Suchergebnisse

Issue 58.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1999. ; Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who ~nd that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives, The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical; historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; YVashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Re!igious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission ~nust bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adviso.ry Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla $3 David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 342 feature U.S. Catholic Re!igious and Slavery: A Seldom Told Story James Fitz SM examines the significant 19th-century issue of social justice and human transformation, the story of slavery, and how relig!ous in the United States were involved. 364 372 witness Edith Stein: St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross OCD Rita E. Goldman reviews the life of Edith Stein and points out ways she models a contemporary holy life. At Home by the S~a: ' Isabel Green SCN and the House of Prayer Experience C. Walker Golla~ PhD tells the story of Sister Isabel SCN and her influence in the development .of the Hou~se of Prayer movement for spiritual renewal. 384 393 consecrated life Vita Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows Dennis J. Billy CSSR develops five basic anthropological dimensions of human existence for a more thorough understanding of the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. Authority among Religious in South Asia Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR explores some of the issues dealing with the religious tradition of authority and obedience within different cultural contexts. 403 424 discerning Becoming a Nun: A General Model of Entering Religious Life Barbara Zajac proposes from her sociological research that personal contact and visibility are key elements in fostering vocations to consecrated life. Discerning Community Leadership Mary Benet McKinney OSB presents the advantages and the difficulties that are involved in a community's use of the discernment process. departments 340 Prisms 429 Canonical Counsel: Admission to an Institute of Consecrated Life 435 Book Reviews July-August 1999 prisms In this year dedicated to God the Father, we would do well to bring into sharper focus to whom we pray. For the sake of our prayer life, we might examine how our praying is shaped by Jesus' teaching the Our Father. What are the ordinary elements that we as Christ's disciples appropriately bring to our day-to-day way of l~raying? Our Father Our prayer begins with our, not my, "hello" to One who has loved us into life, the One we call upon as the "God of our life," "Giver of all good gifts," "Abba" (Jesus' love word). who art in heaven One so close, so totally present to us, and yet not in the world of our control--beyond the sphere of limitation and death. hallowed be thy name You are holy--totally other than us; you are God, and we are not. It is your world; we are your creation. Awe-filled, we say "Holy your name!" thy kingdom come For us and for the world, we want what you want. Why? because it is out of love you create and you act and you seek out. thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven May your desires become our desires and so let us act with you--as ones who love. give us this day our daily brei~d Daily let us be with you and work with you for all that sustains our life with Review for Religious and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us There are times we pay no heed to you; we become so caught up in our own way of finding life and in our own way of seeking love. Forgive us for receiving your love so awkwardly, sometimes so grudgingly. Help us to act like you in offering forgiveness to others who hurt us in any way. and lead us not into temptation You know our limits; please be gentle with us in your unquenchable love. Even more we ask you to be strong within us as together we face the things that might make us less than the human persons you call us to be. but deliver us from evil We know that you are always a saving God, and we stand always in your presence as ones who need saving--so we believe, so we trust, so we love. Moved by Christ's Spirit, our praying may take shape in any and all of these reflections of Jesus' way of teaching us to pray. So we pray in Jesus' name. There are some changes within the Review for Religious staffing that I would like all of you, our readers, to know about. Miss Jean Read is retiring after serving some twenty-three years after her first "retirement" from a variety of Jesuit works. Sister Regina Siegfried ASC is returning to full-time teaching and student counseling after six years on our editorial staff. We remain grate-ful for their lasting contributions. We welcome Sister Clare Boehmer ASC to the editorial staff, who assumes special care for the Reviews department. David L. Fleming sJ P.S. To honor Jean Read, who has shouldered a major respon-sibility for the publishing of all the books in the Best of the Review series, we are publishing a new book, Life through a Poet's Eyes, The Best of the Review - 6. See the insert page at the end of this issue. L___2,4.1__ JAMES FITZ U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery: A Seldom Told Story feature For religious of the United States, actions for social jus-tice and human transformation have become a signifi-cant aspect of our mission since the promulgation of Gaudium et spes at the conclusion of the Second Vatican Council. "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and anxi-eties of the people of- this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and the hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ" (§1). The (all to social justice and human transforma-tion was notably addressed to religious in a 1981 docu-ment from the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (SCRIS) titled "Religious and Human Advancement" (Le scelte evangdiche). l This call was reaf-firmed most recently by the Synod on Consecrated Life in 1994 and the postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (see §82) in 1996. In June 1997 Representative Tony Hall, Democrat from Dayton, Ohio, and a bipartisan group of eleven members of the United States House of Representatives introduced a one-sentence resolution that the U.S. Congress apologize to African Americans, "whose ances-tors suffered as slaves under the Constitution and laws of the United States until 1865:."2 Thi~ resolution, a James Fitz SM returns to our pages after a busy twelve-year absence. His address is Office of Campus Ministry; University of Dayton; 300 College Park; Dayton, Ohio 45469. Review for Religious response to President Clinton's initiative to heal racial division in this country, began a national debate over whether a national ~apol-ogy for slavery is necessary or useful. The recent movie Amistad has heightened awareness of this issue. In this article I examine this significant 19th-century issue of social justice and human transformation, the story of slavery, and how religious in the U.S.A. were involved in and responded to this critical issue in our American social history. This story is sel-dom told. Hardly one of the glorious moments in the history of American religious life, this story can give us religious a perspec-tive and context for understanding present-day events and can teach us multiple ways of bringing our Christian commitment and tradition to contemporary issues. Also, as history has a way of doing, it witnesses to "development of doctrine," with implica-tions for new issues facing the church today. History challenges its students to remember so they will not repeat mistakes of the past. As Elie Wiesel (Jewish scholar, sur-vivor of the Holocaust, and Nobel Prize winner) has pointed out many times, remembering is important. From remembering and pondering the American practice and eventual proscription of slav-ery, what can we religious learn? In the history of the United States, the Civil War (1861-1865) was a profound trial and test of liberty and equality. As President Abraham Lincoln said at Gettysburg, the "nation was "engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so con-ceived and so dedicated, can long endure." This struggle split the country. Among the various causes of the war, the different approaches to slavery in the North and the South were clearly one, and the abolition of slavery was one of the social transfor-mations that resulted from the war. This article examines how religious in the United States responded to the "peculiar institution" of slavery and to its trans-formation. 