of help. Leslie Dewart has con-nected the present plight Of Christianity with a retention of Hellenism or Hellenistic culture.x There is nothing to be gained from adding one more name to the list of critics of The Future of Belief.2 It is, however, a far from easy task to determine what he means by Hellenism. And yet this is quite important for his contention. Something very similar is true of Bishop John Robin-son. 8 He contends that the present difficulties of Chris-tianity are in great part connected with the fact that fundamental truths are being rejected wholesale because they are presented in a "supranaturalistic" mode of thought: The latter is surely a cultural phenomenon, but one that is extremely vague. It seems to involve a world picture with God outside the physical and psychic uni-verse but intervening now and again. To retain such a world picture, he writes, is incompatible with being a truly modern man. Meaningful truths fall under the weight of their utterly unacceptable trappings that bear witness to a dead culture. But here precisely is his problem. God, for Robinson, is not intended to be the product of a culture. Yet if one cannot tell what you mean by the latter, you do run the risk of having others hard pressed to determine whether you really stand for a God who endures despite a cultural change. At this point some are probably wondering whether it is not precisely a crisis o[ faith that must be dealt with. Perhaps it is. But to no small degree it is first of all a cultural crisis leaving its marks on all of us. Bishop Robinson may not have been successful in explaining what he means by a change of culture. He has never-theless described well the period in which we are living. It is the age of the overlap, the period in which some-thing very new is still in the process of emerging. Ours is a period of tension or dialectic. Hopefully a beneficial synthesis will be the outcome. One thing is sure; neither of the two extremes in the present picture culturally is likely to remain as is. Both are going to be modified and remarkably so. But it is the present state that must be analyzed, again with the observation that understanding what is happening is a first step toward dealing reason-ably and effectively with the situation. Good practice depends on an accurate assessment of what is involved. Dewart and Robinson call attention to the pangs in-volved in the change through which we are living. Both are agreed on this. An old culture is in the process 1 Leslie Dewart, The Future of Belie[ (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966). '-' See the remarks of Jaroslav Pelikan and Bernard J. F. Lonergan in Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), pp. 352-6 and 336-51 respec-tively. s John A. T. Robinson, Honest to God (London: SCM, 1963). of dying. It does not offer a form that religious belief will find viable in the future.4 In my opinion they are correct; the. cultural state we are now in cannot last. Indeed it takes no prophet to see that it will not. An-other thing is equally sure. Things will not revert to the way they were before all this began, whenever that was. The present situation makes that abundantly clear. Culture and Values Our age is.witnessing a remarkable conflict of values, and they are not directly religious in nature. At least they can be and are embraced by those who avowedly profess or practice no religion at all as well as by various types of believers in a Supreme Being. Now if this is true, it is also a prerequisite for understanding the cultural crisis of the present. For what 3[ mean by culture involves at0 the very least values and indeed a'more or less connected set of values. My contention is that we are living in a period of.history where there is a particularly fierce struggle between two opposing sets of purely human values. If some sort of synthesis is the most likely and desirable outcome, still, living in the overlap can be confusing. Two sets of values compete; each has something ~o be said for it, something to commend it. For many this is stimulating, but for no small number, ever increasing knowledge, acquaintance, and experience preclude, decisions on a clear course of action. In fact at times the result is paralysis or choices no sooner made than regretted, commitments given and then retracted. But if a convict of values can lead to these practical consequences, what sort of values are in question? The Good and Its Modes Getting things done or a sense of practical "know-how" has from the earliest days been a characteristic of our country. Indeed, it was very quickly identified ~with Yankees and their ingenuity. To put this another way, achievemerit and performance are values long esteemed by our society. And yet as ea'rly as the War between the States they were sought after in two radically opposed ¯ ways. Preservation of a heritage was the performance one section of the nation desired; improvement, refine. ment, elimination of defects and evils inspired the other. Concretely the value of performance, know-how, or achievement was realized in two conflicting ways. Given the question of freedom and human dign.ity, it is dear ~For a case along the same line but developed with heavy dependence on American Pragmatism as a philosophical basis, see Eugene Fontinell, "Religious Trtith in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 16 (1967), pp. 283-315. 4- 4- 4- ¥ocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ,196~ Carl ~ J.~ Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 190 that a moral issue was at stake. But there were other as-pects as well; for instance, strict or loose construction of the Constitution. Both forms of interpretation were religiously' neutral if not secular. Both likewise had ref-erence to the value of performance. But the way the lat-ter was realized in North and South led to tension, strife, and conflict. The situation afterwards was never the same again. There is something in this history that repeats itself. Clinging to tradition and the progress achieved in the past claims the allegiance of certain minds and hearts. It is likely true that this will always be the case. Still others are no less moved by the desire to strike out and move ahead in man's endless effort to better his~lot on this planet. Education offers another example. The value of a teacher's performance is judged in terms of pedagogical goals. Some maintain the educator aims at handing on truth, with the supposition that humanity has already achieved it in a way that can be improved but never fundamentally surpassed. By instinct and. reasoned con-viction others look for the teacher or professor to en-gage together with the student in a quest for truth. The assumption is that there is always more worth looking for and in comparison with which the knowledge at-tained is partial and incomplete. Now neither of these attitudes toward pedagogical goals is directly religious. Neither is exclusively demanded by Catholic faith. But the adoption of either as a value has religious implica-tions. An illustration may be of assistance. A question arises that is new and demands some sort of response or answer. Before doing anything else, the man or woman influenced by the value of preserving truth will attempt to solve the present case by recourse to precedents. Only too often this involves making the present in its unique-ness conform, whether it really does or not, with norms that were established earlier but without the slightest intention of binding all future generations. The value of preserving truth and past achievements translates itself religiously into that of fidelity. If the past has no claim to direct our own religious history, then there was no uniqueness in the event we call the Incarnation. Then God has not involved Himself irrevocably and finally in the history of man long before 'our day. When one re-gards0 education as a process of passing on certain truths, he is predisposed to be concerned religiously with the fidelity of God and man. A cultural value, namely pi:eserving the accomplishments of the past, can and does have profound religious consequences in thought and action. But education can also be conceived of as performance involving an unending quest [or truth. In this case, when one makes the transposition to a religious level, the goal is a search for the God who even after revelation in Jesus is still a mystery and to know whom is really to be yet groping even when one gropes with the aid of infallible direction. St. Paul offers a good example of this. In his Epistle to the Romans he spends three chapters (9-11) studying the will of God as concretely realized in the plan of salvation for Gentile and Jew. Interpreting the hist6ry of his own day as God's saving providence, he obviously presupposes that man can .know the divine will. And yet he concludes with a hymn proclaiming "that no one realiy knows the mind of the Lord. All subsequent Christian theology has been an at-tempt to grapple with the great mystery that God remains even after He reveals Himself to man. His ways are mysterious and yet sure, free and yet faithful. To em-phasize one over the Other leads to a lopsided theology. But why would one be inclined to do this? The reason is clear enough. There is a tendency to do so, one deriving from culture today especially. That culture is complex; it evokes diverse responses, some calculated to preserve the truth and goodness that have already been achieved and others aimed at improving both in the future. The result is cultural tension with theological consequences of the first order. When a question arises on a religious or doctrinal level, for those inclined to revere the past it is not a matter of being faithful pure and simple. There is a cultural fac-tor inclining them to their position. Others are more ready to strike out [or the new and unknown. Here it is the mystery of God and His dealings with man that will enthrall them. What has been said of Him in the past, even in infallible "utterances, is true enough but insuffi-cient. Their great law is: "Thou shalt not have strange Gods before me." They do not wish to worship idols rather than the true God; and it is no less idolatrous to worship one's image of God than it is to adore wood, or stone, or precious metals. Here again, however, the inclination is not purely religious; it is cultural. These are the men and women who in any event are more moved by a goal that is worthwhile and possible than by achievements that are already a fact but with clear defects. ,4pplication to Present Conditions It is in the realm of attitudes that one must look for evidence of culture or values held in esteem or disrepute. Our culture involves an ambivalence of attitudes with regard to the present in its relation to the future. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28° 1969 .!. ÷ Carl I. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Contemporary forms are generally considered inade-quate in the long run to meet humanity's needs of the near future. If one insists that this is not true in the religious sphere, youth is expected to assert that m6- rality and faith are somehow not part of the changing world. This is only too evidently false. It is also discourag-ing. If true, it would surely follow that from neither could man hope for much improvement. When the past is loved too much and present values, cherished too intensely, the inevitable result is that fewer and fewer young people will spend their lives ina performance directed to preserving it. This attitude has been wide-spread and is showing its effects. The cultural cry of more and more of the young is "On to the Future" by radical change of the present. Confronted with the evils man has injected into his world, they find an attractiveness in this value. That it conflicts with the former is obvious. That the result is confusion, tension, unease, unwillingness or inability to commit oneself fully to one or the other is not sur-prising. Neither value is directly religious. Each has religious implications and does sometimes presuppose a lessening or even loss of religious commitment. But to concentrate on this would be to try to cure a symptom. Our whole society knows it must change and change radically. And yet unless we learn from the past, from its successes as well as its failures, we shall grope with-out any guidelines or the slightest assurance that what we learn today will help tomorrow and not hinder, Man's leap forward came.from a spirit of adventure and a lack of willingness to be content with the status quo. This is true of man whether he professed a religion or not. Youth today knows it. They look for a willingness to take this risk in religion and its leaders. But they also realize that man's advance has been accompanied by a multiplication of evils in the form of wars, famine, and untold human suffering. It was paid for in the form of untold labor and often shortened life spans "of pioneers. Today many of them are asking whether progress at such a price and with such attendant evils is worth it after all. It is a question of values and attitudes. Not a few seem to choose neither content-ment with the past nor striving to improve the future, at least not by joining existing organizations to achieve this. In the sense of the two alternatives, they seem to be opting out as close to altogether as is possible. Among their eiders, those who cling to the past do so not wholly because of faith, and those who strive to ob-tain the improvement of the future surely are not so motivated solely because of basic religious conviction or its lack. It is in both cases a cultural response elicited by the world in which they live. To be cautious is a value; to be adventuresome no less so. Neither in itself is reli-gious. Those inclined to esteem the former expect it most of all in religion; those who prefer the latter look for it above all in the area of faith and faith-inspired life. There is a crisis all right, but one stemming fi:om a com-plex culture or set of opposing values, each of which has something to be said for it. How easy it would all be if it were otherwise. It would be a mistake to overlook this when considering the situation of young men and women choosing or living out a religious vocation. Maximum E~ciency versus Involvement There is another pair of values related to achievement. Is the latter the work of one or many? Some are loners and find it hard to be any other way. But today it is extremely difficult to stand alone in achievement. The individual source of inspiration, one overseer or director iqith the power to make decisions--this leads at times to unquestionably greater efficiency and permits the de-termination of responsible agents in various fields. For some this is still a most desirable good. Society needs the great man as leader; the Church, the truly independent bishop and pope. But for others worthwhile goals are achieved only in the close cooperation of many laboring in a basically similar frame of mind despite difficulties. This implies the initiative not only of the leader but of many cooperating and participating as fully as possible in the endeavor. Neither attitude is basically religious. This is again witnessed in the pedagogical order. Why do so many professors today have such trouble with classes when they employ the lecture system? The latter is surely not something religious or irreligious. Nor is it that professors lecture without the ability of their predecessors. And yet in ever increasing numbers, courses based solely on this method are being phased out be-cause they are not being heard or listened to. The teacher who simply lectures today has to be a lot better than one who did the same fifty years ago just to accomplish as much. The reason is simple. To such an approach there is opposition that is neither religious nor irreligious but rather cultural. It arises from the conviction that truth and other values are to be sought not solely or primarily through the energy of one man directing the receptivity of others but through the combined efforts of many. The planning of seminary curricula is taking note of this. So must the charting of course for a parish or diocese if they are to achieve their respective goals. To think that papal primacy, episcopal collegiality, or lay initiative will not be affected by this cultural factor is disastrous, especially in dealing with prospective vocations. If this ÷ ÷ ÷ Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ].9~9 Cad ]. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]94 is obviously hard for some to accept, it is important nonetheless. Achievements of the Paso Some men and women tend to concentrate on the good that has already been attained and are pleased with past efforts as well as optimistic about the state of the union, whatever union may be involved. Others view past achievements with guarded reserve or more often criti-cism, positive or negative. These are human attitudes not particularly connected with religion more than with politics or economics. But they do affect the way one re-gards formulations of Christian faith. Have the conciliar determinations helped or are they, though true, in their own way very limited? As regards present institutions, few adamantly deny they have accomplished some, indeed tremendous good. But what of the defects? They are pres-ent as well. Revelation does not direct attention to either exclusively. The way one evaluates other things will have a great deal of influence here. But that is clearly in the realm of rational attitudes more or less con-sciously adopted; namely, culture and not religion di-rectly as such. Analysis or Comprehensive View Is it the big picture or the details that are most im-portant? There is no divine law answering this. In terms of values, is it generality and simplicity in viewing a phenomenon as a whole or rather attention to its com-plexity that matters? Emphasis on the latter assures that whatever is said or decided today may well have to be modified tomorrow. Decisions taken may have to be reconsidered or retracted. Contrariwise one may aim at certain values that at least as goals do not change but are ever more closely approximated. The affective con-sequences of both approaches are clear enough. Com-mitments in the one frame of reference can hardly be irrevocable; in the other they can surely be so. On a practical religious level, are all decisions subject to re-call at will, for example, to the existence of a God, an after-life, the imperative of working to make life better [or others? Or are they simply the best one can give here and now? It is clear that conflicting cultural values have in this instance created tension in human life, not least of all in its religious sphere. Certainty and Conjecture To continue, is certainty a value above others, or is statistical probability all man can ~chieve in most in-stances? But certainty is popularly connected with hope.-- one does not hope unless convinced there is a good chance o~ getting or doing or being what is hoped for. And yet probability is likewise connected with hope; one does not hope for what is already a sure thing, somethingpr~deter-mined and open in no way to chance. To what does one aspire, the certain or the probable?. The Marxist experiences this. Should he hope for the classless society or not? If he does not because he feels that it is certain to come about, lethargy.will likely result. But if its appearance is not inevitable, his efforts alter all may be futile, all of which need not but may lead to despair. As to the Christian, must he hope that the divine kingdom come? If its advent cannot be frus-trated, what need to hope; if otherwise,, why hope when alter all sheer chance may reign supreme?. Antithetical Ideals I have tried to indicate certain human values in two connected sets. They deal with the practical, .the order o~ doing and achievement. Preservation of the past through the work of the leader who sees and inspires others to grasp the whole picture wi.th optimism c6upled with caution and deliberate pace regarding change--this is one set. And yet there is another in competition: the improvement o~ the future through the.cooperation o[ many in thought, action, and suffering, with attention to the manifold of details accompanied with criticism of past failures and a sense of urgency for future reme-dies. These interconnected values art both vying for man's acceptance at the present time. He has opted for neither. Confronted by them both, he is very often at a loss; now this and now that seems better. They affect the very depth of his being and yet are religious only in the sense of having to do with the meaning of life, a mean-ing he has to choose freely. Still his relations with or-ganized religion cannot but be affected by this tension, unrest, and hesitancy. Because religion is obviously con-nected with these values though by no means identical with them, he is probably as interested as at any time in his history with religion as an academic discipline but as disinclined as never before to see any religious organi-zation as offering a permanent way of life for himself. This has affected the attitude o~ many toward religious vocations in particular. In my opinion it justifies the proposition that the so-called vocation crisis is only indirectly a crisis of faith and directly one of culture. Religious Ministry in the Overlap More is called for today than detached analysis in this area. This is especially true in the case of those who are convinced that an increase in the number of religious vocations is o~ great importance for the Church and the 4- .4- 4- Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 195 rest of humanity. As a result it may not be out of place to offer a number of suggestions. They will deal with atti-tudes that can be fostered with the aim of encouraging priestly and religious vocations during the period of the cultural overlap. First of all, in both of the competing sets of values, practical certainty is present and operative. The certainty of conviction makes men cling to the past; it drives others to strive for the future. This is certainty at least strong enough to be the guiding rationale and emo-tional factor for living a whole li~e. Too much certainty with regard to the past was an error. A great price has been paid for it. Today, youth is actually afraid of being certain and yet often paralyzed because uncertain. The man who strives for change is doing so only because of a practical conviction that striving is important, worth-while, possible, and not futile. In this sense, certainty is no more missing in him than in' his counterpart. If this impression can be conveyed to youth, the certainty of basic truths of faith will be less repellent. Secondly, another value found in both sets is persever-ance. It is because of a deep-rooted conviction that does not change that the men of science change hypotheses. A religious conviction once thought over and adopted need not shut a man off Lrom the way other men adopt in living. It should not make him closed. Indeed he can be open precisely because he has made a fundamental decision. No one is more closed than he who has made no decision at all regarding the meaning of life. Fre-quently such a man's desire to be open precludes his doing anything of lasting significance. To be con-temporary is not to be a Hamlet. To be ever ready to learn more regarding life's meaning is not to be ready to change one's mind because of simple discouragement or the realization that difficulties will in all likelihood never be completely removed. The applicability of this lesson to the realm of priestly and religious vocations is obvious. It will not, however, be grasped unless one re-calls that these are matters not merely of faith and revela-tion but also of culture. Carl 1. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i JOSEPH E. MULLIGAN, s.J. The Religious Dimension of Human Love The current experimentation with various styles of religiou~ dress is certainly a welcome development in the post-conciliar Church. It is becoming clear to Cath-olics and non-Catholics alike that today's sister is very much a woman of the twentieth century, a woman con-secrated to God and united with Christ and at the very same time intensely concerned about the joys and problems, successes and failures of the present world. She is sensitive to the needs of modern men and women, open to new trends in human thought'(such as personal-ism and Christian existentialism)~ efficient in her use of modern means of serving humanity, and orientated to the near and distant future in her apostoli.c thinking. Au courant styles of religious dress do not insure that all this will be true of every sister who dons the new garb, but at the very least it can be said that the new fashions do not militate against the entirely proper "new image" now being created by today's sisters both young and old. Updated religious habits may even foster an interior aggiornamento where it is lacking or lagging; and where the Spirit has already begun to "renew the face of the earth" so that the love enkindled by Him can shine forth for all to see, the sister will welcome the external change as a true sign of the interior renewal which is under way. While the new fashions serve this purpose of bringing today's sister visibly into the twentieth century, they also serve to bring out the distinctly feminine quality of the Christian charity which fills her heart and inspires her life of service. This important point is receiving its due attention by psychologists, counselors, and theologians; here we need only mention the fact that the changes in the dress o[ religious women are closely associated with the emergence, in their own consciousness and in that of all the world, of their God-given and God-beloved ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Mulligan, &J., is a member of Bellarmine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 6O542. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Mulligan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 femininity. How important it is that the feminine, ma-ternal dimension of the love of God, whom we always address as Father and whom we almost always think of in masculine terms, be incarnated and effectively com-municated to the human family. In this connection we readily recognize (it is not a question of "admitting," as if grudgingly) the truth of a point suggested by a famous psychologist: that in Christian piety a tender devotion to Mary fulfills a profound need of the human heart and soul, namely, to relate to a heavenly Mother. It is true, of course, that God the Father and Jesus Christ the Son manifest many of the qualities ordinarily associated with human mother-hood: tenderness, mercy, compassion, and above all, love which is given profusely without demanding a com-mensurate response. But it is Mary who, in the religious consciousness of the faithful, is the Mother par excellence, showering upon her children her maternal love and re-ceiving from them, often though not always, their love and trust in return. The religious woman has a position in the divine economy of salvation analogous to that of Mary. In the eminently feminine charity shown by the religious teacher, nurse, home missionary, and others, the human family can see and feel the maternal qualities of the boundless love of God for them. The sister can bring this love directly into the classroom, hospital, or home--and in this the sister can be more effective than Mary in com-municating the love of God to men. For Mary is present to her children only in times of prayer, and the experi-ence of her love requires faith; the sister can be present to the human family in all situations of life and in very concrete ways which are perfectly visible to "natural" eyes. Adaptations in dress, then, are worthwhile and valu-able in at least these two important respects: in placing sisters visibly in the midst of the twentieth century and in accentuating the distinctly feminine characteristics of their love and service to mankind. In most instances the adaptation of which we are speaking has taken the form of a reduction or lightening of the habit to the extent that some sisters have only a 'veil of some sort (or even less) as the external symbol of 'their consecration to God and their special union with Christ. This trend is entirely praiseworthy, as we have stated above. How-ever, the question soon arises about the necessity of re-taining any distinctive signs. Should. the nursing sister simply wear the same uni-form as that of her colleagues in the profession? Should the teaching sister wear a variety of styles readily oh, tainable at the downtown department store? Should the i home missionary don a smart and comfortable business woman's suit? In the opinion of this male observer, the answer is a qualified "no." This is undoubtedly the opin-ion of the vast majority of sisters: there is deep value in the external symbols of one's religious profession. Pre-cisely what forms these symbols should take in order that they be appropriate for our modern age'is a matter which will have to be handled largely through experi-mentation; developments to date have been in the right direction, but certainly not definitive (perhaps we should expect and accept constant adaptation in this matter, as in the liturgy). Though all agree on the necessity of retaining symbols, be they ever so "modernized," it may prove worthwhile to review one of the most substantial reasons for our insistence upon retaining externals of some sort. To this writer, one of the most cogent "arguments" for the existence and activity of God is the astounding love which breaks out (who can say how often?) in this world of ours. This love can be "astounding" even if it be only a kind word at the right time, a friendly "hello" offered in passing, or a thoughtful gesture only slightly out of the ordinary. The more dramatic or "heroic" act of love--such as the total personal commitment of marriage or of the religious life--is all the more revela-tory of the power of God operative in the hearts of men. Experience teaches us that there is something wonder-ful in a person who has risen above the childish and petty egocentrism which in various forms infects hu-manity. And in divine revelation we have a clear state-ment of the truth to which experience opens us: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Though this writer finds this train of thought most interesting and helpful, many in our modern world find it something less than immediately exciting. The con-nection between human love at its best and the power of God very often goes unnoticed. Deep, strong love (in many cases of a calibre worthy of imitation by many a nominal Christian) abounds in the heart and soul of a great number of men who consider themselves "atheists" or "agnostics" or "secular humanists" but who probably qualify as "anonymous Christians." We have good reasons as well as strong inclinations to consider these noble hu-man persons as brothers of Christ and sons of God, heirs of the same eternal life which we Christians hope to at-tain (see Mt 95:31--45). The modern man who is truly Christlike in his charity is surely a brother of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is indeed the Spirit of Love. Such a person need only be brought to an explicit awareness of his true position before God. Whether this Human Love VOLUME 28, 1969 199 J. E. Mulligan, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O0 exp1icitation is absolutely necessary for salvation, is a theological question which we cannot take up here; that it is.desirable and beneficial for the person, that it is the will of God, and that it is the proper task of the mission-ary Church cannot be doubted. How then is the connection between great human love and the power of God to be drawn clearly in the minds of men? How will men of good will come to real-ize their true religious identity? Surely this wonderful moment of recognition can follow immediately upon a strong experience of being loved with a love surpassing the powers of our wounded human nature. Who can know the unsearchable ways of God, the ways in which He can make His presence known in the hearts of men? What we can know, however, is that God has estab-lished in His Church certain "ordinary" ways by which men should be able to see the connection of which we are speaking, that is, the religious context of all genuine human love. The liturgy, for instance, consists basically of ritual acts of human love, no less authentic for being ritual, set in an abundantly sacred context; the religious life as a visible institution is meant also to be a sign Of the intimate link between love and Love. The woman who loves her neighbor with a striking love and who clearly derives the sustenance for this extraordinary love from her union with God stands as a powerful sign of the connection with which we are concerned. The religious proclaims to the world that love, and especially continuing growth in love, depends upon our cooperation with the Spirit of Love whom Jesus Christ pours forth upon humanity, thereby accom-plishing the work of redemption. If this proclamation is to be effective, however, two elements must be safe-guarded and nurtured: the fraternal love must be sincere and genuine, or else it will strike no one and will fail to touch off the wonder which points to God; secondly, the person showing this genuine love must also show some clear sign of her relationship with God, or else her love will be viewed as nothing more than the highest flowering o[ the human spirit. A true combination of both these elements can be nothing short of overwhelming. The student will be deeply struck one day, perhaps far in the future, by the inestimable service given him by the sister in the seventh grade; and he will ask him-self whether her union with God, somehow manifest, might have had anything to do with her capacity to love so generously and so constantly. The patient in the hospital will find kindness and competent care in the person of the nursing sister at a time when he is most in need of these precious gifts; he will undoubtedly find himself wondering whether her slightly distinctive uni- form may signify a Power greater than herself gently assisting her human heart. The family in Appalachia or in one of our big city ghettoes, olSpressed and exploited by an unconcerned affluent society, will be touched by the "no strings attached" help given by the visiting sister; the family will see that this remarkable woman is in love with both God and them at the same time, as if the one love is identical with the other. This, then, is one reason (to this writer the most im-portant and most meaningful) for retaining some form of distinctive religious dress. By all means, let sisters continue to experiment with new styles in an attempt to find more appropriate twentieth century symbols of religious profession. Also, let sisters continue to try on new and appropriate fashions which will not bushel-basket that femininity which is absolutely essential for incarnating the love of God in all its breadth and beauty. However, for the reason which we have suggested in the latter part of this article and for other reasons which may be equally cogent, let us not throw out the baby (appropriate and necessary symbolism) with the bath (outmoded and "sexuality neutralizing" costumes). The religious must be in tune with the times, di.stinctly masculine or feminine, a living proof of the connection between true human love and the Spirit of Love. 4, VOLUME.28, 1969 201 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Biblical Concept of Virginal Love Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at Russell College; 2300 Adeline Drive; Burlingame, Cali-fornia 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 Half an eye trained on recent ,religious thin.king in-forms one that a great deal of literature has appeared in the last decade on the psychology of loving in the Chris: tian context. For the most part this has been a praise-worthy effort to broaden the place and sharpen the orientation of human love within the ecclesial commu-nity; yet one still frequently finds considerable diver-gence of view among, religious men and women as to how the generally agreed upon norms are to be prac-ticed in concrete situations. We wish in this essay not simply to tread over worn terrain but to suggest some specifics, specifics stemming from Scripture and virgin-ity. We primarily envision religious women, although with some modifications what we say concerns men as well. Philosophical Roots Even though our main intent is Biblical and practical, we may preface our discussion with several philosophical considerations. In the long run practical solutions to knotty problems are no better than their (often merely assumed and unexpressed) theoretical substructure. At the same time speculation must always be in touch with experience, with concrete, here and now reality. Because she is a person, a human person, a feminine human person, the sister must love warmly. Her love must appear, be visible. Why? Because virginal love is incarnated, not angelic. It is human and a witness to humans. For a reason we shall point out later this is to say that it is affectionate. But because we are at the moment dealing with philosophy, not theology, we may leave the witness aside. Virginal love is incarnated and therefore affectionate because it is human love--steeped in supernatural moti-vation, of course, but still human. In fact, it cannot be anything else but' human. No being can act otherwise than as it is. We never expect a duck to perform as a camel. A woman can love only as a woman, a human being ot the feminine sex. Now human nature is in-carnated spirit, a dual reality, material-spiritual. Man is not monistic. Merleau-Ponty's negation ot a fundamental dualism in man is an oversimplification of human exist-ence. Man is not merely a body-subject, an I-body. The profound dualism in his sense-intellect knowing, to cite one example, is an irreducible pluralism that renders a human monism an inadequate explanation of available evidence. Human love, therefore, must also be dual,, it it is to be tully human and not something else. Like its source, the person, man's love must be rooted in spirit but shown through matter, conceived in soul but en-fleshed in body. Affectionate love is simply love incar-nated. It is a love that appears. One need not syllogize to its existence. As a daughter of Eve the religious woman does not loveproperly and fully until she loves affectionately. She is no exception to the roots of reality, no metaphysical oddity. She loves as she is. There is yet another reason why the virgin's love for 1hen is warm, composite, incarnated. It is a reason rooted in the deepest center of her being. She is good, a person good, and goodness tends to pour itself out. She is a social good, so she must pour herself out into others and receive these others back into herself. A woman (and a man, too, but not quite so pronouncedly) is never satis-fied until she loves. She cannot be satisfied unless she loves, for until she loves incarnatedly she is violating a law of being: goodness goes out; person goodness loves persons and shows it. This ontological factor works in the opposite direction as well. Because she is good and beautiful, the sister re-quires that her goodness and beauty be acknowledged, recognized in a way she can see and experience. To say this psychologically, she needs a strong self image, a self image she can derive only from others, from their appreciation and shown love. This is to say once again that deeply rooted in her human make-up is a need to receive affection. What we are implying, then, is that the religious woman's consecration does not exempt her from the laws of human nature or from the metaphysical structure ot the real. Scriptural Roots But still more must be said. There are supernatural reasons as well as natural ones tot saying that religious are to love warmly. Christian love is human love. It must therefore be affectionate. Shakespeare was pointing in the right direction when he observed that "they do Yirginal Love VOLUME ~'8, 1969 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 not love that do not show their love." x Christ himself was affectionate. He embraced children for no other verifiable reason than to love warmly and to show it. He "looked with love" on the rich young man, which is nothing other than to gaze affectionately. He wept at Lazarus' tomb, a remarkable display of feeling in a man. He who could fearlessly castigate the Pharisees could also correct Martha tenderly by repeating her name twice as a preface to his admonition. The letters of Paul, Peter, and John are replete with expressions of endearment and concern. Where could these originally rough men have learned this Christian way of loving if not from Christ? The Master had already made it clear that a Christian ¯ can be detected in the world by his observable love. Men are to see how we love, be struck by it, and con-clude from this sight who we are.2 Affectionate love can be seen. Cold or neutral love may not be noticed even when it is proved by deed., witness the merely efficient nurse. In any event merely willed love does not draw men as the Christian is to draw them. If the reli-gious is a gospel woman, she is an affectionate woman. She may be nothing else. Practical Implications So much for basic principles. They are plain, hardly subject to hot dispute. Not so, however, with concrete situations, problems, objections. Even a casual acquaint-ance with convent life makes clear that the whole area of close love relationships has been, and still often enough remains, subject to misunderstanding, to excess, to de-fect. One underestimates the complexities and depths of human nature if he believes that in this matter ~pecifics are as easy to handle as generalities. Because we think we recognize the difficulties inherent in our subject, our intent here is modest. We wish to propose some real questions and to suggest, for whatever value they may have, some honest answers. - How does a consecrated woman show a warm love in a manner appropriate to her state? Our first reaction to this question is to note that ordinarily a woman is a better judge of feminine warmth than a man is. And if she happens to be at the same time a holy woman, she knows by a kind of instinct how to love rightly. Yet a man may presume to suggest a few guides. Obviously enough, marks of affection vary greatly with the situa-tion of the recipient. A sister rightly embraces a first-grade boy who has fallen down the staircase, but she is The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 1, Scene 2. Jn 13:M-5. likely to show her concern in another manner toward a twelfth-grader beset with a teenage problem. The New Testament offers many examples of what a holy, adult affection is like. There is the cordial, warm greeting,8 the holy kiss,4 the affectionate embrace,~ the loving gaze,n a warmth of manner in speech,r a kindly gentleness in the face of a brother's faults,s a tenderness and love in correcting others,9 a deep interest in the in-dividual and his concerns,1° an openness to all,ix a com-forting of those in trial and sorrowA~ Peter sums it all up in saying that our love is to be sincere and intense.~3 A prayerful study of these texts and many others like them will disclose to mogt of us that we have a long way to go before we love as Christians are supposed to love. Because the virgin is a model of evangelical life, she may not be anything but affectionate. The program of how this is to be done is plain enough in the Gosp.els and Epistles. She will find its implementation a lifetime task. She ma~ find it helpful to, work at this task in her par-ticular examen, taking as her specific guides one Scrip-tural theme or text at a time. Doing this she cannot help becoming a lovable woman. Is there not danger to chastity in this warm love? Yes, of course, there is danger, just as there is danger in the pursuance of any good, even the spiritual goods of the intellect. But one may not always solve "excess prob-lems" by removing the possibility of excess through a radical uprooting of the good. When the Master re-flected on the risk of worldliness in His apostles, He did not meet the problem by shutting off the possibility. Rather He explicity declared that they were to remain in the dangerous situation, in the world, but were to be kept free from being tainted by it.14 It is interesting, too, ~hat nowhere (as far as we can find) does the New Testa-ment indicate a concern about the dangers found in a holy affection. Perhaps the reason is that the genuine SRom 1:7; 16:3-16; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:21-3; Col 4:7-18. ~Lk 15:20; Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 16:20; 2 Cor 13:12; 1 Th 5:26; I Pt 4:14. ~ Mk 10:16; Acts 20:37-8. ~ Mk 10:21. ~Rom I:11; 1 Cor 4:17; 15:58; 16:24; 2 Cor 7:~,I~; 10:I; Phil 1:7-8; 4:1; 1 Th 2:7-8,20; ~:1-7; 1 Tm 1:2; 1 Jn 2:1,7,12,14,18,28; ~ Jn 1,5,11; Jude ~,20. s Eph 4:2,~2; 2 Tim 2:24-5; 1 Pt 3:8-9. ~ Lk 10:41; 1 Cor 4:14; 2 Cor 2:4-8; Gal 6:1; Col ~:12-~. xo 1 Cor 12:26; 2 Cor 12:14-5; Phil 2:17-8; 1 Th 2:11. ~x 2 Cor 6:11-3. ~2 Cor 1:3-4; 7:6-7; 1~:11; £ph 6:22; Col 2:1-2; 1 Th 5:11; 2 Tim 1:16; Phlm 20. xs I Pt 1:22. :~Jn 17:14-7: "They are not oI the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou take them out of the world, but that thou keep them ~rom evil." ¥irglnal Love VOLUME 28, 1969 205 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 man of God and the holy virgin know plainly enough-- because their honesty bares the deceitful motive--why really they are affectionate and how their love is ap-propriately shown. Warm affection is risky for the fool-ish virgin, the worldly virgin, but not for the wise and prayerful one. On the contrary, for the latter this kind of sisterly love protects and fosters her dedicated chastity: "Everyone should remember--superiors especially--that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members." ~g If a sister is a woman of deep contemplative prayer, we need have little fear that her warm love for others will pose any proximate danger to her purity or to theirs. If she is not a prayerful woman, the opposite may well be the case. May a sister [oster a close [riendship with a priest or layman? At the outset of this article we already im-plied our affirmative reaction to this question. The ex-ample of Christ's love for Martha and Mary and that of the saints for persons of the opposite sex (for example, Teresa and Gratian, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal) demand this affirmative response. And so does com-mon sense. Sexual love neither is co-terminous with geni-tal- sexual love nor requires it. The sexes are comple-mentary not only on the physical level but also on the emotional, intellectual, volitional, and supernatural lev-els. an The fact that the consecrated woman benefits from masculine influences (such as teaching, spiritual direc-tion) in her formation (and do not men profit £rom feminine influences in theirs?) suggests that she may grow as a religious woman through friendship with a man. Now all of this is being said with increasing frequency both in print and in private conference. But something else has also to be said. And it is rarely said. That this kind of close friendship be advisable demands conditions and qualifications. Not any apparently good male-female relationship may be said to correspond to that of Teresa and Gratian or Francis and Jane. We have already in-dicated what some of these qualifications are. Most of us would agree that a sister should show a sincere warmth toward all men and women, but we are not agreed as to what overdemonstrativeness may be. For our part we cannot share the view that embracing is a suitable sign of affection between religious persons of the opposite sexes. The current multiplication of tragedy that scan-dalizes the faithful and ruins consecrated lives plainly ~ Vatican II, Decree on Religious LiIe, n. 12. ~ See Chapter 3 of von Hildebrand's Man and Woman for a help-ful explanation of this complementarity. shows how naive this view really is. Some people learn only by personal disaster that they are like the rest of men. A propensity toward physical demonstrativeness suggests strongly that the friendship is not on the high-est supernatural level, that it is not thoroughly immersed in God, in a mutually deep prayer life. Unreasonably frequent or protracted conversations and deliberate ro-mantic daydreaming likewise cause one to wonder whether there is question of the love of the Holy Spirit. The virgin is concerned with the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit and that she may .pray without distraction. In our view that priest or sister ~s naive who feels that long and frequent visits, kissing and embracing are conductive to the love of the Chris-tian virgin. If this is what "the third way" means, there is no third way. Even aside from the obvious.question of chastity, one may wonder regarding this type of relation-ship how intently the religious can be concerned with the things of the Lord, how deeply she can be committed to her life of contemplation and apostolic action. From the positive point of view a sister may rest as-sured that her love is fully virginal if the thought of the other suggests to her mind the thought of God; if the relationship really helps her to a deeper prayer life, a perfect observance of her rule, an evangelical spirit of detachment, a more profound loyalty to her own vir-ginal vocation and to the members of her own commu-nity, a ~niversal warmth toward others; if their con-versation or correspondence is concerned mainly with God and His affairs. If these norms for virginal love are correct, one may speculate that this sort of friendship is not at all as common as may be supposed. Is affectionate love compatible with the detachment demanded by the New Testament? Twenty years ago many of us would have returned an unhesitatingly nega; tive answer to this question or we would have at least felt inclined to such an answer. Today we more easily understand that warm love and evangelical detachment are reconcilable, although not too many are able to bar. monize new psychology with old spirituality. The prob-lem here, of course, is not a clash between oldness and newness but between sound psychology and twisted spir-ituality. Both affectionate love and gospel austerity are as valid today as they ever were, for the New Testament plainly teaches both of them over and over again. The simplistic mind is uncomfortable with complex dualities and it seeks to resolve a paradox by denying one pole of it. Two decades ago it was common to deny that warmly shown love was proper in a religious, while today it is popular to say that detachment is passd. Yet the New Testament teaches both the .one and the ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal VOLUME 28~ 1969' " ÷ ÷ Thomas l~bay REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS 208 other. It is the same Christ who demands that we re-nounce all things (Lk 14:33) and who embraces children warmly (Mk 10:16). The same John teaches that we must die like grain buried in the ground (Jn 12:24-5) and yet deals with the recipient~ of his first letter with remark-able terms of endearment (1 Jn 2, passim). The first letter of Peter warns against "selfish passions" (1 Pt 2:11), encourages a joy in sufferings (4:12-3) and at the same time urges intense brotherly love shown with a "kiss of love" (1:22; 5:14). The same Paul who cautions against superfluities and himself has nothing (1 Tim 6:7-8; 2 Cor 6:10) also loves his Christians with the warmth and tenderness of a deeply affectionate father (passim). Nowhere in the new revelation do we read the least hint of a clash. Why? Simply because affectionate love is by no means the same as selfish love. On the contrary, it is often a crucifying love. Showing affection to an attractive person is a delight, to a dull or cold individual it is a thorn. Moreover--and this is important and not always under-stood-- we should not see a dichotomy between loving God wholly and our neighbor warmly. Even less should we suppose an opposition. Precisely because Christian love is both one and incarnated but with several objects (God, ourselves, angels, neighbor), it must be warmly shown. This is why St. Paul looked upon the Romans as "God's beloved" (1:7). Because they were God's dear ones, they necessarily became Paul's dear ones in a virile yet intimate sense. Unshown love is a partial self-contradiction. We find this same warm affection in the most austere and detached of God's saints, for they knew what affectionate love and genuine detachment really mean. They did not live by caricature. One need only read the correspondence of an Augustine, a John Chrys-ostom, a Teresa of Avila, a Francis de Sales to see what we mean, Even John of the Cross (andwho could be remotely tempted to conceive him as lacking in detach-ment?), a man short on words but long on deeds, is said to have walked 30 or 40 miles barefooted to visit his warmly loved nuns at Beas. What we are saying, of course, is by no means opposed to the traditional detach-ment doctrine of these same saints. There is a certain in-tellectual snobbery implied in the suggestion one hears today that the goodness and value of love between the sexes, even between religious, is quite a new discovery unknown to our elders in the faith. And there is no little theological inadequacy implied in thinking that this kind of love somehow rules out an integral evangel-ical asceticism. How does One become affectionate? This apparently naive question is really a worthwhile question, one that is susceptible of several interpretations: How does a sister acquire a warm manner toward unattractive personali-ties? How does one love affectionately who feels no warmth toward anyone? How does a person deepen a warm manner she already possesses to some extent, yet not sufficiently? We shall take up each problem in turn. First, how can a sister who does love some people warmly acquire a warmth toward others whom she finds unappealing? If a woman (or man) can love some per-sons warmly and deeply, her problem is motivational, not psychological, when she is cold toward others. Ba-sically she is capable of full human love, since as a matter of fact she does love humanly the few people that appeal to her. But she does not see that the others are also lova-ble and so she is not at all inclined to go out toward them. She needs to develop a largeness of heart, an op-timism of viewpoint that searches out beauty and good-ness, the largeness and optimism of St, Paul who saw enough beauty and goodness in his new (but far from perfect) Christians that he could view them as "God's beloved." If God loves a man, that man must somehow be lovable. It is our task to find out how. The warmth is then easier to come by. Yet it is not come. by without a concomitant spirit of sacrifice. If affection is to be shown toall men and not only to a select few,~the cross of self-denial must indeed be taken up daily. Otherwise we can-not be disciples, if the mark of a disciple is a love men can see and experience. A more perplexing problem (for the person who ex-periences it) is a total lack of affectionate feeling toward others. The problem is not only perplexing; it is likely to be both deep and of long standing. Its roots go back in most cases to an early home life in which little warm love was shown. Though the adult devoid of affection-ate feelings may say she needs neither manifestations of love from others nor her own showing of it to them, she is nevertheless a psychologically starved person. She may not understand what has happened to her, but she has built walls about her person. She is encapsuled. She is dying a death. She is in a state of psychological famine, dying of lovelessness. What can be done for this person who does not know how to love humanly and in a feminine manner? She may need professional therapy. She surely" needs a friend, a close friend. She needs understanding and ac-ceptance. She needs to learn that she is worthwhile, lovable. When she is accepted, understood, loved suffi-ciently, she will slowly become capable of returning love, of warming up to others. But the process is slow. All concerned with her problem need patience, herself included. + + + VOLUME 28, 1969 209 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 We may pause here to insist that the deeply felt need (even in a sister) to love and to be loved is no imperfec-tion. On the contrary, the deeper the need, the nobler the woman. It is the person who feels no need that is ill, for she is affectionately numb. On the physical level loss of appetite indicates illness, while hunger points to health and the consumption of vital energy. So also a hunger for love, real love, points toward psychological well-being, for deeply hidden in the recesses of the hu-man person is .the ontological clamor that goodness and beauty be recognized by another's love. Our final question: how does a religious who can and does love warmly develop and deepen her capacity for virginal affection? She must be herself, of course. She must grow normally as a woman with all the inner richness this implies. Genuine love is rooted. It cannot grow from the surface, from an inner vacuum. From the point of view of how this love is to be manifested the sister learns how a Christian virgin loves warmly by ob-serving those among her companions who do know how. Yet affection is not as easily taught as table manners. There is a universality about its signs, but there is also the uniquencess of the individual, and what is more unique than personal love? Still, a sister should be able to learn from the more finely developed among her companions how the consecrated woman shows her love for men. She learns, too, from her inborn reactions toward the opposite sex. Probably one reason why God made the sexes mutually attractive is that men and women learn from mutual relations how to show concern, warmth, cordiality toward members of their own sex. A normal, woman finds that affability toward men comes more naturally and easily than toward women. (And this is surely true also in the case of the man toward women.) Even though she does not show marks of love toward other women in exactly the same ways as toward men, she should learn much from the latter expe.riences, stemming as they do from her inborn feminine inclina-tion. Heterosexual love (which is not, of course, co-ter-ruinous with genital-sexual love), we may then say, is a partial model of human love in general. It is therefore a model for the virgin also, for she remains a sexual being with all the qualities and beauties this implies. The sister further develops her affectionate manner by a careful and prayerful contemplation of the gospel. After she has diligently studied her Christ embracing children for no other reason but to show warmth in His love, "looking with love" (a mysterious phrase) on a rich youth, correcting Martha in so gentle and tender a man-ner, weeping at Lazarus' tomb, she turns for further guidance to John, Peter, and especially to Paul. The letters of these virile (and before their conversion, crude) men are replete with examples of how to show affection in an adult manner. As an evangelical woman the sister should be filled with their spirit and practice. The final source from which the religious learns to love warmly: contemplation, deep contemplation, es-pecially infused contemplation. It is no accident that St. Paul reminds his Thessalonians that they "have learned from God to love one another" (1 Th 4:9). There is no better teacher of warmth and tenderness than He who could utter the divine verse recorded by Luke: "While he [a sinner] was still a long way off, his hther saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly" (Jerusalem Bible). One cannot get more affectionate than this. In the profound center of her own being where Love is more present to her womanly heart than she herself is the sister can find out how to be a loving woman. Though her indwelling Beloved teaches without words, He pours out from her deepest center the very love by Which she loves Him and others. Through the tenderness of His inner infusions she tastes and sees how good He is. She learns from experience that those who seek the Lord want for no good thing. Her good is to take refuge in the Lord she bears in her bosom and from Him she discovers what tenderness is like. So true is it that the contemplative learns from her inabiding Beloved how to be a lover herself, that we would suspect as inauthentic any alleged contemplation that is not accompanied by a warm love for others, or, at the very least, by a sincere, persevering effort in that direction. Contemplation cannot be walled in, aseptic, sterile. By its own inner dynamism, a vertical and horizontal en. ergy, it must burst out into love for men. Together with the instruction of Sacred Scripture and the love flowing out of the sacraments contemplation is the source of deep human love. All of which is to say that the sister must be a Scriptural woman, an ecclesia1 woman, a contemplative woman, if she is going to be a profoundly loving woman. 4. 4. VOLUME 28, 1969 PLACID STROIK, O.F.M. Sanctification and Conquest in the World With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land that we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own (JFK's Inaugural Address, January 1961). Once active faith in God's presence in the world takes hold of a man it begins to give direction to his actions. Not only does God's work really become his own, but also his work becomes the work of God. It is also a fact of experience that as things are it is impossible [or God to Work in this world without us. Very often we speak of God's great gifts to us "and all His marvelous works for us. At the same time we fail to realize the vast interplay and amount of work God has put into our hands to bring these gifts and works to their full development. Just as it is theologically incor-rect and misleading to expect salvation and sanctifica-tion through purely human effort, so also it is misleading to expect salvation even as a gift to come to us without. our effort of respgnse and acceptanc.e of this gift. It is much worse and also very unchristian to think that our faith with its heavy stress on another world and on be-coming holy has somehow absolved us from effort in building this world. ÷ Reconciling Upward and Forward ElYorts Pladd Stroik, O.F.M., is a mem-ber o[ the Francis. can Friars; Pulaski, Wisconsin 54162., ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 212 Historically it has always been a problem for followers of Christ to somehow bring together the vertical upward effort of sanctification and the horizontal forward effort of human progress and the conquest of the world. Over and over again the questions have been asked: Are they in opposition to each other? Is one just an acciden-tal backdrop to the other? Is there any inner connection between the two? In our present day these questions are extremely fundamental and are at the basis for much of the rethinking and turmoil going on in our religious doctrines and practices. Theologians as well as scientists are fast becoming aware of man's ability in the conquest of nature, the wor!d, and human life itself. This is beginning to put traditional religious ideas out of business. At one time, God, faith, the supernatural, and grace explained a lot of what happens around us. But now, man seems to get more answers and assurance out of things like space exploration, industrial and technical development, and human relations skills. As men put more and more ef-fort into understanding and controlling the universe we touch, see, and hear everyday, there is the conclusion developing that religious ideals and ideas no longer have a place in human life. The simple reasser.tion that God is alive and that He is important is not as convincing nor attractive as a heart transplant or a flight to the moon. That simply will not do. What is needed is a fresh outlook toward the way in which the process of becoming holy is somehow harmoniously interwoven with the human effort exerted in the direction of un-derstanding, building up, and controlling this universe. Such a fresh outlook will demand that we first of all get rid of all our false notions: about God and the world being in opposition to each other; about the supernatural being the best and the natural something that is second best or a mere accidental prelude to the supernatural; about the "afterlife" .being the sole im-portant thing and "nowlife" being a burdensome punish-ment. For many of us this also means trying to under-stand the correct way in which this present earthly life is a preparation for an open direct life with God. It means realizing that the universe is not some accidental stage play wherein what we do or what we build is meaningless unless we did it with a good intention and for the glory of God. What is required is the under-standing that the final coming of. Christ, just as His first coming, is conditioned by the development of man-kind. Because the full glory of Christ is intimately hound up with mankind it is also dependent upon the development of mankind. While the establishment of the new heavens and new earth spoken of in the Apoca-lypse is something Christ alone can bring about, it does not mean that they will appear out of the clear blue sky. Rather the unification that is evidently taking place among mankind seems to warrant the idea that until this unification is complete the entrance of the new heaven and new earth will not take place. The unification of mankind is not some kind of arbi-trary arrangement of individuals. It is in a very deep sense'th+ union brought about by the power and force of ÷ ÷ Conquest in World VOLUME 28, 1969 PlacidSOtt.Foi.lM~., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS love which is everywhere at work in the world. It is the same power which was at work on the first day of creation and is at work in the technological develop-ment of the world. It operates also in the specifically sanctifying deeds of the Incarnation, redemption, and their extensions, the sacraments. It is here that we can see the close connection between sanctification and de-velopment of the world. They are two efforts working in the same direction--the unification ~of mankind. Sanctification without the development of the world is unthinkable, just as development of the world without the painful redemptive efforts displayed and symbolized on the cross is an impossibility. The development of the world could not take place unless the effort to get rid of evil and disorganization were made as.well as the effort to see that truth, goodness, and beauty triumph. Sanctification must involve human endeavor and the op-eration of those powers which make a person to be a person, namely, his will, intelligence, and consciousness. As men use these powers in building up the world they are likewise working at their own unification. In this way the upward movement of becoming holy like God takes place while the forward movement of develop-ment of the universe is also taking place. The work of God and the work of man are constantly interchanging. We are not only becoming like God thru our work, but our work is more and more revealing God to us. Far from being in opposition, God's work of sanctification and man's work of building the universe are seen as two sides of the same coin or two paths to the same goal and destination. The sacred and the secular are closer to each other than we realize. Sanctification and Unification of the World It seems to be an unavoidable conclusion based pri-marily on man's experience .that the universe has been in a dynamic process of development and that the develop-ment is still going on. Looked at in its broadest sense, this development is best described as fulfilling the incompleteness of the creature and bringing organiza-tion and harmony to the disorder, failure, and disunity found at every level of created .being. Another way of looking at this is to think in terms of.°getting rid.of the evil, both moral and physical, that accounts for mechanical failures as well as the failures of the human will to choose the good. On this level we can see sanctification and unification working on the same broad principle. Sanctification is directed to furthering the God-centered harmonious functioning of man's powers of intellect, will, and consciousness, while unifi-cation is directed to an increasing organization of .the physical elements of the universe. In both the moral and physical sphere, mankind has had to wait for the proper time and the proper understanding of how these parts can better function together. Between the two processes of sanctification and,unifi-cation there is an exchange and an interdependence. For one thing, the harmonious functioning of man on the moral and spiritual level is obviously tied to a proper development of the physical well-being of the body. It does not guarantee good order on the moral level, but it is a condition. Health and wealth at a certain level are indispensable. We all know and experience that forced poverty has a way of crippling man's judgement of right and wrong, his sense of justice, and his esteem for his neighbor's welfare. Further, we should consider how the spread of the gospel, the development of moral value systems, and the knowledge of the sacramental means of sanctification are all dependent upon the proper use of mass communi-cations and upon a proper understanding of human re-lations and the difl~erent cultural values of a given group. On the other hand, sanctification and specifically Christian holiness and man's moral value systems as they develop and improve do assert a controlling effect on the direction and expression of physical evolution and technological advancement. For a very common ex-ample we can take the peaceful uses of nuclear energy which the moral values of nations are bringing about. Endeavor and Endurance for the Christian Today Because of the close interplay between the develop-ment of the .world and man's union with God, any religious ethic that separates the two is doomed not only to be unattractive but eventually will be proved to be erroneous. A legal morality of do's and don't's must give way to a dynamic morality of conquest. The pro-gram for a Christian today must be one that envisions union with God in and thru the world. In attaining this union, it is fundamental for Chris-tians to accept and understand that the universe by God's plan has been locked dead center on Christ. The world as we know it is headed toward Christ as its center and fullness. Every development both of material growth and spiritual growth is aimed at building up a new heaven and new earth, centered in Christ. In this conquest, the Christian consciously and all men by their very existence are called to collaborate enthusiastically, knowing that by their fidelity and obedience and also thru the work they have accomplished, they are com-pleting this universe. Each person must sincerely work at development. His + + ÷ Conquest in the World VOLUME 28, 1969 O~.