3 First, how did the overall U.S. Catholic Church respond to slavery? Second, what was the involvement of religious with slaves and with ministry to slaves? Third, what was the atti-tude of religious toward slaves and the institution of slavery? Lastly, what tentative conclusions can be drawn fo~ religious living in today's world? Besides some primary ~ources, there are significant studies (by Jesuits and Vincentians, for example) on the involvement of their particular religious orders with slavery.4 Many religious commu- July-August 1999 Fitz ¯ U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery nities either have not written or are in the process of writing or rewriting histories of their foundations in this country. Once com-pleted, these congregational histories will be valuable in nuanc-ing any conclusions drawn from the information now available. A thorough study of the archives of religious orders and congrega-tions throughout the country could reveal some significant details and interesting historical anecdotes to complete the picture. The information already available, however, is enough for an overview of the response of U.S. religious to slavery. Attitude toward Slavery in the Catholic Church of the United States I suspect that for most American religious of the 20th cen-tury, the ownership of sla~es by their forebears in religion is dis-turbing. For religious formed since Vatican Council II, this fact might seem incomprehensible. That council places slavery among the crimes against the dignity of the human person and calls the church to work to eliminate all forms of slavery: The varieties of crime are numerous:., all offenses against human dignity, such as subhuman living conditions, arbi-trary imprisonment, deportation, slavery, prostitution, the selling of women and children, degrading working condi-tions where people are treated as mere tools for profit rathe.r than free and responsible persons: all these and the like are criminal; they poison civilization; and they debase the per-petrators more than the victims and militate against the honor of the creator . Human institutions, both private and public, must labor to minister to the dignity and purpose of the human person. At the same time let them put up a stubborn fight against any kind of slavery, whether social or political, and safeguard the basic rights of the human person under every political system. (GS §§27, 29) In the Catholic Church of the early 19th century, no formal and absolute condemnation of slavery as an institution existed. Although recognizing abuses in the system, the ch~arch did not see slavery as a moral evil in itself, but as a result of original sin, Christians found no condemnation of slavery in the Scriptures or in the writings of early church theologians. "From Genesis to Philemon one could find no condemnation of the practice. Jesus did not utter one word of censure against slavery even though it was in full existence-in,his day. St. Paul, who claimed to have met Review for Religious the resurrected Christ, did nothing to abolish it--in fact, he did just the opposite when he said, 'Slaves, be obedient to your masters.'" Although slavery per se was not condemned, Pope Pius II in 1482 and Pope Urban viii in 1639 had condemned the slave trade. Pope Benedict XlV condemned the continued enslavement of native peoples in 1741.5 By the end of the 18th century, abolition movements began in various countries and in some of the states of the United States. In 1839 Pope Gregory Xvi issued an apostolic letter again calling for the elimination of the African slave trade.6 Voices opposing slavery began to arise among Catholics in European countries.7 Catholics in the United States, how-ever, did not take a lead in the aboli-tionist movement. Of the few significant Catholic voices, the most prominent came from outside the United States--the Irish leader Daniel O'Connell. His voice did not, however, receive a warm welcome in the United States) Catholic leaders consistently tended to identify the abolitionists with anti-Catholic and In the Catholic Church of the early 19th century, no formal and absolute condemnation of slavery as an institution existed. nativist sentiments. The Know-Nothing party platform of 1855, which combined anti-slavery, nativist, and anti-Catholic concerns, did nothing to win Catholic converts to the antislavery movement.9 Catholics leaders tended to avoid the slavery issue, which divided the nation. In their 1859 provincial council meeting in Baltimore, the bishops of the United States avoided taking a stand on the issues. Although Catholic leaders admitted that human bondage was not an ideal system, they differed on the gravity of the evil and the practicality of proposals to end the system. The only element upon which they agreed was that the principles and methods of the abolitionists were a threat to the safety of the country2° At time of the Civil War, northern church leaders generally supported the position of the union, and southern church leaders generally supported the confederacy. In 1862 Orestes Brownson, a prominent American Catholic layman and thinker, wrote that in the mind of Catholics the preservation of the union took prece-dence over the abolition of slavery. As a northerner he wrote that it was his impression that the majority of Catholics opposed the July-August 1999 Fit~ * U.S. C~tbolic Religious and Slavery abolitionists, but were neither in favor of slavery nor opposed to gradual emancipation. At the time he himself supported emanci-pation as a political and military necessity.1~ In his manual of moral theology written in the early 1840s, Francis Patrick Kenrick, bishop of Philadelphia and later archbishop of Baltimore, regretted the institution of slavery as it was practiced in the United States, but generally acquiesced in the prevailing conditions in the country. Although especially concerned about the restrictions on the edu-cation of slaves and on the slaves' freedom to practice religion, he nevertheless opposed violation of laws controlling slavery. He encouraged slaves to be obedient and masters to be just and kind. Though he considered the original seizure of slaves to be immoral, he argued that the descendants of those who originally purchased the slaves should not be held accountable.~2 Kenrick represented Catholic opinion in the United States, which generally supported the status quo. Those Catholics who saw slavery as an evil were generally for gradual, not forced, emancipation. Southern Catholic Church leaders defended slavery, although some, like Bishop Augustin Verot of St. Augustine, Florida, also pointed out that many southern masters had abused slaves, and that the war might be God's punishment for this. Among the abuses Verot listed were masters separating families, masters taking advan-tage of female slaves, and masters providing neither religious instruction nor proper clothing, food, and dwellings for slaves.~3 Like many of their fellow Americans, many Catholics also had racist attitudes toward the slaves. Although Catholics recognized slaves as human persons, they did not necessarily accept them as equals. Reflecting this belief, Orestes Brownson could write, "We recognize in the Negro a man, and assert for him in their plenitude the natural rights of man, but we do not believe him the equal of the white man, and we would not give him in society with white men equality of respect to those rights derived not immediately from manhood, but mediately from political and civil society, and in this we express, we apprehend, the general sentiment of the Catholic population of this country." 14 Religious Involvement with Slaves In his first report to the prefect of the Congregation de Propaganda Fide, Father John Carroll, superior of the priests in the missions of Maryland (and later the first American bishop), sent the Review for Religious statistics concerning Catholics in the United States. African slaves were a significant part of the Catholic Church in Maryland, about twenty percent of the Catholic population.~s Catholics owned most of these slaves. In the period before the Civil War, some American religious, like their American compatriots and fellow Catholics, owned slaves, Most early American Catholics lived in Maryland and Kentucky, states that permitted slavery. The owning of slaves was an adaptation religious made to living in America. Records document that both men and women religious owned slaves. The Jesuits were major slave owners. Lord Baltimore had granted them extensive lands. They owned four large estates in Maryland in Prince Georges, Charles, and St. Mary's counties and two smaller plan-tations on the Eastern Shore. They also had two farms in eastern Pennsylvania. At first they relied upon indentured servants, a practice they never completely aban-doned. "As this form of labor became increasingly difficult to secure and retain in Maryland, the Jesuit missionaries, like their secular fellow planters, turned to slave labor." The first explicit reference to slaves is from 1711, although they probably had slaves before then. By 1765 they had 192 slaves.~6 The Jesuits also owned slaves in the Louisiana Territory, in both St. Louis and New Orleans27 Two congregations of men came to America to establish sem-inaries: the Sulpicians and the Vincentians (Congregation of the Mission). Because the Sulpicians were not large landowners, they did not own 'a large number of slaves. Individual Sulpicians in Emmitsburg and Louisville (Bardstown) owned slaves28 At the invitation of William DuBourg, apostolic administrator of the Louisiana territory, the Vincentians staffed St. Mary's Seminary in Perry County, Missouri, beginning in 1818. DuBourg provided them slaves. The first Vincentian superior of the American mission, Father Felix DeAndreis, hesitated to accept them, but did so because there were no lay brothers who could do the manual labor. In fact, DeAndreis considered the possibility of.enlisting free blacks and mulattoes into the Vincentian community, but discarded the idea because he was convinced, probably rightly at the time, that no white men would enter the community. The introduction of slaves was considered a necessary adaptation to the American sit- The owning of slaves was an adaptation religious made to living in America. Jtdy-August 1999 Fitz ¯ U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery uation. A'major concern of the Vincentian superiors in Rome was that a woman was admitted to the kitchen and thus within the com-munity living quarters. There was no comment about the fact that she was a slave. In 1830 the seminary had twenty-seven slaves; this appears to be the highest number at any one time.~9 Of the first eight permanent communities of women religious founded within the original boundaries of the United States, six had Slaves: three in Maryland (the Carmelites of Port Tobacco, the Visitation Sisters of Georgetown, the Sisters of Charity of Emmitsburg) and three in Kentucky (the Sisters of Loretto, the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, and 'the Dominican Sisters of St. Catherine). The annals and traditions of these six communities refer to "Negro" or "colored" servants" brought by some women as part of their down. For example, at the Carmelite convent, where the slaves numbered thirty by 1829, they lived "comfort-ably" outside the cloister and did the farm work.2° Of the first eight congregations, the Oblate Sisters of Divine Providence (an order of African American religious in Baltimore) and the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy (Charleston, South Carolina) were the two con-gregations that did not have slaves. The other major grouping of religious during the time of slav-ery were those who came to the Louisiana Territory, which became part of the United States in 1803. Most of these religious were French-speaking congregations, although Spanish religious served during the time of Spanish control. In the Louisiana Territory, the Capuchins owned slaves to work their plantations. Mready mentioned was the Jesuit ownership of slaves in the territory.2! Among the communities of women, French-speaking Ursulines were the first to come to New Orleans in 1727. They had slaves provided as part of their contract with the Company of the Indies.22 Although at first reluctant to purchase a slave, Mother Hyacinth, of the Daughters of the Cross (Cocoville, Louisiana), accepted the recommendation of the bishop and purchased a slave.23 The Madames (Religious) of the Sacred Heart had slaves at Grand Coteau, Louisiana, and in Missouri.24 There is correspondence from St. Philippine Duchesne requesting a slave from the Vincentians. The Sisters of Loretto of Bethlehem convent across the road from the Vincentians in Perry County, Missouri, also owned slaves.25 The owning of slaves led consequently to the involvement of religious in the purchase and sale of slaves. For the Sisters of Review for Religious Charity of Nazareth, the purchase of slaves in 1840 was an eco-nomic decision: "The Council decided it was better to buy ser-vants for the farm, and so forth, than pay so much for hire and then often get bad ones."26 When the Carmelites left Charles County for Baltimore in 1831, the disposal of their slaves was one of their difficulties. According to the Carmelite centennial histo-rian, the slaves became a source of anxiety because the sisters did not have the resources to grant them their freedom, so they gave them permission to seek their own masters. The sisters received whatever price the new master gave. Older slaves were left to the care of competent persons, and the sisters provided for their neces-sities until their deaths.27 The involvement in the sale of slaves by the Vincentians is documented in the previously mentioned study. The ownership of slaves led the Vincentians to become involved in the sale and purchase of slaves. There was an attempt t9 be faithful to church law. In a letter addressed to the Vincentian general in 1840, the American provincial, Father John Timon, explained that the"pur-pose of the increased buying of slaves was to bring families together. The Vincentians slowly phased out slaveholding during the 1850s and 1860s. Although personally opposed to slavery, Timon justified the decision to sell the slaves in terms of economic and political rather than moral factors. Freeing the slaves was not considered.28 The sale of the Jesuit slaves in Maryland caused great con-troversy. Some Jesuits sought to free the slaves and, in the pro-cess, change the labor force running their farms from slave to free. When the Jesuits were restored in 1814, the civil corpora-tion made a resolution to this effect in that same year; it was, however, never carried out. The Jesuits became embroiled in a dispute with Ambrose Marechal, the new archbishop of Baltimore, who had initiated claims against the Jesuit estates, arguing that they were meant to support the entire church in Maryland, not just the Jesuits.29 Any sales were delayed until the dispute could be settled. By the 1830s the new group of younger Jesuits was becoming uncomfortable with the estates and their status as slave owners. By this time, however, the climate in the country had changed and the policy of deferred emancipation became more difficult to fol-low. Older Jesuits, mostly Europeans, supported keeping the estates. Younger Jesuits, mostly Americans, wanted to sell them July-Augl~St 1999 Fitz ¯ U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery and the slaves and concentrate on education. The older Jesuits argued that the slaves were a patrimony. Father Francis Dzierozynski wrote, "I consider the blacks under this respect only, that they are our sons, whose care and salvation have been entrusted to us by Divine Providence and who are always happy under our Fathers." For Dzierozynski and~others, the bond between the slaves and the Jesuits was not to be broken for finan-cial reasons. They argued that selling the slaves would lead to the slaves' physical and moral ruin and would give great scandal.3° In October 1836 the superior general approved the sale of the slaves with the condition that their religious needs must be met, families must not be separated (especially spouses), and the money must be invested for the support of Jesuits in training.31 In June, Father Thomas Mulledy, the provincial, sold the slaves to Henry Johnson of Louisiana. The main group of the slaves was sent to Louisiana in November 1838. Mulledy was denounced to the supe-rior general because some of the slave families were separated, and Mulledy was subsequently replaced. The change to tenant farming ended the Jesuit history as slaveholders. Clearly the young Jesuits who advocated sale of