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS own personal development and the conquest of the world are to be done not simply to keep oneself busy and out of trouble but because this effort is vital to the building up of the universe. All effort that promotes and directly increases the general consciousness of mankind is the best effort. The highest moral principles guiding hu-man action are not those which protect and safeguard man's rights and duties, but those Which promote the best development of the person, society, and the world. In other words, those things which are in the direction of growth of the spirit of man are good, and what is best is that what assures the highest development of the spiritual powers of the earth. If our action furthers the unification and development of the world and the peo-ple in it, it is a good action. The question comes up as to how we can determine if our action furthers growth. Basically our general goal is to increase personal responsibility, freedom, and hu-man consciousness. This is not an easy order, and that is "why emphasis must be placed on the three charac-teristics of human endeavor that will allow for the de-velopment of human consciousness and personal re-sponsibility: Purity, charity, and self-denial are three basic strengths which provide for the necessary growth. When speaking of purity it is important to under-stand it in a dynamic sense, not in any passive restrictive sense. Purity is that power which seeks to organize all our personal energies along the lines of personal whole-ness and integrity--getting rid of those elements in us which tend to pull our forces in a thousand disorganized directions. In unifying the powers of man, purity brings about a conquest and achievement which frees the person for an ever greater expression of the power of love. Purity seeks the unification of the person, while charity is directed to the unification of persons among themselves. For many of us love or charity is simply a command to avoid hurting our neighbor or overstep-ping his rights. This is a rather narrow, negative view of charity. It fails to take in the dynamic element of active furthering of the growth of our neighbor and of the whole universe. Love as energy in its widest sense is the power which draws all things together. It has a synthesizing effect. Love when it takes on the form of Christian charity is all the more powerful because it is the effort of unification, but now in Christ and thru Christ. Charity inspired by Christ is charity which moves and advances mankind and the whole universe toward Him. In the final analysis, love is not only positive and dynamic, but universal and totally directed to building up the world into a unity in Christ. For the Christian who is sincerely interested in the true progress and development of the world, the mes-sage of the cross in terms of self-denial, detachment, and renunciation is as important as seeing a computer operate an assembly line and a turbine generator light a city. He knows and experiences the detachment that must go into an enthusiastic collaboration with the whole human effort in furthering the growth of the world toward the fullness of Christ. In accomplishing any ideal, the difficult labor involved is necessarily a victory over selfishness and egotistical laziness. This detachment thru .action on the material of life is a continuation of and is patterned on the method ex-pressed in the Incarnation--immersion and insertion into the world so as to transform and lead the world to God. But experience shows us that the most radical trans-formation of people and things takes place not thru a simple laborious effort to create and produce but thru the endurance of evils and failures, stresses and painful strains including that of death. A world that is still in the process of development must of necessity have fail-ures and faults for the simple reason that it is not com-plete. Thru the plan of God and man's cooperation, the failures can be brought to serve a higher purpose. Even the impurity in a stone can be made to add beauty and tone to the final product. A moral defect thru the trans-formation of repentance can be the occasion of a greater good. All of the suffering involved in the endurance of evil and that of death has for its final aim the union of man with God in and thru Christ. Such union cannot take place without a going out of oneself. Union revolves around love and love means giving oneself to the one loved. Death in our world is the process by which the final and complete union with God is accomplished. It is the decentering of our self and centering on God. This involves a change of state, but in all development at a certain point a complete rearrangement of elements is necessary for the further functioning on a higher level. The significance of Christ's necessary death and His new form of life after it is a fact of history which is able to give validity and assurance to all men that death is not the end of all but the door to a change of life. Contemporary Man and the Future It is easy enough for modem man to exert the effort to build a new world if the dangers and ris~ are not too great. The vast development of the world which we are now experiencing is not an absolute guarantee that man's progress will always be forward and upward. The 4- ÷ .Conquest in the VOLUME 28, 1969 " 217 temptation to revolt in the face of great odds and diffi-culties is as possible as it ever was. As man becomes more complex and his consciousness more highly developed, the possibilities for further progress are just as good as the possibilities for destruction. It all depends how man chooses to use his powers--in the direction of greater growth in true Christian life or in selfish temporary satisfaction. The urgency to get out of oneself and build a better world for all men is not a call to be answered later. The forces involved in a developing universe are forces that are centered in Christ and ultimately in God the Father. Christ's invitation to be with Him and gather or else to be against Him and scatter is both a promise and a threat that either we build with Him or be cast aside into unending disorganization and disunity. Heaven and hell are as real as they are totally opposite each other. Heaven is full of life in perfect harmony. Hell is empty life in total discord. Man at every point in history must simply choose to build the earth and its spiritual forces in and with Christ or to build a "nothing" out-side Him. + 4. + P/~id O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CARLO A. WEBER, S.J. The Field oJ Combat: Neurotic or Existential Guilt There is no domain in which the acute problem of communication between theology and psychology is more evident than in the experience of guilt. Stormy en-counters on the nature and origins of the experience, its place in human development, its effects on human lives wage on without much hope of resolution, largely because the language, the symbols, and the context of the discussion are not the same for all the contestants. The field of combat is common to all; but the rules of the game are not ~he same. A split-level mode of com-munication has prevailed. Jung remarked of this en-counter that " . both appear to use the same language, but the language calls up in their minds two totally different fields of association. Both [theologians and psychologists] can apparently use the same concept, and then are bound to acknowledge to their amazement that they are speaking of two different things." And to make the issue even more complex, one can add the profes-sional legalist to the lists. For from yet another stance, the lawyer is also concerned with problems of guilt. The experience of guilt, then, is the common playing field for theologians, psychologists, lawyers. But for each, it means whatever the methodological conditioning of his own discipline obliges it to mean. For the moral theologian, it has generally suggested reprehensibility, culpability, blame-worthiness, sin. For the lawyer, it means, specifically, responsibility before the law, civil or ecclesiastical, or criminality as determined by legal can-ons. And for the psychologist, in sharp contrast, it im-plies rather a first-level symptom, the crippling expres-sion of a depreciating self-concept, perhaps the residue of a super-ego-oriented childhood training. + 4- ,I, Carlo A. Weber, S,J., is Director o[ Psychological Serv-ices; Loyola Univer-sity of Los Angeles; Los Angeles, Cali-fornia 90045. VOLUME 28, 1969 219 Carlo Weber, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 220 When the discussants in the dialogue use the same word to denote such utterly different things, communica-tion soon dissolves into futile bickering over semantics. Guilt is sin; guilt is crime; guilt is symptom. The vocal sounds one hears in the dialogue alert the same signals; but the phenomena signalized are in no way the same. In such a conversation of nonmeanings, a fruitless and frus-trating collision course is inevitable. It is like approach-ing a railroad crossing without the slightest assurance that the waving semaphore symbolizes an approaching train or an unimpeded right-of-way. One would be better off without the semaphore in such a case; and so we might be better off without the word "guilt." The "guilt-language," as the "God-language" in many instances, or the "soul-language," oi other similar efforts at non-communication might best be scrapped, that we might attempt an uncluttered look at the phenomenological realities and then allow a new language to emerge to fit the reality. Orwell's "New-speak," or Cattell's crypto-scientific system of operational definitions in psycho-metrics may, however wild they first seem, be something of the answer. We might well avoid the confusion that always arises from previous connotations to a word by introducing entirely different sound associations. The present state of affairs, then, is largely one in which the language of guilt tends to divide authorities rather than to aid communication between them. When the psychologist hears his legal associate describe a man's guilt in court and watches him step nimbly through what appears to be a maze of legal fictions, he finds the process frightfully objective, abstract, impersonal, inhuman. But the lawyer is not really describing the psychologist's "guilt." The theologian is properly horri-fied, on the other hand, when he hears the psychologist's attempts to gloss over the reality of guilt and speak of it as some neurotic myth. This, to him, is a form of "psy-chologizing"-- foggy, anarchic, and sentimental. But the psychologist is not, in fact, describing the theologian's "guilt" either; indeed, if he is loyal to his methodology, he has nothing to say of it. One could, of course, con-tinue with this litany of misunderstanding; the cross-cultural impasses are possibly as evident as the semantic circus of an international diplomatic conference. Though it may be next to impossible to draw meaning from this semantic labyrinth, we are, nonetheless, stuck with it. It is of value to note that within the verbal en-tente, orientations which have traditionally set the con-testants apart do emerge. It may be helpful to try to clarify them. For the psychologist, guilt is strictly a sub-jective phenomenon, a feeling, if you will, that can be-come almost the pervasive element of one's inner experi- ence. The psychologist, as such, is little concerned about the external, objective counterpart of the experience. His world, as a clinician, is the perceptual world, not pre-cisely the accuracy of the percepts. Whether one's feeling of guilt, therefore, is rooted in anti-social actions, or in an interiorized, guilt-ridden self-concept is not pre-cisely the point. It is now the individual's feeling; and the psychologist deals with it as such. He also realizes that the intensity of the experience is not necessarily in proportion to the quality of an external action or event. One individual may experience crushing guilt subsequent to running a red light at a deserted intersection; another may remain blandly guilt-free after bludgeoning a harm-less old lady's skull. Such a feeling of guilt is clearly not the function of some specific external action; but it is rather the correlate and the expression of his own inner awareness of his value, or rather the lack of it. The inner awareness is the point of differentiation for the psycholo-gist. For both the moral theologian and the lawyer, however, there is an objective emphasis in the philosophy of guilt. An objective norm which has been violated is the criterion according to which one assesses guilt. That norm, of course, is not the same for both. For the lawyer, it is the civil or common law. For the moralist, it is the "will of God," expressed either through canon law, or the magisterium of a teaching Church, or the Sacred Books, or the natural law. But in each case, the norm is an external one; and guilt is the function of a violation of that norm. Once that has been established, the legalist can turn his atten-tion to the degree of individual-culpability, for example, knowledge of the existence of the norm, consciousness at the moment of violation, presence or absence of over-whelming emotional or physical duress, and so forth. So long as we can reasonably assume some subject-ob-ject dichotomy, these two arrangements appear to be quite different. The moral theologian and the lawyer, both with their own specific articulation of the norm of behavior, regard guilt as the individual's posture be-fore the law; the psychologist sees it more as the individ-ual's posture before himself. That there is room for an overlapping of these dimensions is as true as the fact that the subject-object dichotomy is not crystal clear; but, with that qualification, the criteria are different, and so also are the semantic worlds built around the two points of view. Unfortunately, the tradition of morality in the West has been heavily legal since the days when the Latin rite was imposed on the Western Church. And with the Latin rite came the Roman tradition which was one of law and legal prescriptions. The language and the emphasis of Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 Carlo Weber, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 the Western Church, when addressing itself to questions of mor~ility and guilt, has been on the side of law. Moral textbooks became classic examples of legal casu-istry. Room was always left, to be sure, for the "subjec-tive," as preserved in the distinction between formal and material sin; but the bulk of any discussion inevi-tably turned about a consideration of the objective or material guilt. Scarcely more than a condescending nod was given to the presence of the subjective element as the final determinant of sinfulness, with something of a begrudging acknowledgement that that aspect, after all, was the most important. But no effort at all was ex-pended, until very recent times, in attempting to provide some phenomenological map of the subjective. Perhaps the futility of that prospect obliged the moralists to turn their attention to the legal puzzle that was, after all, more intellectually satisfying and a good deal more comfort-able. One would suggest, mindful of the discussions swirling about Pope Paul's encyclical, Humanae vitae, that it is clear that the legal emphasis is still the pre[ vailing attitude of the official Church. The rupture within the Church is precisely a function of the person versus Law approaches to morality and guilt. When the law becomes the criterion for human be-havior, the stage is set for casuistic thinking :about morality. This implies a mental "set" in which one is concerned chiefly with the degree of deviation from the norm. How far, for example, can I deviate from the statement of the law and still be safe? Or, at what point of deviation do I stray from the area of safety to the do-main in which I must be classified as a sinner, if it be a moral law, or a criminal, if it be a civil law? Legal guilt is the consequence of straying outside the latitude which the law allows. In that area the legalo-moralist conducts his conceptual jousting. Only recently have attempts been made to bring about a wedding of the law and the personal in the various modes of situational ethics. And this, of course, is both the effect of the communion of psychologists and theologians and a stimulating rein-forcement for it. The norm becomes more an ideal which one strives to approach continuously throughout his life rather than a law from which one deviates. Neurotic Guilt The genesis of neurotic guilt, as described by the psychopathologist, follows a commonly described nuclear process that was most brilliantly outlined originally by Karen Horney. There are four discernible stages. The process begins with a faulty personality development in childhood. The child, whose first self-concept, as such, is the result of the interiorization of the value placed upon him by his parents, sees himself as those significant people in his life see him. If the child is rejected, un-wanted, ignored, neglected, he begins at an .early stage in psychological development to see himself as unworthy, unlovable. This is a fairly obvious situation and need not be explored at any length. The rejected child anticipates rejection' from others because that is the extent of his experience; and he can, in gross instances, unconsciously provoke rejection by hostile, abrasive conduct, precisely because of this expected response pattern. Such a child is almost bound to "always hurt the one he loves." At the other extreme of parental reaction, the child can be overprotected in his early years. The result is the absence of any process of growth into independence. The custo-dial love of the parent prevents the possibility of growth, and the child remains weak, helpless, dependent. In terms of the growth of a self-concept, the child will tend to see himself in the same manner and behave as such. No one is unfamiliar with the suffocating, devouring, .de-structive mother-child relationship, described first by Strecker, who coined the phrases "Morn" and "Mom-ism" in his classic, Their Mothers" Sons. The notion has become virtually a household word since, made even more popular with the expression of theories of a bur-geoning matriarchal society. Interestingly enough, the effect on the self-concept of the child of both rejection and overprotection is ap-proximately the same. These are simply two sides of the same coin. In either case, the child is not being valued for himself. The rejected child is not loved at all; the overprotected child is not loved, except as the mirror reflection of the mother, whose narcissistic needs are pro-jected on him. In both instances, the child disappears. This is also true, but not to the same extent, in the situa-tion where the parents' love for the child is conditional. The child is loved providing he follows certain ground rules established by the parents. Ground rules are essen-tial, of course, but they ought not to be the condition for acceptance. If they are, the child sees himself as valuable and lovable only as long as he continues to ful-fill the regulations for being loved. He ,must continue to perform the tasks prescribed; and, in time, the task-oriented process becomes a way of life. Whether the child is rejected, overprotected or conditionally-loved, the effect, in varying degrees, is the same. The child perceives him-self as inadequate, unlovable, helpless, or constantly in need of proving his value. The moral analogue to the psychological feeling of ineptness or inadequacy is the feeling of guilt. The latter is merely a translation 'of the same feeling from psycho-logical language to moral language. To say, in a psycho-÷ ÷ 4- Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS logical context;.that I am weak, flaccid,, incompetent, un-lovable is the same as saying, in a moral context, I am bad, sinful, guilty. The difference here between the neu-rotic guilt and genuine forms of responsible guilt lies in the difference between the phrase "I am bad" and the statement "I do bad things." The former is a description of the basic personality of the self-depreciating neurotic; the latter a description of occasional activity. The most apt expression of the neurotic guilt feeling was given me, quite incidentally, by a woman patient, who was in-credibly scrupulous. For her, every action was a sin. In a therapy session, she remarked, rather in passing: "You know, sin is in my veins." And with this cryptic obser-vation, she sums it all up. "Sin, badness, is as much a part of me as my very blood. It describes my life, my being, my essence, as it were. And since I am, in es-sence, sinful, every action, which, in fact, is an expres-sion of my nature, must be sinful. I shall either discover it there, as the scrupulou

Issue 28.5 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW VOR R~Joxous; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with eccleslastmal appro~ d by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louts Umverslty, the editorial olhces being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boulevard, Same Louts, ~dlssouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright t~) 1969by REVIEW roa REt.lmo~s at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mars-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in LI.S.A currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REview vor~ RELIGIOL$ Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvlF.w vo~ RELInIot~s; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw FOrt RE~.IoIot:s; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard, Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 5 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL, S.J. Some Reflections on the Religious Life It is no secret that today many religious are under-going a painful identity crisis. Participating in the con-fusion that always accompanies dramatic change in cul-tural patterns (complicated by the extreme rapidity of this change in our modern world), religious are further troubled by the problems posed very existentially to them in their effort to obey the call of Vatican II to renew their authentic living of the gospel pattern ac-cording to the original inspiration of their founder and to adapt their way of living to the signs of the times. The breakdown of external structures which in the past had supported their interior commitment, the loss of comforting customs which had provided a kind of.touch-stone of authenticity (however formalized one felt them to be), the disconcerting shift of attitudes toward the place of the religious life within the Church, the value placed upon active insertion into a secularized world, the challenges to faith itself posed by new theological and liturgical languages and symbols--all of these fac-tors together have brought up in' the minds of many religious agonizing questions concerning the value and even the validity of their lives. A basic question that is often repeated is whether it is possible to specifically distinguish religious life from lay life as a Christian. Having grown up in a culture that took it for granted that the religious life was the "way of perfection" and a "higher" or "better" form of Christian living and, perhaps, having included this idea within the complex of personal motives for following the vocation to the religious life, some re-ligious feel lost and without identity in a world where such abstract and tendentious comparisons are no longer significant. Members of various religious congregations wonder whether there is anything really meaningful in their specific vocation. A divisive and potentially death- 'dealing polarization develops in some communities be- John Carroll Futrell, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University Divinity School; 220 North Spring Ave-nue; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63108. VOL~UME 28, 1969 705 + ÷ ÷ ~lohn Carroll Futrell, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tween those who cling for personal survival to old structures of living, praying, and working, and those who are impatient to reject all that has gone before and to embrace all that is new simply because it is new. The following reflections are addressed to only some aspects of these difficult problems. Much time and prayer Will be needed before effective solutions are found to .them. Nevertheless, it is important that religious do reflect upon them and that they share their reflections with one another in an effort to discern what God is asking of us as religious in our own times. What is offered in the following pages, then, are some reflections, firstly, on the meaning of Christian spirituality in it-self-- whether lived by laymen or by religious; then, on the accurate location of the difference between lay life and religious life; and, finally, on the religious life as institutionalized in the Church and on the function of community structures within religious congregations. A Christian is a person whose life in the world derives its meaning from his faith in Jesus Christ encountered in His Church--who discovers in Jesus Christ God re-vealing Himself to man, judging and freeing us by the cross and resurrection of Christ, and sending His Spirit to enable us to share now and forever in the divine life of the Trinitarian community of love. Ad-herence to a creed of truths, following a moral code, commitment to living out certain religious values: all these are consequences of the basic faith experience of the person of Jesus Christ. A person who merely in-tellectually assents to propositions or who merely decides to espouse certain humanitarian values derived from the gospel is not truly a Christian unless these positions are expressions of his commitment in faith to Jesus Christ and of his belief in the good news which Christ proclaimed. When this faith in Jesus Christ is freely and de-cisively assumed as personal commitment by a person (and not merely as a sociological fact of "religion" in his life), this is the result of a personal experience of the person of Jesus Christ. That is to say, the individual recognizes in the divine revelation in Christ, witnessed to by the Apostles and handed down by the Church, the identification of the universal experience of the trans-cendent- the unknown God obscurely encountered in the openness of the human spirit to the mysterious Absolute. In spite of all the various scientific, philo-sophical, psychological, and magical efforts to explain away this experience, it remains real and undeniable in the self-awareness of human beings who have achieved a certain level of consciousness. Indeed, most children seem to have a real experience of God when they are very young. Wordsworth wrote reams of poetry testifying to this. Teilhard de Chardin has written eloquently of the growth of his experience in The Divine Milieu and has pointed out the errors into which men have fallen "in their attempts to place or even to name the uni-versal Smile" (Torch Books, p. 129). Contact with the Other who makes us feel his presence-in-absence in this experience has been the underlying goal of all the great world religions--and of the psychedelic games of today. The Christian is the person who recognizes in Jesus Christ the face of God: "I am in the Father and the Father is in me." Christian faith experience, then, is the consciousness ¯ of recognition: a recognition of the one true God ex-perienced in one's own interior experience of fulfill-ment, of completion, of "coming home" in faith in Jesus Christ; a recognition experienced also in seeing the lives of Christians who embody the word proclaimed by the Church, in the word of Scripture, in the break-ing of the Eucharistic bread, and progressively in one's own experience of new manhood through lived faith. Faith is certitude derived from the authenticity of witness---of signs--and experienced through living it. It is vital to recognize the particular form of certitude had in faith. It is the certitude of experiential experi-ence, the certitude that comes from fully experienced living. This is the highest form of practical certitude enjoyed by human beings, the form of certitude upon which we base our actual living. It has been well said that "theory is good, but it does not excuse you from living." Men do not guide their lives by the coherent symmetry of logical theories but by the practical under-standing that comes from the certitude of lived ex-perience. For example, the only way that I know that another person really loves me is by faith certitude. I cannot "get into the skin of another," cannot share the unique and incommunicable act of self-awareness within which the other freely determines his relation-ships to all that is exterior to himself---including me. My assurance that he does indeed love me can be based only on signs--words, gestures, all the human modes of non-verbal communication, actions of self-giving, and so forth. Yet, I can come to the greatest certitude of his love because of my lived experience of it. The certitude of faith in Jesus Christ, then, is the certitude of lived experience. It is faith--not the knowl-edge derived from empirical experience of the senses or of microscopes or test tubes, not the knowledge result-ing from the logical necessity of a syllogism, but faith + + 4. VOLUME 28, '1969 707 John Futrell, $.]. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS in witness and signs authenticated in the living per-sonal experience of God in the person of Jesus Christ risen and living in His Church. The experience of God is always the experience of presence-in-absence, just as is the experience of personal relationship with any person. Because another person is constituted in his selfhood by his unique self-aware-ness, there always remains a new depth of his person to be penetrated, a further horizon of mutual knowledge and love to beckon us onward. The greatest degree of union and love we reach in our mutual presence always opens outwards to a new profundity yet to be sought --the fascinating and wonderful absence discovered in mutual presence which makes personal relationship a dynamic always growing life and not a gtatic, finished work. Our personal relationship with God in prayer is characterized by this same presence-in-absence, this same experienced love and union, this same certitude of something being lived. Indeed, even our self-awareness is marked by presence-in-absence. The only "I" that I am is the self of the present moment summing up all my past history and straining towards my future self-actualization. But I never grasp this present of myself: it slips into my past even as I try to focus upon it. I know the present, my present, only in the lived experieuce of a unique kind of actuality, of plenitude, of density and richness. I know myself with certitude as presence-in-absence. In the lived experience of God as presence-in-absence in prayer, there is a similar plenitude, richness, density, actuality; and in opening ourselves to welcome God in this experience, we are conscious of a profound tran-quillity, peace, calm--a recognition of "rightness," of our authentic, fulfilled selves. It is this primordial ex-perience of peace in absolute openness to God, in total responsiveness to His word, which, is the touchstone of all future discernment of specific response to a specific divine call in a here and now situation. This experi-enced certitude of lived faith is discovered through the authentic testimony of witnesses who embody the word for us, and it is grasped in our own act of faith because of the signs manifested by these witnesses. This certitude grows progressively stronger as we have the living experience of our own faith, until our faith in God in Jesus Christ becomes the greatest certitude of our lives, a certitude daily renewed and accomplished anew everyday, just as is our love of another. On the other hand, it is important to notice the es-sential difference between the experience of personal relations with other human persons and with God in Christ. Another human is bodily present to me and his body mediates his interiority to me. God is not bodily present to me nor is the risen Christ in His human body. I cannot affirm the existence of God as the basis of the experience of his presence-in-absence as I can affirm the existence of another man. Even philosophical demonstrations of the existence of God, while they may be perfectly valid, do not give me God as the object of interior experience. For this reason, even the greatest mystics have always testified that they never felt that their interior experi-ence placed them outside the domain of faith. It is al-ways by faith, which is essentially a divine gift originat-ing from a gracious divine initiative, that we come to realize our experience of God in Christ. The Christian life, then, is a faith--a life of faith. No matter how we analyze the spiritual life according to human scien-tific categories, the object of our experience never leaves the realm of faith. That is why divine revelation in the Bible in no way claims to be a theory of our relations with God. On the contrary, it is the history of this relation which is there taught. And it is fundamental that the origin of our existence and of our reIationship with God is His divine initiative, that the beginning of this history is divine. This fact exactly situates the continuing relationship between God and us: every-thing depends upon His divine initiative. Faith is al-ways a gift. To be a Christian, then, means to live a life grounded in the personal faith experience of God in Jesus Christ. Now, human beings first experience--first live, and only thereafter do they seek to express their experiences and to reflect upon them. It is vital, therefore, to dis-tinguish the lived experience from its expression and from theoretical reflection upon this expression. In the life of the Church, lived Christian experience, the living tradition of the Christ-event as experienced by the community of believers, is primordial. The expressions of this experience at various historical and cultural epochs during the last two thousand years are only temporally conditioned, relative expressions of this ex-perience. The role of theology within the Church is always the re-expression and the re-interpretation of this primordial Christian experience in contemporary language, contemporary conceptual structures, contem-porary cultural contexts. What is essential is always authentically to preserve spiritual continuity across rad-ical cultural discontinuity. Similarly, the faith experience of an individual Chris-tian, beginning with his earliest experiences of God as a child, are necessarily conditioned in their relative expression by the language, the. symbols, the images ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 28, 1969 709 John Carroll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~10 available to him at a given age and stage of maturity. As he grows humanly and intellectually and rejects the anthropomorphic images of early childhood, such as God the kind grandaddy with a long beard, or the romantic idealizations of adolescence (which were the only modes of expression then available to him), he must not at the same time reject his certitude of the lived experience of God. All the great masters of prayer testify that prayer becomes progressively simpler, more and more leaning upon bare faith, less and less at-tached to a series of concepts or emotions. This is because one is entering more profoundly into the density and richness of God's presence-in-absence, into the lived experience of personal union with God in Christ which is beyond expression and theorizing. There is no greater certitude in life than this lived experience of God. The individual Christian, too, must preserve au-thentic spiritual continuity across the radical discon-tinuity of his language and images and symbols as he grOWS. Now, the Christian, having found the meaning of his life in the world in his faith in Jesus Christ, must live this faith in all the situations of his daily life. He must witness to his faith by a Christian style of life, a Christian spirituality. This is always true of all Chris-tians, even though the concrete expressions of this life style are relative to the historical and cultural context and the concrete situations within which Christianity is being lived. The essential elements of Christian spirituality are always the same: living out Christ's great command-ment of love according ~o the general norms He enunci-ated in the Beatitudes and exemplified in His life. How-ever, these essential elements will be expressed in different ways discerned by prophetically interpreting ex-istential situations, that is to say, by prayerfully reflect-ing upon the challenges posed by the signs of the times in the light of the gospel, in order to recognize and respond to God's word here and now. It is through listening to the world--the existential word of God--- and at the same time listening to the Spirit--the pro-phetic word of God in Christ in the Church and in the individual Christian--that through a continuing dia-lectic the Christian discerns how to live his Christian faith here and now. He confirms the validity of the decision arrived at through this discernment by com-paring his inner experience of peace and tranquillity in this specific choice with the peace and tranquillity enjoyed in his primordial experience of openness and surrender to God in Christ. All Christians are called to this essential Christian spirituality. In living their discerned life style, all Chris-tians must witness to both the incarnational and the eschatological aspects of the Christ life which animates the Church: the presence of the Spirit of the risen Christ in His Church renewing tile earth by unifying mankind and transforming the universe--building the earth to its fulfillment in Christ-Pleroma; and also the Christian hope in Christ who is to come in the final accomplish-ment of the kingdom of God in the Parousia. All Chris-tians must express the "cosmological" love of God im-manent in the ongoing new creation accomplished by the Spirit of Christ through the efforts of men in the history of the world; and all must express the "trans-cendent" love of God the absolute future of man--the Father who is known only in Christ, the Trinitarian community of love which will be shared perfectly by men in their union with one another and with the Father in Christ through the Spirit when Christ comes again. The manner in which individual Christians are to express ,this twofold Christian love is discerned in the here and now situation of their own historical and cultural context. This individual expression takes place within the community of Christians and is grounded in the initiative that comes from God: different gifts, dif-ferent charisms, different divine initiatives, different calls--all for the service of the entire People of God, all ordered to the community expression of the Christ life in the world and to the embodiment of the two aspects of Christian love. II Essentially, then, there is only one Christian spirit-ualitv, always aimed at the full possession of all men b~ tl~e Father through Christ in the Spirit. This is true because there is only one essential Christian vision of the meaning of life in the world, a vision based upon the faith experience of God revealing Himself to men in Christ through the Spirit living in the Church. The differences in the manner of living out this one spirituality originate in the various expressions of this spirituality determined by historical and cultural con-texts and, also, in the different charisms given by the Holy Spirit to individual Christians to enable them to serve the Church in specific ways. The distinctive func-tions within the Church of bishops, priests, religious, and laymen are grounded in these different charisms. The distinctive styles of life or spiritualities observable in the lives of married persons and religious are simply distinctive ways of living the one Christian spirituality ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 ~ohn Carroll ~ Futrell, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which must he fully expressed by the whole Church as a community. For instance, an essential element in the one spirit-uality of all Christians is evangelical poverty in its root meaning of an attitude (a beatitudel) of anawim: aware-ness of man's dependence upon God in Christ resulting in single-hearted seeking of God and issuing in acts of peacemaking and of mercy towards others. This attitude must be embodied by all Christians in lives showing forth the two-fold incarnational and eschato-logical Christian love. Living as anawim according to the Beatitudes, all Christians often will discern the call to acts of renunciation of real human values in order to be true to their faith in Christ; and these actions will witness not only to their faith in the risen Christ present in the Church and renewing creation here and now, but also to their eternal hope in Him who is to come in the final fulfillment of the kingdom--their existen-tial acknowledgment of God as the absolute future of man in Christ. The vowed evangelical poverty and chastity and obedience of Christians who are called to the religious life, then, is not the only way to practice or to express the eschatological aspect of Christian love. Neverthe-less, the life of the vows is the only way to manifest this aspect through the signification of an entire life to bear permanent, visible witness to it in the world. Any Christian living out his Christianity authentically .is called upon in many ways to renounce various goods and values in order to take up his cross and follow Jesus. Think of men and women who in order to fulfill their vocation in the sacrament of marriage or as parents or as truly just and loving neighbors to other men are challenged to sacrifice desirable goods and values for the sake of fidelity to Christ in their daily lives. Never-theless, the overall, visible style of li[e of the l~y Christian in its permanent life pattern manifests above all the aspect of Christian love in the Church which is to work in the world in order to transform it in Christ, continuing the incarnation of Christ by building the earth. Although this Christian lay life includes and, when necessary, expresses the eschatological aspect of the Church, it shows forth in its basic dynamism the in-carnational aspect. On the .other hand, a religious in his actual work of serving the Church normally is equally engaged in the ,work of building up Christ in mankind and in the world. He too lives and expresses the incarnational as-pect to the Church. But by the public foregoing of the 'high, positive, human values renounced through his vows, the total meaning of the being-in-the-world of the religious becomes the tangible insertion into this incarnational dynamism of the eschatological aspect which is visibly manifested through the overall, perma-nent pattern of life according to the evangelical coun-sels. To make permanently visible to men this eschato-logical dimension of the Church is the specific meaning of the religious life as a distinctive way of living Christianity. As Karl Rahner has pointed out, that which con-stitutes the unique signification of the vowed evangelical counsels in the religious life is that this is the perma-nent foregoing of high, positive, human values for the sake of a value which cannot be the object of a direct experience, a value which necessarily must be believed in and hoped [or. By their vows religious abandon a possible experience in favor of a value that is now possessed only in faith and hope. That is to say, it is possible for me to have the experience of possessing the results of my work, of having a wife and children, of exercising my own autonomy of choice; but I possess the value of the fulfillment of the kingdom now only in my faith and hope in Christ who is to come. The re-nunciation of the vows is a visible manifestation of permanent and absolute openness to God's future for man in Christ. This renunciation, therefore, is the visible expression and the continual realization of love for God much more in the eschatological dimension of this love than in its terrestrial or incarnational dimen-sion. Even the unbeliever must recognize the meaning of a gesture of faith and hope and love which is the perma-nent renunciation of these positive human, values through the vows. For example, a man in vowing chas-tity "puts his body on the line" until death because of his faith and hope and love of Christ who is to come, and thereby he visibly witnesses in a most striking way to this faith and hope and love. One can believe that this faith and hope and love is absurd, but one cannot deny its depth in the People of God among whom it can call forth such a visible testimony. All Christians, then,--religious and lay--must live both incarnational and eschatological love. But the over-all pattern and significance of the Christian lay vocation is visible witness to the incarnational aspect of the Church, while the overall pattern and significance of the religious life of the vowed evangelical counsels is visible witness to the eschatological aspect. The distinction between lay life and religious life in the Church, therefore, is not to be sought in a difference of the basic Christian vision o~ of the essential Christian spirituality. The distinction is. to be sought, 4. VOLUME 28a 1969 ÷ John Carroll Futrell, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS rather, in the variety of charisms and the different modes of response to the divine initiative. The difference arises from distinctive ways of living the one Christian life, that is, particular ways of responding to and of ex-pressing the love of God through following Christ within a permanent life pattern having a specifically different, total, overall signification than do other particular ways of living Christianity. Whatever might be concluded through theoretical discussions based upon various hier-archical models, there can be no question in the real order of one Christian way of life being "higher" or "better" than another. It is a question rather of a charism, of the divine initiative and authentic response to it which can only be the "best" for the individual person responding to God's call to him. III A community of persons has a history, just as does an individual person. In the history of the community of Christian believers, the Church, there has been from the beginning an evolution of "structured" charisms, dis-cerned by the community as authentic responses to the divine initiative for service of the People of God. These structured charisms have been lived by groups of in-dividuals who have been given these charisms, organiz-ing themselves into institutionalized communities for service of the Church through lives devoted primarily either to prayer, to spiritual or corporal works of mercy, or to apostolic mission. In this way, the religious life developed as a distinctive, institutionalized way of liv-ing Christianity, eventually having its own juridical description in canon law. From the groups congregat-ing around St. Antony in the desert to the official recognition of secular institutes in 1948, this evolution has continued (as it still does) in the response of Chris-tians to divine initiatives within diverse historical and cultural contexts. A Christian who discerns that he has been given the charism of service of the Church in the religious life enters into the institutional structure of this charism by public, vowed commitment to the three evangelical counsels, declared to the whole People of God repre-sented by the one who in the name of the Church re-ceives the vows. By so doing, this Christian establishes himself in a permanent, distinctive life style which has a special and unique force as a sign of one aspect of the one spirituality of the entire Christian commu-nity. His response to the divine initiative is, therefore, his acceptance of the charism of his vocation. The personal experience of Jesus Christ is the basis of all Christian faith. When this experience is char- acterized by certain qualities, the result is that one is simply impelled to give his whole life and all his love to Jesus Christ through living the vowed evangelical counsels. Depending upon certain other characteristics of this personal experience of Jesus Ctirist, one feels simply impelled to consecrate all his life and energy to prayer for the People of God in the contemplative life or to their active service and to helping other persons to share this faith experience of Jesus Christ through apostolic mission. This Christian's whole life as a re-ligious is grounded in this faith experience; and it depends for its growth and depth and permanence upon the growth and depth and permanence of his personal relationship to Jesus Christ in love. The original charism must come to its complete fulfillment. The individual choice to live the religious life in one specific religious community rather than another is the result of the judgment that one's own response to the divine initiative discerned in the charism of his vocation can be best embodied in this specific community voca-tion. He discovers his personal identity as a Christian person precisely in the community identity of this re-ligious order or congregation. The community identity of a given religious congre-gation is rooted in the original inspiration of the founder(s), the basic vision of a particular way of follow-ing Christ, which underlies all the different techniques devised to try to live out this vision within different historical and cultural contexts. Where, as in many apostolic congregations, the basic vision of various com-mumtles as similar or even identical, the specific differ-ence of these congregations arises from their particular approach to service or mission and from the history of each congregation in living out the basic vision. The history of an institution progressively charac-terizes this institution in its identity, just as the personal history of a man characterizes his identity. A man of forty carries with him the accumulated characteristics oflhis own personal evolution. His face and body and psychology are marked by specific traits by which he identifies himself to himself and by which other people identify him. This is equally true of different religious congregations. That which is essential today, then, in order to ac-complish authentic renewal of religious congregations is to truly discover the original inspiration of the founder, the basic vision, the radical intention neces-sarily expressed by the founder in the language (images, symbols, gestures, practices, ways of action) of his own historical and cultural context. 0nly when this basic vision is clear is it possible to discern how to express it ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 28~ 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ John Carroll Futrell, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS authentically in the new language imposed upon us by the signs of our times: to preserve spiritual con-tinuity across cultural discontinuity. Furthermore, since there is no infallible guarantee of the permanent worth of this basic vision, and since charisms can be given for time-conditioned service of the People of God, it must be discerned whether or not the basic vision and, so, the existence of a given religious congregation is still valid and valuable in the ongoing life of the Church. When it is discerned that a religious congregation can still make a real contribution to the life and mission of the Church, then courageous and loyal adaptation of life style must be undertaken in order to renew the true embodiment of the basic vision of this community here and now. Whatever means are discerned to be authentic and effective for this end, these will have to be structured into the life of the community. The com-munity is made up of individual body-persons who find their own personal identity in the community identity. Their mutual union in this community of persons is grounded in this profound identification of life meaning which they share with one another. Unless this profound union is embodied in some really ex-perienced way in common worship, common ways of living, common service of the Church, it is inevitable that it will float off into the realm of pure abstract theory, an ideal existing only as a dream. During a time of dramatic cultural change such as we are now experiencing, it is clear that there must be much experimentation with community structures, al-ways discerned according to the criterion of the re-newed basic vision of the community. Indeed, at present the indications are that much pluralism must be al-lowed. But especially during a time of pluralistic ex-periments, ways must be found to embody the total unity of the entire community sufficiently and frequently enough to keep it real. This is absolutely imposed upon us because we are body-persons, a fact too often forgotten with disastrous results. The fundamental problem posed by the necessity of embodying community unity through some form of structures is the continual need to carry on the dialectic of the individual good and the common good, personal initiative and aspirations and community ideals and commitments. The aim should be to effect a synthesis of these personal and community elements as often as possible through true mutual discernment. But when such a synthesis proves impossible, after this discern-ment, it is the universal good of the community which must be given priority in making decisions, precisely because the personal identity of each individual member is found in the community identity. In any community, even that of two persons in marriage, there is a new reality larger than each individual 'T': it is the reality of "we." The final word must always be given to this Because of the depth of their union grounded in common personal identity, the persons belonging to a religious community have a unique foundation for true, warm, human mutual love. This love must be experi-enced and embodied in aII the ways that go to establish and develop human interpersonal relationships and to confronting difficulties of temperament, disagreement, misunderstanding, and so forth. Since this union is the result of divinely given charisms, every effort must be made to share the basic faith experience of Jesus Christ which is the source of the communion of persons in this religious community. Because the individual experience itself is not verbal but lived, this sharing must be chiefly on the level of non-verbal communication. Here communitarian prayer can be very effective. Listening to another praying to God, even in language that I myself couhl not use, is a most effective way to come to the recognition that he shares the same faith experience of Jesus Christ, the same charism, the same response of life commitment, as do I. If the members of a religious community do share the basic faith experience of Jesus Christ which grounds their unity and their life together, then they will be enabled to grow in true human love for one another. Where there is profound union and an atmosphere of mutual love, it is possible to disagree (even violently) about means to ends without becoming polarized and, finally, disunited and destroyed as a community. Dif-ferences will be seen for what they are: differences of language and symbols which are conditioned by cultural contexts and, so, are completely relative, deriving their value only from their effectiveness in embodying the basic vision which remains the ground of union. Where deep union and mutual love are present, it will be recognized that persons in the community in responding to community-discerned adaptations are not to be condemned if they find it difficult to adjust to what for them is a new and foreign language to express their personal identity issuing from their personal faith experience of Jesus Christ. This is a matter of the dif-ficulty of changing ways of structuring and of expressing experience which have been built up over a lifetime, rather than a matter of a negative attitude to renewal and adaptation. The only attitude that one must change (whether he be "traditionally" or "progressively" oriented) is that 4. Religious Li~e VOLUME 28~ 1969 4" 4" ÷ John Carroll Futrell, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS o[ fixation: confusing language with experience and means with ends and insisting that unless things are done my way, they cannot be authentically Christian. This is equivalent to saying: "If you speak French in-stead of American English, you cannot be expressing truly human thoughts and feelings." Redemption from fixation--and from polarization--will be achieved through sharing the faith experience of Jesus Christ and only thereafter attempting to find a language to express this experience. These reflections have led to the conclusion that the religious has his personal identity through his response to a particular divine initiative, his acceptance of a special charism discerned in the characteristics of his personal faith experience of Jesus Christ. The religious embodies his response to this charism by vowing himself to the life of the evangelical counsels in a specific re-ligious community. This means that he commits him-self to witness visibly by the total signification of his overall pattern of life to the eschatological aspect of Christian love lived in the Church. Within the community of Christians, all of whom ~hare one Christian spirituality, the distinctive role of the religious is permanently to manifest the faith and hope of the entire People of God in Christ who is to COmae. The religious' life of union with his companions in his own religious community is a life of mutual love grounded in the community identity of shared faith experience of Christ, which is expressed in the basic vision of this community's service of Christ in His Church, and which is embodied in community struc-tures adapted to the signs of the times through authentic discernment. The way towards a solution of the difficult problems being experienced by religious today, therefore, would seem above all to be the way of a universal renewal in all religious of their profound, personal faith experi-ence of Jesus Christ and a renewal of their mutual union and mutual love through mutually sharing this experience. It is through union with Jesus Christ that we shall achieve communion with one another. EDWARD G. BOZZO, C.F.X. Being-toward- Community:. Essence oJ Religious Life As the over-delayed Instruction (dated Jan. 6, 1969) from the Congregation of Religious concedes, the forma-tion of young religious is a topic of deep concern today. Leaving to others the full assessment of that ,uneven document which, in my view, hovers indecisively between old and new theologies, between an essentially juridical conception of religious life and some attempt to touch its theological pith, what I would urge is that religious life is dominantly about community and that this must be sustained as the master idea in considering every phase of its renewal. Though this is a simplification un-less qualified as I hope to do further on in this article, it is at present the hermeneutical wedge needed to cut through the complexities renewal involves. If, I submit, in the light of the recent Instruction, religious congrega-tions attempt to grapple with formation as a problem apart from the religious life as centrally concerned with creating and maintaining community, their adaptations of formation programs will be misfocused or foundering. As is evident from my intentional use of first person references, I present a personal (though I hope not un-substantiated) point of view as forcefully as I can. In doing so I make no claim to infallibility but hope that in presenting a position as vigorously as possible that I might at the very least provide the reader with a means of clarifying his own notions of the religious life, even if it be by disagreeing with those presented here. Though my topic is the general import of the idea that religious life is essentially the sustained effort toward community, let me begin by briefly stating the connection between this thesis and the specific question of the forma-tion of young religious. And let me begin this brief Edward Bozzo, C.F.X., is a mem-ber of Xaverian College; I0000 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Springs, Md. 2090~1. VOLUME 28, 1969 + 4. Edward G. Bozzo, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS treatment from the juridical aspect of the religious life --a perhaps more familiar starting point to middle-aged religious--that irrelevant species of which I am a member. Two other prenotes: I write as a member of what is usually called an active religious congregation and I beg pardon of any sister who might read this for main-taining masculine references throughout. Men become religious, in the technical sense, by pro-nouncing vows to God through His visible Church. These vows are called public in a technical sense, namely, that the Church so designates and recognizes them as con-stituting a person in the religious state. To describe how these spare juridical facts occur in actual life, how-ever, it would have to be added that a person becomes a religious by joining a specific religious institute approved by the Church. This datum is [taught with significance. Among other things, it means that one's chief source of awareness of what being a religious means comes ~rom the particular religious with whom he lives. One's idea of what the practice of the vows means, of the style of life to which they give rise, one's idea of life in common and dedicated service to others--all of these one learns from the religious with whom one lives. (;anon law and the institute's constitutions, no matter how well expressed, capture these realities only partially and in bare out-line. I Both are theoretical instruments which subserve the experience of religious life which latter holds the primacy, not vice versa.2 Since one's self-definition as a religious, for one's whole life as a religious, has its source in the lives of the reli-gious with whom one lives, it follows that our life in 1 See Friedrich Wulf, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," in Commentary on the Documents o[ Vatican II, v. 2, ed. Herbert Vorgrimler (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), p. 303, where Wulf notes that it will take religious congrega-tions a long time to overcome the narrowness which has plagued the official ecclesiastical concept of the religious life, especially since the 19th century. See also pp. 338, 340, and 362. ~ In philosophical terms, though we always need theory, it is ex-perience, the practical, which holds the primacy. Theory derives from practice and serves practice. To reverse this order is to create a host of difficulties in daily life. See John Macmurray, The Sel[ as .4gent (London: Faber and Faber, 1957), pp. 17ft. As regards religious life, it is necessary to recall not only that theory derives from experience and helps to interpret experience, but also that the theoretical apparatus has been overjuridical in its emphasis. Hence, even though theory is subservient to experience, now as never before, religious life requires work on its theoretical base. As Wulf remarks in commenting on chapters five and six of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: "The theology of the reli-gious state is only in the making," Commentary on the Documents o] Vatican //, v. 1, ed. Herbert Vorgrimler (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), p. 278. See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. $43: "Religious life today, that of active orders in particular, is becoming less and less amenable to detailed regulation." common is and ever remains the formative influence in our lives. Religious life does not escape the law of our lives as persons: we need one another to be ourselves,s Indeed, religious life aims to express this with a force un-paralleled by other styles of life.4 Whether or not they really believe it, at least many religious are now saying that religious formation never ends. The principal reason why it does not is that we ever depend on our fellow religious for discovering the implications of our lives as persons dedicated to God.5 The practical consequence of these facts for our con-gregations is that each one of us, whether he acknowl-edges the fact or prefers to dwell in illusion, plays a form-ative role. He cannot shirk this fact, nor the obligation arising from it by pretending that it is the novice master's job or the task of a group or team more particularly associated with young religious. For all of us formation is continual so long as we lead lives of mutual interde-pendence-- a phrase which describes our very condition as persons, and therefore our lives as religious as well. Under either head, life in common is essential. From the point of view of formation, personal and religious, our lives of mutual interdependence constitute our chief source of strength and progress, as well as the source of our obligation to live for our fellows. It scarcely needs mentioning that this mode of dis-course is currently employed to talk of Christian life in general and that there is nothing particularly distinctive about it so as to mark off religious as a spedal class,o That 8 See John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (London: Faber and Faber, 1961), p. 211. ' "The theological and spiritual new mentality which the council introduced into the religious orders has forced us to pose anew the question about the structures of religious life. To begin with we must mention the fundamental law which was present at the founding of every religious order, and which has moved into the forefront of Christian thought today in a specially urgent manner: the law of brotherliness" (Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 330). ~ Obviously this does not preclude a religious learning from those not members of the religious fraternity. See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 339: "Common prayer, spiritual conversation among brethren and sisters--things which in fact make them brethren and sisters-- alone cause all of their efforts to bear fruit. The place where spiritual renewal happens is in the small group. The more a com-munity fosters these small groups, the greater the hope that the work of the general chapter will go beyond mere words and regula-tions, and reach out into real life." e Commenting on Chapter 5 of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Wulf, in Vorgrimler, v. 1, pp, 267-8, writes: "We are all set a single goal, one and the same Christian holiness (the degree of which., can and does vary according, to the vocation and the measure of grace allotted to each man). Ultimately, there-fore, there is only one kind of Christian life, and its nature is briefly sketched for us here: (1) The inward road that leads a Christian to his salvation (and often the outward road as well) + + .I-Being- toward. Community VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ Edward G. Bozzo, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should not be surprising, since the religious life is not .a. privileged class existence, but the Christian life lived with utter seriousness. It has been the custom to define religious life in terms of Christian life. Hence, when individualistic notions of Christian life prevailed, reli-gious life--Christian calling lived intensely--was defined in individualistic patterns. When the dominant con-ception of Christian life was saving one's soul, the concomitant conception of religious life was a perfec-tion that made little of the social dimension of personal and Christian progress.7 Thanks to a host of long germinating movements in the field of theology itself (Biblical studies, for example) and in the world of thought more generally (most signifi-cantly in philosophy), individualism is seen now as an unrealistic way of conceptualizing personal existence,s As persons we do not possess any fullness of ourselves alone. We do not store up richness of interiority on our own and then issue forth to bestow our largesse upon others if and when we feel magnanimous enough to do depends at the deepest level on the guidance of the Holy Ghost and the promptings of his grace. (2) At every turn, therefore, in every situation he encounters, the Christiau must listen for the voice of the Spirit making known God's will for him., and obey it. This obedience is what the gospel calls adoring the Father in spirit and in truth (cf. Jn 4:23), and it means utter openness to God and utter docility to him. (3) Within the framework of the Christian dis-pensation taking this road means following the poor and humble Christ as he carries the Cross. (4) On this road the main business of the Christian is a living faith that stirs up hope and acts through love. At a time when every state of life and every community in the Church is trying to expound its own particular spirituality (and often ineptly), it is well for this Constitution to remind us of the one fundamental Christian spirituality of Scripture and tradition." Further: "What they all have in common is this: that Christian sanctification is not a road running parallel to the road of one's ordiuary life and work, but is a thing achieved in and through one's state of life with its daily tasks, in and through the concrete circumstances and events of one's existence." ~See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 347, n. 11 especially. As Rahner writes: "This sense of being responsible for my brother, not only for his earthly needs but precisely for his eternal salvation, may be nothing short of decisive for my own eternal salvation. This is not sublime egoism. The realization that unless one loves selflessly one is risking one's own salvatiou does not imply some higher form of egoism. It is the scale by which I can measure how absolutely necessary is concern for my brother's salvation. The possibility that he has of working out his salvation without me means that he owes me nothing. But I can find myself only if I find my brother. The whole of life has got to be a forward movement towards loving my brother. I must love my brother, and in that love forget myself. If I do that, I am an apostle. If I do not do it, I am ultimately lost" (Karl Rahner, Christian in the Market Place [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966], pp. 13-4). ~ See William F. Lynch, Images o] Hope (New York: New Ameri-can Library, 1966), p. 185. so.0 Hard as it may be for men, especially Americans, to swallow it, no one in his existence as a person exists in-dependently of other persons.10 The terminus a quo of personal life is a complete dependence on a personal other and the terminus acl quem is not rugged individ-ualism but interdependence with others.11 Personal exis-tence is and ever remains conditional upon mutuality with other persons. Failure to live according to this basic norm of our being is, in William F. Lynch's view, one of the root causes of mental illness. In religious terms it is Pelagianism. As Biblical studies have made apparent with ever increasing emphasis and as the recent conciliar documents attest, God calls us as He did Israel, as a people; He saves us as a people; .we worship Him as a people. In short, Christianity is fraternal faith, demon-strated in fraternal concern for others, Christians or not, for Christian faith is a progressive assimilation to the Father's only Son who is universal in His concern--in His life, His death and His eternal priestly intercession in behalf of all men.12 In yielding to the Spirit, in allowing Him to consume our selfishness, we are made Jesus all over againJ~ In him all walls of separation from our fel-lows crumble (see Gal 2:llff). With the growing appreciation that Christian life is a OAs Kwant writes: "We are intentional beings and not centered on ourselves. We achieve a meaningful existence through the reali-zation of values. The situation is not such that we find first in ourselves, in our so-called interiority, the fullness of meaning and value and that, next, our giving of meaning in the world and in encounters with other human beings are an effusion of our interior fullness. Divorced from the world and from the others, there is only emptiness in ourselves" (Remy Kwant, Phenomenology o] Social Existence [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], p. 239). ~°See Lynch, lmages, pp. 19-20 and 31. n See John Macmurray, Persons in Relation, p. 66. = "The first characteristic of faith today I should like to stress can be summed up in one word: brotherly . Faith both presup-poses the community and creates it; the courage to believe is always born of a pentecostal event, where many are gathered together in unity of purpose. Faith is our confidence in the personal experience of others, a conviction gained through the power of the Spirit which is at work in others, our personal experience of the Spirit given to us for the sake of others, This permanent characteristic of faith., should be one of the most notable characteristics of the form of faith today. It cannot be sufficiently stressed, however, that this brotherly love is not directed towards an abstract but toward our actual brother here and now, our 'neighbor' " (Karl Rahner, Belie] Today [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967], pp. 54-5). as See Barnabas Ahern, New Horizons (Notre Dame: Fides Dome Book, 1965), p. 94 and passim; Piet Fransen, "Towards a Psychology of Divine Grace," Cross Currents, v. 8 (1958), p. 219; Franqois ¯ Roustang, Growth in the Spirit (New York: Sheed ~ Ward, 1966), p. 21; and Amed~e Hallier, "God is Friendship: the Key to Aelred of Rievaulx's Christian Humanism," American Benedictine Reoiew, v. 18 (1967), p. 403. 4- 4. 4- Being-toward- Community VOLUME 28, 1969 723 ÷ + Edward G. Bozzo, C.F~X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS call to brotherly faith, brotherly existence and care, there is a concommitant realization that religious life as the radical living of Christian life is predominantly brotherly existence. Insofar as religious life manifests this, its fundamental nature, it renders its primary serv-ice to both Church and world. This conception of the nature and function of religious life holds implications of highly practical import. The following paragraphs aim to explore some of them by attending primarily to the intramural living of religious life. As stated previously in touching on "formation," all religious must appreciate that each of them is involved in striving toward community. Recognizing this, one practical suggestion that has been proffered with increas-ing insistence is that religious cannot attain this by living in large groups in Mussolini-modern buildings.14 With-out disputing this recommendation, I submit that the import of religious life as fraternal existence in Christ lies deeper than the intimacy to be attained by living in smaller groups in cosier houses. Keeping the communal nature of reigious life to the fore means realizing that no religious can achieve "his perfection," his union with Christ, by an idealistic leap up to God which would ignore his concrete relations to his fellow religious. Each of us approaches God only by living for his particular brethren at hand, centering his interest in them and not in himself. To live this is to live in Christ; more specifi-cally, it is to live Christ's kenosis. Capsulizing St. Paul's view of Christian life again, one may see it as a progres-sive yielding to the Holy Spirit who transforms us into the image of the Father's only Son. And this Son is one who lives His whole existence towards the Father through a self-forgetful concern for all men. In sum, the Christ in whom we live, move, and are, the Christ into whom we are transformed through the Holy Spirit's action in us, is a self-emptying Christ, not a self-regarding Person.1'~ Selfishness in this perspective is not just per-sonal immaturity, it is--far more significantly--a resis-tance to grace, a refusal to let the Spirit take over in us so that the Christs we are meant to be cannot take form in our lives. The poverty, chastity, and obedience of the religious find their deepest meaning in this kenotic yielding to the 1~ In commenting on Vatican II's decree on religious, for example, Wulf (in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 330) writes: 'The responsible and effec-tive participation in the common good and in the common task in the spirit of brotherhood can no longer be realized in large communities, for by his psychical constitution, modern man feels lost and threatened in the mass, so that the ideals just mentioned can only be realized in communities of manageable size." 1~ See Piet Schoonenberg, "He Emptied Himself, Philippians 2, 7," in Who Is Jesus oI Nazareth? (New York: Paulist, 1965), pp. 47-66. Spirit, manifested inour heterocentricity toward others. These two cannot be separated, for a relationship to Christ, or to God in Christ, which is not a relationship to one's brothers, is no Christianity at all. The more earnestly a religious strives to live the Christian life, that is, to live as man sanctified by God, the more he becomes aware of his own poverty his impotence, weakness, and guilt and the more he realizes the totality of the de-pendence in which he lives from God and unto God-- the essence of what he professes in the vow of poverty. The more a religious strives to live as the force of God's agape in him would have him live, that is, the more uni-versal his love toward others becomes both in its scope and quality the more his chastity comes to expression. For then he loves as God loves, caring for others hon-estly, 16 with no eye to using them for his advantage but with a creative love that aims to set others free of the myriad forms of slavery which keep them from the liberty to which they are called. This honesty in love-- loving others as the Father loves, with no eye to private gain is the essence of religious chastity. The more the religious yields to God's beckonings to him, the more he follows the particularities of God's petitioning of him through others---even to the point of yielding his life for them, the more the relig!ous lives obedience to the Father. The depth of asceticism that is required to live this style of Christian existence, the depth of personal prayer required to maintain and nourish this kenotic orienta-tion needs no commentary. It involves many dyings be-fore death, surrendering the comfortable illusion that each of us is a special case, that life and other people should make exceptions in our regard. It means living Christ's life of service and in so doing becoming a vehicle through which the glory of the risen Christ is manifested. As Ratzinger writes: "A true parousia of Christ takes place wherever a man recognizes and affirms the claim on his love that goes out from a fellow man in need." lz Much more could and should be ex- 1BChastity is emotional sincerity. See John Macmurray, "The Virtue of Chastity," in Reason and Emotion (London: Faber and Faber, 1962), pp. l17ff. x7 Joseph Ratzinger, The Open Circle: The Meaning o] Christian Brotherhood (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p. 119. The glory of the Father is the brotherhood of all men in his Son Jesus Christ. Our life as a community and as individuals, serving one another and others, must make the name of the Father known, manifest His glory by seeking the brotherhood of all men in Christ Jesus. But the source of this, it cannot be sufficiently emphasized, is God's love for us---this is what makes us persons fundamentally. What we have to give is God's love (see the Epistle to the Philippians). At this profound level the operative law is: All receptivity is produc-tivity, as SOren Kierkegaard notes in SOren Kierkegaard's Journals + + + Being.toward- Commu~nity VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ 4. ÷ Edward G. Bo~o, C.F~X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS plored regarding the linkage between religious life and kenotic Christology as this constitutes a promising vein for elaborating a theology of the religious life. However, the few hints offered will have to suffice for the moment, so as to attend to other implications of conceiving reli-gious life as a process of being toward community. One of these is that religious life as brotherly existence does not mean that the uniqueness of each religious is abolished. Quite the contrary. As Teilhard de Chardin was fond of phrasing it, true union differentiates,is That is, when we put into act by living communion with others the mutuality which makes us persons, each of us comes to himself. Each attains, at least in some measure, his freedom. The fundamental reason for this is that in friendship, fellowship, fear is eliminated or overcome by love. None of the parties in the fellowship has to pretend, act a part, be on his guard. For this to become a fact in a religious community all must share the intention to live as brothers. All must overcome fear of each other with trust. For fear paralyzes and separates us. Since fear is always fear for oneself in the face of others, it closes us in on ourselves, drives us away from exercising our constitutively mutual relationship to them. Fearful of others, I might seek for God, for free-dom, or more simply, for some sense of contentment not in my relations to others but solely in the life of the mind and imagination--solely in a private spirituality. Others might deal with their fear of their fellow by dominating them, using them as means to their purpose-- even if that purpose be "spiritual" it demeans the persons so manipulated. For fellowship, community, to become an actuality each must be positively motivated toward all his brothers. Consequently it cannot happen if a religious seeks friend-ship with only one or two other members alone, and when each of the parties in this relationship or clique is negatively motived toward all the other members. The trust of each member of the community, his faith in them, must extend toward all of them. Only so can true brotherhood become fact. To the extent that it does, each member can, for example, express his ideas without fear that what he says will be used against him. By the very nature of brotherhood, variety issues naturally-- from the assurance of feeling at home in one's reli-gious family. One does not have to strive after artifical techniques to assert his individuality. He is accepted and and Papers, v. 1, ed. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Indiana University, 1967), p. 395. ~See Robert L. Faricy, Teilhard de Chardin's Theology o[ the Christian in the World (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967), pp. does not need to contrive test cases to discover if he is or not. More significantly, in the context of realized brother-hood ideas do not divide us. I know that even if you do not agree with my position on this or that issue that you will not cut me off--excommunicate me from your con-cern. And you have the same assurance from me. When each member of the community feels secure in this confidence our differences, whether in the realm of ideas or otherwise, are a potential source of enrichment for all of us. We are free to work out fruitful constructive forms of compromise to further corporate action. Every dif-ference between us does not become a wall of separation dividing brother from brother, camp from camp. Such division is our damnation. The future is in our hands only so long as we live as brothers. We cannot achieve any good as a congregation, or as a small community within it, if we do not share the same intention in our apostolic action. Just as we are mutually interdependent as persons, we are inter-dependent as agents. If as agents our intentions do not harmonize, the action of each of .us is frustrated. The future then becomes something that happens to us, some-thing which we await, rather than a reality which we as agents are empowered to determine and can determine when our intentions harmonize and agree with God's intention--that we as religious be one and through our work (directly or indirectly) work for the realization of brotherhood among all men. In this light religious life can be appreciated as the concrete expression of what the Church is. It is the fra-ternity of God's people, His family which lives a broth-erly existence under Him and by so living is the instru-ment for expressing and extending brotherhood among all mankind. The creative energy for realizing this broth-erhood is the agape of the Father Himself operating through the common humanity which each of us shares with every other person.10 The task of the Church today is what it always has been--to cooperate with God under the guidance of the Spirit of Christ in establishing the kingdom of God. The means for establishing this king-dom, for accomplishing this task is the means that Jesus taught His first Disdples. The Church must be a real community on earth which exhibits to the world, in its life and in the relations of its members, the image of the kingdom of heaven, and which acts, in relation to the world outside, in the brotherly spirit of that king-dom. Never has the Church needed religious life to mani-fest this, its nature at its truest, as now. And never have 4. 4. Being-toward- Community 1, See Yves Congar, .4 Gospel Priesthood (New York: Herder aVnOdLUME 28, 1969 Herder, 1967), p. 5, on the Father's love as the source of all mission. 727 men so expressly proclaimed in myriad ways, their thirst for brotherhood. If religious life would only come to itself it could spearhead the realization of brotherhood--- the consummation of personal existence now so devoutly wished. It depends on so little and so big a condition as this: that each of us in his religious family treat each of the others as a friend. 4. 4- 4- Edward G. Bo~,o, REVIEW FOR RELIGIous 728 HRBAN NAAL, S.M. The Community of Today Walls are built either to keep people in or to keep people out. Whether these walls are built of stone, brick, or concrete or whether they are built of weaker material, the object is to keep someone or something in or to keep someone or something out, physically. There are also pyschological walls built for the same purpose, though not always built intentionally. In the Middle Ages cities had walls. Most of these walls are in ruins today or have disappeared as the cities expanded beyond them. In fact, expansion could take place only when the people went beyond the walls. It seemed that as man neared modern times the walls crumbled, "freeing" the community to expand in all directions. It would seem that one could almost say that the walls had to come down if expansion were to take place, for the walls that kept out also kept in. Any com-munity that held rigidly to its walls would of necessity suffocate. Growth took place as the walls came down aIIowing for greater activity, travel, business, communica-tion, work, education. Modern communities no longer have walls. They are neither needed nor desired. Yet, there seems to exist today in the modem world communities whose walls have remained intact since the Middle Ages and who seem rigidly to resist any attempt to break down those walls, whether physical or psycho-logical. The citizens seem determined to hold onto those walls, nor can they visualize that real progress can take place only if they break down these separating walls, walls that are keeping them in and keeping others out. The communities referred to are religious communities and the walls that they will not demolish are not those made of stone, brick, concrete, or even weaker materials but those psychological walls existing in their interpre-tation of what a community is and must remain. Com-munity for these religious is a "living" together and by 4- 4- 4- Brother Urban Naal, S.M., teaches at Vianney High School; 1311 South Kirkwood Road; St. Louis, Mo. 63122, VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 Urban Naal, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS this they mean a living together in one place at one time by all the members assigned to a particular community or house. What is actually stressed is the physical sharing of one house though they do not seem to realize this. As the modern community cannot be limited by walls that suffocate, so the modern religious community must be ~eed from the walls that bind it. This can only be done through a reinterpretation of what a religious commu-nity is and a realization that a modern community must be a psychological sharing and not a physical sharing alone. To constantly insist upon a physical sharing, a doing everything together, to keep repairing walls that need to crumble, succeeds eventually in suffocating the very members who have retained the walls. Growth can-not take place until the walls are removed. The modern religious community must be bound to-gether by a spirit and not by the physical presence of the walls of a house. The witness o[ such a community must consist in a harmonious interest in the diverse works of each of the members and not in the force shown by a group of people living together under one roof. The community witness must be a living together of diverse ideas and cultures and values. The individual religious, bound by public vows of religion, must be free to leave the walls of the commu-nity for greater activity, travel, business, communica-tion, work, education, and the needs of society at large. He is living in the modern world, not the Middle Ages. He must be trained to think as an individual and not as a group. This is not to say that there are no dangers in taking protective walls down, especially for those who first cautiously venture forth. (Nor is it to try to claim that walls of themselves preclude all danger.) There is danger for the young who need walls to inclose them until they are old enough to venture forth on their own. There is danger for the member of the community who has never been given the chance to go it alone and Who psycho-logically needs walls to shield him. There is danger for the immature in the community who do not have the strength nor security to leave the womb. There. is danger, too, once the walls are down that undersirable persons or ideas might creep in. Yet, to grow in the modern world the member of the community must learn to live with these dangers, to grow because of them. No one can avoid all danger. In fact, it is through these dangers that growth takes place. In learning to deal with danger man matures. It is a fallacy to feel that walls make it possible to create an artificial situation in which all members by a certain age or a certain stage of life become model religious, fitting perfectly into some kind of foreseen mold. Nor can this denial of the individuality of man be called Christian, no matter how much it appears to be the basis of the religious community. The members of a religious community must be trained to use the God-given talents they possess and to grow as individuals according as God made them. Guidelines are not outlawed, but charity must consist in accepting each member for .what he is and for how God made him rather than to how closeIy he matches someone's personal rule of perfection. If the religious community prepared thinking individ-uals using the brains God gave them to use, there would be no need of wails for physically mature persons, no reason to fear the wails coming down. The community of living together under one roof tends to stifle initia-tive and creativity. It forces the members to aim at a common--and often lowest--denominator, regulating the lives of the members according to some precon-ceived general norm resulting in the members actually dedicating themselves to mediocrity rather than to the highest potential of which they are capable. It does not permit each person to grow at his own rate nor to be-lieve according to what he is able to "see" at present. The religious community in the twentieth century must be an outgrowth of the Middle Ages. It must progress with the times and be as efficient as the dines permit. The religious, to be true religious and apostles, must go out beyond the wails to where they are needed, to where the action is. Artificial action and needs cannot be set up within the walls or close-by. The modern religious must carry his community in spirit wherever he goes, wherever he is needed. He must be trained and trusted to carry this community with him, rather than be crippled by forever being tied to a particular house often far from the needs of the world. He must often go alone into the field (be it education, communication, business) to bear witness and to work, even though it be far from an established community of his order. He might even become the center of a new-type of "community" of those working around him. This does not mean that there is no need for the com-munity in the traditional sense of the word. It definitely has a place. It is the walled city or quiet womb in which the religious needs to reside while being formed. It is the "dock" to which the weary working religious needs to return periodically for nourishment and light and the moral support of his fellow religious which is so important to one working alone in the field of battle. The individual religious could not continue to work + + ommunity VOLUME 28, 1969 without these periodic retreats to that haven from whence he came. There is need, too, of the traditional community for those who do not feel that they can or want to leave it. Yet, the modern religious, a religious in the true sense, must be free to go beyond the walls that presently hem him in and thwart his apostolate. To force community members to live closely together under the same roof under the guise that the four walls constitute a commu-nity is to miss the point completely and to miss the modern apostolate completely. The real community is a spiritual thing, a love of and an acceptance of one's fellow religious wherever they are. It is not confined to those living within the four walls of a particular com-munity. Nor is it created by the mere presence of four walls. The normal family with grown members no longer reside within the same four walls; and yet no matter how far they are scattered they exhibit an in-tense loyalty to the members of the family from which they came because of their love and acceptance of one another, not because they happened to at one time reside within the same four walls (which have now crumbled). The modern religious community if it is to succeed must go beyond the walls that they have erected less they awake one day to find that life has pass them by. Let not today's religious communities be the ghost towns of tomorrow. ÷ ÷ ÷ Urban Nail, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GEORGE C. McCAULEY, S.J. The Toll and Why We Pay h: A Theological Image of Religious Life Religious are always surprised and annoyed by the basic ignorance, even in the Catholic community, of the distinction between priesthood and the religious life, between orders and vows. In the new Church people ask brothers, nuns, and religious priests: "Are they going to allow you to marry?" It becomes easier to live with such ignorance when finally we discover that it is based on a lack of any real interest. But today the question: "What is a religious?" is being posed earnestly and painfully not by others but by many religious themselves. Prophets of doom count the days for religious orders and congregations, and they offer statistics in support of their baleful prognoses. With many religious leaving and fewer entering the re-ligious life, religious are anxious for a self-understanding that will help them navigate through some of the con-temporary uncertainty. A perfectly satisfying self-under-standing is rarely forthcoming in life. We are more in need of a creative and humanly intelligible hypothesis against which we can test our Christian and religious experience. It is the task of theology to set forth such an hypothesis. To that end we will attempt first to describe more thoroughly the religious' contemporary plight, and then to isolate the human (therefore intelligible) form of the religious' commitment, its various motivations, and the content of that commitment or the directions in which the religious life has always and will always take those who embrace that life. The Toll The religious gradually becomes an out~ider to the cultural milieu in which he lives. True, it is hard to iso-÷ ÷ i÷ George C. Mc- Cauley, S.J., is a member of the the-ology faculty of St. Peter's College in Jersey City, New Jersey 07306. VOEUME 28, 1969 4- 4- 4- George C. McCauley, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 734 late a cultural milieu which affects all people in exactly the same way. It is also possible that many religious are more in touch than many non-religious with what-ever cultural milieu is available. We will develop the thesis, however, that the more in touch the religious is, the greater the toll will be that he will pay. If we ac-cept as a working definition of cultural milieu as the main network of achievements, activities, and values that emerge from the physical and spiritual resources of men, then it is clear that the religious gradually becomes unstuck from this network. The reason for this is that most men are usually attached to this network at various points, while the religious fits the cultural pattern only sketchily. The cultural pattern involves at least the triad of job, marriage, and family. The economic, political, and recreational systems of men are geared to and de-pendent .upon man's wishes in those three areas. The communications media feed, and feed upon, the needs that are contained in those three aspects of life. Assiduous-ness, success, planning, ingenuity, failure, social useful-ness, ambition, acceptability, and normality are in a thousand subtle ways measured against the standard inherent in the triad of job, marriage, and family. The religious recedes from this standard, and this gradual recession takes its toll on his'cultural sensibilities. His routine activities have little to do with the cultural standard: his clothing is both singular and culturally meaningless. His language is dissonant: fun, life, enter-tainment, pleasure, anxiety, responsibility, relaxation-- these words have a different ring for him than for other men. His normal working hours are accompanied by different expectations, and hence he misses the rhythms which usually mark the beginning and end of a man's work. He is disassociated from the immense cultural ritual of finding and keeping a mate. His energies are not spent on the intricate process of nesting, of providing and securing goods for a family. He does not shop, keep financial records, save, angle, sweat, or celebrate with the same sentiments or relish that other men have. The point of all this is not simply that the religious does not do what most men do. It is rather to suggest that he gradually foregoes sensibility in these areas. Sen-sibility is itself a difficult term to define. The religious need not become insensitive to the cultural life around him. He knows that men around him are engaged might-ily in their own routines, and he senses these routines in others. But he notes their absence in himself. He can-not perceive them within his whole emotional, self-aware-ness apparatus. The toll that he pays is this sense of void in himself in comparison with the cultural mass which surrounds him and which, by its sheer weight, seems to pressure him to be like it. This realization should not lead the religious to exag-gerate his predicament. Every vocation has its toll and everyone could recount the frustrations and limitations implied in his life choices. What is important is that the religious understand the scope and dimensions of the toll that he will in all likelihood pay. He must situate himself as honestly as possible in terms of his actual cultural coordinates which in his case are not normal ones. Then he must ask himself if he understands why he takes, in faith, such a peculiar stance vis-a-vis his culture. Not that he should so call his faith into question that it ceases to exist. This unimaginative and simplistic solution removes the problem by denying its existence and we can only get so far in life with this gambit. On the other hand religious communities must have a con-sensus of self-understanding against which they can judge themselves and the times. The stresses and strains of living as marginal men in a vast cultural network tend to prove too much for everyone's individual nerves. Only a community's conviction, its faith elaborated in intelli-gible and affirmative terms, can sustain the religious life today. The religious is not helped by being told his life is more than human. He suspects mightily that what people mean by this comes down in the long run to being less than human. Hence he asks for an understanding of his vows in terms of their true humanity. Reasons and an Image The religious is pressed to say why he does what he does. Up to a point he can answer that Christ's example is what motivates him. But the limitations of this ex-planation of the religious life are apparent. For one thing, we are not Christ. For another, the Scriptural references to "imitating Christ" (1 Th 1:6; 1 Cot 4:16) apply to all Christians, not to one class or group of Christians. The same is true of the Scriptural ref-erences to "following Christ" (Mt 8:22; 19:21; 12:26; 19:28; Mk 9:38; Jn 8:12). Again, the picture of the way Christ actually lived is difficult to disengage from the sev-eral layers of testimony about Him which we have in the Gospels. In other words, we do not have any ready-made picture of what His poverty, chastity, and obedience looked like, and this makes our claim as religious to be imitating Him more difficult. The Son of Man did not have a place to lay His head, but He had a devoted fol-lowing of women and it is hard to see how anyone in those circumstances would have to do without material necessities. He was obedient to the Father, but was such .I-÷ 4- TI~ Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, REV]EW FOR REL[GIOUS obedience more difficult than obedience shown to men and women who do not have all the Father's advantages? He was celibate in a culture that did not set as much store as we do today on mutual love between man and woman, on personal sexual attraction and its flowering in family life. We will return to the question of the reli-gious' relationship with Christ in a moment. The point here is that expressions like "imitating" Christ which recur in our traditional formulations of the religious life are not by that simple fact illuminating when we come to examine what the religious life is. We are there-fore forced to take a closer look at the religious life as a form of human activity. One advantage to this ap-proach is that the religious might get a clearer, more identifiable picture of what he is doing, even apart from the question of why he is doing it. What image, then, will help us understand what the religious is doing? We will suggest as a basic charac-terization of that life its daring nature. By this is meant more than that the religious is exposed to the toll men-tioned earlier and hence that he risks not surviving his being distanced from the cultural milieu. Not surviving is a risk, to be sure, but a risk is not a dare. The latter has a more positive connotation and requires a more ex-tended analysis. When we speak of a daring feat or of a daring way of life, the emphasis is less on the possibility of failure as it is on the uniqueness of accomplishment involved. The accomplishment takes place in the face of obstacles and danger, but these aspects are subordinate to the inner content of the accomplishment itself. Examples of daring are varied. There are daring feats of exploration, .of physical prowess or menta! endurance, of both of these latter in varying combinations. We even speak of daring crimes. Daring stems from a certain persistent determina-tion to do something which (though not necessarily be-cause) other people do not do. This determination settles on what is uncustomary.The darer fixes on strange goals and pursues them with a single-minded intensity. He is oblivious to commentary, favorable or not, on his ac-tions. It is not a question of toughness nor of unconven-tionality. The darer may be outwardly the mildest and most unprepossessing person in the world. But he is capable of totally concentrating on the steps which sepa-rately and together form his achievement. We cannot deny that his dare resembles an obsession. He is also sub-ject to the usual urge to limit and falsify the demands of his dare, to exaggerate his readiness, qualifications, and technique for daring properly. But these he corrects in order to be true to the dare. The point here is not to ask why he dares, but to ob- serve the act of daring in itself, its rigid demands, its engrossing personal fascination for the darer, and its indifference to other ways of acting. This indifference is important. The mountain climber, for example, can be questioned endlessly as to why he does what he does. He is in effect being asked to justify his daring which often seems to be either sheer folly or disdain for life in the valley. Mallory's well-known explanation of why he assaulted Everest ("Because it is there") is, however, less a comment on Everest, which is there for everyone, than a revelation about Mallory who was different precisely in his d~ring. In his case, as with all daring, we are forced to admit that, to some extent, daring is its own justifica-tion. No amount of scepticism, no amount of bewilder-ment on the part of those who do not dare, can detract from the darer's achievement. The test of the human validity of a dare is the admiration that it inspires in the observer. And in terms of a traditional humanism, the burden of the proof is on the non-darer to show that daring is unjustified. In all this, we cannot facilely iden-tify daring with "doing your own thing," since there is an aspect of human achievement and of human approval to the dare that is often lacking where some attempt to glorify "their own thing." If we apply the image of an act of daring to the con-duct of religious, we get some idea of what the religious life as a form of observable human conduct is. It is a form of daring whose justification, in part at least, is to be sought no further than in its own intrinsic impera-tive as daring. We must practice the same discipline in examining the religious life as we did with the act of daring itself, by postponing questions of motive and of content in order to see the human form of the religious life as such. Hence we may not assume as a general prin-ciple that Christ "calls" to the religious life individuals who are neutrally qualified, that is, ready to lead that life or some other life, with the only difference in the subsequent choice beifig a difference in the degree of love that they can summon up for Christ. Such a view makes the choice of the religious life almost com-pletely a matter of an adult decision to move from a neutral plane to one of greater (more altruistic) love. But is it not more likely that Christ calls individ-uals to this life because they are daring types, that is, because they have, before any adult decision related to Christ, something in themselves which is capable of and which demands living a dare? The rich young man in the Gospels was sad that Christ invited him to a life of poverty and of dedication. This narrative has sometimes led to the impression that a call from Christ brings a person who supposedly stands in neutral balance before various ~÷ ÷ ÷ Tlw Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 George C. McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR REL~6~OUS possible life options to choose a "lfigher" state into which he then fits his talents. But such a view of Christ's calling may not credit Christ with sufficient politeness. The call of Christ is perhaps better adapted to our in-dividual capacities than we expect. The rich young man's sadness is not only to be attributed to the fact that, in following Christ, he will have to do without his riches, but also to the fact that he is the kind of person who should dare to do without riches if he is to respond to the imperatives of his own deepest person which Christ sees more clearly than he does. How then do such terms as "greater love," "closer following of Christ," or "higher state" apply to the re-ligious life? If, as we will suggest later on, the religious' dare also turns out to be of immense service to the Church and to the world, how is the religious to relate his own imperative as a darer, this personal and quite human as-pect of his calling, to the service of others? What we are really asking is how Christ looks upon the individual religious: as someone who should consciously concentrate on the service and love of Christ and of others beyond the measure of what is normally asked? or as someone who should be candidly aware of his own personal imperative to dare, to enjoy the situation of being a darer regardless of how much service or love is connected with it? Is Christ the kind of person who would "use" the darer for the service of the Church? Or is Christ calling the darer to a conscious love and service of Himself and of the Church only in order to reveal to the darer his own true self? If Christ's concern in calling the individual religious is primarily to a!low that religious a large meas-ure of fidelity to what is most personal and quite human in himself--to his capacity to dare--what sense is there in describing the religious life as a call to greater or higher love? The religious life is indeed centered on Christ; and, through this centering, it has a more uni-versal scope and influence. And all this, too, is thoroughly human, even if our cultural norms do not recognize this humanity. But we should not call such a commitment "greater" or "higher" if what we really mean by those words is a commitment that is more universal in scope. Perhaps the better way to describe the religious' relation-ship to Christ is to speak of Christ initially as someone who calls us to love Him and others, then as someone who shows us the way in which we love ourselves, and finally as someone with whom we are ourselves in the daring service of others. There are several corollary observations to be made on our use of the image of daring to help us understand the religious' commitment. First of all, it seems that this image is less suited to women religious then to men, simply because men more than women have been asso-ciated with those activities from which we sought an un-derstanding of the structure of daring. It is risky to sug-gest what daring consists of for the gentler sex; yet, if a parallel image is to be sought, it is to be sought in a con-text of exceptional actions which of themselves call forth human esteem and which also call for unusual deter-mination, singleness of purpose, no apologies, and a deep sense of a specific pull in one direction. Childbearing and putting up with male pretensions are daring enough, but are they not also too universal to illustrate a womanly dare? The will to make sense out of life, and to live its rhythms in one's actual circumstances, char-acterizes every basic vocational choice. It is only where the choice seems to depart from the usual without be-coming bizarre that we are dealing with a dare. Hence women religious must seek the image of their daring in some other more appropriate phenomenon. The only one that suggests itself at the moment is the image of the woman of abandon who sets no store on propriety, scorns convention, and foregoes a good name in the pur-suit of love. Despite its obvious limitations this image conveys many of the qualities that we associate with dar-ing. The second observation concerns "leaving" the life of vows. There are overanxious minds who rule out a priori the continued desirability of a permanent style of religi-ous life. Yet, it is somewhat tyrannical to say that no one should live his religious dare to the end of his days. It overlooks the fact that some people do live it, and live it well for a lifetime, shifting emphases and priorities as the circumstances of the Church require, deepening the main lines of their dare, personally enriched and a source of joy for all around them. But in assessing the permanency of the religious life we have to keep in mind that, where we are dealing with something resembling a dare, we are going to have to keep a respectful distance from another person's commitment. The reason is that we simply do not know who is called to dare and for how long. The Church has always recognized this and has granted dispensations from "permanent," "final" vows, however "solemn" they might have been. We have pre-served, if grudgingly at times, the insight that Christ is not as fanatical as we sometimes wish to be in insuring lifetime commitments. No less a master of spiritual in-sight than Ignatius of Loyola indicated in his spiritual Exercises that there is always room for the subsequent discovery that one's life choices have not added up to a "divine vocation." His sixteenth century advice to a per-son making such a discovery was that they make the best of the situation. In parochial Europe at that time making ÷ 4- ÷ Th~ Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the best of the situation often excluded, [or purely social reasons, departing from one's chosen state. There is less pressure on the religious today to continue in a vocation that no longer appears to be divine, that is, that no longer amounts to a growth in charity (beginning at home) for the individual or for those he encounters. We all must wait on the individual to tell us as the fruit of his most interior discovery whether or not in fact he wishes to continue his dare. If he does not, that is, by the unique nature of his daring situation, his business and not ours. It might even not be a bad idea for the Con-gregation of Religious, when issuing papers that release from the vows, to add a word of thanks for the service, short or long, that an individual has given to the Church in the course of daring commitment to Christ. A third observation brings us back to the question of the religious' motivation in choosing to make the dare that his life is. We suggested that his motivation is pri-marily a response to Christ in which the religious may not be aware that Christ's invitation suits his own make-up as a darer. This prior suitability in no way offends against the gratuity of Christ's invitation. It simply gives Christ more credit for exercising his gratuity politely, according to the actual condition of the person whom he is inviting. Yet, the choice of the religious life is open to other motivations precisely because of its dare struc-tare. These motivations are not properly religious and can therefore cause great harm to the individual who acts on them. For example, there is the motivation pres-ent, ironically, in those whose faith is most precarious. Doubt sits in the center of most authentic faith; but where this doubt is severe, and where the person in ques-tion is highly sincere or scrupulous, it sometimes hap-pens that the person wishes to put his doubt "to the su-preme test." That is, he wishes to test it out in the most difficult circumstances in order to be able to say that he gave faith a chance to prove itself to him. A parallel may be drawn here between the case of some religious and that of doctors and psychiatrists among whom a high incidence of depression is found. This depression is con-sidered to be as much a cause of their professional interest and vocation as it is a result of exposure to the hard realities of their profession. Similarly the religious may gravitate to his particular way of life in order to test faith at the extreme. Unfortunately, he may then push himself (or others) beyond the measure of daring to an unbounded or fanatical kind of performance testing, without much joy or real personal exchange, and without the care that distinguishes the darer from the presumptu-ous or dangerous achiever. What the Religious Dares to Do If in its human form the religious life is an act of daring, what is the content of that dare? What does the religious dare to do? As a general statement we might say that the religious dares the normal structures of Christian living. The Vatican Council (II) pointed out that the religious' special act of consecration "is deeply rooted in [their] baptismal consecration and provides an ampler manifestation of it" (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, n. 5). This baptismal con-secration takes in the whole Christian commitment to form community with God and with one's fellow men by engaging in a life of authentic cult and. sacramental humanism. It is obviously a very broad kind of commit-ment. How then is it possible to dare it? What the Church has done is to divide up the baptismal commitment somewhat artificially into the less broad categories of poverty, chastity, and obedience; religious center their dare in these areas. What is important to realize is that the normal Christian has a commitment in these areas by reason of his baptismal vows. He is directed to take a stand, in the name of Christ, on material goods and pos-sessions, on sexual and married love, on his relationship of dependence on God and on others. What the religious does is to take these preexisting structures of the Christian commitment and to treat them in a daring fashion. We will analyze this effort in a moment. Part of the contem-porary crisis in the religious life, however, is precisely the fact that the normal structures of the baptismal com-mitment are in flux. Hence the religious is uncertain in his dare. This is an extremely painful state, and all the more dangerous because the religious is, as a darer, a most earnest person, all appearances to the contrary. It is not surprising that many religious are leaving to under-take specific (if temporary) tasks of more than ordinary dedication. To attribute this phenomenon solely to a lack of generosity or to a general softness is perhaps one of the most simple-minded analyses ever made in the Church. On the other hand, the uncertainty attendant upon the religious life today is largely inevitable. The review to which the Church itself and the baptismal commitment are being subjected today creates a state of imbalance for the general believer and for the religious. We can illustrate this in the three areas of the religious' dare. In one sense, little has changed in the baptized per-son's commitment to poverty. There is still the need to resist our tendency to clutter, to surround, to weigh our-selves down with all sorts of paraphernalia which pains-÷ ÷ ÷ The Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 74! ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS takingly insure or trumpet our personal importance. There is, too, the command and invitation of Christ to share with the needy. In daring these Christian forms of poverty, the religious can hardly pretend that it makes no difference what he owns or what he shares with others. He will therefore continue to aim at divesting himself of those layers of material possession which enable nor-mal people to define themselves in terms of what they have instead of who they are. The religious will bare his person to the world in testimony to the fact that it is at the level of personhood that we most truly exist and Christ most truly works. He will continue to share his talents and his energies with his fellow man. He will also give witness to the fact that sharing at the level of personhood is a far more demanding and far richer kind of sharing than all others, and that this kind of sharing is most illustrative of the kind of redeemer Christ was. But there is a special stamp to the poverty of the baptised Christian today, a stamp which in turn calls for revisions in the way the religious dares that poverty. The Church's present attitude (officially communicated in various encyclicals) toward material goods and toward money is characterized by an insistence on a responsi-ble, intelligent, and imaginative use of these things in society at large. The religious' dare at this level need not imply that he personally receive and keep a salary which he then uses wisely and imaginatively. The prob-lem with money today is not in the individual use of money but in the social uses of money, in the con-structive political uses of money at the institutional, local, national, and international levels. Religious have in fact felt the need to be daring in these areas. They have had to question their investment of money and manpower in traditional institutions and aposto-lates, to consolidate their houses of formation, to avoid reduplication that has no other justification than a de-sire to be true to the Good Old Founder, to fund mis-sionary work conjointly with other groups and even other faiths, to work through civil institutions where these have the moneys and structures to do a job better. But there is always room to improve the quality of our dare. The fortunes of Christian authority are also fluctuating today. Everyone is trying to make sense out of the apparent "disobedience" shown papal and episcopal authority. Opinions range from the simplistic view that we are dealing with a wave of sinful disloyalty to the view that we are developing a Christian anarchy which reduces the relation of the faithful to the hierarchy to a matter of contending power groups. The more solidi analyses of theologians of authority have taken two di- rections: first, to attack facile identifications of Christian authority with those profane forms of authority that we meet in our normal experience (parental, civil, educa-tional, personal magnetism, power, and so forth). What changes, this attack has brought about in our usual attitudes toward jurisdiction, law, rules, derision mak-ing, official teaching, penalties, and so forth, is not yet clear. Secondly, theologians have put Christian authority in the context of dialogue, not as though dialogue were simply the modern style of Christian authority and its pragmatic concomitant, but because of the God-given and inalienable dignity of the individual Christian be-fore all men which demands that he direct his life in responsible freedom, that he assess events with an open-ness to people who think differently from himself. There are innumerable problems in the theology of authority which remain unsolved. Our point here is again to point out that the religious dares what the normal Christian is exposed to in the matter of authority. The hero in the religious community today is not the one who can keep the rules best. Many of those trained to wait for superiors to decide for them what they will do by way of work, apostolate, or formation suffer most. And it is not clear that their suffering offers us the opti-mum example of the folly of the cross. Ironically, the greatest suffering (and possibly the more authentic em-bodiment of Christian folly) comes in the religious' ex-perience of dialogue. Today's religious communities probably have more experience in dialogue than any other large groups of people in the world. In the hours and hours spent on examining apostolate, structures, attitudes, renovation, and local problems, religious have discovered the real dimensions of their divi-sions. This discovery has often been accompanied with confusion and even with bitterness. Some communities have, to all appearances, been destroyed by this dialogue. Others are finding their life less romantic, more stark and seemingly loveless. Still others are discovering that it is precisely in a keen sense of intramural differences that the true nature of Christian faith is emerging. The religious is discovering that he must and can break bread --at least the bread of Christ--with those with whom he differs. He must and can work together despite serious ideological rifts. He must and can love what is really not himself. The image of his religious community as a homo-geneous unit has shattered irreparably. If he does not find a new and absolute source of unity in the principle of dialogue itself, he is doomed. The astounding aspect of this whole development is that the secular world needs precisely this kind of unity-in- diversity at the present time. Nothing could be more ÷ ÷ ÷ The Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 4. 4. George . McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS pragmatic and more relevant than for the Roman Catholic Church, through its experience of dialogue, to become the spokesman for dialogue in the modern world, to share with the world its hitter experience and yet the constructive healing that it has found in dialogue. We are learning as a community and not simply as in-dividuals to face the different levels of meaning that lie behind human language, to concentrate on that which unites us rather than on that which tears us apart, to rid ourselves of the mentality that says it is easy to dis-agree in lucid and unambiguous terms. Perhaps if we learn this lesson well the world will profit from our presence. The religious communities are now £eeling the pain of dialogue in the most intense fashion. Dialogue has hardly even begun on the parish level and, given our cultural and religious background, it will be only through an "authoritative" command of bishops over a long period that parish-level dialogue will be triggered and sustained. In the meantime religious communities will be asked to dare this dialogue structure of authority. If they are hard pressed in doing so, it is no great surprise. The question is: Is it not worthwhile? The third and most obvious area of the religious' dare is the matter of chastity. Chastity is required of all Christians by reason of their baptismal vows. Unfortu-nately, it is often understood in purely negative terms without much realization that a purely negative view is uhimately insulting to Christ. Yet, the purpose of Christian chastity is that every Christian learn from Christ what it is to be an authentic human lover. Such is the logic of the sacrament of matrimony, in which a couple accepts Christ into the heart of their human love, making His attitudes the standard for their own relationship. What this implies, too, is that, when Christ is introduced into the heart of human love, that love is forced to become open to other people beyond the lovers themselves. For the commitment to Christ as the standard and support of human love opens the couple out to Christ's community who help to interpret the standard and to support the couple in their pursuit of human love. Hence Christ makes even the private love between man and woman more open to others and more enriching for all. The religious extend this principle of openness in human love through Christ. By introducing Christ even more into the heart of his love, he opens himself out to more human contacts, to relationships of support and understanding with more people. Whatever the ac-tual scope of the religious' concern for and contact with people, his intention, and the content of his dare, is to give himself to as many as possible through Christ. Or, to put it more in the actual terms of his awareness, his instinct and his hope is that in not giving himself to one woman in Christ, Christ makes of him a man for all men and women. There are two observations to be made concerning the religious' chastity. First of all, a vow 0f chastity is not something which blots out in the religious an aware-ness of his own capacity for married love. In fact it seems that the more authentic hi~ dare in this area the more proximately ready he should be for married love. We might even say that, without ever mildly compromising his commitment, the religious should try to keep ready in order that his dare never become a sort of misguided m~prise for other ways of living and loving, and in order that his devotion to the Lord preserve its own proper relationship to other loves. Religious love Christ not with some globally undifferentiated or asexual love, but men love him as a man and women love him as women. And unless one has some notion of what the difference between the two is, one risks marring the appropriate overtones to the individual's relationship to Christ. The second remark to be made is that the religious also serves those for whom human love between a man and a woman is a physical, psychological, or economic impossibility. In an affluent sodety who cares for the un-gainly loves? Who sympathizes for the awkward, the ugly, the malproportioned? For people in whom love crouches like a deformed child? For those for whom their own sexuality is an embarrassment or a grotesque albatross? For whom communication with the other sex is at best a halting dumb-show or hollow bravura and at worst a mockery? Against the standard of successful married love, these people are judged severely in most societies. We do our best to hide them, or not to discuss them, because we surreptitiously set up as an absolute standard of human dignity success in married love. The presence of religious can do much to dissipate this false assessment of human dignity. Sooner or later, some0he is going to have to explain the religious who, while he insists on his own dignity, does not measure it by the imperious standard of successful married love. And others, seeing the religious, can take hope for their own dignity. Conclusion Our analysis has not left us without questions. This is inevitable since any theological image is no more than that, a way of understanding a faith experience which constantly runs ahead of our images of it. In admitting the difficulty of reconciling the image of daring with the service aspect of the vows (service to Christ and to men), we are simply expressing in other terms the perennial problem of reconciling love of self with love of others, ÷ ÷ Th~ ToI! the problem of being a self in the world. Other prob-lems lie beneath the surface of our consideration of the content of the religious' dare. A kind of parallel think-ing urges us to conclude that, just as the religious ends up not marrying, not having possessions, so too he should end up not choosing in the face of a superior's commands. This is indeed an aspect of his dare, but only in the sense that the religious foregoes choosing to limit dia-logue, just as he foregoes limiting his human love to one woman and just as he foregoes limiting his person to his possessions. The superior's commands should not ignore the positive purpose of the vows which are not supposed to be some kind of exercise in how-long-can-you-go-holding- your-breath. The religious superior has to realize that the vows open up the religious to the service of all. Moreover the superior has to realize that he is dealing with the daring of an individual person and that his function as superior is not to get individuals to conform to some imaginary and generalized "will of Christ." The superior's main role is to let Christ work in the life of the individual religious, without himself insisting a priori on the possible ways in which and only in which Christ can work. The religious superior can never interfere with the general lines of the structure of the religious life itself. If, as we suggested, these general lines require the re-ligious to dare the baptismal commitment to poverty, chastity, and obedience, it becomes all the more im-portant for religious superiors today to examine their own attitudes toward how the Church today is formu-lating the baptismal commitment. On this point, the general argument in the Church over what the implica-tions of Christian baptism are is taking a further toll on individual religious who feel that their dare is up in the air while the general argument rages. It is hardly sur-prising, then, that the optimists and pessimists line up in about the same way on the religious life as they do on the Church itself. It is curious, however, how optimism also resembles a dare. ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCaul~y, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOHN W. STAFFORD, C.S.V. Prayer Life in the Contemporary Community Introduction There are several approaches to a reflection on the prayer life of the contemporary religious community. One could enter the reflection, with the bias that there just does not seem to be much prayer going on these days in the contemporary community, either private, personal prayer or communal prayer. In that case the title of this paper might have been altered to read: "The Decline and Fall of Prayer in the World of Today." A second bias might be a more joyous one. Freed from the routine of the so-called religious exercises, the con-temporary religious leads a life of prayer that is unself-ish, authentic, meaningful, and full of compassion and concern for one's fellow man in God's world of today. The times and places of prayer are utterly unimpor-tant, but there is prayer going on. The forms of prayer are informal, perhaps free-form, or even utterly form-less. But there is substance to the prayer, and substance is certainly more important than form. Our title then might have been: "Come, All You Gals and Guys, Let's Strum a Prayer to the Lord." Or, if one wants to risk use of a language that is not exactly alive and jumping, the title might even be, with a certain appropriateness: "Laborare Est Orate." A third approach might be from the bias of the har-monizer, the synthesizer, the cool observer of the con-temporary scene, who perhaps thinks he is without bias. The reflection then would focus on what is good in the prayer life of religious in the past that should be pre-served, on what should be modified to conform to the needs of today (with a reference, of course, to Perfectae ÷ ÷ ÷ John W. $taf-ford° C.S.V., lives at 1100 Forest Avenue; Evanston, Illinois 80£02. VOLUME 28, 1969 747 + + ]ohn W. Sta~ord, C~.V. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS caritatis, n. 3), and finally on how entirely new concepts of prayer can enrich our religious life. The title of all this could well be: "The Adaptive Renewal of Prayer Life in the Contemporary Community"; perhaps more briefly: "Old Wine in New Bottles", or maybe: "Old Wine in Your Own New Plastic Bag." There could even be a fourth approach (and I am sure more), that of the planner and the prophet. The reflection would be directed towards some kind of schema of prayer life to fit the tempo and needs of to-day. There could be principles and propositions, a sort of blueprint or script or scenario for the ideal type of prayer life for a contemporary religious. This could be entitled simply: "How the Religious of Today Should Pray." The approach here, no doubt with conscious and un-conscious overtones of all four of the above, will be what may be rather grandiosely called phenomenological. The reflection will be that very difficult one of attempting to look at the prayer life of religious factually and with-out bias, non-judgmentally. Perhaps in any meaningful sense this is practically impossible, not only because of the lack of truly factual information, but. also due to man's apparently irresistible drive to look at every-thing through the basic biases of his being. The Facts of Contemporary Prayer The hard facts of the contemporary prayer life of religious are not easy to come by. There are all sorts of things going on ad experimentum; but there seem precious few real experiments with verified data that can be communicated and dealt with in objective study. There are, of course, some generalizations frequently made, but of dubious value. Some examples: religious today have largely lost the true spirit of prayer; there is less prayer today, but better prayer; there is really more prayer going on, in pri,date, although less in public to be seen by others; there are new modes of prayer around that are truly prayer even though they cannot at all be classified into the categories of the past. No doubt such statements are true for selected nmnbers of people, but how generalized we can make them it is impossible to say. But it seems that, based on widespread observation and report, some true generalizations are possible about the present-day prayer behavior of religious. Fewer religious are seen in their chapels, either for private prayer before the Blessed Sacrament or for com-munal exercises of prayer. When they do come together to pray, it is on a schedule that is notably more flexible and less demanding than even only a few years ago. There certainly has been adaptation in prayer "to the physical and psychological conditions of today's reli-gious" (Perfectae caritatis, n. 3). Changes in the forms of communal prayer have been widespread: exercises formerly thought best performed in common, like spiritual reading and visits to the Blessed Sacrament, are now considered more personal and private. The formulas of morning and evening prayer, which in many congregations grew like barnacles over the decades and even over the centuries, have been largely replaced by the official prayers of the Church, Lauds and Vespers or Compline. More recently, these official prayers have lost some of their novelty in those congregations where they were only recently introduced; hence there has been a rather widespread substitution of other readings for the Psalms, and this has here and there taken forms that are as contemporary as the latest popular literature. Today, then, there is certainly more variety, more improvisa-tion, more individual participation in prayer than there has been in the "Official" Church for centuries. It seems that another notable change with regard to the prayer life of religious is that, even though there may be less praying in public, the whole question of prayer has become explosively public. People talk about prayer more than perhaps at any other time since the Golden Age of Spanish mysticism in the sixteenth cen-tury. But the talk today would hardly be understood by a Spanish or any other variety of mystic: it deals not with degrees of the spiritual life, not with problems of aridity and desolation and dark nights of the soul, but with the very relevance of forms of prayer and of prayer itself in a secular age. There is a frankness in today's discussions about prayer totally unknown before. The superiority of prayer over service to others is seriously questioned. The assumption that there should be the same prayer for all at the same time and in the same place is simply rejected. And some of the traditional prayers of the Church come in for especially withering criticism, like the clear implication in the Hymn at Lauds for the Christmas season that the Infant Jesus was cold and hungry, and that choice bit from Psalm 136, at Thursday's Lauds: "Happy the man who shall seize and smash your little ones against the rocks." And "Good Night, Jesus," just does not seem to swing on an electric guitar. The whole place of prayer in the religious life, es-pecially in the formative years, has come under ques-tioning scrutiny. It would seem a valid generalization that until fairly recently young religious fresh "out of the world" and into the novitiate, for the most part, first were taught to pray, according to the accepted 4. 4- 4- Prayer LiJe VOLUME 28, ].969 749 ÷ ÷ ÷ John W. Sta~ord, C~.V. REVZEW FOR RELZG[OUS forms and customs of the congregation. Then, in seclu-sion from the world they learned how to live in charity with one another. Finally, if they belonged to the active societies, after a number of years of formation it was considered safe to permit them to engage in some form of external apostolate for the service of others, where they would meet "people of the world." Throughout they were taught to do all this for Christ who is God. It is not at all. clear that the concepts of Christ and of God of many religious today are those of even a decade ago. The Thomistic God of the philosophers is by no means accepted by all religious today. Maybe this was true a generation ago, too, but the fact is that if it was, one just did not say so! And views of Christ held today by many religious might have been labeled as tainted with heresy not at all long ago. It is not popular today to begin with prayer, for God through Christ, then move on to carefully guarded relationships with a highly se-lected group of chosen souls presumably much like yourself. You begin with people. In your encounters with people you learn more of yourself; and, if you are lucky, you come to see that people, ultimately, cannot really fulfill the totality of human needs. So God enters in, transcendent, it is true, but not at all the God with the carefully distinguished attributes of the old theo-logical manuals, and by no means always the God to whom novices formerly were taught to pray. But this God, nevertheless, is still a God to whom one prays. As everyone knows, a notable change in the prayer life of the contemporary religious, as in the prayer life of the whole Church, is the restoration of the centrality of the divine liturgy. Even though the importance or even the wisdom of daily Mass is questioned widely, and the forms of the Mass by no means always held to what is officially permitted, the Mass is still the great prayer of religious. It is a fact that many are dissatisfied with the Mass unless it is made something that they consider authentic, .dynamic, and fulfilling. The Liturgy of the Word is modified to fit the needs and interests of the participants, and the spontaneous changes made in the Liturgy of Sacrifice are in the direction of more personal meaningfulness and of greater social relevancy. A final fact that might be noted in today's prayer life of religious is that it can no longer be considered as restricted to the "ghetto" of the convent chapel. For the Mass at least, religious join more often than before with others in public church or university chapel. And those who do not belong to the congregation have now a warmer welcome than ever before to worship with religious in their own chapels. Religious, too, like all in the Church, have come to see that ecumenical prayer is a beautiful witness to the uriity and brotherhood of mankind. The PersonabCommunity Tension Throughout what has just been said we can distill out, amongst other things, a tension between the per-sonal or the private and the communal or public that, it would seem, is the greatest in history. Whether, as some would say, in the past the person became lost in the group or, as others would say, the group bestowed per-sonal fulfillment on the individual, there did in fact seem less tension between the two. Some things were done privately, some together; there seemed litde debate about it all. Certainly, there have always been in reli-gious communities as in all societies this elemental con-flict between the individual and the collectivity, the age old philosophical and very real and practical problem of the one and the many. But the conflict was generally controlled in the area of religious prayer. Today we witness a tremendous development of per-sonalism, of emphasis on the dignity and integrity of the individual. Though there is around, even in our highly sophisticated society, a lot of compulsive conforming to group norms and tribal customs, there is a more wide-spread and more intensive insistence on the importance of the individual. Read the documents of Vatican II and the pronouncements of our own contemporary popes; read the Declaration of the Rights of Man of the United Nations; recall the Four Freedoms of a generation ago; note the contemporary emphases everywhere on the rights of conscience and on freedom of religion; look at the map of the world. Everywhere there is insistence on self-government of peoples, on responsible self-determi-nation of the individual. Truly we can call this the supreme age in history of the individual person. Paradoxically, we can also see that never before in history has there been more "community." This can be seen, at one level, in the communications explosion of our age, the mass media of communication, the break-down of barriers of space and time by jet and satellite. Although there is certainly not peace throughout the world, nevertheless as never before in history a political or diplomatic brushfire anywhere is watched with alarm lest it become a world conflagration. Even though all men are by no means brothers, there is a longing for universal brotherhood, and progress towards it, that are truly remarkable. There is a concern for the poor and the unlettered and the deprived of the world as never before. This is clearly evident on a more local level. Vast groups of our own population are outraged, not because + + Prayer Liye VOLUME ~8, ~tg&~ ¯ 751 + 4. 4. John W. Sta~o~d~ .$.V. REVI