the slaves perceived correctly that owning slaves was scandalous. Their manner of handling the sale clearly violated the principles of the church concerning the sale and treatment of slaves, and they did not provide for their even-tual emancipation. This too wa~ a scandal. ~ In general, how did religious treat their slaves? In his study on American Catholics and slavery, Kenneth Zanca notes "that reli-gious orders treated their slaves more humanely than other slave holders and generally saw to their religious education--even in the defiance of state laws. To be a 'priest's slave' or a 'nun's slave' was considered a fortunate circumstance for a slave.''32 Although the slaves of religious may have been treated more humanely than other, slaves, problems persisted. Father Adam Marshall, the Jesuit charged with overseeing the plantations for the corporation, described the dwellings for the slaves as "almost universally unfit for human beings to live in." When possible, Jesuit brothers were given charge of the farms. Father .Peter Kenney, an Irish Jesuit, sent by the Jesuit superior general as a special visitor to evaluate the American mission in 1819, took exception to the arbitrary treatment of the slaves by the brothers. He found general disaffection among the slaves and particular abuses (for example, whipping pregnant women). He also found the Review for Religious behavior of the slaves scandalous and their practice of religion vir-tually nonexistent. Because of the poor financial condition of the Jesuits in general in the early 1820s, the living conditions of the slaves on most of the plantations were less than adequate. However, with new management the material conditions of the slaves seemed to improve by the 1830s. At St. Inigoes, the most thriving of the plantations, Father Joseph Carberry instituted a system of incentives for the slaves, which led to their economic improvement. Concerning their moral and spiritual condition, despite catech-esis and required attendance at Mass, Kenney found the slaves' lives to be a "moral wasteland and scandalous reproach to the Society" of Jesus. "Some Jesuits attributed the moral anarchy to the Society's own failure to discipline the slaves." 3 3 Some accounts about slaves owned by religious report a general affection by the slaves for their religious owners. At St. Catherine, Kentucky, this is how the ~rs~a~e laws. relationship between the Dominican sis-ters and their slaves is reported.34 When the sisters wanted to build a new chapel, some of the slaves who had come to the sisters as part of a dowry voluntarily offered to do without new clothes for a year so that the money might be donated to the chapel fund. Some slaves gave their earnings toward the project. Even after emancipation, some slaves remained with the sisters until their deaths.3s A report about the slaves owned by the Religious of the Sacred Heart indicates that they were "happy as possible in their snug little cabins" and were converted to the Catholic faith and the "love of the Sacred Heart that was the reason for Grand Coteau's existence.''36 An historian of the earlier Jesuit mission in the United States claims that dur-ing the Revolutionary War the slaves of the Jesuits could have abandoned the Jesuit plantations when British ships raided the plantations. The priests' slaves, unlike neighboring slaves, did not do so. The historian takes this as a sign of the slaves' devotion to their masters.37 There are, however, no accounts from the slaves themselves to confirm these impressions. Religious orders treated their slaves more humanely than other slave holders and generally saw to their religious education-- even in the defiance Ju~-dugltst 1999 Fitz * U.S. Catholic Religious and Slaver~ Ministry by Religious to Slaves Before the Civil War the Catholic Church in the South was small, poor, and understaffed. "Catholicism, in short, could not ade-quately minister to either the slave or the free blacks in the South ([whether] Catholic or non-Catholic), nor could Catholicism prac-tically enforce its own teaching on the proper treatment of slaves."3s The church was hesitant and ambivalent in most of its efforts to work among African Americans, whether slave or free.39 John Carroll was concerned about "a general lack of care in instructing their children and especially the Negro slaves in their religion.''4° Although local parish records indicate a high rate of baptisms among slaves throughout the antebellum period, "there is little evidence of high rates of slave identification with Catholicism in terms of attendance at Mass, marriage in the church, or other signs of Catholic activity and devotion.''4~ Despite this general lack of ade, quate ministry, religious provided some ministry to slaves. Most commonly, it was religious-order priests who provided for the slaves the celebration of the Sunday and holy day Eucharists and the celebration of baptism and marriage. The Vincentians and Capuchins ministered to slaves on the plantations in the Louisiana Territory.42 As noted earlier, the Jesuits provided sacramental min-istry for their slaves, both in Louisiana and Maryland, and for the slaves of Catholic masters in Maryland.43 A Jesuit mission band giving revivals on southern Maryland farms in the Jubilee Year 1851 also served slaves.44 Some religious priests tried to protect slaves from abuse. In 1791, for example, Capuchin Father Joaquin de Portillo ordered slaves to stop working on a holy day of obligation and reported the incident to the Louisiana Eovernor because work on a holy day was a violation of the slave code in the colony.~s In general, religious catechized their slaves and sometimes provided them basic education. As mentioned earlier, the Jesuits taught catechism to their slaves. Religious women catechized and educated black slaves, especially children.In a letter of 1856, Mother Hyacinth indicates that they educated their slave named Simon.46 There is evidence that the Visitation Sisters educated free black girls, and this tradition may have "its origins in the instruction given to their slaves.''47 Bishop England founded the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy in Charleston, South Carolina, for the purpose of establishing a school for "free colored girls, and to give religious instruction to female slaves.''~s A letter of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton provides evidence of catechetical work among African American children.49 The Daughters of Charity organized classes to teach religion to their slaves,s° The Ursulines in New Orleans also catechized slaves,s| Two religious orders of African American women were founded to educate and catechize African American children. "To work for the Christian education of colored children," four Haitian refugees founded the Oblate Sisters of Divine Providence, "a Religious Society of virgins and widows of color." They provided education for African American children who had no other possi-bilities. Some children they educated may have been slave chil-dren, although that is not clear from the sources,s2 Supported at first by the Sulpicians in the person of Father James Joubert and later by the Redemptorists under the direction of Father Thaddeus Anwander, who was influenced by Father John Neumann, the sis-ters went about their mission under difficult circumstances includ-ing years of neglect and hardship. They continued a school in Baltimore that several of the sisters had started before ~their orga-nization as a religious congregation in 1829. The other religious community of African American sisters, the Sisters of the Holy Family, was founded in New Orleans for the purpose of serving and educating the poor. Before she founded the community, Henriette DeLille had entered into the work of teaching religion to slaves,s3 Although much of their educational work and service ministry was with poor free African Americans, they also did catechetical work among the slaves,s4 Care of slaves was also part of the outreach ministry of women religious. The Sisters of the Holy Family, prompted by the wretched condition of old, abandoned slaves; opened a home for the aged.ss The Hotel Dieu, run by the Daughters of Charity in New Orleans, had a slave department that had special rates and "superior advantages" for members of this class,s6 Attitude of Religious toward the Institution of Slavery and toward Slaves Slavery The attitude of religious in the United States toward slavery tended to mirror the attitude of United