Issue 26.2 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; In~iwelling God by Thomas Dubay, S.M. Epikeia by Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. Obedience in Vatican II by Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Reexamining Community Government' by Rene H. Chabot, M.S. Teilhard, Love, and Celibacy by Charles W. Freible, S.J. Changes in Symbolism by Sister Marie Raymond and Morris L Berkowitz Personality Assessment by Walter J. Coville Courtesy in Correspondence by Richard M. McKeon, S.J: Ecelesial Significance of Working Religious by Thomas Whiteman, S.M. Private and Liturgical Prayer by Herman A. P. Schmidt, S.J. Local Council or Chapter? by William F. Hogan, C.S.G. Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, Previews Questions and Answers Book Reviews 203 231 242 261 282 295 305 311 316 324 336 339 345 350 364 VOLUI~tE 26 NUMBER 2 March 1967~. NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS In order to facilitate the operations of the Business Office of I~vmw FOR R~LXGIOVS, please observe in the future the two following norms: Renewals, new subscriptions, where accorfipanied by a remittance, should be sent to: REvIEw FOR I~LXCIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RwL~G~OVS; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Your observance of these two norms will be greatly appreciated. THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation The indwelling of the Trinity is easy to understand and it is difficult to understand. It is so simple that it can be substantially described in a page, and so profound that a whole book can scarcely outline its beauties and its implications. It is so patent that a child can appreciate its splendor, so mysterious that theologians have disa-greed for centuries in explaining its details. The divine inhabitation is a truth at once astonishingly beautiful, deceptively obvious, profoundly rich, eminently practi-cal. Yet the literature of our day dealing with the do~trine of God inabiding presents an anomalous situation. On the one hand, there is no truth more central to the Chris-tian mystery than man's union with his close-by God, a truth mentioned repeatedly in both the old and the new dispensations, a truth prominent in the ecclesiology of Vatican II, a truth basic to liturgical and contemplative prayer, a truth that many find irresistibly attractive when it is taught in a fresh, scriptural manner. Yet on the other hand we hardly ever hear a fully developed doctrinal sermon or conference on the subject. Most books dealing with the mystery are either exclusively pious or heavily speculative. The first do good, but not as much as they would if theology preceded practice. The second inform theologians, but they do not move the People of God. Current theological work on the divine indwelling in the just seems to have jelled into several scholastic elabo-rations in such manner that we find little promise of further fruitful development in the direction in which they have gone. And if we are completely candid, we must confess to a suspicion that these elaborations labor under a considerable degree of sterility from the practical point of view of attracting men to live the mystery.1 1 In making these remarks we are aware of and grateful for the vast and valuable contributions of scholasticism toward an under- Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary; 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. VOLUME 26, 1967 203 4. 4" 4, Thom~ Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~04 Nonetheless, experience makes it clear that once the in-telligent layman, religious, or priest is given an enlight-ened taste of the indwelling mystery, he is often eager to learn more about it. In fact, in our conference and re-treat work we find that there is scarcely any subject that is as enthusiastically received as is this one. If such be true, we should be able to present it in an attractive anti fecund manner--which remark does not absolve the reader from :patient study and reflective consideration. We should not find ourselves at the end of a theological blind alley with an apparently sterile truth on our hands, even though we are dealing here, as Pius XII remarked, with a truth so splendid that it can never be fully grasped by a human mind or adequately couched in creaturely terms.2 A second anomaly is suggested by a tension pull be-tweeix the aggiornamento thinking of Vatican. II and the writing and speaking emphases of many current servers. Repeatedly the Council fathers stress the primacy of prayer and inner renewal, while just as repeatedly most others emphasize external approaches and tech-niques. We tend to see in the Council what we want to see. One :can read a Whole volume on change in the re-ligious life and not find a single chapter on what Vatican II considers most in need of improvement: our prayer life. That this can happen without our being amazed more .disturbing than that it happens. Yet we have seen little amazement. A third anomaly can be found in the strain many re:. ligious feel between a deep hunger for God and prayer growth on the one hand and a pressing time pressur(: problem on the other. Serious theologians and sincere ligious all grant the primacy of theological prayer (faiths, hope, love), but few find the calm leisure and extended time needed for prayer development. If one grants the conciliar admonition that the best external adaptations will be ineffectual without inner renewal (DRL, ~ 2), h cannot fail to conclude that the pressured activism of our day looms as a major problem. And it. r.emains unsolved, The unsatisfied hunger goes on. God is hidden because we are hiding. We propose in this series of articles to trace out some scriptural themes dealing with the inabiding Father, His Son, and their Holy Spirit. These themes furnish some of the solid theological bases of profound prayer life. As 'such they lie at the core of any stable, efficacious, genuine renewal in the religious life of our times. standing of this truth and we count ourselves among its students~ Still, much remains to be .done. ~ Mystici Corporis, ~4cta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 35 (1943), p. 231. Cruciality oI the Mystery Reading an undue, significance into his personal' in-terests is an occupational hazard every man must face in the living of a human life. The lawyer tends to exag-gerate law; the physician, medicine; and the shoemaker, footwear. The writer is no less exempt from this tendency than the rest of men. Not only may he overemphasize the printed word, but he may easily see a nonexistent importance in the subject he has chosen to discuss. It is, therefore, with open-eyed awareness of danger that we make the strong statement that the indwelling mystery is crucial to the supernatural economy established by an incredibly loving God.° Yet could not a man, one may ask, say the same regarding the incarnation, the cruci-fixion, the Eucharist? Yes, of course. They are all crucial. But in different ways. Visional Presence The divine inhabitation is crucial as end or goal. It is in view of the inbeing of the Trinity--imperfectly grasped through faith, perfectly through visionmthat all else in the Christian order of things has been structured. When man sinned he lost the Trinity and his orientation toward seeing the Trinity. Fortunately, God so loved the world that He sent the Way that men might repossess the Truth and' the Life that was to abide in their hearts. The beatific vision is the end of the supernatural economy for every man not only temporally but also ontologically; and the beatific vision implies the indwelling presence, the perfect, fully blossomed indwelling presence of our blessed God in His human habitation. The incarnation, crucifixion, Eucharist, the other sac-raments are all themselves directed to the ultimate glori-fication of the Trinity achieved in men through the marvelous intimacy of visional presence. When the creed proclaims at Mass that the Son descended from heaven and became incarnate "for us men and for our salvation," it is declaring that the hypostatic union itself together with its redemptive results is orientated toward this same visional presence, since what is salvation if not the face to face fruition of the Trinity in our risen body? Indwelling and Grace The visional presence of Father, Son, and Spirit is the blossom of a temporally antecedent presence, namely, that in via, on earth. The stroke of death effects no sub-stantial change in the inbeing of the divine Persons in the soul of the just man. This fact brings the cruciality of the indwelling a step closer to the Christian's actual situation on earth, to the here and now condition of his spiritual life. + + Indwelling God VOLUME 26, 1967 4" 4. Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS From the roots of its renewing being, sanctifying grace shouts out for the divine abiding. It shouts because it has been made for the, indwelling which is its fulfillment. Any nature or power seeks its fulfillment in the object for which it has been made. In this sense man's soul: through its intellect and will shouts out for knowledge and love, because truth and goodness are its end. The eye yearns for light and the ear for sound; by color and melody eye and ear are filled and satisfied. Sanctifying grace is a super nature whose object is nothing less than the Trinity in its intimate family life. To see in grace merely a quality rendering us pleasing to God is to ~miss most of what is there to see. Ontologi-cally, sanctifying grace is a Trinity-orientated power. Its whole raison d'etre is to enable man to attain the Father begetting His Son and the Holy Spirit proceeding front the mutual love of Father and Son. If grace requires the indwelling Trinity as its object, the centralness of the latter to the supernatural economy is obvious. The grace organism is tailor-made for the divine inhabitation. Redemption and Indwelling In the unspeakable outflowingness of the divine plan man has been destined not to a stand-off or at a distance knowledge and love of the Lord God but to an inti-mately personal entrance into the inner trinitarian life itself. This statement sounds sober enough. But it actually staggering. Were a man able to grasp the blind-ing splendor of the divine life in its infinity, he would back away aghast at the condescension of his God in in~. viting him to share in it. This sharing was Adam's lot, and he lost it. The redemption effected by the Word incarnate Wa~,; aimed at the reintroduction of humankind into the bosom of the Trinity's inner knowing, loving, delighting~ Jesus was mocked, beaten, spit upon, nailed to cross beams in order that man might once again know, love, and enjoy the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit just as they are. We may rightly say that the purpose of the whole drama of Calvary was the indwelling of the Trinity in men's hearts, imperfectly in earthly presence, perfectly in visional presence. Inhabitation and Actual Per]ection When theologians discuss the precise nature of sanc-tity, they commonly distinguish actual perfection from habitual perfection. The latter is the permanent quality of sanctifying grace together with the supernatural pow-ers rooted in it, the infused virtues, and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. The former refers to the degree of goodness found in a man's exercise of the virtues. A man is habi-tually perfect when he possesses the supernatural orga-nism; he is actually perfect according as his operations are right and informed with more or less intense acts of love. We have already remarked that the habitual perfec-tion of our grace organism requires the indwelling Guests as its object. We may now observe that man's actual per-fection is likewise directed to the three divine Persons lodged in his heart. When by hope we yearn for our su-preme Good or by charity love infinite Loveableness, we are not yearning for and loving a God who is miles be-yond our reach. We seek a God who is immediately pres-ent. If, therefore, our belief, hope, love, praise, sorrow, petition, and all the rest that we do. are directed to the indwelling Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, who could question the centrality of the mystery in our grace-glory order? The all-embracing admonition of St. Paul, "whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God," has its counterpart in his other directive, "glorify God and bear him in your body," or as the Greek text has it, "glorify God in your body." 3 Our every daily act is to be directed to the Trinity abiding in our being. A Living Fountain Within Man lives only by God. This is true both on the natural and the supernatural levels. As Paul put the matter, it is in Him alone that we live and move and have our being. The Creator is constantly pouring out existence into the creatures He has made. Else they could not subsist for a second. Supernaturally, too, it is true that He causes at every moment the whole of our grace-life. "I came that they have life, and have it more abun-dantly." 4 So dependent is man on this God for super-natural life that he utterly withers away once he is cut off from the divine source: "Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it remain on the vine, so neither can you unIess you abide in ~ne. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me, and I in him, he bears much fruit: for without me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me, he shall be cast outside as the branch and wither." s It is important for us to realize that this Ions virus, this living fountain,6 pours out the divine life into our a l Cor 10:31; I Cor 6:20. We are using the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine translation except for the historical books of the Old Testament. For these latter we cite the Douay-Rheims version. ~Jn 10:10. ~ Jn 15:4-6. ~ Hymn, Vespers of Pentecost. 4. 4- + Indwelling God VOLUME 26, ~,967 207 4" 4" 4" Thoma~ Du~ay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS being from within our being. The Holy Spirit does not dispense His gifts as a detached station operator might refuel a machine. He is most intimately within infusing sanctifying grace, infusing faith, hope, and charity and all the virtues, infusing His own gifts which render us responsive to the very motions by which He moves us. He is most intimately within dispensing His actual gra~ces ¯ which illumine our intellect with truth and inspire ou~ir will toward the good. It is difficult for us to appreciate a cause working from within, since our sense experience speaks to us only of causes that influence and produce effects on things external to them. We see a bat hit a ball and a pen write on paper. But the divine Trinity pro-duces the whole marvelous intricacy of our participated godly life from the intimate recesses of our soul. To know this inner fountain, then, and to live in vibrant touch with it surely lies at the heart of man'i~ supernatural life in the grace-glory plan. If all this be so, there is little danger of exaggeration in our insistence on the cruciality of the indwelling mystery in the Christian dispensation. The five truths we have just suggested even taken singly point unmistakably to the importance of our mystery. Taken collectively they should leave an indelible mark on the Christian soul. Quest Every man yearns because he is incomplete. He needs fulfillment. And he needs fulfillment because he is a creature, an inherently imperfect creature. Wise men yearn for God because He is complete, He is. fulfillment, He is Creator, He is perfect: "As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?" 7 This longing quest is the story of these articles. The Christian soul is a searching soul or it is nothing at all. It begins by leaving and looking, leaving the world and looking for God.The sincere man or woman, clerica!, religious, or lay, is typically looking for more than earth can offer, and if ever in later life he is no longer a searcher, it is not because he has found completely but because he has .given up the hunt. God is such that He can still be sought even after He has been found. As the hind longs for the running waters, so do the faithful layman and religious and priest long for God. He is their health and their refreshment. Their souls are athirst for God, their living God, their triune God, their indwelling God. They desire union with Him, they yearn for His love, they long for His peace, they sigh for His! comfort, they pine for the vision of His face. * Ps 41:2L Preamble to Indwelling Contrary to a prevalent presumption we must point out that God did not reveal the divine indwelling in an unpre-pared suddenness. He first laid the foundation centuries before the Word appeared in visible form. He proceeded slowly, methodically, thoroughly. We propose to follow the divine pedagogy. Hence, this first article bears on the an-cient revelation regarding the remarkably warm and familiar God-and-man relationships. Nature does not progress by discrete leaps. It proceeds gradually, smoothly, harmoniously, because its Author is wise, understanding, orderly, good.-Nature's Author is one and the same as supernature's Author, and so super-nature likewise proceeds gradually, smootMy, harmoni-ously. Being a part of the supernatural plan for man, divine revelation follows the pattern oi a gentle unfolding--like the bud of a rose. This is why the loving kindness of God lifts the curtain before the redemptive plan in the surpris-ingly general terms of an opposition between two offspring. Slowly He sharpens the message to a messiah born of a people, then a tribe, finally a maiden. Divine wisdom gradually prepares a crude people for an exquisite reality, the incarnation of the Word. And the Word, too, once He has appeared, exerdses an impressive restraint in letting even His intimates know who He is. God's workings with men are smooth. So is it with our indwelling mystery. Were we to imagine that the astonishing declarations of the New Testament on the divine inhabitation through love struck the Jews as en-tirely strange, we would be gravely mistaken. Yet at the same time there must be no mistake about the fact that this revelation is astonishing. "If anyone love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our abode with hims . Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" 9 When the Jews first heard of this sublime and touching familiarity with the Lord God, they may have been mystified, but we doubt that they were shocked. They had been gradually prepared to accept this new man-to-God intimacy by a whole series of instructions in the Pentateuch, the prophets, the Psalter and the wis-dom literature, instructions that slowly laid open the di. vine closeness to man. By these teachings the Hebrews had been conditioned to thinking of Yahweh as nearby, as warmly dwelling with His people; as taking up a habita. tion in their midst. It is this conditioning that we shall in-vestigate in the present article. ' Jn 14:23. ' I Cor 3:16. 4. 4. Indwelling God VOLUME 26, 1967 209 + ÷ ÷ Tlunn~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We, too, in the new dispensation need to be conditioned and gradually prepared by the ancient revelation if we are to appreciate more deeply the new. It is our opinion that treatises on the indwelling do not begin at the beginning. They usually fail to follow the divine pedagogy of gradual and smooth introduction. They often commence in medias res with an abstract scholastic analysis of New Testament texts, and understandably enough, a mystery, burning in itself, leaves the student cold and unimpressed. In this article we propose to explain the beautiful un-folding of the divine plan, not according to a chronological order, noi within the framework of a preconceived set of philosophical categories, but rather according to several doctrinal themes we have found imbedded in the sacred pages. We shall pursue this purpose according to the fol-lowing outline: A. Why a scriptural approach? B. Scriptural invitation to intimacy C. Omnipresence through immensity D. Omnipresence through omniscience E. Supernaturally familiar presences 1. Among the chosen people 2. In the Temple and on the Ark 3. Closeness to certain men F. Divine familiarity I. Mutual love theme 2. Tender concern theme 3. Sure refuge theme 4. Yearning for God theme 5. Delightful rest in God theme G. Summary Why a Scriptual Approach? "The word of God is living and efficient and keener than any two-edged sword, and extending even to the division of soul and spirit, of joints also and of marrow, and a discerner of the thoughts and intentions of the heart." 10 The relations of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit with humankind are marvelous mysteries. They are mar-velous, quite simply, because in the thoughtful man they incite marvel, admiration, wonder. They are mysteries because for any man they are secret, deep, unspeakable. It is only upon condition of listening to and accepting God's word prayerfully that man can "be filled with knowledge of his will, in all spiritual wisdom and under-standing," al for, indeed, "we speak the wisdom of God, Heb 4:12. Col 1:9. mysterious, hidden, which God foreordained before the world unto our glory, a wisdom which none of the rulers of this world has known," 12 This God, then, is the sole source of His plan, since "the things of God no one knows but the Spirit of God." 13 The word of God is living, for it possesses a mysterious power of seeing and moving and impelling and inspiring that no other word possesses. It is keener than any two-edged sword, for it lays perfectly bare the inner heart of man. It is e~dent and keen, too, because it effortlessly lays open the divine plan insofar as it chooses. We turn our primary attention, therefore, to this word, first, in this article as it was spoken of old, and second, in our following articles, as it was uttered by the incarnate Word, for "God who at sundry times and in divers man-ners spoke in times past to the fathers by the prophets, last of a.ll in these days has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things." 14 Because no man has ever seen God with a natural vision,15 because no man can naturally suspect any but a natural presence of God in His creation, it follows that no man can either attain or understand or unfold a su-pernatural presence except insofar as he draws his light from divine revelation. Speculative theology is good, but speculative theology is not philosophy. It may not the-orize in a vacuum. If we are to speculate on the in~twell-ing Trinity living and loving in the depths of our souls, we .must first sit humbly with Mary at the feet of the Word and listen to His word. The listening must be ob-servant, but it must also be humble and contemplative, since the Father does not reveal these things to the proud and the crafty but only to little ones.10 The indwelling of the Trinity is a marvelous, in-triguing mystery. But it is a mystery, and we may make no mistake about it. If, as Augustine observed, we think we understand God, it is not God. In theology we attairt clearly only our representation of God. And even the concept remaihs analogous, obscure, dark. Clarity is re-served for vision. If we hope to comprehend something of the marvel of God~in-us, we may speculate and reason only after we have drunk deeply of the sacred text and have made every effort to penetrate into its significance. This pro-cedure offers theorizing a solid basis. Drinking first from Scripture has the further ad-vantage of warming the heart as it enlightens the mind. " 1 Cor 2:7L '" 1 Cor 2:1 I. a Heb I:IL "Jn 1:18. '" Lk 10:21~9. IndwelHng God VOLUME 26, 1967 Thomo~ Dubwy, $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We shall be struck with the intimacy of the divine con-descension more than once as we explore the divine words about God's presence among and within His people. Mere speculation can leave a man cold. God's word does not. Scriptural Invitation to lntimacy A common misconception notwithstanding, one of the traits of the Old Testament, at once remarkable and comforting, is the degree of intimacy--and, yes, we may say tenderness--that the infinite God encourages between Himself and His creatures. This we must appreciate fully as a preparation for our understanding of the ia~dwelling mystery of evhngelical revelation. It seems to us that this mystery has been thought, spoken of, and written about too much with a spatial and local emphasis and too little with a stress on a love-bond between persons. We shall notice later how thoroughly the Sacred Scriptures of the new dispensation emphasize the knowing-loving-enjoy-ing themd in their presentation of the God-in-man mystery. As the Gospels and Epistles present the indwell-ing they surely include the local presence of the Trinity in the just man, but they rather insist on personal rela-tionships and especially that of love. Because of this fact, the Old Testament is an invalu-able prelude and introduction to the mystery of. the Trinity abiding in man's heart. Just as the divine famili-arity and affection were for the Hebrews' a preparation for their appreciation of the divine inbeing of the Chris-tian economy, so is our study of this first step in divine revelation a foundation for our grasp of the supernatural order into which we were baptized2 Though the Hebrews were at best only dimly aware of an indwelling presence of God within their individual persons, yet they were vividly aware of their personal and familiar relationships with Him. God was utterly real to the Hebrew. He was close, interested, concerned with His people. He per-sonally intervened in their history and in their lives. This lesson they can and must teach us. To our mind the indwelling of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in man's soul is not primarily a question of place. These divine persons are substantially present every-where: in a speck of dust, a cucumber, a planet, a sinner, a saint. The mystery of the divine indwelling is primarily a matter of manner, and we may add~ a manner that is not to be explained adequately by the principles of scho-lastic theology, whether they be the principles of Bona-venture or Thomas or Suarez. These we gladly use, but only after we have learned our first lessons at the foun-tain of divine revelation. Hence, the importance of learning at the lips o£ God. We are convinced that we will understand the divine inbeing more accurately (and be far more inclined to live it) once we have seen the Father's divine anxiety that man be intimate with Him. For what is the indwelling mystery but a simple consequence of the astounding con-descension of God's love for man? How to present this divine anxiety as it is found in the Old Testament is a problem. And the problem is not how to find enough texts to prove a thesis, for we have not started out with a thesis but only with a desire to find out what God has to say about His familiar relations with man. Our problem is rather too many texts: how can one present only a fraction of the evidence without over-whelming or boring the reader? At the risk of artificiality--which we have tried to keep to a minimum--we have decided to deal with the divine-human intimacy of the old dispensation under the head-ing of themes that have frequently recurred in our inves-tigation. The Old Testament unmistakably presents God as "close" to some men and "far away" from others.l~ When, we should like to know, is God close to a man and when is he far off? When does He say to a man as He did to Moses, "you have found favor with me and you are my intimate friend"?xs We have found that He draws near to men in several general ways. These we subsume under the name of themes. Although the Hebrew did not distinguish in his thought patterns a natural from a supernatural presence of the Lord God, yet we find several streams of teaching that do as a matter of fact suppose this distinction. For this reason our first two themes bear on what modern theological and philosophical precision term the natural presence of God in His creation. Omnipresence through Immensity Even though the ancient Hebrew looked upon the Lord God as being near to some men and afar off from others, as shining upon some and hiding from others, yet he knew that this God of his was everywhere. Even though the Lord declared Himself especially present in some places, He was nonetheIess in every place when one really got down to asking the question,x~ The divine immensity was a familiar reality to the chosen people. To say that God is in heaven,s0 is to say that He is everywhere in His exalted majesty. He is repeatedly asked to hear from heaven the prayers of His people,~x See by way of illustration Ps 72:28 and Jer 31:3. Ex 33:17. 1 K 8:30. I K 8:30. 2 Chr 6:21,23,25X.7,30,35039. ÷ ÷ ÷ Indwelling God VOLUME 26, 1967 4" 4" 4. Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and He is so immense that the heavens cannot contain Him.22 No matter where the evil go they cannot escape the punishing presence of this God: "Though they break through to the nether world, even from there my hand shall bring them out; though they climb to the heavens, I will bring them down." = Nothing is secret to Him Who is both close at hand and afar off. "Am I a God near at hand only, says the Lord, and not a God far off? Can a man hide in secret without my seeing him? says the Lord. Do I not fill both heaven and earth? says the Lord." 24 In a graphic manner the Psalmist well sums up the in-escapability of the Lord God: "Where can I go from your spirit? From your presence where can I flee? If I go up to the heavens, you are there. If I take the wings of the dawn, if I settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall guide me, and your right hand hold me fast." 25 As we might expect, the fullest Old Testament revela-tion of the divine immensity was given toward the end of the ancient dispensation. Written about a century be-fore Christ, the Book of Wisdom speaks not only of God's presence to all things but also of His filling the world and being in all that He has made. "The spirit of the Lord fills the world, is all-embracing, and knows man's utterance. Therefore, no one who speaks wickedly can go unnoticed." 20 "You spare all things, because they are yours, O Lord and lover of souls, for your imperishable spirit is in all things." 27 We may notice here an adumbra-tion of the new revelation in the conjoining of love and inbeing. Omnipresence through Omniscience Sensitive to the concrete order of the existential, the Hebrew knew well that the divine immensity is not inert, dead, indifferent filling of the universe. Even in the natu-ral order this God has a personal, dynamic contact with man. He keeps His eye especially on the rational crea-ture. We have progressed, therefore, a step further. Yah-weh not only is in all things; He has a personalized knowledge contact with everything that issues from His creating fingers, but especially with His human creations fashioned after His own image. Job lays down that all things lie open to the divine eye. "He beholds the ends of the earth and sees all that is under the heavens . He splits channels in the rocks; His eyes behold all that is 1 K 8:27 and 2 Chr 6:18. Amos 9:2. Jer 23:23f. Ps 138:7-10. Wis I Wis 11:26-12: I. precious. He probes the wellsprings of the streams, and brings hidden things to light." 2s Susanna calls on the omniscience of her God as a witness to her innocence un-der accusation. "O eternal God, you know what is hidden and are aware of all things before they come to be: you know that they have testified falsely against me." z~ But more important still was the ancient Hebrew's con-viction that his Lord God was interested in him, that He saw his every action, that every action had an importance before Him. This Lord searched the very heart of man. The first word of the Lord to come to the prophet Jeremiah was a word of personal divine interest shown through knowledge that preceded the prophet's conception and consecrated him while he was yet unborn. This provident God looks upon all men, not only His select messengers. He witnesses their inner thoughts, ob-serves their hearts, understands their every deed and watches their every step. The spirit of this Lord fills the world and embraces all things. He can be named the Searcher of hearts and souls.3° We can already begin to see why the Hebrew felt so near to his God. Yahweh was not an omnipotent Creator who cared nothing for His creation, was uninterested in it. We think rather that the vivid sense of the divine real-ity so impressive in the Old Testament was partially due to the Israelite's conviction of the divine closeness con-sequent on the divine omniscience. Psalm 138 .beauti-fully illustrates our point by combining in several mas-terly strokes the Lord's immensity, His omniscience, His tender care, His awesome skill. The first section deline-ates the "too wonderful" divine knowledge of man. 0 Lord, you have probed me and you know me; you know when I sit and when I stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. My journeys and my rest you scrutinize, with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, 0 Lord, you know the whole of it. Behind me and before, you hem me in and rest your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; too lofty for me to attain.= This passage obviously merits careful meditation by anyone who wishes to drink in the spirit of God's tender stooping to man as we shall finally see it revealed in the fullness and beauty of the gospel indwelling mystery. The Psalmist continues by developing the omnipresence of Yahweh and its never ceasing providential implications: ~ Jb 28:24,10f. ~ Dn 15:42. ~Jer l:4f; Pry 15:3; Wis l:6f; Sir 15:18f; 17:15; 23:19f; Ps 7:10. ~ Ps 138:1.-6. ÷ ÷ ÷ Indwelling God VOLUME 2t,, ~967 215 Where can I go from your spirit? from your presence where can I flee? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I sink to the nether world, you are present there. ¯ If I take the wings of the dawn, if I settle at the farthest limits of the sea, Even there your hand shall guide me, and your right hand hold me fast.m Finally the sacred writer reflects on the di;Hne Artisan fearfully and wonderfully fashioning his limbs within the very womb of his mother. We should notice in this our final pericope from Psalm 138 that God is especially pres-ent in the mother's womb because He is producing an el-fect. As we shall remark later, this concept of the divine presence explained by effects produced is prominent in theologians' explanations of the indwelling. Hence, it is helpful for us to notice now that one of the special char-acteristics indicating the divine presence among the chosen people was a peculiar manifestation or effect. Thus Yahweh indicated His presence in the sanctuary by the shekinah, a white cloud. Elsewhere He is present by producing with a strong arm the rnirabilia Dei: the fiery bush,ss the ten plagues,s4 the division of the Red Sea,a5 the quail and the manna,3~ the water from a rock,a7 and espedally the awesome theophany on Mount Sinai.as In our present Psalm this same Yahweh is fearfully, wonderfully but quietly present within the maternal womb fashioning the Psalmist's body and thus showing personal interest and love. Truly you have formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother's womb. I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made; wonderful are your works. My soul also you knew full well; nor was my frame unknown to you When I was made in secret, when I was fashioned in the depths of the earth. Your eyes have seen my actions; in your book they are all written; my days were limited before one of them existed. How weighty are your designs, O God; how vast the sum of them! Were I to recount them, they would oumumber.the sands; did I reach the end of them, I should still be with you." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS = Ps 138:7-10. = Ex 3:1-14. a Ex 7:14-11:10. ~ Ex 14:10-31. ~ Ex 16:4-36. ~Ex 17:1-7. m Ex 19:16-20:21. ~Ps 138:13-18. We see in the Psalmist's failure to distinguish primary and secondary causes an indication of how greatly impressed he was by the divine action. Supernaturally Familiar Presences Thus far we have examined three common philosophi-cal truths put in uncommonly beautiful unphilosophical terms: omnipresence through the divine immensity, om-nipresence through omniscience, personal presence through causality. The Hebrew was little inclined to spec-ulate or to prove. He simply stated facts---but beautifully and warmly and sometimes poetically. Nonetheless, these three truths are strictly knowable to unaided human rea-son. They are natural. They fall into the realm of philos-ophy. Our next step introduces us into the theology of God's supernatural presence' among men. It is not yet a trini-tarian presence, not the indwelling mystery, but all the same, it is something over and above the divine inbeing and power in a rock, a tree, a bird. It is even something more than the divine presence to the nations, the pagan, non-Hebrew nations. Yahweh now takes up a special abode in the midst of a tiny people for whom He enter-tains a special love. 1. Among the Chosen People Even though the divine omnipresence was common knowledge among the Israelites, they were aware also of a special dwelling of God among His people and His pe-culiar nearnesg to certain men. Contrary to our expecta-tions, these two types of presence did not seem to pose any particular problem of reconciling omnipresence with an apparently superfluous special presence. One and the same Psalm, for instance, refers both to God's omnipres-ence in the heavens and to His special presence in the Temple enthroned on the cherubim. "Once again, O Lord of hosts, look clown from heaven and see . From your throne upon the cherubim, shine forth before Ephraim, Benjamin and Manasse." 40 This special presence to certain men was spoken of in three main connections: God's presence with His people, with the ark in the Temple and with certain individual men. The Yahweh whom the very heavens could not contain chose to reveal to an insignificant nation that He would somehow dwell in their midst. And He chose to make this revelation in no dull, abstract, obscure manner. Calcu-lated to impress a crude people with the divine reality, the manifestations of the Lord God's closeness, interest, and power possessed the impact of a thunderbolt. Moses is in a field, sees a bush burning, is surprised that it is not being consumed, and then goes over to investigate this remarkable phenomenon. "When the Lord saw him ÷ ÷ ÷ Indwelling God 217 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS coming over to look at it more closely, God called out to him from the bush 'Moses, MosesI' He answered, 'Here I am.' God said, 'Come no nearer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground . 'But,' said Moses to God, 'when I go to the Israelites and say to them, "The God of your fathers has sent me to you," if they ask me, "What is his name?" what am I to tell them?' God replied, 'I am who am,' Then he added, 'This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.' "41 To show His concern for His people this God sends ten frightful plagues into Egypt; He divides a sea for their safe passage; He makes water to gush from a rock. But most spectacular among the manifestations of the supernatural presence of Yahweh is the great theophany of Sinai. "On the morning of the third day there were peals of thunder and lightning, and a heavy cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled. But Moses led the people out of the camp to meet God, and they stationed themselves at the foot the mountain. Mount Sinai was all wrapped in smoke, for the Lord came down upon it in fire. The smoke rose from it as though from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently. The trumpet blast grew louder and louder, while Moses was speaking and God answering him with thunder . " It is no wonder the Hebrews had a vibrant sense of the divine reality and Yahweh's nearness. But the Lord God was not present only on rare occa-sions. He proposed a permanent and calm abiding in the very midst of His people. "I will set my dwelling among you and will not disdain you. Ever present in your midst, I will be'your God, and you will be my people," 4a and so, "in the midst of the Israelites I, the Lord, must be held as sacred." ~ Because this nearby God is so sacred, the Is-raelites must be at special pains to keep their camps be-comingly clean during their travels simply for His sake and His presence in their very midst: "Since the Lord, ,t Ex 3:4f.,13f. ,I Ex 19:16-9. It is now well known that modern Scripture scholars are often disinclined to take literally the details of many Old Testament events. We do not see theological importance in this disinclination, since we are here concerned (as were the Hebrews) chiefly with doctrine, not with literary form. Surely in .this case God somehow made His presence felt in a way the Jews would not forget. We are not immediately concerned with the smoke and the trumpet blast. This same comment will be relevant in our later uses of Old Testament texts. ~a Lv 26:11f. As an adumbration of New Testament revelation we should notice the tie-up between the divine presence and the per-sonal relationship indicated by "l will be your God and you will be my people." ~' Lv 22:32. your God, journeys along within your camp to defend you and to put your enemies at your mercy, your camp must be holy; otherwise, if he sees anything indecent in your midst, he will leave your company." ~ In a special manner the Lord of hosts dwells in Jeru-salem, the faithful city and the holy mountain. "I am in-tensely jealous for Sion, stirred to jealous wrath for her. Thus says the Lord: I will return to Sion, and I will dwell within Jerusalem." 4o This special presence of the Lord among His people is to be a reason for their singing and rejoicing: "Sing and rejoice, O daughter Sionl See, I am coming to dwell among you, says the Lord. Many nations shall join themselves to the Lord on that day, and they shall be his people, and he will dwell among you, and you shall possess Juda as his portion in the holy land, and he will again choose Jerusalem. Silence, all mankind, in the presence of the Lordl for he stirs forth from his holy dwelling." 47 2. In the Temple and on the Ark Within the chosen nation itself the Lord God had a sacred abode in His Temple. Whether this presence in the sanctuary was viewed as distinct from that peculiar to the nation as a whole is not clear, but the mere fact of it is clear and, moreover, indicated in several ways. Quite simply, God is said to be in the Temple built for Him,4s and so He is sought there and prayers reach Him in it. "When my soul" fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; my prayer reached you in your holy temple." ~9 The priests who serve in the Temple are close to their Lord. The unfaithful levites "shall no longer draw near me to serve as my priests, nor shall they touch any of my sacred things," whereas the faithful who cared for the sanctuary during Israel's infidelity "shall draw near me to minister to me, and they shall stand before me to offer me fat and blood." s0 Within the Temple itself the Lord is somehow esp.ecially found in the holy place, and there He is enthroned.~x Even more specifically, He is on the ark of the covenant itself and on occasion He will speak from this sacred spot.~2 Here also David sits before the Lord.~3 This divine dwelling is singular enough that the Is-raelites are to take up a collection of precious materials ~ Dt 23:15. See also w. 104. ,6 Za 8.2f. '~ Za 2:14-7. ~ 1 K 8:12ff. '~Jon 1:8. See also v. 5. ~ Ez 44:13,15. See also 2 S 7:6 and Ex 28:35. ~1Ps 21:4; Lv 16:If. m Ps 98:1; 1 Chr 15:6; Ps 79:2; Ex 25:22; Nm 7:89. ~I Chr 17:16. 4- 4. Indwelling God VOLUME 26, 1967 219 ÷ ÷ 2"homa~ Dubay, $.M. R~'VIb'W FOR RELIGIOUS and then construct a fit habitation for their Lord. "They shall make a sanctuary for me, that I may dwell in their midst. This dwelling and all its furnishings you shall make exactly according to the pattern that I will now show you." ~4 Then in a concrete manner designed to impress the culturally primitive Israelites the Lord God teaches the sacredness of this special presence by prescribing in detail the richness of His habitation.~S 3. Closeness to Certain Men Over and above the peculiar presence of the Lord to His chosen people and their Temple it seems that He gave Himself intimately to some men and withdrew Himself from others. Although it may be anachronistic to suppose that the Hebrew gave the matter any reflexive thought, we believe that he more or less assumed that God's drawing near was more a matter of divine approval and intimacy than a spatial proximity. In any event we now know that such was the case. On the one hand the Lord is far from His people at certain times: "Why, O Lord, do you stand aloof? Why hide in times of distress?" ~e While Yahweh is close to the humble, He is far from the proud. "The Lord is exalted, yet the lowly he sees, and the proud he knows from afar." ~¢ He is far from the wicked. "The Lord is far from the wicked, but the prayer of the just he hears." ~s On the other hand He draws near to the good, the persecuted, and the humble. "I am attacked by malicious persecutors," re-marks the Psalmist, "who are far from your law. You, O Lord, are near." ~9 Though He dwells in the heavens, yet God is somehow especially with the afflicted. There is a glimmering of some special presence, but it is not yet clear: "On high I dwell, and in holiness, and with the crushed and dejected in spirit." e0 The Servant of the Lord himself has God near him in His trials: "He is near who upholds my right . See, the Lord God is my help." ex In an exquisite passage we are told of the gentle, kindly, good-giving presence of the Lord to those who love Him. "The eyes of the Lord are upon those who love him; he is their mighty shield and strong support, a shelter from the heat, a shade from the noonday sun, a guard against stum-bling, a help against falling. He buoys up the spirits, brings a sparkle to the eyes, gives health and life and blessing." 02 Ex 25:8[. See Ex cc. 25-7. Ps 9B:I. Ps 137:6. Prv 15:29. Ps 118:150f. Is 57:15. Is 50:8[. See also Wis 6:19 and Zeph 3:2. Sir 34:16[. It was natural, therefore, to seek the Lord when He was near and to ask for the divine presence. "Seek the Lord while he may be found, call him while he is near." es "But you, 0 Lord, be not far from me; 0 my help, hasten to aid me." ~ Perhaps at once the most homely and the most touching illustration of what we are saying is the account in Exodus of Moses' familiarity with God. We are told that the Lord would speak to His servant fate to face, as familiarly as one man speaking to another~ In one of these conversatibns Moses dares to remind this mighty Lord that He has al-ready called him an intimate friend who hhd found the divine favor. So intimate are these two that the puny man dares to bargain with Yahweh. "If you are not going your-self (with us), do not make us go up from here," argues Moses, "for how can it be known that we, your people and I, have found favor with you, except by your going with us?" Kather than crush this Israelite as a brash upstart laying down conditions for the Almighty, the Lord gently responds that "this request, too, which you have just made, I will carry out, because you have found favor with me and you are my intimate friend." es Divine Familiarity Even though Moses was an entirely special intimate with the Lord God, this loving Protector wished an as-tonishing familiarity with each individual among His chosen people. He desired to be personally close to them. He wanted their love, confidence, yearning, delight. He was preparing them for the disclosure of the indwelling presence of the yet unrevealed Trinity. I. Mutual Love Theme The most. basic of the biblical God-and-man relation-ships is love, mutual love. The loving kindness characteri-zation of God in His merciful dealings with His human children occurs.in the Old Testament many more times than we should care to count. And the occurrences are strongly worded. Because the skies seem limitless in ex-panse, the Hebrew sees in them an image of the gentleness of his God: "O Lord, your kindness reaches to heaven; your faithfulness, to the clouds . How precious is your kindness, O God." ~ His goodness shows itself in many ways, but one of the most touching is His fatherly for-giveness. "Guide me in your truth and teach me," confides the Psalmist, "for you are God my savior, and for you e~ Is 55:6. e~ Ps 21:20. ~ Ex 33:7-19. ee Ps 35:6,8. 4. 4. 4. Indwelling God VOLUME 26, 1967 221 + 4. Thomas Duboy, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I wait all the day. Remember that your.compassion, 0 Lord, and your kindness are from old. The sins of my youth and my frailties remember not; in you.r kindness remember me, because of your goodness, 0 Lord." e¢ This gentle God wanted the Hebrews to know of His desire to be intimate with them and of the great love He bore toward them, and so He plainly opened His heart and told them so. So dose is this familiarity with Israel, too, that He uses marital love to illustrate it. "For he who has bec6me your husband is your Maker.E9r a brief moment I abandoned you, but with great tenderness I will take you back . With enduring love I take pity on you,, says the Lord, your redeemer." es So touching is this divine love for man and the consequent .closeness of God to man, that He takes man in His arms, draws him on with a' kind of human affeddon, fondles him like a child at His cheeks: "It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, who took them in my arms; I drew them with human cords, with bands of love; I fostered them like one who raises an infant to his cheeks. Yet, though I stooped to feed my child, they did not know that I was their healer . How could I give you up, O Ephraim? . My hear~ is overwhelmed, my pity is stirred." 69 Rightly may this tender God who stoops to man declare "with age-old love I ha~e loved you." T0 Rightly, too, does the Book of Wisdom ascribe love as the reason for the divine activity of creation and conservation and speak of God's spirit as being in all things: "You love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for what you hated, you would not have fashioned. And how could a thing remain, unless you willed it; or be preserved, had it not been called forth by You? But you spare all things, because they are yours, O Lord and lover of souls, for your imperishable spirit is in all things." ~1 While there is in these texts no clear affirmation of God's special indwelling.in those He loves, there is an un-mistakable revelation of a love whose consequence is an intimacy and closeness indicated by the images and expres-sions used: finding favor,.intimate friend, taking back with great tenderness, enduring love, embracing man in the divine arms and fondling him at the divine cheeks, the divine heart overwhelmed, age-01d love, lover of souls who is in all things. This divine love theme is surely only one step removed from the new dispensation revelation that this God dwelis in man's soul as in a temple. Yet w~ have not finished with the ancient revelation. We ~ Ps 24:5-7. ~ Is 54:5,7f. e, Hos 11:3f.,8. ~o Jet 31:3. ,a Wis 11:24-12:1. have said that the theme is mutual love, not merely love. Not only does God overflow with an amazing love for His human children, but they in turn are to love Him in an entire surrender. This man-for-God love we shall see in the gospel as a condition for the indwelling presence of the Trinity, and so we may not omit to notice how the Old Testament prepares for this aspect of the mystery. Early in the Hebrew revelation was the love-command given. And it was given with an unusual solemnity, a total wholeness, a remarkable insistence. Hear, O Israeli The Lord is our God, the Lord alonel There-fore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into.your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates (Dr 6:4-9). Although Deuteronomy does not tell us, as the Word will later explain, that this is the greatest of all command-ments, the author does make clear its centrality by the ex-pressions he uses: take to heart, I enjoin on you, drill into your children, speak at home and abroad, bind on the wrist, hang from the forehead, write on the doorposts. Man's love for God is indeed crucial for his spiritual life. Such being the case, we would expect the proliferation of love protestations throughout the Old Testament, but we do not find them. This is strange only on first sight. A man declares his love for his wife and a mother for her children in many ways besides the plain expression: "I love you." So also the Jew protests his love for God in his countless expressions of wonder and praise for the divine goodness, kindness, mercy, power, and wisdom scattered especially throughout the Psalter. Yet there are not lacking either the simple acts of ex-plicit love. The Psalmist exclaims and wonders at the goodness of God and then commands the love man should have for Him: "How great is the goodness, O Lord, which you have in store for those who fear you . Love the Lord, all you his faithful onest" 72 And the faithful Hebrew does use the simple "I love you" expression to-ward his Lord: "I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer." 7a He loves so much that he weeps when he sees men neglect the divine law. "My eyes shed streams of tears because your law has not been kept.'.' 34 He loves the very house of God. "O Lord, I ~ Ps 30:20,24. ~ Ps 17:2f. ~Pa 118:136. + 4. lnd~ell~ng God VOLUME 26, 1.967 225 love the house in which you dwell, the tenting place of your glory." ~ There was, then, a clear intimacy of mutual love be-tween God and man in the Old Testament. Although it had not yet blossomed forth into the indwelling revela-tion, it prepared the Hebrew mind and heart to accept it easily and almost to expect that the next step in the divine condescension would be some more intimate union. Espe-cially is this true when the mutual love theme is taken together with the others we find in the sacred pages.~e 2. Tender Concern Theme Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Solicitude is born of love. If God has for men the almost incredible love that we have just considered, we are not surp.rised to find that even He, the entirely self-sufficient One, has a remarkably, tender concern for them. We are not attempting now to understand the mystery, but only to realize it. Why this divine Father should be so solicitous toward us is one thing; that He is, is another. ~vVe wish to note here another preparation for the indwelling mystery: God's stooping down to and embracing the men He loves. This tender concern theme in the Old Testament is a preparation [or the indwelling mystery for three reasons. First of all, affectionate concern is a concrete way of in-dicating closeness to a person, just as willed indifference makes men feel miles apart from one another even though physically they may be in the same room. Secondly, one who is concerned about another is close by at least with. a nearness of knowledge. Hence, when God tells the Hebrews that He watches their every step, He is telling them not only that Heis deeply interested in them but also that He is near in His omniscience. Thirdly, the very images the Holy Spirit uses to illustrate the divine solici-tude are images of nearness: a father carrying his son, the Lord keeping His little ones, the mother remembering the child of her womb. The sacred pages are touchingly human in their por-trayal of the divine tenderness toward mankind. To allay Israel's fear of the Amorites God harkens back to the paternal affection He showed them in the desert: "You saw how the Lord, Your God, carried you, as a man carries his child, all along your journey until you arrived at this place." ~z The divine care extends to the least of men's activities: "His eyes are upon the ways of man, and ~ Ps 25:8. ~ Additional instances of this love theme can be found through-out the Old Testament: Ps 17:20; 85:5,11f.015; 9:2f; 102:8010-14,17; 118:64,97,113,127,159,167; 134:3; Pry 8:17; Is 66:13; Jer 31:407-901M; Hos 14:5; Zeph 3:17. ~Dt 1:31. he beholds all his steps." ~s God is so dose to the goodman that "he watches over all his bones; not one of them shall be broken." 79 In some peculiar manner He is near the suffering: "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves." so It is not sur-prising, then, that in his bitter afflictions the Psalmist dares to ask this Lord of his: "Renew your benefits toward me, and comfort me over and over," sl a request, indeed, that only an intimate friend would make. So good is He that even a mother's love is an inadequate image of His. She may forget the chi.'Id of her womb, she may even at times be without tenderness for her babe, but the Lord God will never forget His children; never will He lack tenderness in His concern for them.s~ When God emphatically wished the Jews never to forget a truth or an event, He commanded them to have it as a sign on their hands and a reminder on their foreheads. Thus upon giving the words of the great commandment of total love for God He admonishes His people: "Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead." s~ It is significant, therefore, that He uses this very custom to indicate His greater-than-a-mother's remembrance: "See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name." 84 This God is indeed a close-by God. A tender, loving God. 3. Sure Refuge Theme Tender concern on the part of one begets a sure con-fidence on the part of another. If God is a father who never forgets, man must be a son who never fails to seek refuge in Him. The bearing of this theme on the indwelling of the Trinity is obvious. We are getting still closer, for man is now plunging himself into God. The Hebrew is not yet aware of the New Testament theme, but he is near to his Lord under whose wings he finds a secure shelter. This theme of man plunging himself into the sure safety of his Lord God finds expression in a rich diversity of imagery. For man God is a rock, a fortress, a stronghold, a ~ Jb 34:21. ** Ps 33:21. s0 Ps 33:19. st Ps 70:21. m Is 49:15. ~ Dt 6:7f. The same admonition is given regarding the remem-brance of the exodus from Egypt (Ex 13:9,16). ~ Is 49:16. Other instances of the tender concern theme may be found in Ps 115:12; 144:9; Ct passim; IS 5:1-4; 46:3f; 49:13; 55:1-3; Ez 16:14; 34:11-5; Za 2:12. 4- + 4- Indwelling God 225 salvation, a refuge. The ruggedness of this rock-God metaphor is balanced by the coziness of warm wings and the refreshment of a cool stream. All this is Yahweh to the man who will cast himself into the divine goodness,s~ The closeness and familiarity of the Jewish trust in God is splendidly brought out in Psalm 72. We ask the reader to note the seven different affirmations in which the divine nearness is indicated. "'Yet with you I shall always be; you have hold of my right hand; with your counsel you guide me, and in the end you will receive me in glory. Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever. For indeed, they who withdraw [rora you perish; you destroy everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge." so One would be reading too much into the text to see in this passage an awareness in the Psalmist of the indwelling presence, but the several expressions we have italicized surely offer a basis for seeing a remarkable awareness of God's closeness to man and the latter's familiarity with his Creator.sv ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoraas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4. Yearning for God Theme In itself yearning does not cause presence, at least among creatures, but when achievement of presence is possible and feasible, yearning inevitably issues in union. It is diffi-cuh to say just what sort of union with God the Hebrew was seeking in his ardent longings for his Rock and Deliverer and God. Perhaps we should not even ~aise the problem, for the Hebrew hardly thought in terms of distinguishing kinds of presence and union. He simply longed for God, and longed with a burning desire. For our purposes we may be content with the double realization that in itself this yearning eventually issues in presence and that on this score the ancient dispensation is once again a smooth preparation for the new. Thronghou t the sacred pages the Hebrew is admonished to seek, to desire, to yearn after the Lord God, for it is in so longing that he can attain fulfillment and the very divine presence. When the Lord is to scatter His people among the nations He leaves them the precept: "Yet there too you shall seek the Lord, your God; and you shall in-deed find him when you search after him with your whole heart and your whole soul." ss This same message the Holy s~ Ps 30:2-4,6; 61:7-9; 35:8f. s~ Ps 72:23--8. *zSee also Ps 54:23; 90:1-,t,9-11; 94:!; Sir 34:16f; Wis 19:22. ,s Dt 4:29. Spirit transmits to Jeremiah for his exiled people: "When you call me, when you go to pray to me, I will listen to you. When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you, says the Lord." so Among the items of advice Jerusalem gives her captive children is the admonition that they turn to seek their God with a tremendous vehemence: "As your hearts have been disposed to stray from God, turn now ten times the more to seek him; for he who has brought disaster upon you will, in saving you, bring you back enduring joy." 90 And the Lord Himself wants His people to open wide the mouth of their desires, for it is on that condition that He wills to fulfill their needs: "I, the Lord, am your God who led you forth from the land of Egypt; open wide. your mouth, and I will fill it." 91 The Psalmist invites us to give thanks for the wondrous kindness of the Lord, "because he satisfied the longing soul and filled the hungry soul with good things." 03 If, then, one who seeks the Lord with his whole heart will find Him present,93 and this Lord wants the seeking to yearn with an open mouth and ten times more vehe-mently than their straying, we may conclude that the deeper the longing on man's part the more intimate the coming on God's part. Did the Hebrews learn this lesson? Did they burn in yearning for the Lord God? It would seem so. We feel that the ardor of the Hebrews' longing for God as portrayed in the Psalter is so remark-able that it cannot be explained on any natural basis. To us it is a singular indication of the supernatural character of the divine interventions in Israel. In an extraordinary spirit of detachment the Hebrew is able to exclaim: "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord and con-template his temple." 94 Dwelling with God is the vehe-ment longing of the Psalmist: "How lovely is your dwell-ing place, O Lord of hostsl My soul yearns and pines for the courts of the Lord. My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God . I had rather one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere. I had rather lie at the thresh-old of the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked." 95 The extraordinary character of this Hebrew desire for Jer 29:12-4. Bar 4:28f. Ps 80:11. Ps 106:9. Jer 29:12-4. Ps 26:4. Ps 83:2f.o11. ÷ + Indwelling God VOLUME ~'6, 3.96"/ 22? God and His presence is brought out by the strong words used to translate it: yearn, pine, cry out, long, athirst, gaze toward, gasp with open mouth. The beauty of the passages in which these longings are expressed merit careful medita-tion. "As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God. Athirst is my soul fO~ God, the living God. When shall I go and behold tile face of God?" 98 "O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh l~ines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water. Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary to see your power and your glory, for your kindness is a greater good than life." 9¢ "I gasp with open mouth in my yearning for your commands." 9s "I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like parched land." 99 While this eagerness for God does not indicate an appreciation of an indwelling presence, like the other themes we have i~lready noticed it is an ideal preparation for the new dispensation and its revelation of God's familiarity with man. 5. Delightful Rest in God Theme Man is present, intimately present, to that in which he rests. He is present, too, in a vital way to that in which he fully delights. The theme of refuge in God's protection together with a gladness and joy in His surrounding presence is indicated in the Psalmist's invitation addressed to all who take their refuge in the Lord that they be glad and exult in Him, for He is joy to those who love Him.100 When the Hebrew is sad, God is afar off, but when "he can come near to his Maker heis glad and joyful.101 The Lord has only to let the light of His countenance shine upon man's soul to bring to it gladness, peace, and security::°2 This God is so good, and seemingly so dose, that man can somehow experience His sweetness: "Look to him that you may be radiant, with joy . Taste and see how good the Lord is; happy the man who takes refuge in him:" x0a While these two statements do not speak of an indwelling, they come as close as words can to indicating God's immediate pres.ence to man. One cannot taste what is distant from him. 4" 4- 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 228 ~ Ps 41 ~ Ps 62:2-4~ ~ Ps 118:131. ~Ps 142:6. See also Ps 118:10020,81,145,174; Pry 28:5; Ezr 6:21; 7:10; 8:22; Ct 3:2; Wis 6:11; Is 51:1; Dn 3:41; Hos 3:5; 5:15; 10:12; Amos 5:4,6; Zeph 2:3; Za 8:21f. 1~0 Ps 5:12f. ~ Ps 42:2-5. ~1o~ P Pss 43~:7:6-,99. Even a man who has sinned grievously can regain the presence of God and enjoy his Savior: "Cast me not out from your presence, and your holy spirit take not from me. Give me back the joy of y6ur salvation, and a willing spirit sustain in me." 104 We may be tempted to see an implicit recognition of the divine presence in the soul contained in the last phrase, since to sustain man's spirit within him God must be there. Yet, while this inference is valid, we do not believe that the Psalmist was, thinking of it. The :communication between God and the soul is brought out in all of its rich personal relationships under the images of a well spread banquet, exultation, night watching, winged protection, a clinging fast: "As with the riches of a banquet shall my soul be satisfied (with God), and with exultant lips my mouth shall praise you. I will remember you upon my couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you: that you are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. My soul clings fast to you." lo5 This delightful rest in God, this joy-full closeness to Him is to be man's lot forever: "You~will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever." ~08 We are surely now less than a step away from the indwelling presence and its beatifying con-sequences: "The just live forever, and in the Lord is their recompense, and the thought of them is with the Most High. Therefore shall they receive the splendid Crown, the beauteous diadem, from the hand of the Lord--for he shall shelter them with his right hand." ~07 If man's joy is in the Lord God, if he is destined to possess a life of delights in ~the divine presence, if his reward is to live in the Lord and thus have his crown for-ever, it follows that man's heart has only one goal, one destination, one resting place. "Only in God is my soul at rest; from him comes my salvation." 10s The absoluteness of this statement is striking. Even shocking. To say in God only is man's rest is to say that the human heart is weary and disturbed and discontent until it dwells somehow in its Creator. Nothing on earth can s.atisfy or calm it. Noth-ing. Perhaps this is why St. Paul will later admonish us to "rejoice in the Lord always," 109 and the Master Himself will say "these things I have spoken to you that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full." ~o In any event there is implied in these words, "only in God," an :o~ Ps 50:lM. m Ps 62:6-9. ~oo Ps 15:11. lo~ Wis 5:15f. raps 61:2. Other references to man's delight in God may be found in Ps 103:35f; 118:14-6o24,35A7,70,72,92,105; 16:15. ~ Phll 4:4. mjn 15:11. 4. 4. ÷ Indwelling God VOLUME 26, 1967 Thomas Dubay, $.M. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 utter detachment, and so later in the Psalm comes the, logicaLadmonition: "Only in God be at rest, my soul." 111 The next development in closeness could scarcely be anything but the indwelling itself. Summary Any attempt to schematize divine freedom in revealing to a culturally rude people so sublime and mysterious a doctrine as the presence of God to man must labor under a degree of artificiality. We feel, nonetheless, that a sub-stantially accurate and a considerably helpful pattern can be provided. Looking back upon the salient steps in the divine preparation--but without any pretense of indicating a set chronology--we find that God did condition and dis-pose the minds of His people by several distinct doctrinal themes, themes that marvelously paved the way for their acceptance of the trinitarian indwelling of the new dis-pensation. These themes touched upon every important manner of divine closeness short of the Trinity's inbeing. There was the natural omnipresence through immensity, a some-what impersonal presence common to all things that are, living and dead, rational and irrational. There was the omnipresence through omniscience, a decidedly personal matter, for it was usually spoken of in connection with God's knowledge of man, his every step, his every thought, his every desire. Then there were the special divine pres-ences among the chosen people, in the holy city, in the Temple, on the ark of the covenant. Certain men, more-over, enjoyed a divine closeness that rather obviously was more than a spatial or local matter. They were intimates of God. Finally, we have the divine-human familiarity themes: mutual love, tender concern, sure refuge, ardent longing, delightful rest. It is obvious upon a modicum of reflection that philosophy could never have dreamed of so touching a set of God-and-man relationships, relationships so beauti-ful, so sublime, so divine that'0nly the revealing heart of God could have told of them. They bring us to the very threshold of the indwelling mystery. The stag~ is set for the Word to reveal it. (to be continued) m Ps 61:6. PAUL H1NNEBUSCH, O.P. The Signs of the Times and Epikeia "The Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting them in the light of the Gospel." With these words, Vatican II in-troduces the introductory statement of the Pastoral Con-stitution on the Church in the Modern World. The Church must ever be up-to-date, keenly aware of the contemporary situation, understanding the world of the here and now--its needs, its hopes, its expectations--so that in language intelligible to the contemporary men-tality, "she can respond to the perennial questions which men are asking about this present life and the life to come" (CMW, ~(4). The world of today, however, is changing so pro-foundly and with such bewildering rapidity and is be-coming so exceedingly complex that much of mankind is hopelessly confused. "Influenced by such a variety of complexities," says Vatican II, "many of our contempo-raries are kept from accurately identifying permanent val-ues and adjusting them properly to fresh discoveries. As a result, buffeted between hope and anxiety, and pressing one another with questions about the present course of events, they are burdened down with uneasiness" (CMW, ~ 4). What is the remedy for this anxiety and uneasiness, this inability accurately to identify perm~inent values? In our day, perhaps as never before, even the most sacred of values are being questioned. Even in religious life, affected by the spirit of the times, we detect much in-security and inability to distinguish the permanent from the ephemeral, the absolute from the relative. And yet, religious, as servants of the Church's mission of salvation, should be among the leaders in the Church's work of in-terpreting the signs of the times in the light of the Gospel and of "accurately identifying permanent values and ad-justing them to fresh discoveries." ÷ Paul Hinne-busch, O.P., writes from Rosaryville; Ponchatoula, Loui-siana 70454. VOLUME 26, 1967 REVIEW FOR RELIGXOUS To direct religious in their share in this task, the Coun-cil laid down guidelines in the Decree on Adaptation and Renewa! o~ t~eligiou~ "LiJe. This document reasserts all the permanent values of religious life which have been called into question, and gives principles for adapting them to the world today: But knowledge of basic values and of principles is not enough; much more is needed. There is a special virtue-- we might call it a crisis virtue--which forms in us right attitudes and correct procedures for dealing unerringly with swiftly changing times and situations. This crisis virtue is epikeia. Epikeia is a firm will to act according to the intentions of the lawgiver, for the common good, in those cases where following the letter of the law would harm the common good, or in those cases where the law does not adequately cover a situation. In a world which is changing with such bewildering rapidity, religious are certain to run into frequent situa-tions which are not covered by existing laws. They will discover that they are no longer equipped with a set of laws capable of directing their actions in practically any situation in which they find themselves; for a profoundly changing world has produced situations of which no: one could ever have dreamed when their existing legislation was drawn up. Nor should confused young religious too severely con-demn their elders for not adapting their life sooner to modern times. Even if their superiors had been the most alert people on earth, they still could hardly have kept abreast of the times, because the changes have taken place in the world with such explosive rapidity. The great problem therefore is: What does one do when old laws and procedures and customs are no help, but seem to be even a hindrance in a new situation? What is to be our guide while we are waiting for our laws to be revised and adapted to the times in accordance with the will of the Council? What will guarantee that we will make the right adaptations and not bungle the work of revision? And even when the revision has .been completed, how can. renewal "be encouraged in a continuing way" (ESr 19)? What will prevent legislation from again becom-ing ossified? The answer to all these problems is the virtue of epikeia. This virtue, we said, more badly needed than ever, will give us certain basic attitudes and manners of pro-ceeding in cases in which existing laws are no help. Epikeia received little attention in the oxcart days, when life was so leisurely that it changed less in the course of five centuries than it now changes in the course of five years. In those days of little change, existing laws were usually quite adequate to govern most of our actions, and so Lady Epikeia did not have too much work to do. But in our times, she will have to be one of the busiest of all virtues. Therefore we need to be introduced to her, if she has not yet been formed in our lives. Who is this Lady Epikeia? The Greeks gave this virtue her name. Aristotle knew her well and even described her for us. Thomas Aquinas drew her portrait clearly in two articles in the Summa (2-2, q.120). Yet she is practically unknown to most of us, and the average English diction-ary does not even carry her name. Since her task is so crucial in our present crisis, her name "epikeia" ought to be granted full citizenship in our language and inscribed in the rolls of citizenship~our dictionaries. But above all, the idea expressed in this word should take its right-ful place in our moral thinking, so that we may carefully cultivate the virtue it signifies. She is already slightly known in English as "equity," but this word carries many legalistic connotations. That is why we suggest that we take over officially her Greek name, "epikeia." What then is epikeia, and how do we acquire it and exercise it? Epil~e. ia" s .Family In the kingdom of the virtues, ruled by Queen Charity, Lady Epikeia belongs to the noble family of justice. Her name, however, seems at first sight to deny these family ties, for it is made up of two Greek words which mean, "above what is just." Does she belong, then, to a more noble family than justice? No, her name merely means that she is an elder sister of legal justice. "Epikeia does not set aside what is just in itself, but that which is just as by law established" (Summa, 2-2, q.120, a.1, ad 1). Legal justice acts according to law, epikeia acts when the law is inadequate in achieving justice in a particular situation. When many human beings live and work together, their relationships need to be regulated by law, which directs all their actions in an orderly way to the common good. Anyone who truly loves his fellowmen loves the common good; and consequently, in charity he willingly follows the direction of law in achieving that common good. Legal justice, the virtue which prompts one to live willingly according to law in order to achieve the common good, is therefore an expression of charity. But laws regulate human actions, and since human actions are contingent upon circumstances and no two situations are ever quite alike, human actions are innumer-able in their diversity. Therefore, it is not possible to lay down rules of law which apply in every single case. Legisla-tors in framing laws attend to what commonly happens. For though it is true that each situation is unique in some ÷ ÷ VOLUME 26, 3.967 + ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REV1EWFOR RELIGIOUS details, it is true on the other hand that varying situations do have a great deal in common, and so workable laws can be made to direct human actions to the good of the whole community. Ordinarily, therefore, human actions according to law bring order and justice into human re-lationships. When Epil~eia Works But now and then there are unusual situations in which action according to the letter of the law would defeat the intention or spirit of the law and harm the common good which the law intends to establish. "For example, the law requires deposits to be restored, because in the majority of cases this is just. Yet it happens to be injurious some-times; for instance, if a madman were to put his sword in deposit, and demand its delivery while in a state of mad-ness, or if a man were to seek the return of his deposit in order to fight against his country. In these and like cases, it is bad to follow the law, and it is. good to set aside the letter of the law and to follow the dictates of justice and the common good. This is the task of epikeia, which we call equity" (ibid., a.1). It is clear, then, that in all ordinary cases, the virtue of legal justice, inspiring human action according to the law, guarantees the justice required for the common good. But epikeia, the sister of legal justice, takes over in extraor-dinary cases, where the law defeats its own purpose or is an inadequate guide because it did not foresee certain situations. In our unsettled, rapidly changing times, the extraor-dinary cases---those in which the law is inadequate-- have become much more frequent, and therefore epikeia will have to work overtime until laws have been revised to take care of all the new kinds of situations which now arise. It is very important, then, that we become better acquainted and more intimate with this virtue. She works, we said, only in the situations where the letter of the law is inadequate. Epil~eia" s First Characteristic Exactly how does epikeia work? When a particular law does not cover a situation, epikeia acts according to a higher principle, namely, the intention of the lawgiver. She considers carefully what goals the lawmaker had in mind in making the laws; then she wisely plans her action in this situation in such a way that she will effectively achieve these same goals, fulfilling the purpose of the law without the help of law. For example, when Lady Epikeia is a Dominican and finds herself in a new situation where her Dominican constitutions or customs have no law covering the cast,., then she must ask herself, or the superiors whom she should consult if possible should ask themselves, how would our father and lawgiver St. Dominic act in this case? Epikeia, whether of the superior or of the subject, can answer this question only if she is very intimately and lovingly acquainted with St. Dominic and his spirit and ideals and the specific goals which, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he has set for the order. Such loving knowledge is an indispensable part of Dominican epikeia. This is why Vatican II in its decree on religious life lays down as a basic principle of adaptation the necessity of maintaining the specific spirit and goals of each re-ligious congregation. Revision of laws will be prudent and correct only to the extent that the revised laws effec-tively embody the spirit and achieve the goals of the founder in the contemporary situation. Or again, this is why the Council devoted so large a part of the decree on religious life to reasserting the permanent values of religious life, listing, for example, in paragraph five what all religious institutes have in common. In giving the evangelical counsels, Christ the Lawgiver set these changeless goals for religious, and the Church made them more explicit in legislating practical ways of living them, intending that they be achieved in the specific way outlined by each religious founder. Epikeia in making adaptations to changing times must ardently love these goals and intentions of Christ and the original lawgivers and find effective ways of achieving them in modern situations. Christian epikeia, then, re-quires that one have what St. Paul calls "the mind of Christ" (1 Cot 2:16), and this is possible only if one has the Holy Spirit of Christ. We shall return to this idea. The first characteristic of epikeia, then, is a sincere will to fulfill the intentions of the lawgiver, inspired by a great love of the well-being of the community and of the Church. The religious lawgiver always intends the com-mon good of the community and of the Church. Epikeia Respects Legal Justice In admiring the beauty of epikeia, we must beware of slighting her sister, legal justice. Epikeia, we said, is often a crisis virtue. But when, with her help, laws have been revised to fit the new times, then legal justice will take over again, achieving the common good intended by the lawgiver by inspiring action according to the new laws. Let us examine more closely the sisterly relationship o[ these two virtues, lest we ever succumb to the temptation to pretend we are exercising epikeia, when in reality we are trying to get out of fulfilling the letter of the law which ought to be fulfilled in legal justice. "Epikeia," we said, means "above the just," the just as VOLUME 26, 1967 4. Paul Hinnebusch, .O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS prescribed by law. It would seem, then, at first sight that epikeia gives greater freedom than her sister legal justice who always lives 'according to the law. But this is not so; legal justice is every bit as free as epikeia. Legal justice is not the slave known as legalism. Legalism is a vice mas-querading as the virtue legal justice. True legal justice is free, for she is ever inspired by love, love of the common good of the community, into which she brings peace and order with the help of law. In her .ardent,love for the common good, legal justicei is just like her sister epikeia, They are true sisters in-deed, very much of one mind and one heart. They are social vir(ues, very community-minded, working for the common good, though in differing ways. That is why they are such ideal handmaids 6f Queen Charity. Charity in her love of all mankind knows that she must foster the good of all, and this good can be achieved only with thei help of justice, in the harmony of a well-ordered com-munity. Legal justice, inspired by charity in living ac-cording to the law, ordinarily does a beautiful job in. maintaining the just order, in which alone community love can thrive. Epikeia, we said, works for exactly, the same goal, though in different circumstances. When the letter of the law defeats its own purpose, we said, epikeia acts according to the true spirit of the law by fulfilling the intentions of the lawgiyer. But legal jugtice also acts' according to the spirit ofl the law in carrying out the letter. For she is not legalism, who sometimes carries out the letter contrary to the spirit. "Without doubt he transgresses the law 'who by adhering' to the letter of the law strives to defea( the intention of the lawgiv~r"*($urnrna, 2-2, q.120, a.1, ad 1). An example of this would be the religious who insists on his rights prescribed by law, even though the apostolate suffers. ~ Action according to the letter of the law is virtuous only when~ Such action fulfills the intention and the spirit' of the lawgiver. But most of the time the lettdr Of the 'law adequately manifests this intention of the lawgiver and therefore the letter can be ftilfilled in the spirit. When a law adeqdately covers a situation and effectively leads to the common good intended by the lawmaker,th~n the in- .tention and the spirit of the law is best achieved precisely in carrying out the letter. This is the role of legal justice and is rio place' for epikeia. Epikeia must never be pre-tended as an excuse to escape the letter of the law when the letter ought to be observed, and especially, when law-ful authority insists upon the letter. Sinc6, then, legal justice is truly a virtue and not a masqudrader, she ever acts in the true spirit, and pre-cisely by carrying out the letter. For love--love.of the common good--transforms observance of the letter ofthe law from mere legalism into a beautiful virtue, legal justice, handmaid and expression of charity. Only in those cases where the letter of the law clearly defeats the intention of the lawgiver does legal justice step aside so that her sister epikeia may find a course of action in full accord with the intention of the lawgiver. Epikeia Is Not Vitiated by Selfishness Although a sincere love of the intention of the law-giver is an essential characteristic of epikeia, this in it-self is not enough for her perfection. One needs in addi-tion a mature unselfishness, lest one claim to be using epikeia when in reality one is only seeking an excuse for ignoring a law which hinders one's selfish goals. Both Saints Peter and Paul warn against using freedom from the law as a cloak for malice (1 Pt 2:16; Gal 5:13). A per-son can tell himself he is seeking the common good in justice inspired by charity. But the selfishness Still in him may lead him to misinterpret his mere personal advantage as though it were for the common good of all. We see, then, the danger of too easily claiming that a law does not apply in a case and pretending to be practic-ing epikeia in acting apart from the law. One of the great blessings of law is the fact that it points out the paths which save us from mere self-seeking; a willing con-formity to law mortifies one's selfish tendencies. It is obvious, then, that one needs a rather high degree of all the moral virtues before he can safely exercise epikeia entirely on his own. Ordinarily, because of the danger of selfishness creeping in, one should take counsel with wiser heads than his own, and the normal person with whom to take this counsel is the superior, the one who has the care of the common good. Epikeia is not a substitute for true obedience; epikeia cannot act contrary to the expressed will of a superior unless one has solid evidence that the command of the superior is sinful. We hear only too frequently these days of religious masquerading their disobedience as though it were epikeia, claiming that their conscience tells them they must not obey in this situation, or that this or that constitution does not apply here and now. Obedience too belongs to the justice family, and has good sisterly relations with epikeia. Together they are concerned about the common good intended by the law-giver, which is also the concern of all right exercise of authority. Since ordinarily the intention of the lawgiver finds its best expression in the law and in government according to the law, conscience must ordinarily form it-self according to law and authority, and an appeal to conscience in countering these can proceed only from a genuine epikeia with an absolutely sincere love of the in-÷ ÷ VOLUME 26, 1967 tention of the lawgiver, unvitiated by pride or sensuality of any kind. "You have been called to liberty, brethren," says St. Paul; "only do not use liberty as an occasion for sensuality, but by charity serve one another" (Gal 5:13). Epikeia and the Holy Spirit Epikeia, finally but most importantly, is attentive not only to the intention of human lawgivers, but above all seeks ever the intentions of the divine Lawgiver. One's epikeia is not Christian unless one acts according to what St. Paul calls "the mind of Christ." Only a few lines be-fore, the Apostle had called such a one a "spiritual man," contrasting him with what he calls "the natural man, who does not grasp the secrets of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him" (1 Cot 2:14). The spiritual man is he who is led by the Holy Spirit to a penetration of the divine purposes in our regard. "No one comprehends the secret things of God except the Spirit of God. But we. have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit proceeding from God" (I Cor 2:11-2). Only under the living guidance of the Holy Spirit can. we accurately scrutinize the signs of the times and inter-pret them in the light of the Gospel. For although in the Bible God has revealed to us the Good News and the overall plan of salvation, the details of the continuing working out of salvation until the end of time are still in large measure hidden and are being unfolded to us only gradually. One of the chief ways in which God manifests the directions in which He is leading his people is that of the "signs of the times" (Mr 6:13). "The signs of the times" in the biblical sense of the term are the current events of history in which God is giving signs of whither he is leading His people. Vatican II declares: The People of God believes that it is led by the Lord's Spirit, who fills the earth. Motivated by this faith, it labors to decipher authentic signs of God's presence and purpose in the happenings, needs and desires in which this People has a part' along with the other men of our age. For faith throws a new light on everything, manifests God's design for man's total vocation, and thus directs the mind to solutions which are fully human (CMW, ~ 11). ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 238 Ours, then, is a living God, ever active in His universe, ever Lord of history, even in these bewildering times in which so many of our contemporaries can no longer dis: tinguish permanent values. Just as the Spirit of Yahweh moved over primeval chaos and brought order into it, so the Holy Spirit who has been breathed upon us by Christ is renewing the face of the earth, accomplishing the purposes of divine love. Just as in the Babylonian exile God was fashioning the holy remnant into a spirit- ual Israel according to His own heart, so in the trials of our times He is purifying a people acceptable to Him. Christian epikeia must ever be attentive to discern these workings of God in the seeming chaos where old patterns of law and custom do not seem to work. But only those who have "the mind of Christ" can discern these things. One does not have Christian epikeia to the extent that he does not have "the mind of Christ," and he does not have the mind of Christ to the extent that the work-ings of the Holy Spirit are hampered in him by disorderly emotion, willful ignorance, pride, bad will. One who does not consistently practice Christian mortification in these areas can hardly be a master in epikeia, for he is not open to the mind of Christ, the divine Lawgiver. Thus we have a supremely important characteristic of Christian epikeia: its attentiveness to the eternal Law-giver and Ruler of the universe, Christ the Lord. He rules us by His Holy Spirit, whose grace is the new law: "I will make a new covenant. I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts. I will put my Spirit within you and make you liveby my statutes" (Jer 31:31f; Ez 36:260. Christian epikeia is humble and won-derfully docile to the Holy Spirit; and we mean docility in the strong and vigorous sense manifest in the etymology of the word. The term docility derives from "docere," to teach. Docility is the virtue of one who is learning well; it is the active cooperation of a student with the teacher; it is alert receptiveness to enlightenment. Christian epikeia is ever awake to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, ever consulting the eternal Lawgiver and Ruler who "reacheth from end to end mightily and ordereth all things sweetly" (Wis 8:1), and receiving His gift of counsel whenever reason and even the light of faith are insufficient in charting a course where law is an inadequate gafide. The surest guarantee that we will ever be open to this divine light is sincere fidelity to conscience, seeking, like Christ, to do always the things that please the Father. We can please Him, however, only by working within the framework He has established for us; and this He has revealed to us in the word of revelation. This word is made alive and relevant for us only "under the action of the Holy Spirit" (Constitution on Divine Revelation, ~I0). The word of God is found in its fullness in sacred tradition, Sacred Scripture and the living teaching authority of the Church, which "are so linked and joined together that one cannot stand without the others, and all together and each in its own way under the ac-tion of the one Holy Spirit contributes effectively to the salvation of souls" (DR, ~ 10). "Thus God who spoke of old t~ninterruptedly converses with the bride o~ his be-÷ 4. VOLUME 26, 1967 ~9 Pau! H~nnebmch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 240 loved Son.Through the Holy Spirit. the living voice of the Gospel resounds in the Church" (DR, ~ 8). i It is clear, then, that the. interpretation of the signs of the times in the light of the gospel is impo.ssible except under the action of the Holy Spirit, to whom all who claim to be exercising epikeia must be closely attentive. And since the full gospel light, the fullness of the word, is. in tradition and in the teaching authority as one with the Sacred Scriptures, we see why Vatican II insists, in the Decree on Religious, that "the adaptation and renewal of religious life includes the constant return to the sources of all Christian life" (RL, ;~ 2). "Drawing therefore upon the authentic sources of Christian spirituality, mem-bers of religious communities should resolutely cultivate both the spirit and practice of prayer" (RL, ~ 6). In prayer 'we become alive to the Holy Spirit, who shows us in the authentic sources the light of the Gospel as it bears on present trends. Only in the light of the Gospel in the Church's ever-continuing tradition can we rightly interpret the present and extrapolate into the future, prudently revising our laws to meet what is ahead. For God's plan is one, unified, and the signs of the present times can be fully understood only in the light of what God has done in times past, for it is all the un-folding of one consistent work of salvation. I[ we religious are to make our contribution to the Church's work of helping the world solve its problems according to God's will for a better world, then under the action of the Holy Spirit, we must search into the sacred tradition and the present teaching of the Church--"the treasury out of which the Church continually brings forth new things that are in harmony with the things that are old" (RF, ~ 1). But at the same time, we must study the signs of the times. The Decree on Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life says: Institutes sh'ould promote among their members an ade- .quate knowledge of the social conditions of the times they live ~n, and of the needs of the Church. In such a way, judging current events wisely in "the light of faith, and burning with apostolic zeal, they may be able to assist men more effectively (~ 2, d). And in the paragraph on the formation of young religious, the Decree says: In order that the adaptation of religious life to the needs of our times may not be merely external and that those employed by rule in the active apostolate may be equal to theirtask, re-ligious must be given suitable instruction, depending on their intellectual capacity and personal talent, in the currents and attitudes of sentiment and thought prevalent in social life today. This education must blend its elements together har-moniously so that an interested life on the part of the religious concerned results (~ 18). We see, then, how precious a virtue is Christian epikeia,- with her attentiveness to the purposes of the divine Law-giver and ever-present Ruler, and her consequent ability to interpret the signs of the times in His divine light. Only a firm virtue of epikeia in those who revise laws will guarantee the proper revision, and only true epikeia will guarantee that in the meantime, before the revision is completed, superiors will make right decisions. Only epikeia will enable subjects to act rightly in those situa-tions when they are without either adequate law or direction of superiors. A person strong in epikeia never sits by helplessly, do-ing nothing, saying: "There is no law to cover the situa-tion; I don't know what to do." Epikeia meets the chal-lenge, assumes responsibility, finds and executes th~ right course of action. She is truly free and responsible. Our era, which prides itself on its concern for freedom and responsibility, should therefore acclaim Lady Epikeia's full citizenship in the kingdom of the virtues under Charity, Mother and Queen of all the virtues. VOLUME 26, 1967 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Religious Obedience in Vatican Council II Joseph F. Gallen, s.J., resides at St. Joseph's Church; 321 WiIlings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Obedience has been a constant topic in the renovation or renewal and adaptation of the religious life. There has been frequent mention of a crisis of obedience. Many cor-rected this to a crisis of authority. The correction should have been to a crisis of both obedience and authority. Both were in need of a clearer and more accurate under-standing, a deeper commitment in Christ, and an adapta-tion to modern demands and circumstances that did not destroy the spiritual patrimony of the past. In the renewal' and adaptation of the religious life, there can be matters in which we must start afresh, ignore the past, and begin anew; much more frequently and as a general norm, we shall clarify, reanimate, evolve, develop, and adapt the old. Vatican Council II stated: The adaptation and renewal of the religious life includes both the constant return to the sources of all Christian life and' to the original spirit of the institutes and their adaptation to the changed conditions of our time. (PC, n. 2) Unless the contrary is proved, the second approach should be followed in so fundamental a matter as authority and obedience. We shall discuss a few of the more or less new approaches to obedience before explaining the doctrine of Vatican Council II on religious obedience. It was my conviction that the thought of the Council~ + on obedience could not be confined to the sections on the + Church and religious but had to be complemented by a + study of all the conciliar documents. Therefore, conciliar statements pertinent to religious obedience have been cited from very many of the. documents. The following are the symbols adopted for the various documents in the order of their use: (PC) Per[ectae caritatis, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal o[ the Religious Li[e, (LG) Lumen gentium, Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, (GES) Gaudium et spes, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in 242 the Modern World, (AA) Apost61icam actuositatem, De- cree on the Apostolate ol the Laity, (PO) Presbyterorum ordinis, Decree on the Ministry and Life ol Priests, (AG) Ad genres, Decree on the Church's Missionary Activity, (DH) Dignitatis humanae, Declaration on Religious Free-dom, (CD) Christus Dominus, Decree on the Bishops" Pastoral Olfice in the Church, (OT) Optatam totius, De-cree on Priestly Formation, and (GE) Gravissimum educa-tionis, DeclaraHon on Christian Education. Some now conceive obedience as a commitment to a complete way of life. They woukl therefore include not only the personal authority-obedience relation of superior and subject but also the relation to the rule, which would comprise the Rule, constitutions, customs, practices, ob-servances, and ordinances of a chapter. Obedience may certainly be discussed in this more general sense, but the usual point of current discussion is the vow of obedience and the superior-subject relation. In approving constitu-tions, the Holy See has long defined the vow of obedience as follows: By the vow of obedience the religious consecrate to God their own will and oblige themselves from the virtue of re-ligion to obey the commands of their lawful superiors in everything that directly or indirectly concerns the observance of the vows, the Rule, and the constitutions. (RFR 25 [1966], 381, 4.32) The distinctive field of the vow is therefore the per-sonal authority of the superior. The Rule and constitu-tions oblige from the vow only through the precept of the superior; with the exception of a very few institutes, the Rule and'constitutions do not of themselves oblige in vir-tue of the vow (RFR, 19 [1960], 331-2); they may be ob-served from the motive and with the merit of the vow; they oblige of themselves as laws independently of the action of a superior; and I have never seen a precept of obedience in the constitutions of a lay congregation. It is obviously one thing to examine the content, prudence, and present effectiveness of the laws of a religious insti-tute and another to discuss the capabilities, prudence, and personal use of authority of superiors and interpersonal relations of superior and subject. This distinction is im-portant. If it is neglected, many defects will be imputed to the incompetence or misuse of authority by superiors when the defects actually are mainly or in great part in the Rule, constitutions, customs, practices, and ob-servances. They will be defects of laws rather than of superiors. This is true of such frequently mentioned mat-ters as the excessive number and details of regulations, immaturity, unreasonable restrictions of liberty, distance from people, over-protectionism, lack of trust, exclusion of initiative and responsibility, lack of a sense of the in. dividual, insufficient attention to personality develop- + 4. 4. Obedience VOLUME 26, 1967 24~ ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. F. Gallon, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ment, and failure to develop the natural harmoniously with the supernatural. Vatican Council II was aware of the difficulties in the laws of religious Institutes and stated: Therefore let constitutions, directories, custom books, books of prayers and ceremonies and such like be suitably reedited and, obsolete laws being suppressed, be adapted to the decrees of this Sacred Synod. (PC, n, A very frequent approach today is to emphasize that authority should be a service to religious (Mt 20:25-8; Mk 10:42-5).' It was often mentioned in the Council: For his part, as One who will render an account for the souls entrusted to him (see Heb 1~: 17), each superior should himself be docile to God's will in the exercise of his office. Let him use his authority in a spirit of service for the brethren, and mani-fest thereby the charity with which God loves them. (PC, n. 14) This is not a new idea. Even if we confine ourselves to the juridical foundation for authority, it would be a service. The reason for the existence of authority from this aspect is the necessity of the common good and therefore the furthering of the common good, which is certainly a service and to the whole community. Furthermore, hu-mility and self-denial are clearly virtues of universal ap-plication both with regard to persons and conduct. Pride and indulgence have not been considered allowable aber-rations in a religious superior. The "service" concept can readily be exaggerated. A servant does the will of the master, but we cannot hold that the duty of the superior is to do the will of the community. A superior serves and seeks the good of a community and its individual mem-bers by being, without pride or self-indulgence, their di-rective and governing force. The emphasis on the service aspect often at l~ast seems to connote that superiors have exercised their office and authority very frequently~ and primarily for their own' honor, indulgence, and as a source of exceptions from the common obligations of the religious life. It would be in-sincere to'deny that some cases of this type have occurred, but it would also be unrealistic to hold that these cases among religious superiors have been very frequent or that the "service" approach would sanate the common and most harmful defects in the superiors of religious insti-tutes. I should think it factually most evident that the far more harmful and general defects of religious su-periors have been a lack of vision, of familiarity with the contemporary world, of a progressive spirit, ignorance of and a failure to guide and influence subjects to the genhine and satisfying spirituality of the perfection of charity and assimilation to Christ, the entrapment in de-tails and observances as sanctity of life, ignorance of the necessity of harmonizing the observance of the vows and Rule with an adult, mature life and the proper de-velopment of natural qualities and abilities, the superior's own state of overwork, the projection of an image of a principal, housekeeper, caretaker, administrator, or exec-utive, and not of the directive force of a human, social, professional, and spiritual community, the government of a community rather than of individuals, government by signals and directives rather than by influence, an in-ability to see the value and necessity of listening to and seeking the ideas of individual subjects, the community, and of others, care for such things as order, neatness, cleanliness, and discipline rather than spirituality, the persuasion that obedience is an end in itself rather than a means, the inculcating of passive rather than active and conscious obedience, the limitation of representation to th!ngs that are too difficult, the practical failure to see that obedience should not stop with the superior but that its end is God, the same failure by one who partici-pates in God's government to seek the will of God for the subject, the lack of a consciousness of the adult dignity of subjects, and the failure to assign them sufficiently ac-cording to their natural and acquired abilities. I have most rarely encountered a religious superior who was am-bitious, proud, and self-indulgent; but I have frequently known superiors who were lacking in the proper firm-ness, were weak, desirous of popularity, governed rather than governing, and excessively indulgent to subjects. Modern investigation and discussion of obedience and of the vows in general can deepen our grasp of the vows, make it more accurate and motivating, can express the vows in language moreadapted to the modern mentality, and make them more of a living reality than mere abstract and dry principles. However, an intelligent spirituality should not confuse a different expression, no matter how suitable and effective, with new truth. Our obedience, as every virtue, should give testimony to Christ; our con-duct should be the living reproduction of the life of Christ and manifest His doctrine and person to the faith-ful and especially to the unbeliever. Is this a doctrine factually distinct from the familiar teaching that our Lord is also the exemplary cause of our salvation and sanctifi-cation or merely another aspect of the same doctrine? Vatican Council II appears to identify the two: Thus it is evident to everyone that all the faithful if Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the p~erfection of charity. By this holiness a more human way of hfe is promoted even in this earthly society. In order that the faithful may reach this perfection, they must use their strength according as they have received it, as a gift from C.hrist. In this way they can follow in His ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedlen~e VOLUME 26° 1967 ÷ ÷ + J. F. Gallen, S.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 246 footsteps and mold themselves in His image, seeking the will of the Father in all things, devoting themselves with al! their being to the glory of God and the service of their neighbor, In this way, too, the holiness of the People of God will grow into an abundant harvest of good, as is brilliantly proved by the lives of so many saints in Church history. (LG, n. 40) In the various types and duties of life, one and the same holiness is cultivated by all who are moved by the Spirit of God, and who obey the voice of the Father, worshiping God the Father in spirit and in truth. These souls follow the poor Christ, the humble and cross-bearing Christ, in order to be made worthy of being partakers in His glory. (LG, n. 41) Finally, let the spouses themselves, made to the image of the living God and enloying the authentic dignity of persons, be joined to one another in equal affection, harmony of mind, and the work of mutual sanctification. Thus they will follow Christ who is the principle of life. Thus, too, by the joys and sacrifices of their vocation and through their faithful love, married peo-ple will become witnesses of the mystery of that love which the Lord revealed to the world by His dying and His rising up to life again. (GES, n. 52) This Sacred Synod has high regard for the character of their life--virginal, poor, and obedient---of which Christ the Lord Himself is the model. The Council places steady hope in the immense fruitfulness of their labors, both the unseen ones and the obvious. Let all religious therefore spread throughout the whole world the good news of Christ by the integrity of their faith, their love for God and neighbor, their devotion to the Cross, and their hope of future glory. Thus will their witness be seen by all, and our Father in heaven will be glorified. (See Mt 5:16). (PC, n.~5) The very tesumony, of their [the laity. ] Christian life, and good works done ~n a supernatural sprat, have the power to draw men to belief and to God; for the Lord says, "Even so let your light shine before men, in order that they may see ),our good works and give glory to your Father in heaven" (Mt 5:16). (AA, n. 6) For when we look at the lives of those who have faithfully followed Christ, we are inspired with a new reason for seeking the city which is to come (Heb 13:14; 11:10). At the same time we are shown a most safe path by which, among the Viscissi-tudes of this world and in keeping with the state in life and condition proper to each of us, we will be able to arrive at perfect union with Christ, that is, holiness. In the lives of those who shared in our humanity and yet were transformed into especially successful images of Christ (See 2 Cor 3:18), God vividly manifests to men His presence and His face. He speaks to us in them, and gives us a sign of His kingdom, to which we are powerfully drawn, surrounded as we are by so many wit-nesses (See Heb 12:1), and having such an argument for the truth of the gospel. (LG, n. 50) Another emphasis characteristic of our day is that of love. There is no doubt whatever that divine charity should be supreme and that we should strive to make it universal. We must not weaken the Gospel message that the plentitude of law and life is love, nor, on the contrary, may we question the teaching of the Church that the hereditary curse of man is selfishness or concupiscence. Is love always the sole means for the humanity described by St. Paul? Consider the following text: For I do not understand what I do, for it is not what I wish that I do, but what I hate, that t do . For I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, no good dwells, because to wish is within my power, but I do not find the strength to accomplish what is good . For I am delighted with the law of God ac-cording to the inner man, but I see another law in my mem-bers, warring against the law of my mind and making me prisoner to the law of sin that is in my members. (Kom 7:13-23) These Pauline thoughts seem rather to emphasize the constant teaching of the Church of the necessity of re-nunciation, self-denial, sacrifice, mortification, and pen-ance, which, although they should at least lead to love, have their own distinct object and motive. Vatican Coun-cil II repeatedly emphasized these fundamental virtues; for example: Religious therefore who are striving faithfully to observe the chastity they have professed must have faith in the words of the Lord, and trusting in God's help not overestimate their own strength but practice mortification and custody of the senses. (PC, n. 12) Likewise consecrated by the anointing of the Holy Spirit and sent by Christ, priests mortify in themselves the deeds of the flesh and devote themselves entirely to the service of men. (PO, n. l~) It would certainly be strange to exclude everything from Christ's message except love. He stated: All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me . teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. (Mt 28:18-20). for he was teaching as one having authority, and not as their Scribes and Pharisees . (Mt 7:29) For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will render to everyone according to his conduct. (Mt 16:28) And Jesus entered the temple of God, and cast out all those who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overtnrned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold the doves. (Mr 21:12) So if thy right eye is an occasion of sin to thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee. (Mt 5:29) And he who does not take up his cross and follow me, is not worthy of me. He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for my sake, will find it. (Mr 10:38-9) For within, out of the heart of men, come evil thoughts, adulteries, immorality, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, shamelessness, jealousy, blasphemy, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and defile a man. (Mk 7:21-3) And whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it were better for him if a great millstone were hung about his neck, and he were thrown into the sea (Mk 9:41) Why dust thou call me good? No one is good but only God. Thou knowest the commandments: "Thou shalt not commit adultery. Thou shalt not kill." (Mk 10:19-22) This is the first commandment. And the second is like it: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." (Mk 12:31) But if thy brother sin against thee, go and show him his fault, between thee and him alone. If he listen to thee, thou hast won thy brother. But if he do not listen to thee, take with thee one or two more so that on the word of two or three witnesses every word may be con-firmed. And if he refuse to hear them, appeal to the Church, Obedience VOLUME 26, 1967 247 4" .L F. Gallen, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 248 but if he refuse to hear even the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen and the publican. Amen I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed also in heaven. (Mr 18:15-8) If you love me, keep my commandments. (3o 14:15) He who has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. (~oo 14:21) If anyone love me, he will keep my word .He who es not love me does not keep my words. (3o 14:23-4) Our Lord's message was not solely of love when He acted with authority, sent out His apostles with authority, constituted the Church with authority, demanded the avoidance of sin at all cost, reaffirmed the Ten Command-ments, and affirmed the eternal jud. gment of all according to their conduct. Love should be highly predominant in the religious, whether superior, or subject. The religious is to strive for sanctity of life, which is the perfection of love. The love of religious should be a deeper living of divine adop-tion, of being a member of a family that gives greater love and makes us capable of greater love. It is therefore true that the religious community should be a community of love. This follows from its purpose, which is the per-fection of charity or love, also from 'the evangelical coun-sels, whose purpose is to remove the principal obstacles to the perfection of love, and finally from the note of com-mon life itself, which is essential to the religious state and distinguishes it from secular institutes. Are we exaggerating or distorting this love that one is to expect in the religious life? Is there any reason for a thirty-year old sister to expect a different love from her religious superior and sisters than a thirty-year old secu-lar woman would expect from other secular women? Is the tone of the emphasis on maternal and paternal gov-ernment in religious life an indication of this? Few thirty-year old secular men and women are looking for a marked paternal or maternal attitude from their fathers and mothers. Are we demanding a deeper personal rela-tion with all or a great many when we are capable of it only with a few? In community life we place a religious in very constant personal contact with many other re-ligious when in ordinary life, especially in the modern family, such contact is not so constant, prolonged, nor with so many. Haven't we intensified this contact by such things as the lack of private rooms and an excessive num-ber of duties in common? Do we exaggerate talking not only as a means of relaxation but also of union? Most rarely do the members of a family talk to one another as mucli as do religious. Obedience should help a com-munity of love but it is also true that practically every-thing in the religious life is very dependent on the hap-piness of community life. There can be and frequently are serious factual difficulties to the attainment of such happiness. These difficulties are not insuperable but they are commonly ignored by those who concentrate on the aspect of love in individual religious and in the religious community. Sanctity and the Purpose ol the Counsels in Vatican Council H The Council even more frequently reasserted the common abstract doctrine on the nature of sanctity, that is, that it is the" perfection of charity, or the perfection of the the.ological virtue of charity: Now, this holiness of the Church is unceasingly manifested, as it ought to be, through those fruits of grace that the Spirit produces in the faithful. It is expressed in multiple ways by those individuals who, in their walk of life, strive for the per-fection of charity, and thereby help others to grow. In a par-ticularly appropriate way this holiness shines out in the prac-tice of the counsels customarily called "evangelical." Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, the practice of these counsels is undertaken by many Christians, either privately or in some Church-approved situation or state, and produces in the world, as produce it should, a shining witness and model of holiness. (LG, n. 39) Hence they should make a total dedication of themselves to God in perfect charity their chief aim. (PC, n. 11) Thus it is evident to everyone, that all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status, are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity. (LG, n. 41) The faithful of Christ bind themselves to the three aforesaid counsels either by vows, or by other shared bonds, which are like vows in their purpose. By such a bond, a person is totally dedicated to God lovedbeyond all things. (LG, n. 44) The Council even more frequently reasserted the following of Christ as the concrete definition of sanctity of life: All the members ought to be molded into Christ's image until He is formed in them (Gal 4:19). For this reason we who have been made like unto Him, who have died with Him and been raised up with Him, are taken up into the mysteries of His life, until we reign together with Him (See Phil 3:21; 2 Tim 2:11; Eph 2:6; Col 2:12; and so forth). Still in pilgrimage upon the earth, we trace in trial and under oppression the paths He trod. Made one with His sufferings as the body is one with the head, we endure with Him, that with Him we may be glorified (See Rom 8:17). (LG, n. 7) Since the ultimate norm of the religiou~ life is the following of Christ set forth in the Gospels, let this be held by all in-stitutes as the highest rule. (PC, n. 2) Since the disciples must always imitate and give witness to this charity and humility of Christ, Mother Church rejoices at finding within her bosom men and women w,ho more closely follow and more clearly demonstrate the Savior s self-giving by embracing poverty with the free choice of God's sons, and by renouncing their own wills. They subject the latter to another' person on God's behalf, in pursuit o[ an excellence surpassing what "is commanded. Thus they liken themselves more thor-oughly to Christ in His obedience. (LG, n. 42) ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 26, 1967 .~. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 250 Through the profession of obedience, religious offer to God a total dedication of their own wills as a sacrifice of them-selves; they thereby unite themselves with greater steadiness and security to the saving will of God. In this way they fol-low thepattern of Jesus Christ, who came to do the Father's will (See Jn 4:34; 5:30; Heb 10:7; Ps 39:9). "Taking the nature of a slave" (Phil 2:7), He learned obedience from His sufferings (See Heb 5:8). (PC, n. 14) On the contrary, all stand in need of Christ, their Model, their Mentor, their Liberator, their Source of life. (AG, n. 8) The perfection of the theological virtue of charity is the general end of all religious institutes. In apostolic institutes works immediately for the salvation and sancti-fication of the neighbor fall under the special end. We may therefore designate the purpose of such institutes as apostolic sanctity of life. It follows in simple logic that anything else in a religious institute is a means to its end, and this is eminently true of the evangelical counsels. This traditional doctrine on the nature of the counsels has also been reaffirmed by Vatican Council II: However, in order that he may be capable of deriving more abundant fruit from this baptismal grace, he intends, by the profession of the evangelical counsels in the Church; to free himself from those obstacles which might draw him away from the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship. (LG, n. 44) It [chastity] frees the heart of man in a unique fashion (see ! Cor 7:32-5) so that it may be more inflamed witli love for God and for all men.(PC, n. 12) The evangelical counsels which lead to charity join their followers to the Church and its mystery in a special way. From this arises their duty of working to implant and strengthen the Kingdom of Christ in souls and to extend that Kingdom to every

Issue 26.4 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; Confessions of Religious Women by J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R., and Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 581 Chastity in Relig.i.ous Life by Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J. 604 Penance :~ Sacrament of Poverty by George B. Nintemann, O.P. 625 Poverty Today by Joseph J. Sikora, S.J. 638 ~ ReligiOus and the World by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. 662 The Retreat Director by Paul J. Bernadicou, S.J. 672 Indwelling Dynamism by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 685 High School Retreats by Paul Pilgrara, S.J., and Carl Starkloff, S.J. 703 Liturgy as Symbol by Andrew Weigert 708 Missionary Formation by Sister Barbara Ann, S.N.D. 714' Confession and Growth by Robert L Faricy, S.J. 720 Survey of Roman Documents 725 Views, News, Previews 739 Questions and Answers 749 Book Reviews 758 VOLUM~ 26 NUMBER 4 July 1967 NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS During the first part of September, 1967, the editorial office of REviEw' ~'oR RELIGtOUS will be moved from St. Marys, Kansas, to St. Louis, Missouri. Consequently, the editorial office of the REwEw will be closed from Septem-ber 1, 1967, to September 15, 1967. The St. Louis address of the editorial office of the R~wEw will be announced in the September, 1967, issue of the R~vi~w. This change will not affect the address of the business office of the R~.vl~w in Baltimore, nor will the business office there be closed during the time the editorial office is closed. j. A. CLARMONT, C.Ss.R. SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S. Confessions of Women Religious INTRODUCTION* The purpose of the sacraments is to sanctify men, to build up the body of Christ, and finally to give worship to God. Because they are signs they also instruct. They not only pre-suppose faith, but by words and objects they also nourish, strengthen and express it; that is why they are called "sacra-ments of faith." They do indeed impart grace, but, in addition, the very act of celebrating them disposes the faithful most effectively to receive this grace in a fruitful manner, to wor-ship God duly, and to practice charity (Constitution on the Liturgy, n.59). In this age of Christian renewal, it is important indeed that the liturgy of the sacraments manifest in sign and significance their primary purpose. As Christians we must be sanctified; we must build up the Body of Christ; and we must worship God. All these functions should be as meaningful as possible. They should be made as personal as possible. When we think of the sacraments as en-counters with Christ, we are speaking of personal re-lationships. The sacraments in themselves, because they are actions of Christ, are effective signs of sanctification. However, the recipients and the ministers of the sacra-ments have definite personalistic approaches in the sacramental liturgy if the greatest fruit is to be obtained and growth in holiness be effective. More especially is exterior and interior renewal neces-sary in the sacrament of penance. Here the encounter of the prodigal son with the waiting and forgiving Father is reenacted in the Christian's life. Is not this sacrament one of the most vital and important for the pilgrim Christian * The research fo~ this paper was done as part of the pastoral theology program at the Divine Word International Centre of Reli-gious Education; 260 Colborne Street; London, Ontario; Canada. Since the writing of this paper, Father Clarmont has died--may he rest in peace. Rev. J. A. Clar-mont, C.Ss.R., and Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., are students in pastoral theolog~ at the Divine Word Centre of Religious Education; 960 Col-borne Street; Lon-don, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 26, 1967 + 4. 4. ]. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, $.0;$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS on his way to the God of all love and of all purity? Who has not stumbled on this journey to the fullness of eternal life? Who has not felt his daily faults as impeding growth in the Christ-life? Who has not felt the desire for the merciful Christ to touch and to make clean, to hear the consoling words: "Thy sins are forgiven." Am?rig the people of God who realize the importance of this sacrament are those women dedicated to God by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Because of their calling to be a sign of the fullness of the Christian vocation, these generous women seek a profound union with God through Christ in the Spirit. B~y laboring to build up the Body of Christ, they attempt to make of their lives a continu6us act of worship to the triune God. They, perhaps more than others, are conscious of their human failings, are desirous of offering a pure holocaust to God, are anxious to receive the sacrament of God's merciful pardon and~ encouraging aid with all possible meaning. They do wish to make the reception of the sacrament of penance a truly personal encounter with the glorified Christ in His saving acts. These convictions, coupled with sincere and frank self-criticism by many priest-confessors and sister-penitents, were the inspiration of this study on the confessions of women religious. Our purpose is not academic, but practi-cal. It is hoped that the present study will enable both the confessor and the sister to avoid stifling routine and to rediscover the unfathomable riches of this sacrament. In order to view the present situation on a factual basis a questionnaire (See Appendix A) was sent to a random sampling of priest-confessors and sister-penitents. No at-tempt was made to include both the confessor and the sisters of a given convent. The-returned questionnaires from sixty-s.ix p.riests and one hundred and thirty-three sisters inclu~ded a widely varied group as regards age, occupation,, and location. Many dioceses of Canada and the United States were represented. Detailed statistics will be found in Appendix B. The principal items on the questionnaire centered around the~ physical environment of the confessional; the number of sisters who would be going to confession at the same time and the corresponding number of con-fessors available; methods of examimltion of conscience and the confession itself; the place of spiritual direction; and value judgments with respect to the confessor's. attitude toward this priestly ministry, the sister's attitude toward the fionfessor, and the greatest benefits and diffi-culties experienced by both the priest-confessor and the sister-penitent. Finally, both confessors and sisters were asked to state .how the sacrament of penance could be made more meaningful for sisters. The primary purposes for the questionnaire and hence for this study were, first, to ascertain, as much as is possi-ble within the limits of this sampling, those factors which tend to hinder a meaningful reception of the sacrament; and second, to propose means by which the reception of the sacrament could be made more meaning-ful. In this study we shall confine our remarks to a sum-mary of those factors which tend to hinder a meaningful reception of the sacrament of penance. Positive sug-gestions, based on the questionnaires and other research, will occupy a later study. General Impressions Irom the Questionnaires The survey indicates that most of the priest-confessors have a deep admiration, sympathy, and wholesome con-cern for the sister-penitent. These confessors are conscious of the holiness attained and the holiness sought by these dedicated women. Many desire to help the sisters in their struggle for sanctity, both by the sacramental confession itself and by the opportunities for spiritual guidance provided by the sacrament. These attitudes were quite evident from responses td the question: "What do you find most satisfying regarding sisters' confessions?" By nature (womanly) they have the potentiality of being great women of God and for the Church. If they do not, per-haps it is because we have failed them. However, thirty-seven confessors were unfavorably im-pressed with sisters' confessions in general: The greatest difficulty in hearing sisters' confessions is over-coming the feeling that I 'am mired hip-deep in childish obstacles to the Christian life that I am incapable of changing. These priests expressed the realization and consequent frustration that, at the present time, many sisters' confes-sions are meaningless. When reading the sisters' questionnaires, the authors were impressed by the simplicity, candor, and utter honesty of the comments. Where the sisters are critical of others---be they confessors, superiors, and canon law itself--they are no less critical of themselves. The most evident conclusion to be drawn from these questionnaires is that the sisters, with the exception of five, are faced with many problems in their reception of the sacrament of penance. What is meant to be a sacra-ment of peace and joy is fraught with unpleasant diffi-culties and hardships, many of which are beyond their control: Confession is not a joyful encounter with Christ, but an obligation to be fulfilled. I hope advancements in the near future will help us to acquire the right attitude. 4" 4" 4" t:ontessions o! Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 583 Why Penance Is Less Meaningful Certain factors which tend to make the sacrament of penance less meaningful were identified in both sets of questionnaires. Table 1 lists the number of sisters and/or priests who cited these factors as problems. TABLE 1 Diffculties Encountered by Confessors and Sisters in the Sacrament oJ Penance Cited by 66 Confessors Cited by 133 Sisters Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Examination of consci-ence . Impersonal relationship. Confessor not under-standing . . Environment . Rite . Numbe~ of Con-fessor 33 12 36 16 30 5 Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Difficulty in confessing. Impersonal relationship. Confessor not under-standing . Parish priest for confes-sor . Lack of suitable direc-tion . Environment . Rite . Number of Sisters 53 .40 54 36 44 36 51 56 93 38 ÷ ÷ ÷ I. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 ~ Only 23 sisters have their parish priest as confessor. 1. Routine One of the major obstacles to a meaningful reception of the sacrament of penance is routine. The frank answers to the questionnaire reveal clearly the feeling among confessors that most sisters' reception of this sacrament is mere routine ~nd thus utterly meaningless. Most feel the routine is due to its weekly celebration on the same day, and at the same hour, year in and year out. Sisters also are acutely aware of the malaise that comes from "the backlog of years of receiving the sacrament in a most uninspiring way with no conception of the living reality that it is." Routine seems to take the life and vital-ity out of this sacrament and add the "-less" to "mean-ing." Many point to either the interpretation of canon law or their constitutions regarding obligatory weekly confession as one of the chief causes of this routine, not-ing that weekly confession fulfills a law, but not neces-sarily a personal need: I'd likb to go when I feel the need. Canon law needs to .be revised here. The problem of routine seems to have pervaded every aspect of the sacramental process. Some sisters lament routine in their examination of conscience; others in the rite itself. Especially susceptible to monotony is the confession of sins: I tell the same old thing week after week. It makes me feel like a "phony" and because of this feeling, I hate to go. Also I feel that I am boring the priest. The confessor who continually gives the same penance and exhortation also contributes to the rite of routine. Generally speaking, sisters are aware of the devastating effects which accompany the routin~ rut--"the lack of growth in love'--and that the responsibility of avoiding routine lies heavily upon them. They readily admit that ignorance regarding the real meaning of the sacrament of penance is a major factor in routine. There has been a great tendency to blame the indi-vidual for approaching the sacrament in a routine man-ner. It is, however, our contention that a routine recep-tion of penance is only a symptom of other deeply rooted causes, some of which are inherent in the structures surrounding the sacrament itself. These are the causes which we intend to examine. 2. Time Problems Pressure of work and limited time when they can receive the sacrament--when the confessor comes~makes it harder physi-cally and psychologically to receive the sacrament with devo-tion and meaningfu.lness. The allotted time---too little and too often--also in-creases the danger of routine. Often the confessor must rush the sisters through, assembly-line fashion. Little time can be given for any personal concern, guidance, or words of encouragement. Busy confessors are often frus-trated trying to fit in to the tightly organized convent schedule. On the other hand, some sisters have noted that the time arrangement for confessions seems to be best for the confessor rather than for the community. In many places confessions are scheduled at the end of a busy day when mental and physical exhaustion render one "too tired to think." Or what is worse: Confessions are heard by our chaplain a few minutes before Mass in our chapel. Often preparation for confession is unnecessarily hurried under these conditions. One sister makes her examination of conscience "while out of breath after knocking several people down racing to get to confession on return from school." ÷ ÷ ÷ ~onlesslons ol Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 585 I. A. Clarmont, C Sister M. Denis, S.O.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 However, it is within the confession itself that time pressures ,make their gr.eatest assault: It (confession) seemed to be simply pushing the slide as quickly as possible with a 'minimum of necessary words on either side. Direction??? Two priests for over two hundred sisters in about three hours!ll In large convents time pressures are compounded be-cause of the great number of sisters and the inevitable long lines. One sister typically noted that the greatest difficulty she experienced in receiving the sacrament of p.enance was "the speed with which one receives the absolution and knowing that there ~are fifty people waiting." ~' Both superiors and confessors, in conjunction with the sisters concerned, should examine the confession schedule and ensure enough time for a meaningful re-ception of this sacrament. Any act that must continually be performed in as short a time as possible is bound to be considered of little" importance--and a sacrament is of infinite value. 3. Lack of Freedom Under present conditions, pressures of time have caused much of the confession routine. Causally linked to both problems is the almost uniform lack of freedom for the sisters to confess when, where, to whom, and as often as they wish. One should seriously consider whether or not this problem is at the root of most of the difficulties ;experienced by confessors and penitents. Compulsory weekly confessions, when perhaps sisters are not prepared, have nothing to relate, or are not in the mood, must have a deleterious effect on a fruitful and meaningful recep-tion of this sacrament that demands genuine faith, true sorrow, and a real consciousness of sin. The core of the problem is indicated in the following comments of a priest-confessor: The sacrament should be left up to the free choice of the sister. How, in conscience, can a rule or a superior tell one when to receive the sacrament? Expressing the same sentiment, a sister wrote: Let the sisters be prompted to go to confession by their own inner needs. They are mature women who can surely be trusted to get to the sacraments often enough. Even though the weekly legislation is weakening, most sisters are expected to go to confession at the appointed time. Often unnecessary tension ~s set up between personal conscience and obedience, especially when such legislation is part of the rule to which the sister has vowed obedience. It was quite evident from the question-naires that the majority of sisters, are not free in this regard. As an older sister pointed out, there seems to be some discrepancy between the theology of the sacrament of penance and present legislation concerning the reception of "penance: Since confession is not necessary, except for mortal sins, it would be well for some pronouncement to be made about it to clear away wrong ideas. More and more, the sisters want to take their places with the People of God and to be accorded the same rights, duties, obligations, and privileges: It is well to go to confession in the parish church as part of the People of God and standing in line with them. Some peo-ple seem.to be of the opinion that sisters never go to confession because we never have sins. If they onl~ knewlll For reasons which will be readily seen later in this study, sisters desire the freedom to choose their own confessor, which, of course, implies freedom of place: Each sister should have her own confessor. She should go where he is, if desired, and receive the sacrament in the way she finds most beneficial and personal to her, in a manner agreed upon by herself and the confessor. This mature desire is seconded by many confessors. Cloistered sisters, in particular, are deprived of any opportunities of freedom in regard to confession. One older cloistered sister stated that her greatest difficulty in the reception of penance was the enclosure "because you can't go to different priests:" Another sister in a different cloistered convent suggested that "cloistered sisters who haven't the opportunities available to active sisters be permitted to go to the parish church---or wherever they choose for confession to a priest,of their choice, on a day of their choice." Lacking all of these suggestions she pleaded for bishops to try to make it a point to choose competent spiritual men as confessors for cloistered sisters. As was pointed out by several concerned sisters, the rights of all should be respected. To pass from a rule of weekly confession to another rule of biweekly or monthly confession would still not solve the problem of lack of freedom in the frequency of confession: The few who feel the need of weekly confession and realize the great source of graces received are becoming uneasy. The confessor only comes every second week now, since he knows several of the sisters want it this way. This is depriving those who wish weekly confession many graces. There is no freedom in this case. Since our confessional is the chapel, there is no opportunity to go before Mass. 4- 4- 4- Conlesslons o# Women Religious VOLUME 26, 19~7 ÷ J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 588 4. Insufficient Training Without a theological knowledge of the religious life and its link to the ecclesial aspect of the sacrament of penance, how can the latter be a real benefit to growth in the Christian life? A thorough course on the sacraments in general, with a great emphasis on their relation to the sister's life of service and her spiritual life, is needed. Confessors have noted that many sisters are not properly trained concerning the purpose of the sacrament. Where is the blame to be attributed? Certainly, lack of proper training in novitiates, lack of personal meditation and study of the nature of this sacrament, and hurried preparation due to a lack of time are related causes. Many sisters have received little or no mature training to deepen their knowledge and appreciation of the sacra-ment of penance after the initial preparation for first confession preceding first Holy Communion: We lack training on the sacramental, biblical, and theologi-cal basis of penance. The fact that six sisters stated they found nothing bene-ficial in the reception of penance bespeaks a lack of in-struction: I must say I did more than smile when I saw this survey. It takes all the faith I have and even more to believe in the sacrament of penance. This has become more serious since I entered. Having been brought up with no explanation of it except the fact that it was a habit to go to confession once a month, it meant very little, in fact, nothing to me. Religious life has done nothing to give it more meaning. Instead, it is now a habit to go once a week instead of once a month. Such training should have been an integral part of every novitiate program. Beyond the novitiate there has been a dearth of instruction concerning the meaning of penance: No one has really explained the positive aspect of confession as an encounter with Christ. We need discussion with the confessor on the meaning and value of the sacrament. It seems to me that a whole education for both confessors and confessers is necessary. No doubt, steps are being taken in many areas to remedy the situation, particularly since the aggiornamento of Vatican II. 5. Examination of Conscience Some of the greatest criticism, from the confdssor, was the sisters' apparent lack of nnderstanding how to .ex-amine one's conscience as a religious, the inability to communicate any real openness of soul. Thirty priest- confessors felt that the sisters' examination of conscience was unrealistic. Their major criticisms center on the sisters' tendencies to majorize the minima: "They cut a hair in four." Often their confessions reflect petty violations of rule, a listing of imperfections and failings without consideration for the deeply rooted causes of faults: The sisters don't know what to look for and it is very difficult to get them to realize "sins" against one's neighbor, lying, cheating, pride, vanity, uncharitableness, selfishness are more injurious to their progress in sanctity than missing re-creation, failing to make meditation, impure thoughts and even action. To the confessor, the sister does not seem to develop her own personality in the sacramental context but reflects the thinking of her novice mistress and/or rule. The sacrament of penance designedly fulfills both a psychologi-cal and a spiritual need of the individual, but in the case of sisters, these needs are often served in a very super-ficial way: Their examination of conscience is real in the sense of following a taught and believed-in need, but hardly a real and basic human need. It is more the satisfaction of a conditioned (subconscious) need. Too often the examination of conscience is based on violations of the rule rather than violations of the gospel of Christ: Their desire seems to be to keep a clean slate rather than to live the spirit of the gospel. It would seem from the confessors' remarks that examina-tion of conscience, on the whole, is inadequate and fails to promote growth in sanctity. The sisters also admit that an inadequate examination ~f conscience is a deterrent to a meaningful confession. Some sisters state that their method of examination is too negative or too stereotyped; others feel that they are lacking in self-knowledge; still others find difficulty in deciding each week what is really sufficient important conscience matter. Several sisters expressed dissatisfaction with methods of examination that they were taught: I find examinations dwelling on faults, failings, and slighted points of rule are petty, extremely repulsive, and tantamount to nit-picking. Let's be more concrete: One sister who bases the ~examination of conscience on failings in charity states: This is not satisfactory to me, but I don't know how to remedy it and haven't reached the point.of discussing it openly with someoue yet. + ÷ ÷ Cont~ssions ol Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 589 ].4. ~larmon¢, ~ C.Ss.R. Sister M~ i DS.eOn.i&s, REV]EW FOR RELZGIOUS 590 All of~these difficulties point to a real need for reeduca-tion in this area. 6. Dil~iculty in Co~[essing Unique to their role as penitent, the sisters mention that often they are hampered by fear, reticence, human respect, and an inability to communicate in the confes-sional. Frustration is experienced by those who feel an inability "to manifest simply and clearly.one's weaknesses and spiritual state." On the other hand, there is the sister who apparently knows what to say but is hampered by "the fear of being too frank, thereby embarrassing the confessor and one's self." As one sister said: "I really do not think there is shortage of matter, but just that we cannot bring ourselves to be ourselves." In answer to the question: What do you find the greatest difficulty in your reception of the sacrament of penance?" a sister wrote: What and how to confess sins. There is plenty of matter for confession, but how can you verbalize the multitudinous fail-ures-- real failures? One sister said that she would like to express sins of omission l~ut felt that the confessor would not accept this as matter for a good confession. Another stated that she "would like to feel free to express myself in ordinary terms without the confessor becoming impatient." This difficu.lty persists in some, even with the best of condi-tions: I have difficulty in expressing my problems or difficulties in a clear and brief way even when I have the good fortune to have a confessor who is understanding. 7. Impersonal Relationship Today we hear much about personal relationships. Certainly it would appear that to make the sacrament of penance a means of spiritual growth there must be an interpersonal relationship between the sister-penitent and the priest-confessor, The obvious fact that two hu-man beings are united in the enactment of this sacra- - ment is too readily overlooked due to an "opere operato" mentality. Each person involved in this act of worship should relate to the other--as a communion of persons. But.,then, what about those who desire anonymity? Are the two contradictory? A relationship of concern, interest,. and desire to aid the penitent is sufficient, even though the sister is not known. However, for true spiritual guidancE, anonymity is a hindrance. Recognition of this lack of personal relationship is manifested in the remarks of the clergy: The dialogue is nil even though the confessor makes an attempt at the possibility of discussion on any matter that would ease any problems by the mere relating of them. There is also a desire for better relationship expressed by some confessors: ' Sisters of whatever type they are, with whatever problem they cope with, should be listened to closely, intently, pa-tiently. The confessor remains the key to the beneficial con-fessions of religious women. I am trying to make myself a better confessor by cultivating in myself greater love of God, a deeper insight into the nature of sin, and a better understanding of the person.s who are con-fessing. For most sisters, too, a lack, of true interperson.al re-lationship of the human level militates against a real understanding of the sacrament of penance as an en-counter with Christ. One sister even commented that because of the impersonal atmosphere, "confession can turn into an inhuman act." That the sisters object to being treated as "things" is evident in the following: Confession should be more of a person-to-person encounter, rather than a thing-to-thing. I don't feel that the priest is interested in me as an in-dividual, but in our community as a group. Whenever one speaks of interpersonal relationships, one must be aware of the important role played" by communication and dialogue: A greater sense of an interpersonal relationship is needed in confession, so that one does not feel that one is just another person with another uninteresting story. The biggest problem to my mind is the lack of commumcation between the confessor and myself. He doesn't seem interested in me as a person, so I cannot bring myself to talk to him. Attempts have proved fruitless. I feel that confession is basic to our spiritual life and think that it is high time dialogue with a capital "D" is possible with our confessor in particular, and priests in general. Great benefit can accrue from a genuinely human re-lationship: When I can open up to a confessor who is equipped to listen, I find that I at least can get close to experiencing a meeting with Christ. 