States Catholics in general. No religious and no Catholic occupied the' forefront of the aboli-tionist movement. ~uly-August 1999 Fitz ¯ U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery There are, however, records of individual religious who were opposed to slavery. A Sulpician, Father Louis-Regis Deluol, and a Vincentian, Father John Timon, are two examples. In a letter to Charles Carroll's granddaughter, Deluol wrote that his feelings were most violently opposed to slavery. In the same letter, though, he indicated that he did not see slavery as opposed to divine or ecclesiastical law.57 Timon, the Vincentian superior of the American mission who was responsible for ending Vincentian involvement in slavery, accepted the bishopric of Buffalo, New York, because he feared he might be named coadjutor of Bardstown. Timon "would have intensely disliked that appointment because Negro slavery obtains in the state of Kentucky."58 Opposition to slavery did not, in general, lead religious to participate in the abolitionist move-ment or to the manumission of slaves. There were religious who supported slavery. Father John Ryder SJ, of Georgetown University, addressing an audience in Richmond in 183 5, defended slavery "as a positive benefit to the slav.e, while arguing that abolitionism was incompatible with Catholicism."59 One of the most prominent Catholic figures of the 19th cen-tury was Isaac Thomas Hecker, a convert to Roman Catholicism, a religious, and the founder of the Paulists. Oversimplifying, one can say that Hecker saw as his task the adaptation of the Roman Catholic Church to America, "proving to Catholics that their coun-try was not Protestant at its ideological roots, .and to Protestants that Catholics were not inherendy anti-democratic." Like his men-tor Orestes Brownson, Hecker saw Roman Catholic natural-law theory as a stronger grounding for democracy than Protestantism or Lockean liberalism. Hecker's dream of America's conversion to Catholicism never materialized.6° At the time of the Civil War, Hecker was laying the founda-tions of the Paulist community. In his writings and letters he hardly mentions the raging political issues of slavery and expansion.6~ In a sermon written in April 1861 b~t apparently never delivered, Hecker was convinced that the "root of the problem between the states was a lack of common religion.62 In a series of articles before the war, Hecker had written that the Catholic Church was friend of both master and slave. He had cohtrasted the Catholic Church, which supported union and reconciliation, with the fanatic and divisive Protestant abolitionists. I-Iecker saw the war as a perfect example of how the Catholic Church would have prevented hos- Review for Religious tility. "Slavery, under the benign influence of Catholic principles and legislation, voluntarily and insensibly disappears, just as serf-dom was made to give way to modern society without violence or bloodshed." Hecker hoped that the Civil War would lead the coun-try to see the value of Catholicism.63 On the issue of slavery itself, Hecker held views conventional for a Roman Catholic of his day. There is evidence of his views in correspondence with Jane Sedgwick, a convert and friend in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, in the spring of 1861. Hecker's letter to Sedgwick no longer exists, but her response indicates her dis-agreement with his defense of servitude under certain conditions. We have no record of Hecker's response to her questions and argu-ments. "Once the war came, Hecker told friends he had always been opposed to slavery; he even told Bishop Lynch of Charleston that he regarded the war as a punishment of the South for its evils.''64 One of his biographers, David O'Brien, quotes a passage from a letter of September 1861 : The sentiment of loyal Americans whether Catholic or not is getting always [more] and more strong and united every day against slavery and without any change of principle. We have always taken the ground that it is an evil and a disgrace which might be tolerated for a time, but ought to be grad-ually abolished. The Constitutional rights of the states for-bade, however, any direct meddling and made it our duty to protect the institution of slavery against unjust aggression. Now, however, since slavery is so destructive of national prosperity, and the South by its rebellion has forfeited all claim to the forbearance of the North, we think the time will soon come to expel slavery from our entire country.65 Slaves Attitudes toward slaves among religious are similar to those held by other white Catholic Americans. Although some English Protestants held the view that Negroes were incapable of baptism because they were not strictly human, Catholics did baptize slaves when the occasion presented itself, especially when the slaves were their own.6. Father George Hunter, a Jesuit, reminded masters of their duty to treat slaves with charity. "As they are members of Jesus Christ, redeemed by his precious blood, they are to be dealt with in a charitable, Christian, paternal manner; which is at the same time a great means to bring them to do their duty to God, and therefore to gain their souls.".7 Although seen as human, slaves were often treated and described in condescending and paternal- July-August 1999 Fitz * U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery istic terms. The treatment of slaves as property (moving them from one place to another) manifests the failure of religious to treat slaves as fully human. The language of religious also por-trayed their condescending attitudes toward slaves. Father Joseph Mosley SJ, who came to Maryland at the time of the Jesuit sup-pression in 1773, wrote to his sister the following year: "They ['the Negroes'] are naturally inclined to thieving, lying, and much lechery. I believe want [poverty] makes them worse thieves and liars, and the innate heat .of the climate of Africa and their natu-ral temper of constitution gives them a bent to lechery.''6s Another Jesuit, Brother Mobberly, who managed St. Inigoes from 1806 to 1820, felt that a lack of discipline was the root of the slaves' prob-lems. He developed a racial theory of African subservience.69 Mobberly wrote in his diary: "The better a Negro is treated, the worse he becomes." With this attitude, there is little wonder that Mobberly was removed a month after the visit of Father Kenney in 1820.70 Against the background of slavery, Vincentian lay brothers felt and caused some difficulty within their congregation. "The broth-ers resented the implicit identification of their work with that of slaves and were increasingly reluctant to do certain types of labor, perhaps under the influence of American attitudes." Like many white laborers, the lay brothers disliked doing the kind of work slaves did, considering it degradation. Father Rosati, one of the Vincentian superiors, struggled with the duplicity he saw in the lay brothers: they did not want slaves, but refused to do the work that the slaves were hired or bought to do.71 Some religious felt compassion for the slaves, although this compassion did not always lead to action. Mother Theodore Guerin, who founded the Sisters of Providence of Saint Mary-of-the-Woods in Indiana, wrote the following in her journal about her trip to New Orleans: The most painful sight I saw in New Orleans was the selling of slaves. Every day in the streets at appointed places, Negroes and Negresses in holiday attire are exposed for this shameful traffic, like the meanest of animals at our fairs. This spectacle oppressed my heart. Lo! I said to myself, these Americans, so proud of their liberty, thus make game of the liberty of others. Poor Negroes! I would have wished to buy them all that I might say to them, "Go! Bless Providence. You are free." But such feelings must be concealed from the Louisianians, as this is a point on which they are very sensio tire.72 Review for Religious The Vincentian Father DeAndreis also felt compassion toward the slaves. In a letter of 1819 to the Vincentian community at Monte Citoria, he wrote: .With regard to the situation of the blacks and mulattoes, these are for the most part slaves, who are condemned to eat the bread of sorrow and to bear pondus diei et aestus [the burden of the day and the scorching heat (Mt 20:12)] and, what is worse, in their harsh condition to serve the passions of others and to be in the moral impossibility of knowing and practicing religion. They are commonly forbidden