8. Confessor Not Understanding When the confessor does not represent the under-standing and patient Christ,. the sisters' difficulties will be augmented. Does the priest himself feel capable? con-cerned? truly helpful? Earlier in. this study we mentioned the appreciation for the vocation of the sisters and for their zeal and holiness. There is a real desire on the part of un-derstanding priests, to help the sisters, to make confession an effective source of Christian growth: + + + ontesaons ot Women 1~eligious VOLUME 26, 1967 591 4. 4. 4. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. DSe.nOi.sS,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 I am intensely interested in helping religious and proclaim !oudly and often the deplorable injustice which, I feel, priests in general have perpetrated in regard to these tremendous women, and that for centuries. It starts with the kind of "bon-papa" assigned to postulates and continues right on through to the type of retired, nasty, selfish, old bachelor whom no one will put up with except "the dear good sisters." Most priests want to get out of having to hear sisters' confessions and are only too happy to have anyone at all take over the chore, even if it happens to be someone who is good for nothing else. Many priests are sisters' confessors, not by inclination, training, or talent, but by appointment. What could make confession more meaningless to the sisters than the necessity to confess to some priest who merely tolerates his task of hearing their confessions? Or looks upon it as a waste of time? Or feels inadequate for the situation? Those priests who are interested and willing to give the necessary time and effort should "specialize" as confes-sors of women religious. As a priest stated, among the qualifications for a priest-confessor of sisters should be "some knowledge of the psychology of religious women and of counseling along with common sense and compas-sion." It is questionable whether seminary courses in pastoral theology treat of this specialized apostolate. In answering the question: "Are you satisfied with your confessor?" sixty-one sistei:s replied in the negative. Sis-ters are particularly sensitive to the priest's attitude toward hearing sisters' confessions in general: For our confessor, as for most confessors whom I have en-countered, the hearing of sisters' confessions seems to be an unpleasant duty to be got through as quickly as possible and with as little personal involvement as possible. Such an attitude is bound to inhibit the penitent. Others commented that their confessor is one in the strictest sense only, that is, he listens to confessions and gives absolution. Some confessors seem "uninterested, uncon-cerned, and unwilling to be of assistance." An older sister wrote: In my forty-six years of confessions, I can think of three priests that stand out because they were interested and gave all the time one wanted, plus counsel. Further irritation is caused by a condoning manner which implied "that you were a good girl who did not really need confession--'Keep up the good work.'" In addition, impatience, abruptness, moodiness, oversensi-tivity, unapproachableness were cited by the sisters as un-desirable qualities in a priest-confessor. Sisters are distressed by the male mistake of not under-standing the feminine mystique. Neither native intelli-gence nor acquired holiness is a substitute for under-standing feminine psychology. In the confessional the priest is dealing with the whole person--body, soul, mind, feelings. In addition to understanding the psychological and biological factors of women, the confessor should be able to "get behind the externals" in order to understand what "women get frustrated over": The confessor should consider most religious as shy persons; and deal with them as you would a shy person. Those who appoint confessors should see to it that the con-fessor is one who knows what women are, how they function and why; that be knows and understands the cycle of a wo-men- the menopause. We had a confessor who knew nothing of all this and said so, and what is worse, didn't want to know. It's all medical, he said. Furthermore, the feminine expression of the religious life is as different from the masculine expression of the religious life as woman is "from man: If we only had an understanding priest who knew what community living involved. This would solve many problems. From a total of. forty-two sisters with diocesan.priests for confessors, only eighteen expressed dissatisfaction with the confessor since he had no personal experience of community life as lived by religious. Most of the eighteen stated that they would prefer a religious priest. Frequently sisters experience difficulty when the pastor for whom they work, especially in a small town, is their con tess or: It is undesirable to have the pastor or some other priest, who is in frequent contact with the sisters in a professional way, as confessor. It is very apparent that the person of the confessor plays an important role in contributing to the meaning-fulness of the sacrament of penance, without, however, the penitent abdicating her own personal responsibility: Each person needs to find her own personal response to God. The priest can suggest, but the decision must be your own. I have great sympathy for the priegt who has to be a con-fessor to sisters (being stoned to death with popcorn, as one priest put it), but I believe lie must definitely have the in-clination for it, a solid knowledge of feminine psychology, , and the knack of helping his penitents to be more objective in their outlook. 9. Lack Of Suitable Direction ÷ When discussing the lack of spiritual direction as a + factor in rendering the sacrament of penance less mean-ingful, we are adopting, in line with the replies on the. questionnaires, the broad meaning of spiritual direction, onfesslons namely, a personal or general exhortation directed to the Women Religious penitent. Xqhile it is beyond the scope of this study to examine theologically the relationship of spiritual direo 593 tion to the sacrament of penance, such a relationship will be investigated in a later study. Nearly all the confessors gave some spiritual exhorta-tion, either general or personal, and the latter particu-larly when needed or requested: I simply invite them after each confession to bring up any problem they might have before dismissing them. Compara-tively few do so--maybe two per month. General direction is quite useless, a waste of breath. It de-pends on the penitent whether I give personal direction. Some gave a short homily to the assembled community as preparation for the reception of penance. There were a few, however, who merely gave absolution. Only in a few cases, judging from the confessors' re-sponses can we attribute lack of direction as a source of meaningless confessions. However, it is in this area of confessional exhortation that we find the greatest dis-parity between the priests' and the sisters' remarks. Table 2 indicates the number of sisters receiving dif-ferent types of spiritual exhortation or direction in the confessional. TABLE 2 Types of Direotion Received in'the Confessional Type of Direction Number of Sisters General . 58 Specific direction . 42 No direction at all . 33 Of those receiving general direction nineteen sisters stated that they wished to have this type of exhortation continued; four sthted that they did not want any direc-tion. It is noteworthy that thirty-four of the fifty-eight~ sisters receiving a general type of direction desired to have the exhortation related more to the spirit and tone of each penitent's confession, instead of vague, impersonal re-,. marks on some loosely connected topic, such as the Holy Souls: 0f course, I want and need direction. Perhaps I'm just looking for a spiritual pat on the back at times, but I don't want a confessor with stereotyped answers. I want him to + make me think things out. + If we add to these thirty-four sisters, the forty sisters + who receive a specific type of direction and wish to con- I. A. (?larmont, tinue doing so, then there is a total of seventy-four sis- , c~s~. ters indicating a preference for individual direction in sister M. Oe,,is, the confessional. A sister who received personal direction s.o.s. stated: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS At first I found it almost embarrassingly so, but it is of 594 great help, One sister receiving specific direction did not wish to have any at all; and another sister stated that she would rather ask for it when needed. Table 3, illustrating the helpfulness of the type of direction the sisters are presently receiving, is indicative of the sisters' preference for a more personalized exhorta-tion. TABLE 3 The Help.[ulness of Various Types of Spiritual Direction Degree of Helpfulness General Direction Specific Direction Total Possible 58 Total Possible 42 Helpful . 17 37 Not helpful . 21 1 Sometimes helpful . 20 4 Some of the nine sisters who stated that they did not wish to have direction of any type qualified their remarks as follows: No guidance wanted from this type of confessor. In some twenty years in religious life, I personally have met only one regular confessor who was genuinely interested in my prog-ress in holiness. From those receiving no direction whatsoever the fol-lowing remarks imply a sense of frustration or futility: Every week that I have gone to this confessor for the past five years he says, "Once again, Sister, leave it all to the mercy of God and for your penance say three Hail Mary's to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament." He gives no spiritual direction for anything less than sins of murder! Only four receiving no direction indicated that they did not wish to have any; twenty-nine stated a desire for di-rection of some kind. The whole area of spiritual direction is a delicate one since both the "feast or the famine" extremes pose evi-dent difficulties for the sisters. They would like the con-lessor to be interested and helpful, but without making them feel compelled to reveal themselves. For the con-lessor to ask a lead question such as: "Is there anything else you would like to say?" is welcome and leaves the individual free. As shown previously, many sisters are shy and reticent in the confessional. Such a question would provide them with an opening. From the sisters' viewpoint there seem to be few priests who really understand what they mean when asking for direction: There seems to be a lack of understanding for our way of life--for the desire to grow in love and union with God. Most just can't take the time to bother, or if they waht to help, Conlessions ot, Women Religiott~ VOLUME 26, 1967 595 they can't understand about our life. Some of the younger priests seem to have more of an understanding of spiritual direction in the confessional than many of the older ones. They have caught the spirit of the Council and of the "inner renewal," not just external changes, and have taken special interest in the direction of sisters. Tliere is overwhelming evidence from the survey that the sisters included in this sampling wish to receive di-rection in the confessional as indicated by 122 out of 133 sisters. As was seen, the strong preference is for a more personal exhortation. 10. Environment The problem area that appeared most frequently on the questionnaires is that of the physical environment of the confessional, with ninety-three sisters and thirty-two priests reporting dissatisfaction with the present situation. Table 4 gives a break-down of this figure. TABLE 4 Changes Desired by Confessors and Sisters in the Physical Environment of the Confessional Desired Changes Priests Sisters Wish improvements in the tradi-I tional .confessional . I 16 40 Wish face-to-face confessions in an open room . ] 16 53 4- I. A. Clarmonk, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S~O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 There was barely an aspect of the traditional con-fessional that escaped criticism. One priest dryly com-mented: o My experience is d, at while the sisters have built hospitals, schools, and motherhouses equal to the Taj Mahal, they have yet to build a decent confessional. Acoustics in most are poor. Severe criticism was leveled at the double confessional in which one sister said she "had been hearing confessions for years." For the deaf sisters this problem is acute. Poor placement of the confessional ranged from the front of the chapel where the sister "had to face the entire community when com-ing out" to the sacristy "where the sacristan had to be informed and evacuated for extra confessions." Both priests and sisters wished to dispel the dark gloomy at-mosphere in the confessional by more normal lighting. In short, "light, air, more room, and the opportunity to hear and to be heard" are needed. When referring to the type of confessional used, one sister noted that attitudes towards this beautiful sacra-ment could change, ':if the sisters were free to go to con-fession in the place they choose--a sunny, bright room or a closed confessional." Another asserted that any physical change which would make confession more of a sacra-ment of encounter would be helpful. A confessor wrote: I've already abandoned the confessional in the chapel for a portable in a small parlor where privacy is assured even for the hard-of-hearing, where I can look out at the birds, flowers, trees, and squirrels which remind me of the bounty of God whose largesse I am dispensing. For some, the focus of annoyance was the screen or grill in the traditional confessional: I simply cannot relate to a blank screen. It's torture trying to mumble your problems at a white screen. There appears to be relative unanimity among priest-confessors and sister-penitents in their mutual detestation of the confessional "box": ~ The gloomy secretive atmosphere of the confessional does not seem conducive to inspiring anyone with any 'particular joy at being the receiver of such a tremendous blessing. Let's get out of the sweat boxl Is it so necessary that women go to confession in a closed confessional? Can't canon law be revamped in this regard? After all, we say we meet Christ in penance. Why should a grill and darkness set His representative aloof from us? Many priests have decried the ordinary environment, that is, the confessional, as destructive of a personal re-lationship and meaningful confession: Have a place where sisters could be less formal and able to talk in a normal voice, not whispering. Thus they could see their confessor as a spiritual director and not a mere automaton dispensing sins in a machine-like way. Several suggested that confessions be heard in a counsel-ing room where privacy is assured and where both con-fessor and penitent can be at ease. The sisters also question the traditional confessional environment. External surroundings have a great in-fluence on one's attitudes and may have accounted for much of the fear which has accompanied the sacrament of penance for many sisters: Completely revamp the confessional. An across-the-desk or from-one-comfortable-chair-to-the-next would be much more conducive to sincerity and perhaps more practically effective. Christ met Nicodemus out on a rooftop, the adulterous woman in a temple courtyard, Zaccheus in a tree, the cripple at a public swimming pool, Dismas at a public execution. Why in the name of God, our Father, must He meet us in a dark, little, musty box with his hand in front of his eyes, his face turned away, through a screen or grill or even a plastic sheet? What's wrong with being face to face with His representative? in a lighted room? in a comfortable chair? in a relaxed and open manner. We talk about faith. What kind of faith do we show by hiding from the light and warmth of person-to-person communication? You can't take the light of faith and hide it + 4. 4- Conlessions o~ Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 597 4, 4. C.SsJL Sisger M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~98 in a box, but put it out in the open. Penance should be a two-way dialogue with both priest and penitent brought closer to Christ by the encounter. Although these expressions are opposed to a sacred tra-dition of confessional anonymity, yet all of them seem to carry, that cry for a more meaningful interpersonal re-lationship with the priest-confessor. They honestly seek to have a setting that will be more natural, more tiuman, and more conducive to genuine help from this wonderful sacrament. A choice, however, should be left for' the penitent--either a face-to-face accusation or the privilege of anonymity. 11. Rite Our present rite of the sacrament of penance fails to convey the full import of this sacrament: Certainly penance has ceased to be "public" except in name only. Much must be done to restore penance to its place in the public worship of the Church. " We need a complete revision of the liturgy of the sacrament to fit the real needs and become a living sign in their daily lives. Many confessors indicated a desire for communal ex-amination of conscience, for a preparatory homily prior to the reception of the sacrament, and for general abso-lution. Thirty-eight sisters expressed dissatisfaction with the present rite of penance. Of the thirty-eight, twenty-five wished" to have some form of communal penance with optional private confession; seven wished to have some communal exhortation or rite followed by private con-fession; and six wished to have minor changes made in the present rite: It is hard to realize the ecclesial or community aspect of penance under its preseht form. General absolution would make the sacraxnent of penance much more meaningful for me, and I am not a coward or lack-ing in faith when I say this. The development of these suggestions will be con-sidered in a later study when we deal with those factors .that should lead to a more meaningful celebration of this sacrament. Progress is being made by liturgists to make all the sacraments more meaningful. Certainly their reception in the vernacular has helped, but many are still concerned about a truly ex.pressive rite that con-veys the true meaning of the sacrament of penance. Conclusion As stated in the beginning of this study, our purpose is' not academic but practical. As one confessor wrote to I think a great deal of talking, discussion, and beefs have taken place about weekly confessors for sisters. Now it is time for action. I would like to see something done about it. I hope your study leads to some practical results. I love the sisters and feel they deserve to find a greater degree of the ful-fillment in Christ's love which they sought when they embraced the evangelical counsels. It is sincerely hoped that those responsible for the con-fessions of women religious from the diocesan chancery office to the local convent will examine and attempt to rectify some of the problems surrounding the reception of this sacrament. We have tried to show how the various factors which militate against a meaningful reception of penance are interrelated and therefore cannot be considered in iso-lation. The most obvious problem for both confessors and penitents is routine, but the most basic problem is the lack of freedom regarding time, place, confessor, and frequency. If sisters were given the responsibility to see to their own needs regarding penance, then--given normal conditions--time problems, all the difficulties related to the confessor would be eased. The sacramental rite in its present form is neither in-structive nor indicative of the ecclesial purpose of pen-ance. In addition, a truly Christ-like interpersonal rela-tionship between confessor and penitent is impeded by the physical surroundings of the confessional itself. However, for the individual sister, despite all external obstacles, the most effective remedy for routine is a thorough updating and continued education in the theology of the sacrament and its practical application in her own life. Because of little or no formation, the sisters do not really understand how to examine their consciences realistically and hence have great difficulty in the actual confession. These shortcomings on the part of the sister-penitent, in addition to weekly confession when often there is no real need, are greatly responsible for the confessor!s negative attitudes towards sisters' confessions. Underly-ing most of these difficulties lies the inability of the priest-confessor and the sister-penitent to see and to accept one another in their individual roles in the Body of Christ. It was evident from the questionnaires that there is grave mutual misunderstanding between the priest-confessors as a whole and the sister-penitents as a whole. The priests do not seem to comprehend the seriousness of all the problems concerned to the same extent that the sisters do. Many priests admit they do not know how to use the sacrament of penance as an fective source of spiritual growth and development. Furthermore, the sisters often close themselves to re-ceiving the good intentions of the confessor. We feel in-÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions o] Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 599 capable of judging where the fault lies but would like to suggest that both the confessor and the sisters in a given location openly discuss the problems pertinent to their situation. We owe our sincere gratitude to the confessors and sisters who took the time to answer the questionnaires so thoroughly and honestly. It has been a difficult but instructive task reading the questionnaires, assessing various responses, and attempting to be as objective as possible. We hope that our later study will indeed com-plement this negative analysis with truly positive aids towards making confession more satisfying for both confessor and penitent, creating mutual respect, charity, and joy. APPENDIX A FACSIMILE OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE SENT TO CONFESSORS Dear Father: As part of our work in Pastoral Theology at The Divine Word Centre, London, we are making a study of the confessions of women religious. For this purpose we are asking your cooperation in completing the following questionnaire. Your frank answers and any other comments you care to make would be greatly appreciated. Use the back of this paper if necessary. All replies . will be held in the strictest confidence. Please return the completed form UNSIGNED. Rev. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 1. Age ____ Diocesan Priest ____ Religious Priest __ (Check one) 2. Number of convents to which you are the regular confessor: + ]. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. , Sister M. Denis, S.O3. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 600 Approximate number of sisters in convent ___ Location of content: City ___ Town or village ____ (Check one) Type of sisters: C!oistered.___ Non-cloistered ___ (Check one) 3. Are you the pastor and/or chaplain to these sister's? Yes __ NO --- 4. If the convent is large, how many other regular confessors assist you? ____ 5. What is your impression of sisters' confessions, in general? Please be sharp and specific. 6. From your experience in hearing sisters' confessions, do you think that their examination of conscience is realistic and adequate? 7. What type of spiritual direction or counsel do you give? (i.e., personal or general) 8. What do you find most satisfying regarding sisters' confes-sions? 9. What is your greatest difficulty regarding sisters' coqfessions? I0. How could the Sacrament of Penance be made more meaning-ful for sisters? 11. Are there any changes you would like to make in the physical environment of the confessional (location, type, lighting, acoustics, etc.)? FACSIMILE OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE SENT TO SISTERS Dear Sister: As part of our work in Pastoral Theology at The Divine Word Centre, London, we are making a study of the confessions of women religious. For this purpose we are asking your cooperation in com-pleting the following questionnaire. Your frank answers and any other comments you care to make would be greatly appreciated. Use the back of this paper if necessary. All replies will be held in the strictest confidence. Please return the completed form UN-SIGNED. Rev. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 1 :' Age __ Occupation 2. Location of convent: City ____ Town or village ___ (Check one) 3. Number of sisters in Convent __ Number of weekly con-fessors ____ 4. Diocesan priest ___ Religious priest ___ (Check one) Is he your pastor and/or chaplain? Yes ___ No __ (Check one) 5. Are you satisfied with your confessor? Please give sharp and specific reasons. 6. How do you make your examination of conscience? 7. What type of spiritual direction or counsel (i.e., personal or general) does the confessor give? Do you want this? Do you find this helpful? 8. What do you find most beneficial in your reception of the Sacrament of Penance? 9. What do you think is the greatest difficulty in your reception of the Sacrament of Penance? 10. How could the Sacrament of Penance be made more meaning-ful for sisters? 1 I. Are there any changes you would like to make in the physical environment of the confessional (location, type, lighting, acoustics)? APPENDIX B STATISTICAL DESCRIPTION OF SAMPLING Priest-Confessors One hundred and ten questionnaires were ~nailed out to con-lessors o[ sisters. Among the returns were sixty-four completed questionnaires, oue partially completed, one letter stating the con-fessor's views and two letters stating that the confessors concerned were no longer occupied with hearing sisters' con[essions. The sam-pling included priests from seven Canadian provinces and two from the United States with representatives from forty-five towns or cities in twenty-one different dioceses. ÷ ÷ + Conlessions o] Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 Twenty-six priest-confessors were under forty-five years of age and thirty-five were over that age; six failed to state their age. Thirty-two of the sampling were diocesan priests and thirty-two 'were religious priests. Thirteen stated that they were the pastor and/or chaplain of the convent in which they heard confessioa~s, while forty-five were outsiders; two were retreat masters. Table 5 summarizes the size of the convents in which die priests heard confessions. TABLE 5 Size of Convent to which Priest-Con.lessors are Appointed 19 priests heard confessions in convents of 10 or fewer sisters. 12 priests heard confessions in convents of 10-25 sisters. 12 priests heard confessions in convents of 26-50 sisters. 4 priests heard confessions in convents of 51-100 sisters. 4 priests heard confessions in convents of over 100 sisters. ÷ ÷ ÷ I. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. $iste~ M. D$e.0n,i$s., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 Fifty-four priests were involved in hearing the confessions of non-cloistered sisters and five priests were involved in hearing the con-fessions of cloistered sisters. Thirty-three convents to which they were assigned as confessors are in the cities and twenty-two con-vents are located in small towns or villages. Certain discrepancies in the number of responses and the above totals are due to the fact that some priest-confessors failed to answer each requested item on the questionn.aire. Sister-Penitents ' ~ Out of a total of approxim.htely one hundred and sixty question-nalres sent to the sister~, one hundred and thirty-three were ~:e-turned, including thirty-three sister students at the Divine Word Centre. The sampling of one hundred and thlrty-three, although ~redominffntly Canadian, cuts across seven provinces, eight states, and represents sisters in twenty-six dioceses and eighty-one con-vents. The sampling was fairly equally divided according to age groups: sixty-six sisters were over thlrty-five years of age; sixty-six sisters were thirty-five or younger; and the age of one sister was un-known. Tables 6 and 7 indicate the occupations of the sisters and the size of the convents respectively. TABLE 6 Occupations o] Sisters Involved in the Sampling Occupation Cloistered . Teacher . Nurse . Social Worker . Administration . Catechist . Domestic . Missionary . Retired . Student . Novice . Unknown . Number 45 46 71 6 612811 TABLE 7 Size o.f Convents 18 sisters reside in convents of 5 or fewer sisters. 41 sisters reside in convents of 6-12 sisters. 15 sisters reside in convents of 13-25 sisters. 27 sisters reside in convents of 26-50 sisters. 32 sisters reside in convents of over 51 sisters. Eighty-one convents were located in the city; fifty-two in small towns, villages, or in the country. Ninety-one sisters indicated that their confessor was a diocesan priest. In twenty-three cases the priest was the pastor and/or chaplain; in one hundred and ten cases the priest was an outside confessor. " Conlessions o! Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 LADISLAS M. ~RSY, S.J. Chastity in Religious Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., is professor of canon law at the School ol: Theology; Fordham Univer-sity; ~ Bronx, New York 10458. : REVIEW=FOR RELIGIOUS Whenever the documents of the Council refer to conse-crated life and mention the three evangelical counsels, chastity takes priority over poverty and obedience. In establishing this new, .or apparently new order, the fathers of the Council followed an ancient tradition and also ex-pressed better the internal cohesion between the three counsels. They followed an ancient tradition because from the beginning of the life of the Church, consecrated virginity was considered the sign and the fruit of a spe-cial friendship with God. They expressed better the internal cohesion of the three aspects of our consecration, because it is through virginity that a special union is established between God and a human person. Detachment from material wealth in the form of poverty usually follows the charism of virginity. Both charisms can bring greater fruit if they are inserted into the life of the visible Church. This insertion is made through dedication to works of charity in a community, which is in effect consecration in obedience: Among the three, chastity is nearest to charity; it is the most personal expression of our dedication to God. Before any further explanation, it is necessary that I should clarify my own terminology. There are two key concepts which have to be defined. One is chastity, the other is virginity. Chastity is a virtue which disposes us to the observance of God's laws in all matters concerning sexual life. It has to be present in those who are married and in those who are not. When a person abstains from marriage it is fre-quently said that he is practicing perfect chastity, mean-ing that he is abstaining completely from any use of his sexual faculties. The expression can be used provided no one concludes that the virtue of chastity cannot be perfect in married people. The virtue can be perfect in them al-though their abstinence from sexual life is not omplete.1 The term virginity usually means perfect chastity in those who preserve the integrity of their body. One could object to this definition that virginity is conceived too much in a material sense. It would be better to speak about the spiritual.sense of virginity which means dedica-tion to God in perfect chastity with the intention of pre-serving the integrity of mind and body. Christian virgin-ity in the full sense means a permanent state, the permanent integrity of mind, heart, and body for the sake of the kingdom of God. It is a spiritual virtue. It disposes for a deep union with God and it is the fruit of such a union. Its most important aspect is not in the ma-terial integrity of the body--in itself it could not be a sign of Christian virginity--but in the integrity and in the permanent dedication of the person to God in perfect chastity. .In other words, there is not much difference between perfect chastity and virginity, provided "integrity" means the integral dedication of a person in mind, heart, and body to God. They both mean the same. If we want to remain faithful to the tradition of Christian terminology it would probably be better to speak about virginity than chastity. I shall use the expression virginity when I mean perfect chastity. By both I mean the consecration of a human person to God in integrity of mind and body which excludes any use of the sexual faculties. When I speak about virginity, I refer equally to men and women. When the term celibate is used, it is equivalent to virgin. As I shall explain, virginity is a framework, a container, for a union with God. THE BIBLICAL BACKGROUND The inspiration from Holy Scripture for an under-standing of the virtue of virginity comes in two ways: through the express pronouncements of the inspired texts about virginity and through the example of Christ, His Mother, and His disciples. The' biblical doctrine of a deep and experiential union with God is certainly a help to understand virginity better. XThe term perlect chastity is a misnomer; it misleads the un-initiated and does not express well the thought of the specialist in moral theology. It misleads the uninitiated because it seems to imply that perfect chastity cannot exist in marriage. It does not express the thought of the specialist in moral theology, because if perfect chastity can be achieved by the use of the sexual faculties in mar-riage, the complete abstention from the use of those faculties should not be described by the same term. Even if we agreed, however, that the term perIect chastity should-be abandoned for the descrip-tion of the state of celibacy or virginity, time would be still needed for an agreement on the new terminology. + + + Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 605 4. £,adislas M. Or&y, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 606 Some express pronouncements about virginity in the Old Testament can be found in the life of Jeremiah who remained celibate in order to underline his prophecy. In the New Testament the main texts about virginity are in the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. Luke, in the Epis-tles of St. Paul, and in the Apocalypse of St. John. All through the Scriptures there is an ever deepening empha-sis of this virtue. The life of Christ, the,life of the Mother of God, and the lives of many of the Apostles are in them-selves demonstrations of the Christian value of virginity; The biblical doctrine of a deep experiential union with God is of capital importance for the understanding of the virtue of virginity. This union can be so captivating for a human heart that the person does not want to conclude any close union with a human person. The presence of God in him brings about a special fruit: he wants to re-main virgin. I shall speak mainly about the express references of the Bible to virginity, but I shall refer frequently to the union from which virginity originates,u Jeremiah the Prophet The concept of virginity developed gradually. Its earli-est roots are in the Old Testament. Christian virginity is somewhat foreshadowed in the life of Jeremiah. The prophet embraced celibacy and he himself explained the reason for it: The word of the Lord was addressed to me as follows: "You must not take a wife or have son or daughter in this place. For the Lord says. this regarding the sons and daughters to be born in this place, about the mothers who give birth to them, and about the fathers who beget them in tl~is land: They will die of deadly diseases" Uer 16:1-4). Celibacy in the life of Jeremiah was a prophecy by ~ The purpose of this biblical background is not to prove that the state of celibacy or virginity is an excellent way of following Christ, but to recall the biblical teaching for those who believe in the excellency of the gift. The relevant texts are fragmentary and their full meaning may not be immediately evident. The facts reported in the New Testament, such as the virginal life of Christ, the virginity of His Mother, do not lend themselves to lengthy explanations. They all have a pregnant meaning, though, which was clearly understood by the Church from the apostolic times and ex-ternally manifested by the praise of virginity. Within the scope of a short article the explanations of the texts had to be restrained to the most essential points. A detailed and fine analysis of The Biblical Doctrine o! Virginity by Lucien Legrand, M.E.P., is availa-ble in English, published by Sheed and Ward, New York, 1963. I am indebted to the author and grateful for his work. His analyses of the texts of St. Luke are particularly thought-provoking. Father Legrand stresses also the theological idea of virginal ]ecundity, but 15erhaps not enough the immediate apostolic meaning of the scriptural texts on virginity. The strongly apostolic character of virginity appears everywhere included in the meaning of the terms. deed. He was announcing to the people of Jerusalem that the day of judgn3.ent was coming. In order to demonstrate the proximity of the disaster Jeremiah did not take a wife. Through his celibacy he was crying out that the judg-ment of the Lord was coming and that all should be pre-pared for it. His celibacy had a prophetic value. Paul the Prophet The same thefiae is taken up in the New Testament by St. Paul/He is not concerned with the destruction of Jerusalem. He is concerned with the second coming of the Lord, with the universal manifestation of His glory. Paul is so full of hope that he wants to bypass the realities of this present world of shadows in order to center his at-tention on tl~e expectation of the Lord. He writes to the Corinthians: About remaining celibate, I have no directions from the Lord but give my own opinion as one who, by the Lord's mercy, has stayed faithful. Well then, I believe that in these present times of stress this is right: that it is good for a man to stay as he is (1 Cor 7:25-6). The "present times of stress" here is due to the fact that they were in expectation of the Pa~ousia, the day of judg-ment, the day of the manifestation of the power of the Lord. The underlying idea in the statement of Paul is that the very fact that he remains a celibate dec'lares not in words but in a deed that the real permanent values are in a different wgrld. The prophetic, aspect of celibacy is present in Paul's thought. But while Jeremiah was con-cerned in a somewhat negative way with the tem~poral ruin of Jerusalem, Paul is centered on the coming of the eternal kingdom of Christ. Thr6ugh celibacy he declares that this world is to be transformed into a new spiritual universe. Matthew and the Kingdom In the Gospel of St. Matthew the internal relationship between the state of virginity and the kingdom of God is described. The most important passage on celibacy follows the promulgation by Christ of the new law: a man shouId not divorce his wife. Then: The disciples said to him, "If that: is how things are between husband andwife, it is not advisable to marry." But he replied, "It is not everyone who can accept what I have said, but only those to whom it is granted. There are eunuchs born that way from their mother's womb, there :are eunuchs made so by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:10-2). The key concept of the text is that to abstain from marriage receives its full mea.ning when it is done on .I. + + VOLUME 26, 1967 607 ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS behalf.o{ the heavenly kingdom. There is a close relation-ship between the kingdom of Christ and .that state of celibacy or virginity. It is stated also that no one can grasp this gift for himself but it is given to those who are ¯ able to accept what God offers to them. In other words, celibacy is a gift of God. Matthew means by the kingdom of heaven the fulfill-ment of God's promises, the presence of the kingdom foretold by the prophets, announced by John the Baptist, preached by Christ, and to be preached by the Apostles. Celibacy in itself would be empty and without purpose; it receives its meaning through the kingdom. The kingdom means the internal kingdom in the hearts of man and the kingdom to be spread through the preach-ing of the gospel. When a gift is given on behalf of the kingdom, all aspects of the kingdom have to be included. The gift is given to dispose the heart to receive the word of God and to strengthen the person to preach it. Both the sanctifying and the strongly apostolic aspects of virginity are there in Christ's words as reported by Matthew. This kingdom is partially present because Christ is present, and He opened His kingdom to all who repent and are ready to follow Him. It is also to come because the Spirit has not descended, yet on the Apostles and dis-ciples. The concept of virginity in Matthew's Gospel is a complex one: virginity is witnessing present reality and points to a future event. It is the sign of the kingdom present, and of the kingdom to come. The kingdom is present; for its sake one can be celibate. There is no need to wait. At the same time the prophetic value remains, since the fullness of God's promises is still to come. Celibacy points towards the eschatological fullness or per-fection. One could say that in the life of a celibate person reality and prophecy coincide. Virginity is a sign of the kingdom present here and now and of the kingdom to come when Christ appears in His glory. Let us note that virginity is not a condition to enter the kingdom but it is a special gift within the kingdom for., those who can accept it. Matthew makes it clear that he conceives celibacy as a particular gift given by God to some who are following Christ and are disciples of Christ. Not all followers and all disciples will have the same gift. .,In another passage, Matthew reports the saying of Christ that in the resurrection there is no such thing, as marryi~ng or°being given in marriage: For at the resurrection men and women do not marry;~ no, they are like the angels.in heaven (Mr 22:30). o In other words, the state of' virginity is~ the beginning of the same state of life in some whidh will be the ~hare of all who will enter the heavenly kingdom. In heaven there will be no need for procreation because the number 6f the chosen ones will have be~n completed. The king-dom of God will be there in its fullness. Marriage would be purposeless. It follows that the state of virginity is the beginning of the state of imniortality. Through it a person takes up his final status in the kingdom of God. Luke and the Following of Christ Luke leads us even further into the mystery of virginity. For Luke, as for Matthew, the kingdom of God has come with Christ. But Luke gives more thought to the relation-ship of a disciple to Christ; to the union that exists be-tween Christ and His follower." For him virginity is the sharing in a special way of the death and also of the glorification of Christ. Special way here means an indi-vidual vocation, not given to all believers. The most im-portant text is: He said to them, "I tell you solemnly, there is no one wh~ has left house, wife, brothers, parents, or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will noLbe given repayment many times over in this present time and,~in the world to come, eter-nal life" (Lk 18:29-30). He who follows Christ by 1.eaving behind his wife, that is by taking up the state of celibacy, leaves this world and enters another one. He shares the condition of Christ who is leaving this world to enter into the house of His Father. The person who leaves behind hig wife and all that he has in this world shares the death of Christ. Another text from St. Luke proves that this is not an exaggeration: If any man conies to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple (Lk 14:26-7). That is, there is an analogy between leaving behind one's wife and family and taking UP the cross. There is an analogy between celibacf and leaving one's own life and dying with Christ. To follow Christ means to leave this visible and tangible world and the persons or objects most precious to us and to go into an unknown world. To leave behind one's own wife is the sharing in the life of Christ; it is sharing His cross and His death. In Luke's Gospel the theology of: the life of a Christian as life in Christ is emerging. It is necessary to be :unite.d to Christ's cross in order to participate in His eternal life. Finally, as in Matthew's Gospel, in Luke's too, the king-dom has a dynamic character: it has to grow and expand. To become celibate for the kingdom'ssake means to tal~e a share in the building of the kingdg~n, in the saving acts of Christ--celibacy has an apostolic character and finality. + + + Chastity VOLUME 2~, 1.967 609 4- 4- Lad/s/as M. Orsy, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 610 Paul and the Glory o/ Godn The new theme of sharing the glory of Christ through virginity is best expressed by St. Paul in 1 Cot 7:25-39. He does not say that matrimony is wrong. On the con-trary, marriage is good. But he says: I would like to see you free from all worry. An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs,, all he need worry about is pleasing the Lord; but a married man has to bother about the world's affairs and devote himself to pleasing his wife: he is torn two ways. In the same way an unmarried . woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord's affairs;' all she need worry about is being holy in body and spiyit. The married woman, on the other hand, has to worry about the world's affairs and devote herself to pleasing her husband. I say this only~ to help you, not to put a halter round your necks, but simply to make sure that everything is as it should be, and that you give your undivided attention to the Lord (1 Gor 7:32-5). Being holy in body and spit.it: the word holy is the key to the understanding of the text. When Paul uses the expression holy he uses it according tolthe Old Testament tradition. Anything is holy which has been sanctified by God through the presence of His glory and power, For the Israelites Mount Sinai was holy because the glory of God descended on it. The temple of Jerusalem was holy for them because the presence of God overshadowed its internal sanctuary which was called the Holy of Holies. A person who receives the gift of virginity is holy because the power and g~ory of God descended on him, over-shadowed him, and consecrated him. We should try to put ourselves into the mind of Paul. For him the Temple of Jerusalem had no more meaning. The sacrifices of the Old Testament came to an end and the holiness of God left the Temple. Now the holiness of God resides in every Christian and in a particular way in those who received the gift of virginity. Those who re-ceived this special gift are consecrated temples of God. Their lives belong to the. new cult of a new age, the age of the Spirit. They are overshadowed by the divine presence, therefore they are holy. In their lives a new cult, a new liturgy emerges, similar to that which will be the cult and liturgy of the eternal and immortal kingdom of God. In this sense the soul and the body of a celibate person has been assumed into the spiritual kingdom of God. Another approach to the theology of St. Paul on mar-riage and virginity can be made through the ~Epistle to a Xavier L~on-Dufour, S.J.0 published an excellent article on St. Paul's doctrine on marriage and virginity. He shows how in ~the mind of St. Paul marriage belonged to the earthly realities of the kingdom of God, and virginity to the kingdom to come. See "Mar-iage et virginit~ selon saint Paul," in Christus, v. 11 (1964), pp. 179-94. the Ephesians. Since for St. Paul marriage belongs to this transient world and is a temporal institution, it can stand as a symbol or sign of Christ's union with His Church. Paul is taking an earthly reality, marriage, to demonstrate and illustrate a heavenly mystery. Virginity is not an earthly reality, therefore it cannot be taken to illustrate something final. Virginity is a final reality in itself. It is the final state of God's chosen ones. It cann6t serve as a symbol for anything else. There is nothing be-hind a reality which is final. In the virgin the mystery of the resurrection is already present and alive because his soul and body have been consecrated by the Holy. Spirit. Paul states many times that it was the Spirit of the Father who raised Christ from the dead. It is the same Spirit who gives new life to a human person, vivifies him through the gift of virgin.ity, raises him from this world, and gives him the power and glory of the ~vorld to come: The life of virgins has an analogy with the life of God's blessed ones in heaven. , In St. Paul's theology to receive the, gift of virginity means to receive the strength and glory of the Spirit of the Father and of Christ ::in a special way. And the virgin belongs to God precisely because he has received this special gift. The Facts of Our Redemption To the analysis of these many texts a substantialremark should be added: the four Gospels, the Epistles, and the other documents of the New~ Testament.literally~ breathe the atmosphere of virginity. In the center of them is Christ who was virgin. He was born from a woman who remained virgin. Among the Apostles John was whom Jesus loved. John, too, was a virgin. St. Paul, perhaps the most dynamic among the Apostles, declares his intention to remain celibate. In the description of heaven in the Book of the Apocalypse those who are saved are described as virgins. The text witnesses the author's esteemffor the state of virginity:4 Next in my vision I saw Mount Sion, ~nd standing on it~a Lamb who had with him a hundred and forty-four thousan'd people, all with his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads. I heard,a so, und coming o.ut of the sky like the souhd of the ocean or tlie roar of thunder: it seemed to be the sound of harpists playing their harps. There in front of the throne they were singing a new hymn in the presence of the four animals andthe elders, a hymn that could only be learnt by the hundred and forty-four thousand ~ who had been re-deemed from the world. These are ~he ones who have kept their virginity and not been defiled with ~b6men; they follow the Lamb wherever he goes; they have b~n redeemed from amongst men to be the first-fruits for God and fdr the Lamb~ t Cf. Kittel-Friedrich, Th~ologisches Wb'rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, Band V, parthenos, p. 835. ° Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 gll ÷ ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS They never allowed a lie to pass their lips and no fault can be found in them (Ap 14:1-5). THEOLOGICAL REFLECTION Christian virginity is so closely connected with the in-carnation, with the distribution of graces in the Church, and with the presence of eternal life here on the earth that it has something of the nature of a. mystery. There-fore it cannot be fully explained by concepts and defini-tions, although they can be of help. However, images and symbols from our Christian tradition can take over where the notional knowledge ends; and they can convey a deeper understanding of God's gift. Some clear theological principles will help to .prepare the. ground for this understanding: (a) Christian virginity is not identical with divine char-ity. If it were, the kingdom of God would b.e reserved to virgins, and to virgins alone. But the kingdom is open to all men of good will whether they be married or virgins. Since charity is infused into our hearts by the Spirit, every man who is called to live by charity is called to live in the Spirit. Therefore,, the union with the Spirit of God is not the privilege of the virgins. All are called to a divine union. (b) Virginity removes "'some obstacles which might draw a person away [rom the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship, (Lumen gentium, 44). Frankly, this is a negative principle. Yet it has a real meaning. It expresses that virginity is dying to this world in order to be raised to a.nother one. The dying is neces-sary because the internal dynamism of a human person is far from being fully balanced. In many cases it centers on human persons and on temporal care with such an intensity that it is not able to rise to a generous love of God. The mystery of the cross is shining through here. (c) Virginity helps a person to derive more fruit from his baptismal grace. It is not the baptismal grace. Chris-tians are baptized for a life of charity, and not that of virginity. But virginity can help in developing thee bap-tismal grace by creating an internal dynamism which turns a human person fully and continuously toward Christ and eternal life. A human heart can be great enough to love God alone. Virginity introduces a certain alertness and sensitivity to the. inspirations of the Holy Spirit, a certain readiness to follow them. (d) Virginity is the fruit of baptismal grace. There is no spiritual gift which is not rooted in some way in the baptismal grace; in the personal presence of the Spirit in a Christian. Virginity is a special fruit, it is given to some and not to all. The reason for giving it to a de-termined person is hidden at the depth of God's thoughts; we could never find it. Since the gift of virginity is rooted in the baptismal grace, it carries the mark of Christ's death and resurrection. These few theological principles do no more than to clear the ground for further thought. They will also bring some clarity into the coming explanation--or should I say--contemplation of Christian virginity. Man Was Created to Have a Companion To balance the abstract principles it is good to turn to a basic fact of human life. God made man to have a companion. This need is built into a human person's body and soul. It comes from God Himself, and no man can change it: The Lord God said: "It is not good that the man should be alone. I will make him a helpmate" (Gn 2:18). This need is fulfilled in marriage, which is a deep personal union between man and woman. They become one flesh, as St. Paul says; and what is even more impor-tant, they should become one spirit. The physical union of their bodies should be an expression of their spiritual union. Marriage is not perfect unless the union ex-tends to the two persons' mind, heart, and body. When this union exists between a man and a woman, it be-comes so absorbing, so absolute that it excludes any simi-lar union with a different person. There follows the duty of mutual fidelity. Human nature can be enriched by one union, but it is too limited to have a marital union with more than one person. The union in marriage is holy. Christ Himself made it a sacrament. St. Paul has chosen it to be the symbol of Christ's union with the Church. Marriage is in fact so good and so fulfilling for a man or for a woman that it would be unwise to refuse it in ordinary circumstances. It can be wise however to accept a call from a divine Person who promises love and companionship in a way that no human being can give. When God Offers Himself to Be a Companion to a Human Person From the fact that man was created to have a com-panion, now we turn to an existential event. It is the irruption of a new experience into a human life: God offers Himself to be the one and exclusive companion of a man. It happens in a new encounter between God and man; it is the offer of a covenant. It comes from the jealous God of Israel. Let us see its terms.5 ~This experience happens substantially to anyone who decides to take up the state of celibacy or virginity, since no one can do so without first realizing the overwhelming value of a friendship 4- 4- 4- Chastity VOLUME 26, 613 + + + Ladislas M. Orsy, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 Companionship has a special sense here. God is the friend of every Christian, of every human being. Son'/e-times, however, He wants to keep up a special friendship, a refreshing and exhilarating friendship with a human person through a personal conversation or dialogue, through the communication of His kno~wledge and of His love, through union which excludes distractions and too deep roots in this world of shadows. The human person will not be immediately holier for this offer, but he will have a source of holiness if he accepts God's gift in faith and fidelity. The companionship offered carries the seal of God's immensity; He reveals something of His wealth and riches. He does not mislead the person; from the begin-ning it is clear that He is a spiritual being and that His friendship moves on a transcendent plane. What He offers is a communion in His Spirit, the sharing of divine things in a divine way. The offer attracts the whole hu-man person, it appears as satisfying the deepest of human aspirations, It is an experience of God's presence. It is overwhelming. It takes possession of a human person. Jeremiah's words in his confessions could be applied to it: You have seduced me, Lord God, and I have let myself be seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger (Jer 20:7). It is the irruption of divine strength into the life of man. When God concludes this special companionship with a man, any other deep union with a human being, as happens in marrizige, is excluded. The result of God's invitation, or, to use the biblical term, of God's seduction, is that a new type of spiritual union is concluded between God and man. A personal conversation begins and a dia-logue. Knowledge and love are being communicated and man is enriched by it. But, since a human being is lim-ited, he cannot contract a human union, that is marriage, which would in its own way be deep and absorbing, too. Therefore, the right conclusion of this special visitation of God is consecration in virginity. Virginity becomes the fruit of God's call, fi'amework of God's presence, and the best disposition to hear God's words in silence. Through virginity the heart and the mind, the soul and the body are established in a silence, with God. However, this realizatiou may be implicit and inarticu-late, and the person may not be fully aware of it. In a reflexive way he may know only that he wants to be a priest or a nun. But if his vocation is a genuine one, theologically there cannot be any doubt that an inspiration .of the Holy Spirit preceded his desire and that the inspiration was perceived. This obscure and initial encounter with God will have to develop later into a clearer and more penetrating experience of God's presence in a Christian per- SOIl, in a sensitivity, in which communication with God is made easier. No wonder if a man does not want to con-clude a marriage in these circumstances. Of course, God's companionship is spiritual. But the spiritual grace is infused into the whole person, into the soul and the body as one, and it begins to give a new balance to the whole man, including his body. That is why a man who has no companion ac.cording to the law of his nature can appear happy, balanced, and relaxed. The spiritual is holding the material in equilibridm. Return to the Bible: Mary and Paul The specific gift of virginity consists in a particular strength which balances the natural instincts of the body in a spiritual way. There is an experience and there is a new strength infused into a human being. A description of this call and of this communication of strength is given by St. Luke through the words of Mary in the Magnificat. Mary declares in it that she experienced the communica-tion of a particular strength from God which kept her virgin and made her mother. Therefore she is full of joy ¯ and is praising God: And Mary said: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit exults in God my savior; because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, [or the Almighty has done great things for me. "Holy is his name, and his mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear him. He has shown the po.wer of~ his arm, he has routed the proud of heart. He has. pulled down princes from their thrones and ex-alted the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things, the rich sent empty away. He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his mercy according to the promise he made to our ancestors of his mercy to Abraham and to his descendants for ever (Lk 1:46-55). All through the prayer there is a declaration that Mary had an experience, and it was the communication of a particnlar strength from the Spirit of' God. It kept her virgin and made her mother: There is a sense of fulfillment, of elation, of deep gratitude in this prayer. The Creator and His creature found each other in a new relationship. The gift of virginity includes the experience of a new type of union with God which is a communication of strength. Without this experience no one could ever Chastity VOI;UME 26, 1967 Ladlslas M. Orsy, .~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 d~clare that he wished to be a virgin because he simply would not know that God offers this gift to him. Paul also describes the effect of this call and of this communication of strength:; I would lik~ to see you free from all wdi'ry. An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs, all he need worry about is pleasing the Lord; but a married man has to bother about the-world's affairs and devote himself to pleasin~ his wife: be is torn two ways. In the same way an unmarried woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord's affairs; all she need WOrry about is being holy in body and spirit. The married woman, on the other hand, has to worry about the world's affairs and devote herself to pleasing her husband (1 Cor 7:32-4). , What Paul is saying is that the unmarried men and women receive a new freedom to enjoy God's presence-- His glory and His power in them'. Also they: are free to, plan how to bring the good message of the Gospel to others. A new strength frees them from human bonds and gives them divine energy. Living in union with Christ is the ~ift of all the elect. Virginity is the gift of some; it is a framework for this union. About the Union That Gives Life to Virginity The union which is enframed by virginity is the'corn-mon union of all Christians with the thre~ divine Persons. The specific gift of virginity is a certain transparence of this union in our consciousness, an obscure experience of God's personal presence, which is so strong in its weak-ness that it calls a man away from human companionship and installs him in "God's re-creating friendship.No per-son could desire virginity, unless he found another per-son who is more lovable than any man. The union with God takes place on a spiritual level; it is not a material communication. It strengthens the spirit of the human person who receives it, but in no way fulfills his natural desire to be one with a human com-panion. Yet, it makes the man whole, and the spiritual abundance that he receives reverberates in the body so much that there is a decreasing sense of frustration 'and an increasing experience of fulfillment for the whole person. Natural instincts do not die, but they begin to learn to give way to new impulses which come from the Holy Spirit. In other terms, God gives a spiritual gift, but this gift is never transformed into a material medi-' cine, The physical and psychological laws of human nature remain in operation; ther~ is no miracle. An example will illustrate my thought. When the. Holy Spirit inspires a person to take up fasting for the sake of the kingd6m, for some spiritual g6od, the Spirit is not promising that the person ~oncerned will not be hungry. He will be. The Spirit is effectively pledging Himself only to give a new spiritual strength that helps to bear the hunger for some greater good. However, the spiritual strength will balance the whole person and may make him happy and relaxed even if hungry--provided the fasting remains within the limits of prudence. Similarly, the spiritual union with God from which virginity originates does not fulfill the desires of the body. They remain unfulfilled. But the Holy Spirit lifts the whole man into another, spiritual world where the grace of God enriches even the body. Virginity ls an Anticipation of the Grace of Our Resurrection With the Resurrection of Christ and the coming of the Holy Spirit, God's glorious kingdom entered into our human history. With the dawn of the first Christian Easter and with the day of the first Christian Pentecost, a new glorious age began, an age that God the Father had prepared from all eternity, revealed through His Son, and perfected by the sending of His Spirit. In this new age, to which we belong, immortal glory and power is being distributed among the children of men through the Holy Spirit. Heaven meets earth, eter-nity joins time. The grace of virginity, as it springs from charity, belongs to this age. Those who are baptized in Christ died in their baptism with Him and were raised from the dead in Him. The glory and power of His Resurrection is on them; it heals them, strengthens them, and makes them long for the manifestation of the glory of the children of God that is hidden now. The gift of virginity is a small share in the glory of the risen Christ. St. Paul says that the body of Christ was vivified by the Spirit; the Resurrection was the infusion of the strength of the Spirit into the inert body of Christ. The grace of virginity is the infusion of the strength of the Spirit into a mortal man, the infusion of a spiritual strength that makes the body more alive than it ever was; alive with a new spiritual strength in a new spiritual kingdom. Virginity is the sharing of the grace of the risen Christ, a small anticipation of our own resurrection, a spiritual grace that vivifies the body, the manifestation of the hidden glory of God's children. Hence the transformation. Those who are virgins are anxious about the affairs of the Lord. The point of gravi-tation of their life is in a new world. Hence the spiritual alertness of the whole person to the inspirations of the Spirit, the sensitivity of new light and fuller love. The eternal kingdom of God is present in this temporal ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ + Ladislas M. Orsy, ~ S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 618 world; the divine gift is carried in a container made from clay; This circumstance does not change the nature of the gift, but it :should make the person who ,received it cautious. Virginity Is a Dynamic Virtue The gift 0f virginity could be easily conceived as a static, perfectly finished gift, which once given stays with the person forever, provided he does not willingly lose it or destroy it. Nothing is further from the truth. The parable of the mustard seed applies to virginity, as to any other Christian virtue. In the beginning it is a small seed: it needs the. evangelical good soil to grow and to develop. As a young plant it is tender ~ind sensitive: it needs help and protection. But when it grows into a large tree it can stand alone, it can weather the storm, and it can give shelter to many. The dynamic character of the virtue of virginity is rooted in our union with the Trinity. The union is not a' static gift. Once given, it is there to develop steadily. The impact of God's presence on the life of a Christian should continuously increase; the love of God that was infused into his heart should help him to grow into the full stature of Christ. Since virginity originates in this union, it has the same dynamic character as the union. The union of the Virgin Mary ,~ith the Holy Spirit was perfect; therefore the strength of her virginity was perfect too. A similar law applies to other human beings: the strength of their union with God is reflected in the strength of their virginity--if they received this gift. No exception is 'possible: virginity cannot be stronger than the union. It will be plain human and Christian wisdom to draw th& practical consequences. There are no two persons who are equally gifted, there are no two persons who are equally strong. Each one should honestly assess his gift and live accordingly. When the good seed of virginity. is sown into a human nature which is full of emotional turmoil and imbalances, the seed can be killed easily-- Christ our Lord says so. The growing plant will need care and attention. If it is not given, the plant may perish. But what wise man would build a wall to protect a strong, fully grown tree? The tree should stand free so that the weary pilgrims on their way to the new Jerusalem can see it from afar and can find shelter and protection. under its strong branches. ¯ The wisdom in preserving virginity is in sensing and following the progress indicated by the Spirit. To seek too much human fulfillment while the gift of virginity is taking.root may cut short a developing special friendship with God. The, friends of God were always trained and tested in some sort of desert, It may have been symbolic, it may have been spiritual, but desert it was. It can be bypassed only in the imagination of some, neverin real-ity. Not even Christ bypassed it. But when the gift of virginity develops, it is a light that has to shine, it is leaven that has to be put into the mass, it has to sanctify our world. Therefore, apart from par-ticular and specialized vocations, the virgins should meet the people of God and talk to them about the kingdom: that it is here. They should announce the good news in a loud voice (the Gospel uses the expression, "on the rooftop"), and they should ~ommunicate the love and charity that is in them to every human being. Such bibli-cal ideas should help wit.h the problem of the revision, of the law of enclosure or the involvement of consecrated persons in this world. To enclose a light can be a sin against the Spirit, Some will ask, no doubt, is there not a danger that the light might be extinguished sometimes? There is such danger and it can be taken for granted that there will be lights which will fall victim of the darkness: But.the answer is not in enclosing all the lights behind strong walls, but in letting even more lights to shine so that the world can see the sign of God's presence on the earth. The aim and purpose of consecrated virginity is to make the communication of God's love easier. Virginity has a meaning only "for the sake of the kingdom"-Zthe kingdom to be spread. To make the preaching and the teaching of the kingdom more difficult for those who are consecrated persons is to reverse the hierarchy of Chris-tian values. It would mean to imprison the love of God for the sake of precautions. Virginity in ordinary circum-stances is given for the sake of better dedication to an apostolic task, for a better communication of graces. The Aposiolic Finality o[ Virginity The value of virginity is not in itself. It is in its rela-tionship to our union with Christ and to His kingdom. Virginity is like good soil [or the union: those who are not married are anxious to be holy in body and spirit, and they are anxious about the affairs of the Lord (see 1 Cor 7:34). Every Christian is a disciple and an apostle of His Master. It follows that the union that he has with Christ has to be deepened and has to :be communicated to others. .It is in this~ communication that the apostolic finality of virginity comes to the fore. Not in the simple and somewhat crude, sense alone that because a virgin has no family, he is therefore free in time and space to meet others. Nor only in the sense that he can be better dedi- + + + VOLUME 26, 1967 619 cated. True, when it is a question of going to foreign lands or to persons afflicted with contagious diseases the celibate priest is in a better position than the married one. Yet, the substance of the question is not there. It is in the intensity of God's love that can develop in a virgin and can be communicated with a freedom that only virginity can give. This freedom is primarily in-ternal: God's message flows through a humanmind and heart and is not interfered with by our human ways of thinking and doing. The union given to a Christian is a dynamic gift: it has to be communicated--the kingdom has to expand. Virginity is the best vehicle given for this expansion. It is thus that the saying of Christ about celibacy "on behalf of the kingdom" receives its full meaning: it includes the spreading 9f the kingdom. Therefore, seclusion within a cloister or an enclosure remains a specific vocation: holy and legitimate, blessed and praised by the Churcl~, but not ordinary. The com-mon evangelical rule is that the virgin and the celibate has the vocation to facilitate the propagation of the king-dom. Any other interpretation would suffer from an in-ternal contradiction. The cult of virginity is valid in the context of apostolic life: it is given to facilitate the com-munication of God's message. I say this with profound respect for those who have a different vocation and have to serve God within the cloister. Their virginity exists to carry an intense prayer life and to serve the kingdom's cause through prayer. It is through prayer that the apostolic finality of virginity is fully present there. + + + Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Community Life and Consecrated Virginity It is natural that those human persons who receive the special gift of virginity like to come together and like to form a community. Such a community itself should be marked by the virtue of virginity in its internal relations among the members and also in its external relations with others. Internally, within the community, the gift of virginity should free each of the members from human anxieties and make him more able to spread the love of God. Therefore personal communications should be easier and more relaxed than in any other type of community. The purpose of the members should be the introduction of each other into the mystery of the union with God. We come back to the same principle: the meaning of virgin-ity is to increase the love of God and the expansion of it. Practical consequences abound. Overstressed silence can paralyze this communication, and so can restrictive prac-tices in matters of meetings and correspondence among the members of the same religious institute. Such prac- ticds have an opposite purpose to the one that God has given to virginity. Virginity is given to free the person, even externally in human relations, and not tobuild a wall round him. Also the way of life of the community should reflect the impact ¯ of the grace of virginity on them as a .community. It should favor a delicate sensitivity to grace which is so characteristic for virginity. The community should have an integrity of mind and spirit in all common actions, an integrity that is a dedication to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit. Briefly, the atmosphere in the community should favor an all pervading union with God. Happiness and relaxa-tion are of primary importance in creating a common disposition for God's grace. Strains and tensions are probably the most common impediments to God's work-- even if strains and tensions are the result of common ob-servance. The human faculties become paralyzed and are not able to perceive God's graces, still less able to sustain a loving attention to Him. Man is a social being, and can-not be anything else. By renouncing the close companion-ship of marriage, he is not renouncing his social being. Therefore, he needs a happy and relaxed community life with all the freedom that virginity can add to it. If any-thing, the ~gift of {,irginity makes a person more social than he ever was: it opens him up to all. The spirit of friendship is favored in a good commu-nity. And in saying this, I am moving on biblical grounds, and I am faithful to Catholic traditions. Nowhere in the Bible is friendship condemned; it is praised in many places, and it is present in the lives of many good persons. The history of the Church is full of the history of great friendships; There cannot be a healthy relationship with God without a health); relationship with human friends. However, in 'individual cases the natural and super-natural resources that a person has should be taken into account. If someone is strongly rooted in God's grace, friendship becomes a source of grace too. If someone is not sutfi-ciently rooted in God's love, the balance of natural in-stincts and supernatural gifts is precarious in him, and he may approach the best opportunity for friendship with a confused mind and unruly emotions. Each co.mm.unity, as each person, needs wisdom to know the limitations of its strength. They need determination to protect them-selves when it is necessary, .and supernatural courage to discard unnecessary restrictions. The friendship of those who are consecrated persons can be best described as the friendship of travelers. They all go and look in the same direction. The friendship + + + ~lmstity VOLUME 26, 1967 6~1 Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 622 between a man and a woman which develops into mar-riage can be described as the friendship of dwellers. They look at each other. A sign of a good friendship is also that it does not have a sl~irit of exclusiveness. On the contrary, it wants to expand. The friends are eager to share what they have with many others. The better friends they are, the less they are involved with each other. They are in-volved together in others. Perhaps this is the place to mention that virginity can be destroyed by overprotection. A virgin renounces mar-riage, but he does not renounce social and commun, ity life. If, in order to protect virginity, genuine and happy social relations are destroyed, a person is deprived of one of his most basic human needs and native rights. There-fore, a fundamental sense of frustration is bound to arise in him causing tension and unhappiness. This may lead to the conviction that he had no vocation to virginity, which in these circumstances would be a false conclusion. However, since the frustration persists, a young man may leave the seminary, or a young woman may give up re-ligious vocation. The gift of virginity was destroyed by misguided good will. It does not follow in any way that sentimental and futile social relationships should be fostered: it is toward health that we aim and not to a new type of illness. A community of consecrated persons will have to consider also what the right balance should be in its relationship with those who do not belong to the community. The greater the impact of grace on the community and the closer its union with God, the less enclosure they will need; the less the community is rooted in union with God, the stricter the enclosure ought to be. It could also be said: the happier the community, the less restrictions are needed, because the internal happiness will anchor every person to the community and will ca.ll him back when he is away from it. But it will take a barrage of rules to keep an unhappy community together, since all natural (and even supernatural) forces will pull the per-sons away from it. The Gift of Virginity: Sanctification of the Person, Sanctification of the Church Virginity could be looked at as a purely personal gift, given for the sanctification of an individual. True, vir-ginity could exist without being inserted into the ex-ternal, visible life of the Chur.ch, in fact, without the Church knowing about the gift at all. A person is fully entitled to accept the gift of God and remain silent about it. Virginity could be looked at also as a gift for the sake of the others only. A sign that leads others to eternity, but which is not for the sanctification of the one who received it. Both approaches are one-sided. All gifts in the Church are for both, the sanctification of the person who receives it and for the good of the whole Church. Abraham be-came the friend of God and the forefather of all believers. David was chosen to be a king according to Yahweh's heart and to fulfill an historic mission through consolidat-ing the union of the twelve tribes of Israel. The gift of the Spirit in Mary made her the immaculate and holy Mother of God. The Apostles were chosen for a mission, and they became the close friends of Christ, sanctified by His Spirit. The two aspects cannot be separated, or only on a notional level. Speculating about essences one can cer-tainly say that a grace is given for the sanctification of the person only, or for the good of the community only. But in God's existential approach such separation can hardly exist. A grace given to an individual immediately flows out to sanctify the Church, and the grace given for the welfare of the community touches first the heart of the person who receives it. Lamp without Light The essence of virginity is that it carries our fragile union with God. It protects, it defends, it shelters this union. The tragedy whicli may happen to some who are consecrated virgins is that the virginity is there but the union remains lifeless: there is no dynamic growth and development in it. The framework exists, the content is too weak. Such a person is like a lamp with no light. Consequently he does not radiate light; he leaves his surroundings in darkness. This is a tragedy that could happen to a consecrated person. He may keep the integrity of heart and body but at the same time his internal life will not know the light and love of the Holy Spirit. Frequently, he will take ref-uge in an extreme legalism. In such a case virginity is nearly meaningless. It could not be called a true sign. The essence of a sign is that it connects two persons or connects persons with different places and objects. An empty virginity does not connect anyone with eternal life. The lamp has to be filled with oil to give light. Conclusion It is easier to see now why virginity has the primacy in our religious consecration. Through virginity a special bond is established between God and man: they become companions. The grace of virginity is a spiritual grace; yet it vivifies the body and gives a new balance to it. + + + Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 Therefore it is the anticipation of the grace of resurrec-tion, the manifestation of the otherwise hidden glory of the children of God. The other aspects of our consecra-tion follow virginity. A human person who entered a, new; glorious, and spiritual world through virginity will not want to be the slave of material and temporal things. He will vow freedom by professing poverty. Also he will recognize the living Christ in the Church; and, as a rule, he will ask for a deeper association with the visible Church by dedicating himself to works of charit~ in a religious community. In this way he will share the glory of the risen Christ, and he will do the saving work of the mortal Christ. .' ' + 4- Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GEORGE B. NINTEMANN, O.P. Penance: Sacrament of Poverty Here is the message of the Amen, the faithful, the true witness, the ultimate source of God's creation: I know all ab6ut you: how you are neither hot nor cold. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewhrm, I will spit you out of my mouth. You say to yourself, "I am rich, I have made a fortune, and have everything I want," never realizing that you are wretchedly and pitiably poor, and blind and naked too. I warn you, buy from me the gold that has been tested in the fire to make you really rich, and white robes to clothe you and cover your shameful nakedness, and eye ointment to put on your eyes so that you are able to see. I am the one who reproves and.disciplines all those he loves: so repent in real earnest. Look~ I am.~standing at the dqor, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal, side by side with him. Those who prove victorious I will allow to share my throne, just as I was victorious myself and took my place with my Father on his throne. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches? What was the Spirit saying to the churches (vhen He inspired the author of Revelation to "write to the angel of the church in Laodicea"? In essence it was the spirit of the 'anawim, the spirit of poverty. "You say to yourself, 'I am rich, I have made a fortune, and have everything I want,' never realizing that you are wretchedly and pitia-bly poor, blind and naked too." Laodicea, the last of the seven Apocalyptic cities, was renowned for its wealth which made it doubly hard to practice the spirit of-pov-erty. Here is how it is described: With banks so illustrious that Cicero selected Laodicea to cash his letters of credit, with a medical school so famous as to have the names of its doctors on coins and its eye oint-ments exported throughout the Mediterranean world, with demands for its soft violet-black glossy wool giving it a steadily aAp 3:14--22 (All scriptural quotations appearing in this article are from the Jerusalem Bible unless otherwise noted). George B. Ninte-mann, O.P., writes from St. Albert's Priory; 2833 32nd Avenue South; Min-neapolis, Minnesota 55406. VOLUME 26, 1967 625 4. 4. 4. George B. Nintemann, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 626 growing market for tunics, a perspective for spiritual goods would easily go out of focus.~ To understand and apprecia.te tl,)e spirit of the "anawim we have but to consult the magnificent work of Father Albert Gelin, P.S.S., The Poor of Yahweh. In his [ore-word to the English translation Father Barnabas M. Ahem, C.P.,~ another authority on the 'anawim theme, has these laudable words to say: Of all that Father Gelin wrote, The Poor O] Yahweh will probably live longest in the minds of men. He here develops a theme which looms large in modern study of the spirit of the Bible. He treats of the "anawim, "the poor and needy," who rise out of the pages of the Old Testament as the true people of God. The pattern of their holiness forms the blue-print for the Scriptural portrayal of the great saints of Israel: MoseS, Samuel, Jeremiah, Anna and Judith. The voice of the 'anawim is resonant in the prayerful pleading of the songs of the Psalter. Their spirit fills the souls of the ho!y ones in the New Testament: Joseph and Mary, Zachary and Elizabeth. In the Matthean form of the Beatitudes, the "anawim model of holiness is described and codified as the ideal Ch'ris~ian character.' Father Gelin sur~marizes his study with these sigi~i~icant words: We b~ve tried to give a concrete description of this mystical lineage o{.:Israel, so anonymously eloquent in the psalter, but which also inciudes famous names like Jeremiah the author of the book of Job, and above all Mary, the lowly maid who at the threshold of the New Covenant recapitulates all the spiritual depths of the'. Old. Poverty thus understood is a modality of faith. It is abandoned, trusting and joyous, closely akin to humility~ It shows itself in an attitude of religious waiting'. Th~ beatitude of the poor in Matthew's Gospel is fo- Cused on this fundamental disposition, and its various aspects are continued in the critique of pharisaism so central in the . Gospel, as well as in the parable of the children, which is, as it were, the antithesis of this critique. These two poverties, effective poverty and spiritual poverty, are concretely connected. Historically the second is rooted in the first. As a matter of fact, to enable spiritual poverty to flourish, the Essenians bound themselves by a vow of poverty.~ And Christ confirmed what tradition had discovered. None of these biblical lessons were nor should be lost. Without pre-tending to extract from the Bible an economic treatise, we have no right to forget the social results of its religious principles. Jesus did not claim to organize the world, but he was actually speaking tomen of flesh and blood and we knox4"where His preferences led. Evangelical poverty, as He practiced it, continues in the ~William G. Heidt, O.S.B., The Book oI the Apocalypse (Col-le~ eville: Liturgical Press, 1962), p. 46. ~See Cross and Crown;~ 1959, pp. 278-91 (reprinted in Barnabas M; Ahem, C.P., New Horizons [Notre Dame: Fides, 1965], pp, 46- 61). ~ Albert Gelin, P.S.S., The Poor ol Yahweh (Collegeville: Liturgi-cal Press, 1964), p. 6. ,~ Church as an unmistakably clear sign of an understanding of His spirit.~ The sinner is truly a poor man, one who is in need of God's loving help. This loving help has merited the special word mercy. "God, be merciful to me a sinner," is the cry of this poor man. The tremendous need .which the sinner has of God:s help can be gathered from the traditional Christian pedagogy of speaking of sin in terms of death. This utter helplessness strikes us whene~er we kneel before the re-mains of a loved one. Only God could restore life to the stilled bodyI And the same is true of the one who is dead in sin; of himself he is powerless. For his revival he must become another son of Naim touched by' the love of mercy incarnate. No one seems to question the mortal sinner's need for God's mercy. But not a few seem to close their eyes to the need which all sinners have; that is, there seems to be a relu~c'tance to approach the sacrament of mercy unless one is guilty of something serious.It is hoped that a considera-tion of the sacrament of penance in .the spirit of the "anawim will brin. g about a certain reevaluation, or at least ~ome Second thoughts. Perhaps some of the i.nsensitivity to the' sacrament of penance can be traced back to a distorted notion of what a sinner really is. For some it seems that,, a sinner is synonymous with one who is guilty of sin. Th~ sense of guilt has clonded the sense of sinfulness. Could it be more than only slightly significant that the publican prayed, "God, be merciful to me a sinner," rather than, "God, be merciful to me because I have sinned?.~' The point that is trying to be made is t~ha, t although one may not be guilty of sin here and now h~ is still a sin'ner. Being a sinner is the very essence of our. human condv tion: "You know I .was born guilty, ~ Sinner from~the moment of conception" (Ps. 50). And St. John writes in his first letter: If we say we have no sin in u~, ,we are deceiving ourselves and refusing to admit the truth; but if we acknowledge our sins, then God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and purify us from everything that is wrong. To say that we have never sinned is to call God a liar and to show that his word'is not in us." Father Louis Monden, S.J., in Sin> Liberty, and Law, has this to say regarding the sinful condition: Generally it is only when every support of" his own being falls away that man consents to abandon his reliance on self and to appeal to God in a liberating "Thou." Frequently the VOLUME 26, 1967 Ibid., pp; 111-3. 1 Jn 1:8-10. + George B. N intemann; ~ O .P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brutal, humiliating shock of sin is for man the only way out of' the illusion of his complacency and the myth carefully nurtured by social conventions of his respectability and decency. But it is not the 'mere fact of sin which produces the shock, but the shattering impact of th~it fact on the illusion of virtue and irreproachability in which he was living and the ensuing awareness of sin. An awareness of sin which is at the same time the awareness of his own dereliction, the experience of his own inability to stand before God by his own power, the sense of his sinful involvement with the evil of the whole of humanity in which he is trapped, and the realization of his utter unworthiness to be loved by God. At the exact moment when he sins that awareness cannot be present. It would make sin impossible. Only detested sin, sin redressed by contrition, can feed that awareness and transform it into a conscious need for salvation and the welcoming of grace . That a man begins to feel himself more and more a sinner as be commits fewer sins is not based upon a pious exaggera-tion or illusion. It only demonstrates that sin is the lowest stage in a process of experiencing his distance from God and his unholiness in the presence of God's love which in the saint turns in a more undivided way. But this is an accepted despair which involved a total expropriation of self and a complete submersion, in the midst of one's helplessness, in the saving and sanctifying mercy of Gbd. Thus no one has been more deeply aware of the need for redemption, no one further removed from every kind of pharisaical pride, than lvlary, who was wbolly without sin. Precisely because of her spotless purity she was the most completely surrendered to God and became likewise the most fully understanding of all human dereliction, the "refuge of sinners." ~ It is worth repeating that being a sinner and being guilty of sin are not the same. One who is guilty of sin is obviously a sinner but the reverse is not necessarily true. The sinner-condition, in the wide sense in which we are thinking of it, is simply the creature-condition. What follows then is that one is in need of God's mercy not ?nly until he is washed of his sins in the sacrament of penance but until he is completely raised with Christ in glory. We ~a~re.in 'need of God's mercy until the day of final resurrecuon. The whole man, body and ;Soul, must enter into the Passover mystery. A confusion on this point seems to be evident in the way in which many penitents approach the sacrament of penance and make their accusation. Most often it is a matter of what one has done rather than what he is be-cause of what he has done. The idea seems to be prev-alent that sins are forgiven rather than the sinner. Sins seem to be looked upon as some sort of undesirable baggage which 0n~ leaves in the confessional rather than a change in one's personal relationship with his heavenly Father. And the resultant forgiveness is looked upon as the taking away of sins in the sense that one's garbage is taken away rather than the gesture of our heavenly ~ Louis Monden, S.J., Sin, Liberty, and Law (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), pp. 149-50. Father loving us even though we are sinful. The figure of the father in the parable of the prodigal , son imme-diately comes to mind; he,loved his son in spite of his wretchedness and with his unfaithfulness, he loved him simply because he was Iris son; he forgave and overlooked his past but he did not change it! This is God's attitude toward us in the sacrament of penance: He accepts us with our sins and sinfulness~ the very mystery of divine forgiveness. Our heavenly Father loves us simply because we~ are, His sons. The notion which we are "trying to express is closely associated with the scriptural ~notion of hamartia. Father Bernard Hiiring, C.Ss.R., explains it well: The biblical, hamartia is no~ merely the single sinful act, but also the evil condition resulting from it, the state or condition of perdition, the, evil disposition and attitude which is estrangement from God. What is dreadful is not merely the sin as an act, but the personal root, the evil disposition from which further individual sins (of course, through free consent of the will) grow. Conversion means conquest of the old man of sin, held captive by sin (this is the carnal existence, the existence through the flesh, the sarx), in order to attain a new ahd spiritual (pneumatic) form of life created and guided by the spirit of God. The convert must renounce every sin, not merely any and every sinful act, and every habitual sinful action, but first and foremost the whole mpde of his existence. His heart must be changed. He must be entirely transformed in disposition and inner attitude. Obviously man is not equal to this task if he relies on. his own resources: one who is estranged from God, far off from Him, dan be brought ,back to God only if God Himself comes to him with His grace. Hence, to turn from perdition, from the loss of God and the loss of salvation, which are inherent in the state of sin, one must unreservedly accept the dominion of God which comes to man in Christ through the spirit of God. ~ The first thing that man can contribute toward his con-version is the acknowledgement.that he has not merely done evil deeds, committed sins, but that he hirhself is evil; that he stands in need of redemption and complete spiritual trans-formation? It is no understatement to say that many Christians lack a proper understanding of sin and sinfulness. For too many of them Christ is not really seen as a Savior, at least a Savior here and now; it is more an attitude of He will sav

Issue 25.1 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Religious Women and Pastoral Nork by J. M. R. Tillard. O.P. 1 Metanoia or Conversion by J6seph Fichtner, O.S.C. 18 The Church's Holine~g and Reh~ous Life by Gustave Ma'~t~lei, S.J. 32 Religious Significance of the T.rinity by Bernard Fraigneau-Julien, ~.S.S. 53 Contemplatives and Change ~by Mother M. Angelica! P.C. 68 The Crisis of Creatur~liness by Alfred de Souza, S.J; 73 Sdence and Renewal by Thomas Dubay,] S.M. 80 Freudian Gloom and Christiah Joy by William J. Ello~, S.J. 95 Freedom to IObey by Mother M. Viola, O.S.F~ 104 The Great Waste by Sister Mary Carl Ward, I~.S.M. 114 A Fresh Look at God by Patrick J. 0 Halloran,, S.J. 125 Poems 130 Survey of RomanDocumi ents 132 Views, News, Prdviews 135 Questions and Ariswers 138 Book Rdviews 142 VOLUME 25 NUMBER I January 1966 Volume 25 1966 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimbre, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ella~d, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J2 Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland 22163 Book Reviews. Norman Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX J. Mo R. TILLARD, O.P. Religious Women and Pastoral Work It is interesting to study fxom a theological viewpoint the history of the appearance in the Church of religious communities of women devoted to the active life. One basic trait clearly distinguishes them: in spite of the immense diversity of their immediate ends, all these con-gregations find their finality in the exercise of evan-gelical charity in the form of what is ordinarily referred, to as "the works of mercy." Whether it is a question of caring for the sick, of helping the poor, of educating youth, of assisting the~ aged, or of accepting and rehabili-tating certain categories of men: and women, rejected bye our society, the central activity of these communities always issues in a direct love of human beings., If one compares, for example, a missionary congregation of men such as the Holy Ghost Fathers and a missionary con-gregation of women such as the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, it will be seen how, in the same human context and with the same apostolic aim, ~the activity of such religious women brings to e~clesial activity a specific note of realistic charity. The priest preaches the gospel and administers the sacraments; the 'lay brother is occupied with the material needs o[ the mission; but the mission-ary sister attempts to incarnate concretely in the here and now the message of fraternal charity which is at the heart of the good news: she nurses, she feeds, she edu-cates. It is.this area that is her ministry, and in it.she finds the certainty of serving her Lord in all fullness. While in non-clerical religious communities of men (such as teaching or hospital brothers) there often ap-pears a kind of tension arising from the fact that these religious experience a sense of frustration at not being able. to exercise a priestly ministerial function, com-munities of women ordinarily find peace in the humble, day-by-day gift of their charity. This point seems to us to be ecclesiologically and pastorally important; and we would like to study it here ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., is professor of dogmatic theology at the Dominican House, of Studies; 96 Empress Ave-nue; Ottawa 4, Can-ada. VOLUME 251 1966 ! ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from three distinct points of view: first, we shall attempt to point out the theological characteristics of the specific activity of the religious women at the heart of all ecclesial activity; then we shall try to situate that activity of religious women in its direct relationship with the ac-tivity of the hierarchy; and finally we shall discuss the concrete possibilities of enlarging their activities in ac-cord with the needs of the Church today. The Work o[ Charity o[ Religious Women Is at the Heart of the Apostolic Charity of the Church In what does the charity of God's Church for men consist? To this question an answer can be given in the simple statement: the Church seeks to be a genuine in-strumentof grace by which the love of God Himself for men can be effective in the here and now of the human situation. In other words, in her charity the Church does not seek to love merely in her own name; rather she is desirous" that through her and through the mediation of her transparency and of her profound mystery of com-munion with God there may pass the power of the agape of the Father. This is the reason why her love for men is always humble and poor and never triumphant: she of-fers her heart, her hands, her toils, and her goods to the charity of God. It is in this way--and perhaps above all in this way--that she is sacrament in the precise sense that through her and the ministry of her action the One who is defined as Love reveals Himself and acts. He is that Love which does not remain enclosed within itself but which on the contrary radiates out to touch and affect all beings and all the reality of every being. To say that the Church is servant--and this perhaps is her most fitting characteristic in the present time of the history of salvation--is to say that she has no meaning except inso-far as she serves as an intermediary between the mysteri-ous love of the Father and men as they actually exist. More profoundly, it is to say that she is a mystery o[ charity; that is, through the total availability created in her by her love [or God passes the love o[ God Himself. It does not seem to us to be an exaggeration to say that today God wishes to love the world through the heart o[ the Church. In this Iove of God for men transmediated by the Church there is without doubt an internal and essential order. The dominant wish of the Father--and the entire gospel message affirms this--is to lead men to His king-dom, to introduce them already in this life to the inti-macy of His friendship in order that eventually they may share for all eternity in the glory of His Son. Christianity is not to be confused with humanism, however great the latter may be; its aim is always that self-surpassing which we call the "life of grace," and the Church can be faithful to her mission only insofar as she leads men into the fullness of the Pasch of Jesus. This is why at the heart of her action her fundamental preoccupation is always with the Pasch and its two moments of death to sin and of resurrection to newness of life. She exists [or the Pasch; she exists to proclaim the staggering reality of this Day that inaugurates the new times, to make present and active its power in the Eucharist and the other sacra-ments, to keep men in contact with this source of the love of the Father. A Church that would cease to center its life on the Pasch would no longer be the Church of God (Ekklesia tou Theou), the sacrament and the place of agape. Nevertheless, this paschal love is a total love of man in the concrete, and it has nothing of the abstract about it. It does not merely aim at.some small, secret zone of the human person (what is equivocally called "his interior life"). Without effecting an artificial cleavage between the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, it encounters the person as he really is in the unity of his person. On the one hand, it penetrates to the very depths of the human being whom it renews and re-creates by grace; on the other hand, its pervasive in-fluence reaches the entire extent of the human mystery. Between the mystery of the redemption and the mys-tery of creation there exists a profound unity, the link-ing bond of which is precisely the paschal event. The Father of Jesus is God the Creator; and the Son who is incarnated in Jesus is just as truly the One "through whom God created the world" (Heb 1:2). Moreover, if God sends His Son, He does so--it is the living tradition of the Church as expressed by Irenaeus--in order to save and to regain the fix'st creation that has been wounded by sin. The Resurrection is not simply a starting point, the ¯ dawning of eschatological times; it is above all the glorification of creation by the entry of a man (its King) into full participation in the Spirit of God. It is the ele-vation and exaltation of nature by the power of agape. For the Father does not give the resurrected Christ a new Body; He restores that Body of His that was born of Mary but now is flooded with divine gifts. He thereby lets us know--a point that we often forget--that His plan is a single one, that in Him there is not one plan as Creator and another plan as Redeemer with a clearcut distinction between them; there is only one plan of love that envelops all of human destiny. This, moreover, is the reason why baptism which opens the door to the world of grace is also the leavening pledge of the resur-rection of nature (Rom 6:5; 8:11; Eph 2:6). Paschal love--of which the Church is the instrument + + ÷' ÷ ÷ ~÷ J. M. R. Till~rd~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --is, then, a love that is directed to the entire reality of the human condition and that refuses every form of selec- . tivity with regard to the makeup of the human existen-tial. In its ultimate finality it is eschatological in the sense that its overall concern is with leading man to the glory of the Parousia. Nevertheless, it is concerned with the human situation as this is realized here and now. For here and now God loves man; here and now His Father's heart wishes to give His creature the benefits of His in-finite love; here and now He wishes men to know that in spite of their misery they are loved by Him; and here and now He desires :that the world be infused with the re-creation and healing of nature provided by the Pasch of J~sus. More than this, God the Father desires that this love, immediately directed to the nature of man and seeking to heal sicknesses, to console the troubled, and to succor the poor, should be the atmosphere in which there shines forth the revelation of that other dimension of agape which opens on the joy of eternity. In other words, the eschatological aim of paschal love--the prom-ise and the hope of eternal liIe where .there will be "'no more wailing, no more crying,, no more pain" (Ap 21:4) --can be proclaimed and revealed only by the action of ecclesial charity on the miseries and .sufferings of this earthly life. Charitable action in the today and the tem-poral of the history of men is nothing less than the sacra-ment and the seal o[ paschal love. The Church can pro-claim and prepare the happiness of eternity only if she devotes herself to the .relief of the suffering of mankind. It is thereby--and theologians do not seem to have real-ized this in 'a realistic way--that'she sows in this world the first fruits of the world to come. But it should not be thought that what has just been stated is only the reasoning of a theologian. To be con-vinced of this, it is sufficient to reflect with attention on the way in which Jesus realized His messianic vocation. If He fulfilled the figure of the Suffering Servant (glimpsed in the Servant of Yahweh Songs inserted in the Book of Isaiah), he did so not only by His death of ignominy but also by His pedagogy of mercy and.of tenderness (Is 42:!-7). He preached the gospel of salva-tion by "going about doing good" as Peter said to .Cor-nelius and his friends (Acts 10:38). And this good that He did consisted of simple acts of temporal mercy: healing the sick, consoling widows, giving food to the hungry, treating the poor with kindness, welcoming strangers without any attitude of segregation. The proclamation of the gospel was done in this way, and the death on the cross receives its significance only when situated in this climate which reveals th'at its finality is one o[ love and not of.power. And there are other manifestations of this. As a sign permitting John to judge of His messianic mission, Jesus in Matthew 11:2-6 offers His acts of love for the lowly and the poor, following in this the line traced by the prophecies of Isaiah: it is these acts that are the seal authenticating His vocation. In the merciful act of themultiplication of loaves performed out of pity for the needs of the persons who followed Him, Jesus according to John (6:1-66) reveals the profound mean-ing of the sacrament bf His .lbve, the Eucharist. In that case, once again, the act of temporal mercy, far from being merely an occasion allowing Jesus to speak about His doctrine, provides the climate and the atmosphere in which the proclamation of the Bread of life can burst forth. The gift of material bread and the Eucharist are not two acts artificially bracketed together; they are rather two expressions of the same thrust of agape as Paul well understood when he reproached the Corin-thians (1 Cor 11:17-33). Similarly, the washing of the feet (Jn 13:1-20) is not just a simple illustration of the commandment of charity and of the mutual service de-manded of the disciples; it is its seed. One last indica-tion can be given, one which it seems to us has not been sufficiently recognized: the holy women were the first proclaimers of the Resurrection simply because they were concerned to go early in the morning to give the Body of Jesus the care and the veneration that Jewish custom demanded--an act of humble mercy, but by doing it they became the first witnesses of the act par excellence of the mercy of the Father. We hope, then, that the importance of the above reflec-tions is understood. We do not intend to show here what John has so strongly emphasized; namely, that the frater-nal love of Christians among themselves is the sign of their belonging to Christ and thereby a witness to the power of agape. Our intention is to enable one t.o grasp that mercy shown towards all men, whether Christians or not, is the atmosphere which envelops and normally authenticates the gospel proclamation. In other words, we wish to throw light on the fact that we can bring men the good news only if at the same time and in the name of this good news we concretely show men that we love them "not in words, but in deeds--genuinely." For in the humility of their object these acts are the sacrament in which should gradually appear their infinite originat-ing source with its promise of eternal happiness. But this is an eternal happiness that does not permit flight from the suffering of the present but that, on the contrary, involves itself with that suffering in order to sow there already the seeds of eschatological joy. Once again, it is through the experience of the visible and the tangible that God slowly leads mankind to faith in the invisible; ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ 4. ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS 6 by the visible dimension of His chitrity H~ leads them to faith in the folly of His, agape." it is when seen in this light that the apostolic actii, ity of religious women of the active life receives its evangeli-cal meaning. Properly speaking, theirs is not the task of preaching the gospel wffh authority: this. fl6ws from the hierarchical function to which they do not have access. Neither are they like militant lay people wiih a inandate to take charge of a milieu and graduMly conduct it to Christ; although these religiohs women are essentially members of the laity, they pertain to a special form 'of lay life officially recognized by the Church and deter-mined by t.h'e directi;c~s of their constitutions which fix the quality of their mandate. Here we should note the confusion that so.me pastors and even some theologians cause by more or le~s fissimilating the life of religious women to that of secular institutes, basing themselves in this. only on canonical texts. Briefly, religious women of the active life do not ordinarily form a part of.what is called the direct apostolate. Nevertheless, they play an essential role in the work of evangelization. For by their day-to-day charitable activity officially done in the name of the Church it is they who assure the gospel of the atmosphere of mercy,, the importance of which we have shown. For. this activity to bear all its fruit, it is evidently necessary that it be disinte~:ested, that motives of the financial interest and of the material prosperity of the community should not take precedence over the apostolic anguish arising from love for men. Let us admit that in this matter there is often room for considerable con-version, especially in countries where religious commu-nities conduct their institutions without any outside con-trol. But under the p.retext of real abuses, one should not make a wholesale condemnation without any distinc-tions. By her religious women the Church creates the visible dimensidn of charity ~which according to the law of the divine pedagogy is an integral part of the work of evangelization. And let us add that their vows add to the activity of sisters an element which married or non-reli-gious militants do not have. For sisters are those who have freely given up human values as fundamental as those of nuptial and motherly love, of the possession of a certain level of comfort; and they have done this in order to give themselves more completely to the universal love of men. Thanks to them if they are faithful to their vocation, poor themselves and hence totally transparent garriers of the love of the Father--the Church is able to reply .to those who question her mission: "Look around and see: the blind see, the lame Walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:4-6). Far from being an obstacle to the evangeli-zation of the world, are not these religious, on the con-trary, its advance troops? Day after day they plough the fields in which the hierarchy sows the word and where other lay people lend support to the testimony of the love of the Father. In a word, these religious ~ire the sign of the love of the Father for poor mankind slashed by suffering. The Action o[ Religious Women and Its Relation to the Action o[ the Hierarchy O~icially--and it is told him from the day of his con-secration-- the bishop is charged in a special way with the love of the poor, the suffering, and the lowly of his churches. He is not simply the functionary which man), imagined him to be before Vatican Council II; he has the vocation of a father. And this implies that his heart is anguished by the suffering of his people. But to discharge this duty (and he will have to r(nder account of it on the day of judgment), he cannot rely only on his own powers and his own initiative. Here, as everywhere in his pastoral action, he must act in com-munion with lay people. This does not mean that he seeks to utilize the energies of the latter for the profit o~ his own projects and plans (this would be clericalism). On the contrary, he labors to arouse and nourish in them a conscientious and realistic grasp of the heavy responsibility that, not as pastors but as baptized brothers of Christ, they also have with regard to the concrete exercise of the charity of God in the midst of the needs of their fellow men, especially of those who suffer. For it is the Church as such, in the living union of its leaders and its faithful, which must radiate the paschal love of the Father. No one. can dispense himself from this law of his baptismal grace. Nevertheless, all are not called to live it out in the same fashion: there are special places in the Body of Christ, and even within the laity chari-table action can diversify itsell: in a number of ways. One of these ways will retain our attention here. It will be recalled that at the beginning of this article, it was said that all active communities of women find their definitive finality in the exercise of the works of mercy. But why is this? The answer to this question will intro-duce us into the very heart of ecclesiology. Let us recall that the mystery of the Pasch takes place not over and beyond creation but in it. The former is not the destroyer of the latter; on the contrary, it saves and elevates it. This is why all created values should hormally become paschal values. Accordingly, the gifts of nature considered in the light of the Resurrection appear as graces, primary and structural graces which 4- + + Religious Wdmen VOLUME 25~ 1966 7 ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 find their true meaning only in the Church. Everything human, then, is grace; and hence everything human as such should allow itself to be swept along by the power of paschal love. But in the human as it is concretely and existentially realized the differentiation of the sexes, plays a central role, and to ignore it would be a grave matter. Sexuality is not simply an exterior ~nd accidental wrapping cover-ing a common reality: it penetrates to the deepest mys-tery of man and woman and gives a positive determina-tion to that mystery. Each sex has a positive value that it alone is able to accomplish because sex modalizes the human along a given line. Sex, it is true, carries with it the entire essence of the human being so that nothing which defines and situates the latter will be absent from the one sex when it is in the other. Nevertheless, each human sex is under its own proper, unique, and ir-replaceable mode. In the man the human being is mas-culinity, in the woman it is femininity. And it cannot be in the man without being masculinity nor in the w~man without being femininity. Hence, the act of knowIedge, the act of joy, the act 0f love, the act of giving self are all in the man and in the woman but under a mode proper to each. The same is true of the act of pertaining to the Church of God and the act of serving the gospel. Hence the gift of self for the radiating of paschal love passes through masculinity and femininity. These represent the two positive and complementary values of the human through which the love of the Father sacramentalizes it-self. Man (the male) is above all power. He is power in the gift of physical life, he is also power in the domination of the world. In him cold reason dominates intuition. He structures, he legislates, he constructs, and he judges everything with a certain rigor. He likes to dominate, and his physical strength allows him to do.so. Accord-ingly, his proper collaboration with the agape of the Father is better exercised in an institutional ministry as leader of the community, as pastor, as legislator. But the woman is above all offering, appeal to communion, open transparency to the other. She is characterized by meraory and constantly sharpened intuition more than by logical rigor and deductive reason. She is made to receive love (as a bride) and to permit it to be fecund (by motherhood). She is heart rather than dry intelligence, tenderness and compassion rather than justice and sever-ity. She completely tends to the gift of herself in a con-stant care of little things, in the exercise of a delicacy and a kindness that sow joy. She puts flowers in the house and she sings songs. For her this is no waste, and she should not feel frustrated at not possessing what the opposite sex possesses. On the contrary, all this is her wealth; and this wealth is worth as much as that of the male. Accordingly, her proper contribution to the dif-fusion of paschal love should also quite simply assume this morphological, physical, and psychological constitu-tion which makes her what she is. She consecrates her-self especially to the dimension of temporal and spiritual mercy, of tenderness for the poor and the little--to the dimension which we mentioned above as the sign of the gospel Let us add that she alone can do this with per-fection: it is her charism. To say this is not to imply a right to the hierarchical priesthood which would thus be violated. Ther6 is no question here of such a right but of the assumption of the true quality of her being for the service of the gospel. Diversity of functions in no way signifies diversity in dignity. The charity finality of active religious women, then, appears to us to respond to the realism of the incarna-tion of grace in human nature. In our opinion it is one of the signs of the fact that the supernatural respects and saves the natural. Femininity as such with its own proper chdracteristics and its own special tendencies is thus assumed for the sake of the gospel. The motherhood of the Churcl~ cannot be better expressed. But it is necessary to go even further in our reflection. For by a special title the bishop links to himself this special charitable activity of religious women. They re-ceive from him a quasi-mandate, similar to that of the members of catholic action although it is specifically different. This gives to their commitment an official note: they face the. world as the ones officially responsible for the fidelity of the local church to the paschal com-mand of love for the lowly and the poor. It is, of course, to be clearly understood that they are not the only ones with the duty to radiate this agape just as the members of catholic action are not the only ones to give testimony to Christ in their milieu of life. Nevertheless, for reli-gious women this mission is more pressing for they re-ceive it "quasi ex officio": their entire life should be consumed so that, thanks to them, the Church may exist in an act of love and of mercy in the face of the sufferings of the world. The judgment that the world will pass on the quality of the local church on this point depends preeminently upon them. The bishop links himself to them in a notably special way in order that there might be assured the love of the poor which he is charged to maintain in a living and genuine way in his diocese. This is their ministry. And thereby it is seen how they are inserted into the pastoral work of the Church: they represent a chosen group to whom the one responsible for the ecclesial life of the diocese entrusts the ministry of + + + Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 9 ÷ 1. M. R. T~ltard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 charity. Hence they are not situated at the fringe of apostolic action; on the contrary, though not pertaining to the hierarchy, they fulfill one of the essential func-tions of the life of the People of God, for, as we have previously pointed out, charitable action forms the at-mosphere of the proclamation of the gospel. This perspective seems to us to be able to restore the breath of the gospel to the life of many communities that are too shriveled up within themselves and that do not perceive with enough clarity the implications of their mission. Overly orientated toward the perspective of the individual perfection of their members--and this individual perfection is clearly not contradicted by what we have said---, they forget that they are supposed to create in the world an evangelical sign within which the gospel can be proclaimed in all truth. It seems to us to be a serious matter when religi6us women vowed to charity feel that "they are outside of apostolic action," that "they are restricted to an activity of secondary im-portance when the world has such a great need of apos-tles," that "they are condemned to works of filling in for others." In such cases the question must be asked whether such religious institutions do not have need of a great movement of "conversion." The Charitable Action of Religious Women and the Needs of the Church Today There is one fact that has heavy consequences for the problem to be considered in this section: most of the religious congregations vowed to works of charity were founded at a period when the State accomplished nothing or almost nothing for the relief of human misery. In this matter the Church played an evangelical role of arousal and took the lead of the movement of mercy in the name of Christ. But today (at least, in the Western world and in the large socialist countries) the State--with the im-mense means that it often has--is occupied with tasks such as the care of the sick and of the old, the education of the young, the use of leisure, the rehabilitation of certain categories of men and women; for all of this per-tains to its area of competency. In this new situation, do religious still have a place? One thing is clear. Wherever religious parallel public institutions and retain their own ~schools, hospitals, or-phanages, it is necessary that these latter, if they are to remain a sign of the gospel, be distinguished less by the size of their activity than by their quality. Between a religious establishment and other institutions there should normally be perceived a difference with regard to respect for persons and to the attention given to them and also with regard to availability, tact, and commitment. A Catholic hospital, for example, should not be distin-guished from a non-religious hospital only by the fact that it affords a certain climate of prayer, easy access to the sacraments, and the assistance of a chaplain. It is further necessary ~that the very way of treating the physical sufferings be marked with the seal of the Spirit which, as St. Paul says, is "love, joy, peace, good temper, kindliness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness, selbcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This should be so much the case that a non- Christian who is being cared for there should feel him-self enwrapped with the love of God. When an officially Christian institution is no longer capablewthe reasons may be diverse---of giving this evangelical witness, then today it no longer has any reason for existing; and its continuance in existence is a counter-witness. It is clearly evident in our day that even in the institu-tions that belong to them religious women cannot carry out all the functions required of them for the welfare of those who come to them; they have need of auxiliaries and of employees. Moreover, it is frequently the State that confides to a given community the charge of an establish-ment of which the State remains the owner and for which at times it chooses the personnel who are to assist the sisters. This is a situation that at times creates suf-ficiently bizarre conditions. But in any case it increases the apostolic responsibility of the community: the com-munity in such a case has the duty of radiating the power of agape also into the active body of workers of the establishment. This stems from the fact of having taken charge of a milieu in order to flood it with the values of the gospel. This is a genuine apostolic activity bearing fruit on three levels: the personnel to whom the true demands of charity are gradually disclosed; the repercus-sion of this conscience attitude on the action of'these men and women; and those who are its beneficiaries. There is infinite need for tact and for suppleness, for complete openness, and for the absence of all proselytism. It is equally necessary that the community should never forget its primary purpose: the manifestation of the mercy of God for the poor, for the little, for those who suffer. In the case of a group of sisters working in com-mon in an institution (this is the only case we are consid-ering here), this situation restores to the community the meaning of its apostolic vocation, imposes on it a perpetual revision of life, strengthens the bonds of fra-ternal love, and compels it to achieve a state of radical transparency with regard to the gospel. For it feels itself being constantly judged in actual situations in the. close and common work of daily labor. And in the community it is the Church that is being judged. And I would say that the Church is being judged more in such a case ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 11 I. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than it would be in cases where militants of catholic ac-tion work in the same circumstances and in the same milieu. The vows--especially that of poverty the apos: tolic value of which must some day be restudied in depth. .--indicate that the community has chosen to act exclu-sively for the kingdom of God and not at all for any earthly ~;ellbeing however limited it may be. In. the com-munity, then, men expect to find a delineation of the Church. Hence let us emphasize that far from decreasing the charitable finality of religious institutes, the situation in which religious must work with non-religious actually extends it: the community must not only work itself for the service of love but it must also lead others to act in the same way and under the same explicit motivation. Nevertheless, "today's circumstances are constantly obliging us to think more and more of another way of exercising this mihistry of mercy. In this case the com-munity as such does not take charge of a given institu-tion. Each sister in accord with her professional com-petence is employed wherever she finds-a position corresponding to the specific end of her congregation. Dur-ing the day, then, the community is dispersed, each of the .religious going to her own place of work. There, in com-munion with the militants whom she may find there, each sister in her work tries to be both an instrument of the charity,of God and an active leaven within the laity arousing them to the call of the gospel. Unlike the preced-ing case, she does not pertain to a group performing as such a given function in the establishment. She is sim-ply an employee on the same footing as the rest, and her personal competence is the only reason for her holding the position that she occupies. In accomplishing her work she is not immediately attached to a group of religious working at her side. She is alone. Often she is in an indifferent "milieu, even in one agitated by forces hostile to the Church. It is there that the. Lord asks her to live her vocation as a religious vowed to the exercise of mercy and to do so through the quality of her work and in the network of social bonds that she creates with the men and women who are around her. _ This is a difficult and complex situation. The religious must not lose sight of the primary end of her institute which is charitable work itself. Hence, her central pre-occupation must not deviate from this central point of a direct and immediate relationship with a'man or a woman or a child to be cared for, educated, or aided in some fashion. She is not primarily sent to lead a militant life after the fashion in which Christians of catholic action act. Her mandate is another one, although---and we will return to this--like all the baptized she also has the duty of becoming leaven in her milieu. Let us not forget what we have developed above at length: in the name of Christ and of the Church the bishop has en-trusted to her in a special way the responsibility of radiating charity under the form of mercy, compassion, gentleness, and tenderness in the face of the sufferings and needs of human beings. She must above all seek this: that through her actions (materially resembling those performed by her non-believing neighbor) there may pass the entirely slaecial quality that the love of Christ Himself infuses into human activity. This is not easy, we admit. But if she does not do this, then she no longer responds to what the Church specifically expects from her for the sake of the gospel. And in this case through her defect something essential is lacking to the life of the local church; an entire dimension of the mystery of Christ is veiled; men and women will not experience the sweet-ness of the God and Father of Jesus. At first sight this function may appear to be less efficacious and less direct than the fact of militant action in a milieu for the sake of sowing the gospel message; than the fact of sharing in the struggles and the anguishes of the other employees and of thereby working for their liberation. Nevertheless, her function is just as necessary from an evangelical point of view. She responds to a ministry that is essential to the Church and that completes and consummates that of the other militants. For it is a question of a different form of action of the same love, of a mandate obliging her in communion with that of the militants to make the visage of Christ appear in the small part of mankind entrusted to the bishop for salvation. Hence, in the con-crete circumstances of her action the religious must always subordinate the other forms of her apostolic activity to her charitable function. It is easy to see in this kind of situation the new im-portance taken by what is called the common life. When she returns to her community, the sister should find the spiritual and loving atmosphere that permits her to reground her forces, to nourish herself with the gospel, and to judge her activity in open dialogue with her superiors and her fellow sisters. The hours that she passes each day in the milieu charged with providing her the means to grow in her union with the Lord must not become for her a heavy load encumbered with a multi-tude of oral prayers and with confusedly arranged exer-cises. Neither must it appear in her eyes merely as a slack period offering a little leisure. What it should exactly be is difficult to say. But it is clear that the essential should be an atmosphere of true prayer, of simple and loving joy. The witness of charity is so often dissipated by fatigue and by nervous tension that there should be a strong reaction against everything (even those things ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 clone under the pretext of devotions or of ancient cus-tom) which irritates the sisters. And it would be good if superiors, would re'member that to work to create in their houses an unpressured spiritual atmosphere is the first service that they themselves can give to charity. Up to this point we 'have reflected only on the exercise by religious women of their ministry of charity in the usual situation of the Church today. NOW it is necessary to ask two questions which more and more appear to us to be urgent: Should not religious women be more in-timately and immediately associated with the matter of pastoral reflection, their charisms between taken into equal count in this area? And can not their participation in the ordinary pastoral ministry be enlarged? Before answering the first question, we must frankly remark that up to now the Church has been contented to ~ttilize the charitable action of religious women and has manifested a certain suspicion with what they might be able to contribute to pastoral reflection itself. Our present day pastoral has been elaborated by r.elying almost exclusively on the qualities proper to the mascu-line sex. This can be attributed to various causes: to the fact that according to tradition access to hierarchical orders is reserved to men; to the fact that in the West the Church's ministers are celibates and thereby inclined to mistrust women; and above all to the fact that our civilization has not yet considered with sufficient serious-ness what is represented at the heart of the human mys-tery by the genius proper to ~oman. We are just begin-ning to awaken on this point; and the awakening is often accompanied by certain feel.ings of revindication and of aggression so that it can become dangerous and entirely lose its meaning. Up to now pastoral thought has had the tendency to see everything frdm the masculine View-point as 'if the masculine sex alon~ represented the human or as i~and this is still more serious--it were the human ideal to which the feminine should conform it-self in order to attain any real value. Hence, the con-stant temptation of pastors has been (and often still remains) to consider religious women on.ly as so many servants to be smiled at from the vantage point of the superiority complex of the strong sex and to,be employed at.will in any kind of work; and they have not sufficient.ly considered them as women capable of perceiving with the penetration proper to their sex precise objectives that escape masculine psychology and as capable of grasping with an original insight of their own the con-sequences of certain decisions. This points seems to us to be a very serious one. It seems necessary to us that the Church be converted in this matter. This does not mean that the Church. should admit religious women to a priestly ordination as some persons are beginning to maintain basing themselves exclusively on arguments of rights to be redressed and of sexual egalitarianism. But it means that the Church should become conscious of the irreplaceable contribn-ti0n of feminine thought and that she should associate sisters more closely with the effort of investigation, judgment, and criticism that is needed for the ordering of the pastoral activity of a diocese, How is this to be done? It would take too long to treat this in a detailed and precise manner, Nevertheless, let us remark that it cannot be a question only of a consul-tation taking the natnre, as it were, of feeling the pulse of the situation but without passing beyond the stage of the preliminary. The charism of the hierarch~ demands thatiit al~vays act in communion with the laity, men and Women. The ultimate decision is without a doubt that of the leaders, a typical act of their own proper p.astoral judgment. Nevertheless, it should be born of a delibera-tion in which the laity are involved as much as the clergy in a frank confrontation of viewpoints and in a common sharing of apostolic perceptions and of dif-ferent psychologies. There is no qnestion here either of demagogy or of feminism; it is simply a utilization of different vocations and of different charisms in an at-mosphere of authentic communion. And this seems to us to be the meaning of authority in the Church of God,. It is rare that a pastoral decision is a purely hierarchical creatior~. It is most often nothing else than an assump-tion by the hierarchy--thereby bestowing the weight of its authority and the guarantee of its charism--of a perception arising among the laity who are plunged, into the experience of the real and then thought about, reflected upon, and discussed by their pastors. Moreover, from the viewpoint of kingly power the grace of orders ~is more a grace of prudential judgment than that of intuition. Invention comes above all from the periphery, from the precise point where the Church is in contact with the realism of the human situation. In this way, then, the grace of the laity penetrates even to.the inner nature of the pastoral function. Among the laity we place in a special rank not only the militants of catholic action but also the religious women who are 9fficially devoted to the ministry of charity. At one and the same time they are women--hence they can voice the neces-sary feminine viewpoint--and they are involved in the sufferings of human beings, knowing not only the latter's complexities and temptations but also their riches. If it is true--as we have shown above--that the ministry of charity is bound up essentially with the gospel and repre-sents a fi'ont line force of ecclesial action, then it seems in-÷ + ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 15 -b ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O;P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 conceivable to us that religious women should not be fully associated with the work of apostolic reflection that is p]'erequired for all authentic pastoral action. Moreover, why (and this is our second question) could they not receive in certain circumstances (always in dependence on the bishop, rightly understood) the entire responsibility for the organization of the entire chari-table apostolate of a diocese? In the collection of various areas which we group indistinctly under the name "pas-toral activity," is this not one of the numerous domains where women are more naturally competent than men? Why must a member of the clergy always be the head of every diocesan activity? At a time when we com-plain about the lack of priests and exhaust ourselves in imagining the outcome of this situation, it would seem logical to begin by reflecting on our theology of pastoral action and by asking whether as victims of the sin of clericalism, we have not permitted the atrophying of apostolic energies, among them those of religious women. A number of initiatives, undertaken especially in mission countries, show that urgent necessities are obliging the Church to a profound evolution on this point. The right is conceded to religious women to perform certain acts which up to now custom has linked with the person of the priest: they can distribute Communion, take charge of the liturgical assembly on Sunday, and catechize. The somewhat "sensational" cases should not rivet attention on themselves and thus prevent the Church from per-ceiving the numerous, more ordinary forms of activity which she can officially leave to the genius and the con-science of religious women. We have mentioned here the pastoral work of charity, but the same reasons would be valid for the organization of catechetical activity (on the condition that the sisters in charge be truly com-petent and not content themselves, as too often happens, with a hastily acquired and thin layer of catechetics) and for certain aspects of pastoral activity with regard to the family. A few minutes ago we mentioned the example of the women who set out at dawn to embalm the Body of the Lord and become the first witnesses of His Resurrection. Entirely like Mary, the woman who was the first witness of His Incarnation, they are the witnesses of the silent and hidden activities of God which are, nevertheless, His most fundamental ones. Is not woman even on the physi-cal level the first witness and the first receiver of human life as it comes into existence in secret? There is in this a mysterious harmony, sign of a providential vocation. This vocation is accomplished in the Christian bride whose femininity becomes grace and salvation for her husband and their children. It is accomplished in the contempla- tive nun hidden in silence and burning out her life for the Church. It is also accomplished in the religious woman of the active life who bends over human misery to bring it the most perceptible sign of the tenderness of God. The Christian woman has the marvelous and irre-placeable task of becoming the living sign of the Church as Bride and Mother. It is necessary that our pastoral awaken to this vocation of theirs and respect it for the glory of the gospel and the salvation of the world. + VOLUME 25, 1966 17 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Metanoia or Conversion Joseph Fichthe.r, O.S.C., teaches at Crosier House of Studies; 2620 East Wallen Road; Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 Since we religious are living .in an age of Chuich re-newal and reform, we can ask ourselves the question: What are we contributing to this movement? Is the movement likely to succeed if we merely let ourselves passively be swept up into it? Religious orders have a precedent of active participation in the many past Church reforms. They can take their cue from a fairly long list of orders who, somehow or other, were in-strumental in either initiating renewal and reform or carrying them through. Perhaps the most famous instance of a religious order undertaking reform of its monastic life and thereby lead-ing the way to full-scale Church reform is that of the Cistercians. As Father George H. Tavard, A.A., already pointed out in a lecture to major superiors at Den-ver, July 1, 1964, the Lorraine and Cluniac monastic re-forms spearheaded the whole Gregorian reform within the Church 0050-1200). St. Bernard wrote De consider-atione, a pattern of reform for Pope Eugenius III to use upon the administration of the Roman See. In the thir-teenth century, the mendicant movement of Franciscan and Dominican Friars coincided with the reforms of the Fourth Lateran Council and of Pope Innocent III. It is a fact of Counter-Reformation history that the Jesuits with their military structure and educational purpose and the Capuchins with their simplicity and austerity of life implemented the Trentine reform. This historical precedent comes closer to home when we recall that the canons regular followed in the wake of the Gregorian reform, when, for the first time in history, the idea of reform spread to the whole Church. Charles Dereine, S. J., noted how the canons regular helped to revive eremitical life in the thirteenth century,x The eremitical life did not last long among them because it was encroached upon by lay people, especially the conversi, who looked to the eremitical 1 Les chanoines reguliers au DiocOse de LiOge avant saint Norbert (Louvain~ University of Louvain, !952). groups for spiritual guidance and help (cura ani-marum). At their beginnings, after the example of their leaders was sufficient rule, the groups fell under the influence of the Rule of St. Augustine. But the choice of the Augustinian Kule, whenever it was made, engendered a delicate problem of conscience. Should the charter members adopt the canonical customs then in use or return to the primitive ideal of austerity and poverty? This was the step of capital importance in canonical reform. Carolingian law had granted the canons the right of abandoning private property in order to lead an apostolic life. A few groups opted for the new order (ordo horus in contrast to the ordo antiquus), a way of life which was more austere especially in the matter of poverty. Their option was vitally important, if not difficult, in an age of canonical reform. They had the alternative of affiliating themselves with Cistercian communities. I mention this bit of past history because obviously it stands parallel to our own day. Religious are now in a position to maintain the status quo (which eventually will die and decay); to merge with other religious groups who have similar constitutions, customs, and spirit, or at least associate with them in apostolic works (and this is a conciliar recommendation); or to forge ahead with the Church. It is essential for religious today to recognize and evaluate their role within the context of the Christian life. To fail to do so is to become purposeless and nondescript. They can only begin to reform if they knew beforehand why and how and what and whom they are to renew and reform. One of the aims listed for the present reform, in fact the first on the list, is "to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful." s Religious must count themselves among the faithful because of their consecration to God through baptism. Over and above baptism, the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration . It is indeed a special consecration which per-fects the former one, inasmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.