to contract marriage because of the loss that their masters would suffer as a result, something that exposes them to a thou-sand dangers. For the rest these natives of Africa are for the most part simple and disposed to profit by the labors that are undertaken for their salvation. They are moved at seeing a white priest interested in them since they are regarded as the offscouring and refuse of the human race. How many subjects of consolation do not these poor creatures offer me! They are instructed, they make their first communion, and then they frequent the sacraments.73 DeAndreis's writing flowed from personal experience. After arriving in St. Louis in 1818, he made the African Americans of the city an object of his special ministry. His friend Joseph Rosati, who became the first bishop of St. Louis, recollected that people were astonished at seeing a scholar applying himself to this min-istry with special ardor and dedication.74 Conclusion Several general trends can be drawn from this study of American religious and slavery. Like their fellow Catholics, some American religious owned and sold slaves and became entangled in the control and supervision of slaves. Although some commenta-tors indicate that, in general, religious treated their slaves better than .other slave masters, there are few slave witnesses to verify this perception. Religious provided sacramental ministry and edu-cation (mostly catechetical) to their slaves and to the slaves of other Catholic masters. Religious also provided limited social ser-vices to slaves. With regard to the institution of slavery, American religious mirrored American Catholics in general. They did not see slav-ery as intrinsically wrong. If they opposed slavery, they were for gradual emancipation. Although they saw slaves as human, slaves 3%dy-August 1999 Fitz ¯ U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery were often described in condescending and racist terms. Some compassion was shown, but this did not often lead to action or a desire to eliminate the institution. As an historical account, this article could end at this point. But should more be said? Is there anything we, as religious living near the end of the 20th century, might learn from our forebears in the faith as we grapple with social-justice and social-transformation issues in the world today? There are several important lessons. A first lesson might be a challenge for us as religious to exam-ine more critically our relationship to culture. As religious, we are called to be prophetic. Hopefully, our words, actions, and lives will perform at least two prophetic functions: criticize the existing sinful and unjust social consciousness and energize the world by embodying an alternative way to live that brings hope.7s This prophetic witness can be greatly compromised if we live com-pletely apart from the culture. Conversely, if we are so immersed in the culture that we do not see injustices, and in fact participate in them, our actions become a source of scandal. American reli-gious quickly adapted to the American experience of slavery. Was this an example of being too immersed in the culture to be truly prophetic to it? Were some religious so much outsiders (for exam-ple, Catholic, French extraction, unmarried women) that criticism was muted in order not too offend? The experience of slavery of American religious in the 19th century can challenge religious today to look at our present culture. Are there structures in which we are so immersed that we fail to see injustice present? Are there unjust structures that we are afraid to challenge because the chal-lenge might cost us personally or communally? Are we alert and attentive to the structures of culture that may need prophetic chal-lenge and a witness to :an alternative way? For international institutes, these same questions may be asked concerning new implantations in other cultures. What aspects of the new culture should be accepted as compatible with and expres~ sive of gospel values? What aspects are unjust and need to be opposed? As the first religious in America quickly adapted to the institution of slavery, are there aspects of other cultures to which we are easily adapting without critical thought? These are not easy questions, but they are important if we are to be faithful to our prophetic witness. Second, the slavery issue can be a lesson in listening to and evaluating the message of another. Catholics, including religious, Review for Religqous did not listen to the abolitionists because a significant group of abolitionists was anti-Catholic as well (though this was not true of all of them). Although abolitionists may have been wrong in their anti,Catholicism, they were prophetic in their respect for the dignity of African Americans. In our own day the truth may be proclaimed by someone with whom we have little in common or with whom we disagree on significant issues. Truth can come from anywhere, and we need to hear the truth whether it comes from friend or foe, compan-ion or opponent. Are we today open to the truth, from whatever source? Have we stopped listening to some group where the truth may be present, even in the midst of error? A third lesson concerns the development of doctrine in the history of the Catholic Church. In the area of social justice and trans-formation, there are significant examples of this development. The institution of slavery, once considered a moral way to treat individuals, is now considered immoral. Reflection over the years has helped the church come to a new understanding of the implications of the reign of God as Jesus proclaimed it. As the early church struggled with the issue of accepting Gentiles into the church, so American Christians of the 19th century grappled with the implications of the gospel in terms of slavery. Statements made by bishops over a hun-dred and fifty years ago have been reversed by bishops in our own day. What was once considered not intrinsically wrong is now con-sidered a crime against human dignity. This development of doc-trine, therefore, can be a source of hope as we grapple with new justice issues today. As we deal with right-to-life issues (think of abortion and capital punishment), dignity-of-women issues, and other such issues, what appears as a small glimmer of light (even a light from outside the church) may be the source of new insight and a new living of the reign of God in future generations. A call for change, for which there may be little'support now, may gain considerable support as time passes. Religious in the United States have been called by the church to commit themselves to social justice and social transformation. We have chosen to commit ourselves to these values. Although the story of American religious involvement in and response to Are there structures in which we are so immersed that we fail to see injustice present ? ~uly-August 1999 Fitz * U.S. Catholic Religious and Slavery the institution of slavery in this country is not one of the glorious moments in our history, we can hope that the experience of our forebears in dealing with this issue may bring light and insight to our present-day struggle to discern the call of the Spirit in our world. Notes ~ I am using Austin Flannery's translation of the tide of this document, which has elsewhere been called "Religious and Human Promotion." The document was issued by the congregation in January 1981. See Origins 10, no. 34 (5 February 1981): 529-541. 2 House Concurrent Resolution 96, Congressional Record, 1997, H3890-3891. 3 A term I have borrowed from Kenneth M. Stamp, The Peculiar Institution: Slavery in the Ante-Bellum South (New York: Vintage Books, 1956). 4 R. Emmett Curran, "'Splendid Poverty': Jesuit Slaveholding in Maryland, 1805-1838," in Randall M. Miller and John L. Wakelyn, eds., Catholics in the Old South: Essays on Church and Culture (Macon, Georgia: Mercer University Press, 1983); Stafford Poole CM and Douglas J. Slawson CM, Church and Slave in Perry Country, Missouri, 1818-1865 (Lewistown, New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1986). s Kenneth J. Zanca, ed., Amen'can Catholics and Slavery, 1789-1866: An Anthology of Primary Documents (Latham, Maryland: University Press of America, 1994), pp. xxxi and 37-39. 6 Madeleine Hooke Rice, American Catholic Opinion in the Slavery Controversy (Gloucester: Peter Smith, 1964), p. 21. 7 John Francis Maxwell, Slavery and the Catholic Church: The History of Catholic Teaching concerning the Moral Legitimacy of the Institution of Slavery (London: Barry Rose Publishers, 1975), pp. 101-110. 8 David J. O'Brien, Public Catholicism, 2nd ed. (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1996), p. 65. See also Rice, American Catholic Opinion, pp. 80-85. 90'Brien, Public Catholicism, p. 53. ,0 Rice, American Catholic Opinion, p. 85. ii Zanca, American Catholics, pp. 134-139. This is an article from Brownson 's Quarterly Review. 12 Zanca, American Catholics, p. 200. See also Joseph D. Brokhage, Francis Patrick Kenrick's Opinion on Slavery (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1955), pp. 122-124. 13 Zanca, American Catholics, pp. 201-209. This is a sermon preached by Verot in 1861. ~ Zanca, American Catholics, p. 136. ts Cyprian Davis, The History of Black Catholics in the United States (New York: Crossroad, 1990), p. 35. Review for Religious ,6 Curran, "Splendid Poverty," p. 126. 17 Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, pp. 180-181. ~8 Christopher J. Kauffmar~, Tradition and Transformation in Catholic Culture: The Priests of Saint Sulpice in the United States from 1791 to the Present (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1988), p. 146. See also Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, p. 143. 19 Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, pp. 144-158 and 162. 20 Barbara Misner, Highly Respectable and Accomplished Ladies: Catholic Women Religious in America, 1790-18~0, Vol. 22 of The Heritage of American Catholicism, ed. Timothy Walch (New York: Garland Publishing, 1988), pp. 75 and 76. See also Mary Ewens OP, "The Role of the Nun in Nineteenth-Century America: Variations on the International Theme" (Doctoral diss., University of Minnesota, 1971), p. 38. 2t Roger Baudier, The Catholic Church in Louisiana (New Orleans, 1939), pp. 89, 108-109, 115-116, 131-132,139, 202. 22 Sister Frances Jerome Woods, "Congregations of Religious Women in the Old South," in Catholics in the Old South: Essays on Church and Culture, ed. Randall M. Miller and Jon L. Wakelyn (Macon, Georgia: Mercer University Press, 1983), p. 112. 23 Woods, "Congregations,,' p. 113. See also Ewens, "Role of the Nun," p. 22. 24 Woods, "Congregations," p. 114. See also Ewens, p. 64, and Davis, History, p. 39. 2s Poole and Slawson, Church andSlave, pp. 171 and 172. 26Misner, Highly Respectable, p. 82, quoting from an archival record. 27Misner, Highly Respectable, p. 77. 28Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, pp. 186-189. 29Curran, "Splendid Poverty," pp. 134-135. 30Curran, "Splendid Poverty," pp. 138, 140, 141. ~ Curran, "Splendid Poverty," p. 142. 32 Zanca, American Catholics, p. 111. ~3 Curran, "Splendid Poverty," pp. 129, 130, 132. 34 V~Zoods, "Congregations," p. 114. ~5 Misner, Highly Respectable, p. 84, and Woods, "Congregations," p. 114. The two authors seem to be using a common source, Commemorative booklet for American Bicentennial (St. Catherine, 1976). 36 Woods, "Congregations," p. 114, quoting from Margaret Williams, Second Sowing: The Life of Mary Aloysia Hardey (New York, 1942), p. 103. 37 Thomas Hughes SJ, History of the Society of ffesus in North America, Colonial and Federak Text, From 164Y till 1773, Vol. 2 (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1917), p. 565. ~8 Michael McNally, "A Minority of a Minority: The Witness of Black July-August 1999 Fitz ¯ U.S. Catholic Religious ~nd Slavery Women Religious in the Antebellum South," Review for Religious 40, no. 2 (March 1981): 261. 39 Margaret Susan Thompson, "Philemon's Dilemma: Nuns and the Black Community in Nineteenth-Century America: Some Findings," in The American Catholic Religious Life: Selected Historical Essays, ed. Joseph M. White (New York: Garland Publishing, 1988), p. 83. 40 John Carroll, "The First American Report to Propaganda on Catholicism in the United States, March 1, 1785," in Documents of American Catholic History, Vol. 1, 1493 to 186~, ed. John Tracy Ellis (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1987), p. 149. 4~ Randall M. Miller, "The Failed Mission: The Catholic Church and Black Catholics in the Old South," in Miller and Wakelyn, Catholics in the Old South, p. 152. 42 Baudier, Catholic Church, pp. 76-77. 43 Baudier, Catholic Church, pp. 139, 161. The Capuchins provided ministry to slaves in Louisiana. A dispute arouse between the Jesuits and the Capuchins over whether the Jesuits, who were assigned to the Indian missions, had jurisdiction and could minister to their own slaves (see Baudier, pp. 115-116). ~4 Edward E Beckett SJ, "Listening to Our History: Inculturation and Jesuit Slaveholding," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 28, no. 5 (November 1996): 15. 4s Baudier, p. 213. 4~ Woods, "Congregations," p. 113. 47 Misner, Highly Respectable, p. 203 48 Misner, Highly Respectable, pp. 204-205. 49 Zanca, American Catholics, p. 143. ' 50 Woods, "Congregations," p. 112. s~ Baudier, Catholic Church, p. 183. 52 Sister M. Reginald Gerdes OSP, "To Educate and Evangelize: Black Catholic Schools of the Oblate Sisters of Providence (1828-1880)," U.S. Catholic Historian 7, nos. 2 and 3 (Spring/Summer 1988): 183-199. s3 Woods, "Congregations," p. 115. 54 Davis, History, pp. 105-I10. See also Woods, "Congregations," p. 116, and Baudier, Catholic Church, p. 397. 55 McNally, "Minority," p. 264. ~6 Woods, "Congregations," p. 113, and Baudier, p. 396. Baudier is quoting from the silver-jubilee booklet of the Hotel Dieu School of Nursing in 1927. 57Kauffman, Tradition and Transfomnation, p. 146. 58 Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, p. 179. 59 Beckett, "Listening to Our History," p. 45, fn. 186. 60 Edward J. Langlois, "Isaac Hecker's Political Thought," in Hecker Review for Religions Studies: Essays on the Thought of Isaac Hecker, ed. John Farina (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), pp. 51 and 66. 6, David J. O'Brien, Isaac Hecker: An American Catholic (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 191. 62 Langlois, "Isaac Hecker's Political Thought," p. 68. See also p. 85, fn. 36. 63 Hecker's sermon, quoted in Langlois, p. 69. 64 O'Brien, lsaac Hecker, p. 192. 6s O'Brien, Isaac Hecko; p. 192. 66Zanca, American Catholics, p. 113 67Hughes,.History, Vol. 2, p. 559. 68Zanca, American Catholics, pp. 1 I3-114. 69Beckett, "Listening to Our History," p. 2 I. 70Curran, "Splendid Poverty," p. 133. 7~ Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, pp. 156-157. 72 Zanca, American Catholics, p. 117. 73Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, pp. 145-146. ~4 Poole and Slawson, Church and Slave, p. 147. 75 For further development of the concept of religious life as acted prophecy, see my article "Religious Life as~Acted Prophecy," Review for Religious 41, no. 6 (November-December 1982): 923-927. I Will I will survive even though I have doubts and fears, I will survive when my eyes are full of tears, I will go on with faith in God's hands I will trust my Jesus for I know he understands. Janice Barham July-August 1999 RITA E. GOLDMAN Edith Stein: St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross OCD witness We might begin by asking ourselves, who is Edith Stein? First and foremost, she is a woman, a Jewish woman, student, nurse, scholar/philosopher, teacher, Carmelite nun, and confessor/martyr saint. She was inscribed in the calendar of saints on 11 October 1998, having been beatified at Cologne, Germany, on 1 May 1987. On the last few pages of her work On the Problem of Empathy, she has left us a short biographic sketch. She writes: "I, Edith Stein, was born on 12 October 1891 in Breslau, the daughter of the deceased merchant Siegfried Stein and his wife, Auguste, n~e Courant. I am a Prussian citizen and Jewish." She tells us that, in the year she was born, 12 October was the greatest Jewish holy day, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Her mother, a devout Jew, always considered this a great blessing, having her last child on the Day of Atonement. Edith was the youngest of eleven children, of whom only seven sur-vived. Her mother was widowed twenty-one months after Edith was born. She tells of where she went to school and then of beginning the study of philosophy, to be interrupted in 1916 when she served with the Red Cross during the Rita E. Goldman wrote "Frances Cabrini: A Woman for Today" for our November-December 1996 issue, Her address is 3041 North Country Club Road, Apartment 220; Tucson, Arizona 85716. Revie~v for Religious First World War. After the war