¯ The role of the religious, then, particularly iri a time of spiritual renewal and reform, is to bear witness for the Church socially and publicly by a way of life which "radiantly shines forth" and shows that "the kingdom ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 1. ¯ Pope Paul VI, dllocution on Religious Life, May 25, 1964. 4- 4- Cor~erslon VOLUME 25~ 1966 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of Christ is not of this world." 4 They bear witness by means of the vows, the three signs "which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to ~an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian vocation.''~ The Decree on Ecumenism dispels any doubt that vows constitute a mere external show; Church renewal demands a change of heart, a renewal of the inner life of our minds, self-denial and an unstinted love.e If religious are to have a leading role in renewing the Church, they must be in the vanguard of :that ',spiritual ecumenism" which amounts to a change of heart, holiness of life, and prayer. One of the characteristics of the present reform move-ment within the Church is the return to original sources, especially biblical and patristic. At the same time that the Church wants to update herself, she is taking a hard look backward at her beginnings. The very idea of reform conjures up the biblical theme of metanoia, repentance or conversion. Throughout salva-tion history, both under the Old and. New Testaments, God repeatedly issues a call to repentance. What re-newal and reform we are experiencing today fits into the biblical background ofmetanoia. The prophets of old--Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, Ezekiel --were reformers. They called upon the people of Israel. wandering away from Yahweh to "turn back" to him, to "repent." Here we have the original Hebrew notion of reform translated by the Septuagint but especially by the New Testament into the Greek metanoia. A few examples will have to suffice. The prophet Amos enumerates the natural calamities which befall Israel for its sins; and then he quickly adds almost like a refrain: "Yet you returned not to me, says the Lord" (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11). "In their*affliction [Hosea is speaking for Yahweh], they shall look for me: 'Come, let us return to the Lord, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal' us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds' " (6:1). "Perhaps," writes Jeremiah, "when the house of Judah hears all the evil I have in mind to do to them, they will turn back each from his evil way, so that I may forgive their wickedness and their sin" (36:3). Ezekiel adds the note that the Israelites must make for themselves "a new heart and a new spirit" (18:31). The general prophetical teaching was that Israel, having personally sinned against the Lord, should per-sonally repent. Return to Yahweh meant that Israel should be orientated toward Yahweh and His will be-cause He is its God. Basic to repentance .was the de- ¯ Paul VI, ~lllocution on Religious LiIe. ~ Constitution on the Church, n. 44. e Decree on Ecumenism, n. 7. mand that Israel direct its whole existence to God and unconditionally accept Him in all events. To repent was to obey His will, to trust Him absolutely and be cautious about human help (alliances with other na-tions). Repentance had both a positive and negative aspect to it. By returning to Yahweh Israel would take up a new direction but likewise turn away from evil. Real repentance must be an inner renewal, a renewal of life, which is not possible without divine assistance. When we turn to the" New Testament, we find that it retains the past teaching on metanoia but lends empha-sis here and there. There seems to be more insistence upon the positive and interior aspect, that of changing one's mentality, attitude, feeling. Metanoia supposes error in conduct, repentance for past fault, and a con-version of one's whole person to a way willed by God in order to. ready oneself for entrance into His kingdom. Baptism, faith, repentance, love, poverty of spirit, all enter into the nature of metanoia. Metanoia requires personal responsibility coupled with the gift of God. John the Baptist was the first to take up the prophetic cry: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2; Mk 1:4). The cry, however, is more categorical because given in view of an eschatological revelation. Conversion is for everybody; it must be authentic, a change of nature from within. Jesus too preaches con-version: "Repent and believe in the gospel"; "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mk 1:15; Mt 4:17). But he goes beyond the Baptist in realizing the eschatological kingdom in His own Person. The purpose of His mission is to bring repentance: "I have not come to call the just, but sinners, to repentance" (Lk 5:32). The. metanoia which Jesus proclaims is really the will of God, a salvific way of life. One enters into such a way of life by converting or changing into a different man (see Mt 18:3). The close tie between monastic reform and the re-form of the entire Church was never better envisioned than by the early Church fathers. In fact, it is possible to trace historically a progression of the idea of reform from what concerns the individual Christian to monastic life and to the universal Church. The idea of reform became effective as a supra-individual force at a rather early date, particularly in monasticism. Within monasti-cism itself there has been a whole series o1: reforms. Today we tend to apply reform first of all to social entities and institutions rather than to individuals. How effective such a sweeping measure can be, remains to be seen. For a broad, ecclesiastical pattern of reform, follow-ing upon the principles already laid down in the Scrip-÷ ÷ ÷ owoersion VOLUME 25, 1966 21 + ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures, we have to resort to patri~tic writings. It is impossible, o[ course, to go into anything like a complete survey of their writings, but one can at least gain a few insights from Gerhart B. Ladner's~ monumental work,' The Idea o[ Reform.~ I am indebted to him fo~ the following all-too:brief summary. Ladner draws this definition of reform from Scriptural and patristic sources: "the idea of [ree, intentional and ever perfectible, multiple, prolonged and evdr repeated efforts by man to reassert and augment values pre-existent in the spiritual-material compound of the world." The Greek fathers generally regarded reform as a return to paradise. Baptism begins this reform because it is a return to innocence. Because innocence is often lost and because baptism is unrep~atable, reform is mostly postbaptismal, a long process of many starts. If man is to reform himself, he has to make a conscious pursuit of ends. He starts with an intention rather than with spontaneity or urge or response. The key feature then of Greek patristic reform ideology was the return to a state of innocence through a. continual spiritual regeneration. Man has to be reconditioned into a state equivalent to his original state. Gregory of Nyssa in particular, with his mystical bent, accounted for this development of the Pauline.theme of the "new creature" and "new creation." Now the question, how is man to be renewed, brings us to a consideration of the' second salient feature of reform ideology, a feature found mostly among the writings of the Latin fathers. They proposed that man who originally was made in the image of God should be reformed according to and in the image of God (Christ). Although the early fathers felt that reform meant a withdrawal from the world rather than a penetration of it, or at least a juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane, and hence relied upon monasticism to bring about reform, the idea gradually dawned that the whole Church should undergo reform. St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and St. Hilary of Poitiers were of the earlier mentality. Then under Gregory VII, the idea of reform began to envelop the Church as a whole, and finally Innocent III and Thomas Aquinas extended it to entire Christendom, to the political, socio-economic, and ~ultural milieu which the Church helped to form or in-fluence. Implicit in this idea was the re-imaging of man not only individually but socially. Reforming man to the image-likeness of God was the inspirational idea behind ~Gerhart B. Ladner, The Idea o[ Re[orm (Cambridge: Harvard, 1959). all the reform movements in early and medieval Christianity. A third renewal theme, for which St. Augustine was mainly responsible, was that of the kingdom of God. St. Augustine, ,however, had such a high opinion of the Church as the kingdom of God upon earth which was on its way to becoming the heavenly kingdom that he refused to see any need of its reform. That is why he formulated the idea of the City of God which permits into its environs both sinners .and saints until the sin-ners are weeded out at the-parousia. He and Tertullian (before his defection from the Church) struck a more positive and futuristic note by teaching a' renewal for the better. For Augqstine in particular, fourth century Pelagianism was an occasion to take stock of the ideology of reform. Pelagianism represented a reform movement based upon the belief that man can reform himself and the world on his own. Contrariwise, Augustine fought against the temptation of relaxing personal effort and simply trusting in God. His intention was to strike a balance between God's grace and man's will. Reliance upon God and personal responsibility must go together in order to attain the kingdom of God. In the Christian East and West while the Church was building up, the need was ever felt for individual and social reform. But who was to initiate it? ,Only special members and organisms within the Church's body, namely, monasticism. The East and West differed not merely in reform ideology; they differed too in their attitude toward monastic life. The Greeks leaned strongly toward contemplation, the Latins toward the active life of charity for God and man. The western-minded Augustine mapped out a program of reform for monastic and quasi-monastic life for clerics and lay-people. Such was the principal and practical way in which he wished reform to be carried into effect. The monk-priests and laymen were to join together in the City of God to bring about a renewal for the better. ¯ It is evident from thi~ patristic perspective that re-newal and reform must take into account the past and present and future. If we look back over the condition of religious life since World War II, the thought strikes us. that religious institutes have been passing through a phase of de-velopment. Consciously or unconsciously, they have been engaged in a reform movement for almost twenty years. The movement seerhs to have begun officially with the first ~eneral congress 6f religious held in Rome near the close .of the Holy Year, 1950. At this meeting, on December 8th, Pope Pius XII delivered an allocution in + + + VOLUME 25, 1966 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which he outlined three reasons why religious should update themselves: For the changed c~nditions of the world which the Church must~ encounter, certain points of doctrine touching upon the status and condition of moral perfection, not to mention the pressing needs of the apostolic work which you have so widely and so generously undertaken, all these have called you to devote your-selves to this systematic study and discussion. The same reasons prompted the Sacred Congregation of Religious to summon the First National Congress of Religious of the United States at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. Part and parcel of the whole reform movement within the religious orders were the researches into their past histories. The studies in some instances may not have been altogether conclusive, but at least they pointed out lines of development. They put religious into a position where they have to either retain or reject the essentials of their past, paralleling the present-day Church reform which will not abandon the basic struc-ture of the Church, Religious have to decide what sort of growth they want', homogeneous or heterogeneous. To be or remain a homogeneous body, the religious insti-tute, as the schema De religiosis recommends, must faithfully retain its nature, purpose, special spirit, and sound tradition--everything which constitutes the patrimony of the institute. The historian John Tracy Ellis called attention to this necessity in his address to the Paulists on the occasion of the diamond jubilee celebration of St. Paul's College, Washington, D.C., January 25, 1965. In this era of change he advised "the parallel need of holding fast to a sense of history if we are to escape the consequences, of mere change for change's sake, of what I would call--if the term be allowed---the curse of 'presentism.' " The historical researches accomplished at least one thing: they gave the orders more or less a sense of identity. Erik H. Erikson, the psychologist, defined per-sonal identity as follows: The term identity expresses such a mutual relation in that it connotes both a persistent sameness within oneself (self-same-ness) and a persistent sharing of some kind of essential charac-ter with others. Although his definition fits personal identity, it is analogically applicable to the "moral persons" which re-ligious orders are. A sense of identity is most important for normal psychological and spiritual renewal. The man who cannot identify himself is either an amnesia victim or is ignorant or leads a schizophrenic existence. If young candidates entering a religious order cannot identify themselves with it because there is nothing to identify with, the more is the pity. As Pope Paul VI stated in his address to religious referred to above, the work of general chapters is to accommodate constitutions to "the changed conditions of the times"; but it must be done in such a wa~ that "the proper nature and discipline of the institute is kept intact." No renovation of discipline is to be intro-duced excepting what accords with "its specific pur-pose." Therefore, until this accommodation of discipline is duly processed and brought into .juridic effect, let the religious mem-bers not introduce anything new 0n their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline nor give way to censorious crit-icism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and' obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same, in all its integrity,s The Pope certainly did not have in mind the ,idea of implementing constitutions to the point where they are voluminous, minutely detailed, and unlivable; for such constitutions can easily cramp the style of religious liv-ing. "Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life," remarked Pope Paul "It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them." 0 It is particularly irksome to men, and I suppose to women too, to be ruled by many minute prescriptions. But in the meanwhile; while the constitutions are under study or revision, it will not do to adopt or maintain "the practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved" 10 which sap the strength of religious discipline. Is there a behavioral pattern, psychological and socio-logical, which religious can follow in order to promote metanoia for the present and into the future? Govern-ment and business have had psychological and socio-logical studies made to 'guide societies and institutions toward self-renewal. They have begun to understand the processes, reasons, and conditions for the growth and decline in societies.11 Of course we cannot accept the complete structure and dynamics of reform which they use; but they have been able to outline a good, comprehensive pattern of reform. The following, then, will be some explanation of the principles of self-renewal pertinent to religious orders. Religious orders s Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 9 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 10 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 11 See John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal, the Individual and Inno. vative Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1963). VOLUME 251 1966 ÷ 4- 4. ]oseph Fichtner, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS cannot grow as supernatural cells within the body of the Church unless they accept whole-heartedly the natural (that is, psychological and sociological) dy-namics of growth. 1. A society that wishes to renew and reform itself must first of all know itself. It has a sense of identity. As religious we have, more or less, a self-image. Con-fusedly at least all of us have a picture in our minds of the ideal religious, namely, one who lives a Christlike life as distinct and unique. Now self-knowledge is not a still-life picture but a moving picture of self-develop-ment, a continual search for identity. Ordinarily we find knowing ourselves difficult and inconvenient. Yet the more we have a sense of identity, which we can learn in part from our tradition, the more it helps us to plan our future--what or who we want to become. Young members may at times rebel against a tradi-tional heritage, even if it is only the starting point of their rebellion. 2. This brings us to a second principle very closely allied to the first. Self-i.dentity is largely a matter of knowing our past and having continuity with it. Our present beliefs, attitudes, feelings, values arose out of earlier personality formation, earlier learning and ex-perience, all of which is most difficult to shake off. We are more inclined to trust tradition because we experi-enced it. Historians did us the favor of recalling the past and showing how evolution already took place in it. Historians help religious groups to achieve self-knowl-edge, and in this way they serve the cause of renewal. If religious were able to sustain renewal in the past, per-haps they can feel at home with it in the future. With-out ignoring their past, they are oriented to the future and will have a hand in shaping it. The tendency of a society with a past is twofold: to persist or to change. The two tendencies are not diametrically, opposed. In fact, it is wrong to oppose change to continuity; both must be given due emphasis, Our aim should be to endlessly interweave continuity with change. "The only stability possible is stability in motion." ~ Religious do nonetheless face the danger to-day of living in an age when the rate of change has sped up almost to leaving them in the dust. They can expand or grow or change so rapidly and wildly that it will be cancerous and kill the values they want to keep. 3. True religious see and share a vision of something worth saving. This vision is made up of all the motiva-tion, conviction, commitment, and values that give meaning to their life. Only if they believe in something Gardner, SelpRenewal, p. 7. can they change something for the better. Otherwise they will experience a failure of heart and spirit. The self-renewing religious will have something about which they are thoroughly convinced and about which they care so deeply that they will do something about it. Yet each one must beware of being egocentric about it. One little thing that he really cares about deeply, one little thing that he can do with zealous con-viction, gives him extra drive and enthusiasm. That is why long-term purposes or values or goals are so important for us. They have to be relatively lasting in order to determine the direction of change. Should they be fly-by-night visions and goals, they will not enable us to absorb them or do justice to them or will endanger a distinctive character and style of living. The mature religious has a religious commitment larger than himself. He has been given a religious goal not as an accomplished fact; his has to be a seeking and striving for the goal in an ever-renewing way. He will be happy in the s.triving, not necessarily in the attaining of that goal. Small victories will instill in him some satisfaction but never the idea that he has arrived, that his life is fulfilled, or that he can sit back and no longer feel the tension of self-renewal. All of us have built into our nature the hunger for meaningful, goals. They are as vital to our being as breathing. But in a sense we must breathe together. We can live together in a .religious community o.nly if we have some measure of consensus in regard to our goals, beliefs, values. We can come to some rough agreement among the many who share the same ideals. Haggling over details there will always be. No matter how pluralistic our community may be, variety and di-versity and spontaneity should not be allowed to inter-fere with at least a middle ground of ideals, goals, and visions. We do ourselves an injustice if we allow all sorts of individual values to conflict in a careless atmos-phere of freedom and then expect something good to come from them. Such a procedure is equivalent in economics to the false theory of laissez-faire. On the other hand, change for the better is brought about when socially or communally acquired and ap-proved ideals, convictions, goals change. In this way change takes place according to psychological and socio-logical laws. It is possible to change laws, the external marks of a society, without affecting the beliefs, prac-tices, and values of the members of that society. Men commonly live as they think; hence to change their life demands a conversion of their minds and hearts. Their life is bound to change if the set of ideas, feelings, and ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 25, 1966 27 ÷ ÷ O.~.C, R~:VIEW FOR RELiGiOUS attitudes which the individual shhres with the members of the society changes. 4. Any renewal or reform, therefore, ought to be aimed at the individual or person. He must find himself in a ~ort of do-it-yourself movement. He must be free and independent enough, flexible and versatile enough, to be open to change. If he isolates himself from others within his group, if he fails to cross-fertilize with them, he will not change or grow. Anthropologists point out that .much cultural change comes about through bor-rowing from others. Karl Rahner makes the pointed remark in his book, Theology for Renewal: If anyone wants to have the Church changed, he must make himself the starring-point of renewal. For the crldc himself is part .of what the Church is suffering from. For usually his own life is not much of a recommendation for Christianity.~ The same remark may be applied to the religious critic. We are more prone to criticize others than to be self-critical. Each religious has personality traits which favor either change or persistence (conservatism), and no doubt many have a mixture of the two. A characteristic of the self-renewing religious is that he 'has a mutually fruitful rapport with others. He is capable of accepting and giving love and friendship. Without such love and friendship, the person enters into rigid isolation. The loving and friendly person depends upon others and can be depended upon. He discovers common tastes, interests, is accessible, and is willing to lend assistance. He makes others feel important. In so doing he is one of the many within a vibrant society who inculcate mutual trust, affection, and identification (as opposed to carping criticism, character asshssination, and envy). They are the cross currents through which his change for better is possible~ 5. Is there enough freedom in the religious way of life to allow for change? This question has to be asked because psychologists and, sociologists maintain that only a free society is open to inquiry, experimentation, and action. A society where reasonable room is left for personal taste, self-expression, and self-criticism, will grow. Its framework or structure is not such that it throttles thought and discussion of new ideas. Authori-tarian or bureaucratic or legalist.ic societies may not throttle thought and discussion but they tend to chan-nel and control them. Freedom, however, has to be balanced with some ~Karl Rahner, Theology ]or Renewal (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), p. 87. determinism within a society. No individual religious should expect to be left to run rampant, to do as and what he pleases. Freedom may result in license. Or it may alienate him from the community. A religious who is left reasonably free may achieve responsibility; but if he seeks too much autonomy he may end up with self-pride, an inflated ego, and not really fulfill himself at all. Every person has limitations and has to come to terms with his membership in the community at large. The social side of his nature should make him realize values which are grea~er than his individual needs. 6. Change and improvement usually spring up in a community that has felt-needs for them. Felt-needs are the beginning of any renewal and reform. So religious must examine their felt-needs. There can be no metanoia unless the community feels needs, and the needs have to be felt widely enough for the majority to do some-thing about them. The first task of renewal and reform is the always difficult task of facing up to ourselves. What gap do we find between the ideals we profess and the realities we practice? How far apart do our constitutions lie from their fulfillment? We have to give due credit to the prophetic and visionary eyes and minds among us who see and speak out against the unreality or even hy-pocrisy of religious life, to whatever degree they may exist. Young members, especially, who still have the ideals and goals fresh before them, can help the rest to an honest self-examination. We do them a good turn too by telling them that their task is to re-create values in their own conduct and not simply look at them idealisti-cally. We should assure each generation of religious that they have to refight the battle and inject new life into lasting ideals and goals. 7. No amount of organization, law-making, socializing will help a religious society to renew and reform unless men in it have the determination to 'foster renewal and reform. It is men who make up a society, not laws or regulations or structures. It is the personal environ-ment that makes for growth, for between the individual and his environment there takes place something like osmosis. If we do not set a pace by our ideals and ex-ample for incoming members, then they will believe little is expected of them. Of whom much is expected, the chances are that he will expect much of himself. If he is educated and motivated in an atmosphere that en-courages effort, sacrifice, selflessness, it is very likely that he will be affected greatly and respond mightily. We take it for granted that the young religious is a free and responsible individual. He will become in-creasingly responsible if we set up for him a meaning- VOLUME 25, 1966 29 Joseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ful relationship with larger and higher goals. We help him to free himself fr6m the "prison of utter selb preoccupation" by instructing and leading him to place himself in the free and willing service of these goals and the people aiming at them. In !religious life as well as in any other, family li~e' included, deeds speak louder than words~ Authentic religious conduct preaches a better lesson than 'any homily, sermon, conference, or instruction. None o~ us learns much from principles, but we do emulate people who are high-principled and exemplary. Ordinarily we do not analyze or list the virtues we wish to develop, unless it be during meditation; but we identify our-selves with the people who have virtue. That is why all of us~ young and old, need models in our imaginative life and in our immediate environment, models of what we at our best can be. At the risk of too much repeti-tion, it should be said that what we do communicates moral and spiritual values much more than what we say~ Words are cheap. Action calls for assuming burden-some and sacrificing responsibility. It is a summons to spiritual greatness. . ¯ 8. The danger in religious life is tO think we can progress morally and spiritually without changing psychologically, socially, culturally. Change for the better---evolution and not revolution or historic acci-dent- usually is a slow, complex, unpredictable, some-what risky and painful process. It does not happen by leaps and bounds; it takes time and hard effort. When practices change, they will not be acceptable evenly .throughout a whole community. Some will wel-come them, others resist them. So many factors and their interplay go into change for the better that they make change complex. And the complexity of a changing situation .brings with it a risk. It takes prudent analysis and prognosis to decide whether the risk is reasonably calculable. Members of a society who are "on their toes" and not living "in a rutV will forestall wild and revolutionary change. Historians have shown that long-range changes came about through successive small innovations, most of them unobtrusive and anonymous. People who lived through the innovation would probably admit that they did not know it was happening; But innovators who herald a change with a flourish of trumpets should ex-pect to meet up with attack and opposition. That pain accompanies growth is inevitable; everybody wants to grow and progress but nobody wants the pain that goes with it. 9. The locus of metanoia is the minds and hearts of ~he individual members of the community, in those minds and hearts where there is the hidden potential of zeal, dedic~ition, a sense of. mission, leadership, and a willingness to sacrifice. Members who have closed minds and hearts have lost the capacity for metanoia. For the self-renewing man there is no end to the development o[ his abilities. He is not a gold mine left unti~pped or an oil well only partially drilled. Psychologists advise us of the fact that many go through life without nearly salvaging all their ta, lents.~ Nothing can be so decisive for refiewal as the use of G6~l-given talents. Conversion VOLUME 25, 1966 31 GUSTAVE MARTELET, S.J. The Church's Holiness ¯ and Religious Life + ÷ + Gustave Martelet, s.J., is professor of fundamental theol-ogy at 4, Mont~e de Fourvi~re; Lyon (V), France. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. RELIGIOUS L~FE AND PREFERENTIAL LOVE OF JEsus CHRIST The* eschatological character of virginity contributes spiritual depth to our understanding of religious life; we must now analyze the latter in still greater detail. Having begun by considering the holiness of the Church (I), which appeared inseparable from her mystery as Spouse (II), we saw that marriage represents sacramentally a mys-tery whose content is spiritually appropriated by virginity (III). This insight illuminated the eschatological meaning of virginity and exposed its motivating drive, a preferen-tial love of Christ (IV). This love throws the greatest light on religious life, and it is in function of that love that our first comprehensive glance at the state must be cast--the concern of the present section. We shall examine the na-ture of religious life'in iiself, its dependence on the mys-tery of the Church, and the significance which consecrated virginity retains today with regard to religious life. 1. Nature o[ Religious Life We do not pretend to supply an exhaustive treatment of this vast subject, for that would simultaneously entail a consideration of the history of the Church, of canon l~aw, * This is the second part of Raymond L. Sullivant's translation of Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The first part of the translation appeared in the November, 1965, issue of the REvzE\v; and the rest of the translation will be printed in the March, 1966, issue. When completed, the entire trans-lation will be issued by the REvmw in a clothbound edition. Notifica-tion of the date o~ publication of the clothbound edition will be made to all those who send a request for this notification to R~vmw ro~ R~mmos; St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas 66536. The request for this notification does not constitute an order for the book and in-volves no financial obligation. of liturgy, and of dogma; but we shall present its meaning from the viewpoint which we have set for ourselves.04 When considering the importance of virginity in the thought of the fathers, we must resist the temptation to construct a strict parallel between that state and the re-ligious life and to reduce the one state to the other. The adoption o.f this excessive view is done from a de-sire to augment the grandeur proper to virginity. While we have seen why there is little danger of overestimating its value, still a careful analysis establishes that virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such. To be sure, the history of consecrated virginity as that of widowhood with whicti it has much in common05 eventually meshed with the history of religious life itself. But regardless of the progressive absorption of the order of virgins into that of nuns, a fundamental difference pre-vents the loss of their separate identities: religious life re-quires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity. We a,re grateful to Father Mogenet for an unpublished ex-planation of the point: Since St. Paul's day, the Church has had a too sensitive awareness of the virginal dignity of Jesus and our Lady not to recognize its exemplarity. She has exalted the charism of Virginity and has honored Christ's virgins who have been mem-bers of the Christian community since the first century. Never-theless, when religious life developed as the more or less con-scious response to the three evangelical counsels, no one thought of restricting it to virgins. The deserts, as later the monasteries and the convents, received converted sinners, married men, widowers, and the chaste single as well. And al-though virginity is a privileged state in following Christ, it is not an indispensable condition. It would seem that St. Peter had been married. We can almost say that Christ's call takes no account of the past. It draws the hearer from family life, from the project of founding a home, to the sacrifice of human love. The summons commits the aspirant to a continent exist-ence which requires perfect chastity as its normal state. This condition permits religious life to become, for those outside its ranks and most notably for the married, the support and model which it should always be.~0 Conse-quently, it is clear that religious life cannot be reduced to virginity alone. For even as the value of the latter arises ~ On this point a generally recognized role is played at the present time by Father Ren~ Carpentier's book, Li]e in the City oI God (New York: Benziger, 1959); the volume has the merit of never separating evangelical perfection and the mystery of the Church. m Andr~ Rosambert, La veuve dans le droit canonique jusqu'au xiv~ si~cle (Paris: Dalloz, 1923); on the status of consecrated virgins during the fourth and fifth centuries, see, for example, Jean Gaude-met, L'Eglise dans l'Empire romain (iv"-v~ siOcles) (Paris: Sirey, 1958), pp. 206-11. ~ Bishop Huyghe, whose writings on religious life are well known, put a great emphasis on this point in his speech to the Council on re-ligious life; see D.C., v. 60 (1963), col. 1590-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]¢ VOLUME 2S, 1966. ÷ Oustave Marteleg, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the preferential love of Christ which consecrates it, love can vow true chastity to Christ even when virginity has been humanly destroyed. Recognition of the prefer-ential love of Christ is equally important for a proper un-derstanding of poverty and obedience. Christ's call can be directly traced to His command to sell all one's goods (Mt 19:21); and the example of St. Francis as well as that of Father de Foucauld emphasizes the close relationship that unites poverty to love of the Poor One par excellence, Christ Himself. The same can be said of obedience. Whether obedience is linked with the demands of common life lived in conformity with the vita apostolica,6z or whether it is explained (as was done in the Rule of the Master adopted by St, Benedict) with reference to the role of the abbot as Christ's "vicar" in ac-cord with St. Luke 10:16: "Who hears you, hears me," or whether obedience is primarily envisioned as an "imita-tion" of Christ in His dependence on His Father as ex-pressed in St. John 6:38: "I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will but the will of him who sent me," 68 makes no difference: in every one of these view-points, obedience is an integral part of religious life even though the present canonical form of the vow of obb-dience dates only from Carolingian times.69 Nevertheless, in its case also condition and essence must not be con-fused. Obedience, as poverty and chastity, is a sine qua non condition of the religious life. But can we say that it is its very content? The answer is yes, to the degree that by its suppression religious life would be emptied of one of its specific obligations. But the answer is no, if by mak-ing obedience the content of religious life one comes to forget that religious obedience attains its goal only by as-suring the reign of the will of Christ over our own will. Hence the organized exercise o£ the three counsels truly manifests the nature of religious life but only to the exact extent that this exercise reposes directly upon the love of the Lord, aims at imitating Him, and~emanates from His mystery through the power of the Spirit. The explana-tion, previously established when defining the eschatolo-gical meaning of virginity, should help us understand the ¯ z M.-H. Vicaire, L'imitation des Apdtres. Moines, chanoines, raen. diants (iv~-xiii~ si~cles) (Paris: Cerf, 1963). ~s De Vogii6, La communautd et l'abbd, pp. 128-9. n~ Catherine Capelle, Le voeu d'obdlssance des origines jusqu'au xii~ si~cle. Etude juridique (Paris: Librairie g~n6rale de droit et jurispru-dence, 1959), pp. 153-79, dates the juridical birth o£ the vow o[ obe-dience from a Chapter of 789; but as she remarks on pp. 208-13 it is necessary to wait for Yves of Chartres in the eleventh cer~tury for a theory of the vow over and beyond the practice of obedience. On the . relationship of the three vows to religious life see the discourse of Paul VI given on May 23, 1964 in the English translation, REVIEW KELtg~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp: 700--1. point, since the spiritual basis of virginity is the desire to belong to Christ in an absolutely exclusive fashion. A point raised by the rule of St. Benedict in its fourth chap-ter, "The Instrument of Good Works," is of utmost per-tinence in this matter: "Nihil amori Christi praeponere," says the great legislator: "Put nothing before Christ's love." The axiom comes directly from the Vita Antonii. St. Anthanasius there depicts St. Anthony "repeating to all that they should desire none of the world's goods in preference to the love of Christ." 70 One wouId search in vain to find this central idea expressed with more lapidary compactness. And who would be better authorized than St. Benedict to condense western monasticism's raison d'etre into a concise formula? The same thought appears in the seventy-second chapter of the rule to explain the ardent zeal which monks should have: "They will prefer absolutely nothing to Christ who deigns to conduct us all to eternal life." 71 And it is the eschatological note that gives such complete fullness to the formula. It is because Christ "is the beginning, the first-born from the dead (that in everything he might be preeminent)" (Col 1:18) that nothing must be put before Christ and that one should die to everything rather than die to Him who is Life itself. Hence His priority as the Lord over all things and over ourselves--"Everything is yours but you are Christ's and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:2)--must be trans-lated on the level of love by an exclusive preference for His Person and by an unconditional desire to follow and imitate Him alone. Accordingly, all monastic life, as all religious institutes afterwards, crystallizes around the practice, of the three evangelical counsels with a view to assuring the rigorous ascendancy of Christ's ways over those of the world. Since Christ is completely despoiled of material goods (He "has not a stone on which to rest his head" [Mt 8:20]), since His own relationship with others does not take carnal generation into account ("Who is my mother and who are my brothers?. Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, my sister, and my mother" [Mt 12:48]), and since He does not exercise His liberty except by delivering it up to the will of His Father (Jn 6:38), religious life will accordingly be defined as a ca-nonically determined break (even if it is not always spir-itually accomplished), with the possessions of the world by poverty, with carnal generation and conjugal love by ~o P.G., v. 26, col. 865 A, a citation derived from the previously men-tioned unpublished work of Father Mogenet. On the Athanasian au-thenticity of the Vita Antonii, see Louis Bouyer, La vie du saint ~lntoine (Saint Wandrille: Editions de Fontenelle, 1950), pp. 15'-22. ~ Citations of the Rule of St. Benedict are made according to the text of Dom Philibert Schmitt. + Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 Ousta~e Mar~eleg, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS chastity, with personal hegemony over self by obedience. This triple rupture defines, by way of three complemen-tary means, a unique and single preference which should e~]ectively animate the religious' entire being, And if man is, in effect, a relation to nature through possession, a re-lation to the other thr~ough love, and a relation to sell through liberty, then poverty, chastity, and obedience are the triple condition of one and the same preference: the preference for Christ over all the goods of the world', sac-rificed to Him who appears as the One Necessity, the pref-erence for Christ over carnal generation, and even more so over conjugal love, sacrificed to Him who appears as Love itself, the preference for Christ over our own indi-vidual liberty, sacrificed to Him who appears as the only Lord. Understood in this manner, religious !ire is the applica-tion of the call: "Come follow me," in which tradition has always seen the principle of life according to the coun-sels. Directed to the rich young man in Galilee (Mt 19:21), Jesus' personal summons is ceaselessly repeated by the Spirit in the ever present reign of the resurrected Christ: On the basis of a love for the Lord of glory alone, the Spirit founds the movement of grace that is religious life. As a way of life in keeping with the evangelical counsels and canonically defined within the Church, religious life is first of all the choice of an end and only secondly a sys-tem of means. It is a response which presupposes a call, a canonical institution commanded by a spiritual love.It becomes an institution only because it was first an inspira-tion; it becomes the letter of a rule only because it was first the spirit of the Gospel. And if it is true that the counsels themselves are still a letter when isolated from the Spirit from which they live,r2 it is also true that the letter of religious life takes form from the letter of the Gospel only by the charismatic mediation of the Holy Spirit Himself. Religious life assumes a bodily form only when the Spirit breathes into souls the soul of the Gospel. This soul is none other than the spiritual preference of Christ over all things in keeping with the words of St. Benedict cited above: "Put nothing before the love of Jesus,Christ." r~ By constructing this formula for his sons and for all of those who would hear the faithful echo of the Gospel through i(, St. Benedict initiated his followers into the well,founded hope of "eternal life," that is to say, of "the life lived forever with the Lord," the anticipation" 7a Dom Lafont gives strong insistence to this point in the work cited in footnote 7, pp. 170-83. ra On the centrality of Christ in the gospel message see de Grand-maison, Jesus Christ, v. 2 and v. 3, pp. 3-346; and R. Guardini, Das Wesen des Christentums (Sth ed.; W0rzburg: ~Werksbund-Verlag, 1958). of which is the proper mission of religious life in the Church. By this preferential love of Jesus Christ, religious life, far from living in isolation from the Church, enters, as does virginity, into her most profound being and shows itseff subject to her. 2. Religious Life's Dependence on the Church We are speaking here of the whole Church for the serv-ice of which religious life exists, as we shall see in the last section. But for the present we wish to consider in a gen-eral way the essential dependence of religious life on the hierarchy and on the Christian community itself. By first drawing attention to marriage and its dependence on the Church, we shall better understand the position of reli-gious life. A. The Church and the Christian Couple Many of the faithful are indignant (and some of them ventilate their dissatisfaction in the daily press) over the fact that the Church through her magisterium wishes to impose a conjugal ethic on them. Although there are sometimes unjustified clerical probings into the private lives of couples, this indiscretion is not the object of the litigation. The latter arises from the Church's right to is-sue obligatory laws in the conjugal order. Contraception is not the only sensitive area; problems of a similar na-ture cluster around the subject. We do not propose here to solve any of these problems but only to indicate the spirit with which the intervention of the Church in such matters is to be accepted. In so doing, we shall contribute to the understanding of the relations that exist between the Church and religious life. Christian marriage is the sign of the 'union of Christ and the Church. The spousal charity of Christ and the Church must consequently be reflected in marriage if it is to obtain the transparency of a sign. To avoid saying that Christ has not assumed flesh in its entirety, we must recognize that all flesh must bear the mark of Christ and exercise that paradoxical docility which the Spirit de-mands of it. Christian conjugal ethic is dominated by this end. It has no other reason for being than to assure to the human love of the partners that spiritual clarity befitting the sacramentality of their love. Christianity assumes re-sponsibility for the most authentic prescriptions of human ethics; but in making them both more urgent and more imprescriptible, it demonstrates the need for transparency which the sign should have and the latter's ability in Christ to follow Him. That is why no home can be more human or purer, more united or freer, more self-sac-rificing or happier, humbler and more transfigured, than the home in which the light of Christ shines and where 4- 4- 4- "Religious Life VOLUME 25, 1966 . Gustave Martelet, ~,. $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS His flame burns. It is thu"s apparent ~hat the Church can never sacrifice the conjugal ethic since the human love of the baptized must reflect, even in the flesh, the sanctity which she represents. The objection of those Christians who maintain that the Church cannot pronounce on :subjects which Chris~t did not discuss is indeed fragile. Christ's sile,nce, while ap-parently impressive, is quite relativ6 when one reflects on the manner in which He spoke'of tl~e indissblubility of the conjugal bond (Mt 19:9) a~nd of foregoing the works of the flesh "in view of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:22).' Even if Christ had~ not.spoken, one could not declare the Bride in.competent tq d~e~fine :t,he standards "of the Gyoom to those who represent the mystery itself. Christ. would have shown little respect for His Bride, in fact, He wohld have shown outright distrust for her and lack of faith in the:intuitions of which His Spirit is the .guarantee, if He had not endowed His Church with the. right and the duty "to.speak" in an area where the bridal mysyery which she lives directly orientates the spi.ritua! underst.a.ndin~ of the couple's love. Yet the Church's authority does not sup-plant Christ in His mystery. The 'former relies on the lat-ter; she thus rejoins the profound life of her children--a life which is sometimes resisted but never denied: The latter know that they will never truly communicate with Christ through their love if ~they reject the manner in which the Church forms and guides their consciences. B: The Church and P~eligious Life If she takes so much care with regard to the sacrament of marriage, the sign of her bridal mystery, the hierarchi- Cal Church watches nb less jealously over religious life: If in the free holiness of the married she wishes to see 'the bldssoming of an image of what they become in and by th~ sacrament, she cannot be disinterested in ~hose Who pretend not only to represent but to spiritually actualize the v.ery love. of the Bride as it is directed in its entirety toward the Groom. The Church's ~igilance over the sac-ramental ~ign of her nupti_als in marriage can only be re-doubledin the case of the spiritual~ fulfillment 9f thesd huptials in religious life. The lat~er trul)i exist~ in the .Chu.rch~.only when i.t is discerned; judged, a~proved, con-trolled, 'su~pb.r~ed, afid'criticized.'lS)i hier~irchical action, 1.oc.al" orsupr~me;, of which it ~an neither atiempt nor de-s~ re to be free. ¯ This essential function as judge" and. guardian is never brought t~o fulfillment not only because human weakness is forever prone to compromise :what gener'osity 'in th~ SpirivoHginal]y envisage~l and ~romised but a'l~o b~cause ~ov~'g" ingpi~a~ion Wtiic-l~ giv'e~"-'birfl~ ~0 ~eligioh~ life" ig never dulled and because from the flight to the desert to the ransom of captives, from the highest conte.mplation to the most obscure nursing service, from ancient Carm.el to. modern Nazareth, from the monastic 9rders to the secu-lar institutes, the Bride must al.ways discern the various ways" in which the Groom inspires her through her chil-dren. Let it suffice to state that religious life, charismati-cally given to the Church by Chrigt Himself, exists in the Church only as canonically submissive to her law. More-over, if this strict submission does not des.troy religious life but~ rather makes it flourish, the reason is that throUgh this submission religious life finds its own truth. Publicly "recognized" by the Church as a privileged "way of holi-ness, religious life understands itself as the flowering within the Church of the Bride's mystery of loving re-sponse to the Groom's love. Religious life's dependence on the mystery of the Church is not only hierarchical but is also connected with the entire Christian community. The evangelical coun-sels which mold religious life do not make the pi:eferen-tial love of Christ become a monopoly of the monastery. Every Christian--and, strictly speaking, every man--is called to this love; and the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount are directed to every member of die Church "as the norm for the moral conduct of the baptized." 74 While' it is true that as far as the manner of loving Chri~ alcove all things and of thereby entering into the love of God is concerned religious life represents a privileged state, still it is of absolute necessity for no one. Although pos-sessing a universal value of exemplarity, it is imposed only on some, and then by a determined vocation. Holiness is never automatically assured those who commit themselves to this way of the vows; and there is no doubt that many Christians remain more faithful to Christ in the world than certain religious do in ,their monasteries or convents. Hence, religious have no grounds for' Complacendy or for a disparaging attitude toward those who are not mem-bers of religious life. The person who becOmes a religious enters a state of life which he may be unworthy hence humility is necessary for him--but which of itself initiates him into a perfect love of Christ--hence depre-ciation by Christians of such a life is impossible. Religious life, then, does not exist in order to divide the Church b~ absUrd rivalries over the better and the less good but on!y in order .that, the sovereign love of "Christ may increase and'that the life of the vows may assume at the depths of it-self the evangelical traits of the Lord. Never regarding it-self as opposed or superior to anyone, religious life must always be at the service of all men by means of those who ~* Lafont, "$aintet~ du peuple de Dieu," p. 1~5. + + + Religious Life~ VOLUME 25, 1966 39 ÷ ÷ ÷ Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS attempt to live it out and who take care not to betray .its ideals. Such is the dependence of religious life on the Church for the service of which it is born and must perdure. It is judged by the. hierarchy with a view to benefiting the common spiritual good of the entire Church. Like con-jugal life (and because it refers to One and the same mys-tery but in a different way), religious life cannot destroy its dependence on the Church as a whole, whether it be a question of the hierarchy who judges it and supports it in its fundamental inspiration or whether it be a mat-ter of the faithful whom it should stimulate to the love of tile Lord and by whom it is itself stimulated: "God or-ganizes his holy ones for the work of the ministry in view of the building up the body of Christ, until we all attain (o the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12-~). Hence, despite (or, more accurately, because of) its integration into the life of the Body, religious life retains an irreducible original-ity which we shall have occasion to discuss later. This originality, which integrates religious life into the Body while simultaneously differentiating it, does not suggest separation or exclusiveness. This is why its full canonical development does not prevent the possible renewal of forms which historically preceded it. C. Religious Life and Virginity or Consecrated Widowhood It is easy to understand why the order of virgins and widows was practically absorbed into that of nuns during the course of history. When reading the recommendations to virgins and consecrated widows made by St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, or St. Augustine,75 to limit our consideration to the western fathers, one receives the impression, con-firmed by history, that these women be.longed to a state of life in which equilibrium was maintained with diffi-culty. A certain kind of exterior protection was lacking to many of them, and thht "sweet odor of Christ" which initially stimnlated their resolutions sometimes evapo-rated in lamentable circumstances. By endowing Christian generosity and the desire to consecrate oneself to Christ with a defined monastic framework, religious life quite ¯ naturally almost completely absorbed the order of virgins and that of consecrated widows which were formerly overexposed to many dangers. Spiritual situations, which 75 For example, Cyprian, Liber de habitu virginum (P.L., v. 4, col. 439-62; Ambrose, De virginibus (P.L., v. 16, col. 187-232), De virgini-tare (ibid., col. 265-302); Augustine, De sancta virginitate, (P.L. v. 40, col. 412-28). On widowhood, see Ambrose, De viduis (P.L., v. 16, col. 233-62); Augustine, De bono viduitatis (P.L., v. 40, col. 4~II-50). were still unstable, thereby received a precise form. This was a good thing from one aspect, but frdm one aspect only. For a valuable diversity thus tended to disappear even though there do exist within the Church Christian individuals or groups who without becoming conventual religious consecrate their virginity or widowhood to the Lord. This non-conventual exercise of religious consecra-tion of self has regained favor in our day to an unusual degree. Many Christian women,TM desirous of living their bap-tismal regeneration in the form of absolute consecration to Christ, receive no call to abandon the world where family, children, profession, business, .and situation ex-pect and demand of them a daily, total devotedness. In the minds of these Christians the consecration of their vir-ginity or widowhood to Christ does not necessarily iden-tify itself with the practice of leading a religious life apart from the world's structures. Without criticizing those who follow a more classical road to perfection, they demand little more than the three vows of religious life to express their gift of self to the Lord. Their borrowings may also include certain organizational aspects of life and the tone of a definite spirituality, but they do not usually exceed these features. They desire to take religious life from its conventual conditions in order to implant it in the world --which that state had justifiably abandoned in the be-ginning. The reasons justifying this abandonment of the world and assuring to convent and cloister their incon-testable values (though these have not always been uncon-tested) thus permit the conception of new forms of reli-gious life. The spiritual break with the world which should always characterize religious life can operate in an entirely interior fashion without imposing a rupture that may be described as a sociological or, better still, a conventual one. On the contrary, the structures which are most typical of the world can become the condition of a highly intense though less apparent form of religious life. In all this the ideal of the secular institutes is recog-nized. The latter represent one of the most original ex-pressions of religious life in the Church today.77 Duly 76 Cardinal L~ger reminded the Council of this fact. He also in-sisted on the fact that there should not be too rapid an identification of consecrated virginity with religious life: there are persons who de-sire the first but who perhaps are incapable of the second (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1593). This was doubtless the meaning also of the re-marks of Bishop Huyghe (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1594). r~ For an overall view of the matter see Jean Beyer, Les instituts s~culiers (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1954). Consult also the same author's "La vocation s~culi~re," Nouvelle revue th~ologique, v. 86 (1964), pp. 135-57, where complementary data are given On the situ-ation of secular institutes at the present time. On Father Beyer's book see the remarks of Father Carpentier, "Les instituts s~culiers," Nou- 4. 4" Religious Li]e VOLUME 25, 1966 41 encouraged by Roman authority,rs this new state is em-barking, it is our belief, upon other realizations which it virtually contains and which go back to ancient formulas whose significance is by no means exhausted. The term "secular institutes" designates greatly differ-ent kinds of groups.79 Besides such institutes as Opus Dei which has the attractiveness of large-scale dimensions, there are other groupings whose aims and methods are more modest. The members ofthese latter groups think less in terms of vast, extensive actions than in those of an unreserved gift of self to the Lord; their way of life calls to mind more the reed than the oak. Since the end pur-sued in these groupings is less the secularization of reli-gious life than the consecration of profane existence, many specifications of religious life which are and no doubt should be characteristic of secular institutes appear less necessary to these groups. Thus, in the absence of common life, the observance of obedience and poverty is difficult of realization. Furthermore, obedience and pov-erty, even when maintained for good reasons, would imply in these groups a dependence and control which are not indispensable for the spiritual ends envisaged by the members of these groupings. Accordingly, the different positio.n taken up with regard to certain modalities of the religious life formally considered does not arise from a weaker desire for Christian perfection nor from an initial lukewarmness; it is rather the result of a different inspi-ration. It is not a question of criticizing the values of re-ligious life or of protesting the help to be found in reli-gious life, whether conventual or secularized; it is rather a matter of consecrating virginity or widowhood to the Lord while allowing freedom from many determinations which this consecration has assumed within the frame-work of religious life properly so-called ~and which con-tinue to characterize--legitimately so--secular institutes. The desire to return to formulas less rigid even than those of these institutes is the desire (and it is not necessarily chimerical) to return to the ancient formulas of conse-crated virginity and widowhood. Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS velle revue thdologique, v. 77 (1955), pp. 408-12. And see the more re-cent remarks of Karl Rahner who clearly shows that members of secular institutes are, in the Church, genuinely religious even though in and for the world they are lay persons (Theology Ior Renewal [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964], pp. 147-83). ~s The two fundamental documents are those of Pius XII: Provida Mater of February 2, 1947, and Primo [eliciter of March 12, 1948; English translations in T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, s.J., The Canon Law Digest Ior Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 143-55 and 157-61. ~ At the end of Father Beyer's book on secular institutes will be found a list of fifty-eight existing groups with a brief description of each. We have already mentioned the weaknesses shown in the past by this way of life, weaknesses.that necessitate a real sense of prudence in this matter. But the present sit-uation is not entirely the same as that of past ages. Reli-gious life has benefited from centuries of experience; it exercises a decisive influence on the effort of every Chris-tian to reach perfection. Accordingly, what in past ages religious life would have reduced to itself, it can now re-frain from absorbing, allow to grow, and even protect in its own way. In this way virginity and consecrated widow-hood could regain their own particular status outside of conventual or secularized religious life and beyond that life Of the baptized that retains all legitimate Christian rights with regard to marriage. Being canonicaIly more supple than any known form of religious life and at the same time having the spiritual seriousness of a complete giving of self to the Lord in the Spirit of the gospel, con-secrated virginity and widowhood would then represent in our world a way of pertaining to the Lord to which Christians, not well adapted for religious life, could feel themselves called in order to live an intense life centered on Christ and the gospel and based on a total consecra-tion of self which spiritually transforms one's life without modifying it socially. A similar procedure which could revive in the twen-tieth century one of the most venerable but also most threatened institutions of Christian spirituality would suppose a profound renewal of schools of spirituality gathered around the great orders, both monastic and apos-tolic. By remaining or becoming centers of a profound religious spirit aiad by renouncing any control which would in any way limit the freedom of action of the men and women who seek a support that is purely spiritual, religious orders could provide an enormous service to Christian women, to speak only of them, by offering them a permanent and profound consecration of self to Christ in the world without entering the religious life in the proper sense of the word. For the sake of concretizing the matter, is it necessary to say that the matter discussed here is that of a profound renewal of third orders and of "third congregations"? Yes, if one wishes to put it that way; but the renewalmust be a radical one permitting the spiritual training that is given to take complete account of modern conditions of life; furthermore, the spiritual heritage drawn upon must provide souls with a truly profound in-troduction both to the Lord to whom they consecrate themselves and to the world for the benfit of which Christ frees them. Although these possibilties are offered only as sugges-tions, still the preceding considerations concerning simi-larities and differences between consecrated virginity and Religious Liye VOLUME 25, 1966 43 ~ustcwe Martele~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life supply a foundation for them. Forms of con-secration to Christ are of an infinite diversity within the Church. Some of them are completely new; others reclaim ancient practices and endow them with :a new spirit. It is to the latter type ~hat adaptation of secular institute formulas for the purpose of consecrated virginity and widowhood is related. In this the approbation of the Church will be necessary; but so also will be the inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit whose preeminent role at the very base of religious life must now be explicitly considered. VI. LOVE OF CHRIST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SPIRIT The role of the Spirit is irreplaceable in acquiring the love and knowledge of Christ: "No one can say: 'Jesus is Lord' except by the action of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cot 12:3). In order to understand the true sources of religious life in the Church, it is therefore necessary to speak first of the Spirit as the revealer of Christ. The point is an es-sential one in Scripture. After Pentecost, when St. Peter announced the identity .of Jesus for the first time in Jeru-salem, he cried: "Let all the house of Israel, therefore, know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36). But before reaching this conclusion, St. Peter had already ex-plained: "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise o[ the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you see and hear" (Acts 2:32-3). It is thus the effusion of'the Spirit by Christ which reveals His own glorification and which even constitutes it in a certain way. Jesus is riot the Lord with-out being, in keeping with this title, the One who gives us the Spirit. The Son's glorification by the Father in the Resurrection and His dispatch of the Spirit from the Father are two aspects of the mystery that are rigorously correlative as the Gospel explicitly proclaims: "Neverthe-less, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). And similarly: "But when the Counselor comes whom I shall send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who pro-ceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). o The dissensions raised by these texts--and others to ¯ which we shall refer later--is well known. The Orthodox interpret them as a guarantee of the complete dependence of the Son and the Spirit in regard to the Father, while we see in them the acknowledgement of the equality which the Son receives from the Father with regard to the eternal procession of the Spirit. It is the Filioque quarrel on which we shall not delay,s° We have mentioned the matter, however, since it is not without pertinence, usu-ally unperceived, to our subject. For while insisting more than our Orthodox brothers on the eternal role of the Son in the procession of the Spirit, we mugt not fail to remember the complementary role of the Spirit in refer-ence to the Son. The point is as vital to the theology of the processions as it is to the economy of the missions,sl And in fact, if it is true that the spiration of the Spirit cannot be understood without relating it to the Son in eternity since the ~piration is nothing else then the act by which the Spirit owes to the Father and to the Son His eternal existence as a divine Person, it is also true that we risk overlooking the light which the existence of the Spirit sheds in its turn on that of the two other Persons. For the Father would not be the Father of such a Son, who is con-substantial, that is, equal in nature to His Father, and the Son would not be the Son of such a Father, capable of communicating His own undivided divinity to His Son, if the One and the Other were not associated "spirators" of the Spirit. It is because the trinitarian life reaches completion in the procession of the Spirit that it can also begin in and by the generation of the Son. The entire mystery of the Father and the Son is found in that of the Spirit who results from their love and who is their very love, the eternal sign of what can be called His transcend-ent possibility. The trinitarian mystery is really conceiv-able only because it is the mystery of a God "who is Spirit" (Jn 4:24). For a better understanding of the trini-tarian mystery, it is not sufficient to say that the Son re-ceives from the Father the power to spir~ite the Spirit un-less one immediately adds that the Spirit, spirated by the Father and by the Son acting in common, is also the meas-ure and the sign of the unfathomable mystery which en-velops both and to which initiation would be impossible unless the Spirit Himseff were given us. It was to arrive at this truth that we took the preceding detour through trinitarian theology, for we could not truly know the Son and through Him the Father, in the revealing economy of the Incarnation and of the Church, unless the Spirit played His irreplaceable role of revealer and witness of Christ for us. It is this central point of view which we shall now attempt to illuminate. 1. The Mystery o[ the Spirit in His Relation to Christ + ÷ A. Necessity of the Spirit in Understanding Christ The temptation to believe that Christ could be reduced to purely human dimensions is not a chimerical one. "Is See Appendix A. See Appendix B. Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Gustave Martelet, . $.1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he not Jesus, son of Joseph, whose father find mother we know?" the Jews asked (Jn 6:42). And it is true that Hi~ human accessibility enters into Hisl role of Mediator. "That which we have heard,, which we have seen wi~h "our eyes, which we have looked upon and to~tched with our hands, concerning the word of life, we announce to you" (1 Jn 1:1-2). It is in this way that Jesus reveals to man "what noeye has seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived--what God hhs prepared for those who,,love him" (1 Cot 2:9 citing Is 64:3). This human accessibility o'f Christ, and through Him of the Father, is the very con-dition of revelation and is in a way identified with it. Not only did Jesus say: "No one comes to the Father except by me" (Jn 14:6); but He made the even more radical statement: ".Philip, who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). Hence,.it is evident that God's revelation in Christ .supposes the humanity of the Son who through that humanity takes on our own. But His humanity is precisely the humanity of the Son; accordingly, one does not enter the trinitarian mystery through it without hav-ing been introduced into it by the Father. "No one comes to me," said Jesus to the Jews, "unless the Father draws him" (Jn 6:44). And to Peter who had just recggnized and confessed Him as "the Christ, the son of the living God," Jesus declared: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16:17). It is "not of flesh and blood" but of the Father in the gift which He makes us of the Spirit. Jesus' words concerning the Paraclete in St. John have the same meaning. It is good that Jesus departs in order that the Spirit may come making it truly possible to know Jesus: "These things I have spoken to you, while I am still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:25-6). And Jesus also said: "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things' that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declhre it to you" (Jn 16: i2-4). Without the Spirit Christ will always remain for us in the order of "the flesh" which Jesus said "avails nothing" (Jn 6:63). In his turn, St. Paul affirms: "Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, at present we no longer know him in this way" (2 Cor 5:16) but only ac-cording to the "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17) which is the work of the Spirit. And the Apostle tells ns in the Letter to Titus: "And when the goodness and loving kin~dness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by' us in icighteousness but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and by the re-newal in the Holy Spirit which he poured out upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior so that we might be jus-tified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal li~e" (3:4-7). Similarly, in the Letter to the Galatian's: "BUt when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son~. so that we might receive, adoption as sons. And because' you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying 'Abbal Father!' So through God y0u"are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir" (Gal 4:4-6). It is, then, through the Spirit that the Father attracts us, beyond the ways of flesh and blood, to the very knowledge of the Son, just as one must be re-born by the power of the Spirit (Jn 3:5) if Christ is to in-troduce us into His otherwise impenetrable kingdom. Since such is the case, the truth of Christ, though at-tested by history, is not naturally accessible as a simple fact of our experience. It depends on testimony from above which does not destroy our intelligence but trans-forms it by giving it n