she became a teacher at a girls' secondary school in Breslau. Later she began work on her doc-torate in phenomenology, becoming an assistant to Edmund Husserl. In 1917 she was asked by the widow of her former teacher Adolf Reinach, who had died at the front, to help put her hus-band's papers in order. Frau Reinach was a devout Christian; and it was from her influence that Edith began to move toward the Christian faith. In the summer of 1921 she read the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila, the great Carmelite mystic of the 16th cen-tury. "This," she concluded, "is the truth." She was baptized on New Year's Day 1922. After her baptism Edith spent the next eight years teaching German and literature at St. Magdalena's, a teacher training insti-tute run by the Dominican Sisters at Speyer. During this time she continued her philosophic interests, writing a two-volume study of the philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas. She tried to obtain a pro-fessorship at Freiburg, but was refused because she was a woman. Though she was later to be barred from publishing and lecturing because of being Jewish, at this time she traveled extensively to give lectures in places as varied as Munich, Vienna, Prague, Juvisy (near Paris), and Zurich. In 1932 she accepted a teaching post at the German Institute for Scientific Pedagogy in MOnster. The following year she was denied her lectureship under a Nazi decree aimed at Jews. In October 1933, on the Feast of St. Teresa of Avila, Edith entered the Carmel at Cologne. When the situation in Germany became very bad for Jews, Edith was transferred to the Carmel at Echt, in Holland. But this move did not save her, and in August 1942 she and her sister Rosa were arrested and deported. She died at Auschwitz, on or near 9 August 1942. What I have said above is a general outline of Edith Stein's life, but I think we are more concerned with her thought, what led her to become a Catholic, what called her to become a Carmelite nun, than with the externals of her life. At the age of fifteen, Edith decided she did not believe in God. When she was twenty-four, during her study of phenomenology, a flicker of faith began to catch her ey.e. Then came her contact with Frau Reinach and her reading of the life of St. Teresa of Avila. In St. Teresa's response to Christ's love, Edith found the answer she had sought. She decided to follow Christ's invitation and enter July-Augtlst 1999 GoMman ¯ Edith Stein the Catholic Church. (Even at that time Edith was strongly aware that an attraction to live out her baptismal commitment as a mem-ber of the Discalced Carmelite Order and as a daughter of St. Teresa was inseparable from her resolve to enter the church.) Edith bought a catechism and a missal, studied them thor-oughly, then went to her first Mass in the parish church of Bergzabern, celebrated by the pastor, Monsignor Breitling. Finding that she had no difficulty in following the Mass, she approached Monsignor Breitling afterwards and asked for baptism. The sur-prised pastor told her that there is usually an extended period of preparation before someone is received into the church. But Edith would not relent and asked that he examine her right then on the truths of the faith. The "examination" went so well that her bap-tism was set for the coming New Year's Day. Edith began attend-ing Mass daily--it became the center of her spiritual life. During the years she taught at St. Magdalena's, she was remembered as a teacher who was "modest and unassuming., she went about her work pretty much unseen and unheard, always friendly and ready to be of help." As one student wrote of her rec-ollections of Edith Stein: "Actually, she gave us everything. Though we were all very young at the time, none of us has ever been able to forget the spell that her personality exerted. Her manner alone made her a model for us at that critical time. There's not a single remark of hers that I can repeat--and it isn't that her comments were not memorable, but that she was a quiet, untalkative person who could influence us simply by who she was." These words reflect what Edith herself said of her teaching. She regarded edu-cation as a form of apostolate and generously devoted herself to all the needs of her students. When in 1932-1933 Edith could no longer teach or publish because of the situation in Germany, she at last received permis-sion to enter the Cologne Carmel. This was something she had wanted to do since the day she was baptized, and now it was to be fulfilled. From 16 July to 15 August 1933, she lived in the extern guest quarters at the C.ologne convent while getting acquainted with the sisters. After" that she spent several months in Breslau doing all she could to make her leave-taking easier on her family before her entrance into Carmel on 15 October, the feast of St. Teresa. For six months she was a postulant, being admitted to the novitiate on 15 April 1934. At this time she received her name in religion, Sister Teresa .Benedicta of the Cross. She had taken the Review for Religious name of Teresa at the time of her baptism and took the name Benedicta of the Cross--blessed by the cross--which was her great devotion. She took the name Benedicta also in honor of St. Benedict, since she had been the spiritual child of Archabbot Walzer, who was the abbot at Beuron, the monastery where she had spent much time. In 1935 on Easter Sunday she pronounced her first vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and three years later, on 21 April 1938, she made her final solemn profession. Life in the monastery was for Edith very different from what she had experienced in the world. She was forty-two years old, and the other novices were in their twenties. She was not accus-tomed to housework and made all kinds of mistakes. The novice mistress had been a bit worried at first when she heard she would have to teach a scholar, but Edith was so amiable and eager to learn that the novice mistress forgot her nervousness. Another thing, her time was not her own--and was very much regulated by bells. After the novitiate, however, much of her assigned work was of an intellectual nature. She revised some of the things she had written while at Speyer. Some of her writings during this period are published in The Hidden Life. At times she also served as receptionist (at the "turn" and on the telephone) and as infirmarian. On 31 December 1938 she was driven across the border to the Carmelite monastery at Echt in Holland. Since Kristallnacht (8 November 1938), Edith had thought it best not to endanger the Cologne Carmel any longer with her presence. Sister Teresa Benedicta spent only a little over three years in the Echt Carmel. During this time she suffered greatly, not know-ing what was happening to her family. Some of her brothers and sisters were able to emigrate to America, but several were not per-mitted to go. Her sister Rosa was with her, having become a Catholic after the death of their mother in 1936. Edith's letters at this time express a central theme: Do everything you can to give joy to others; let God guide you without resistance; fill up She had taken the name of Teresa at the time of her baptism and took the name Benedicta of the Cross-blessed by the cross - which was her great devotion. July-Augv~st 1999 Goldman ¯ Edith Stein the emptiness of your heart with love of God and neighbor. In 1939 she composed her final testament. It reveals more than anything else her conscious acceptance of her particular mis-sion. I quote from the concluding lines: I joyfully accept in advance the death God has appointed for me, in perfect submission to his most holy will. May the Lord accept my life and death for the honor and glory of his name, for the needs of his holy Church (especially the preservation, sanctification, and final perfecting, of our holy order, and in particular for the Carmels of Cologne and Echt), for the Jewish people, that the Lord may be received by his own and his kingdom come in glory, for the deliverance of Germany and peace throughout the world, and finally for all my relatives living and dead and all whom God has given me: may none of them be lost. In late July 1942 the Dutch bishops issued a pastoral letter that was read in all the Catholic parishes of the Netherlands con-demning the deportation of Jews. One week after the bishops' pas-toral letter, on 2 August 1942, the Nazis in a single sweeping operation rounded up all Jewish Catholics, among them Edith and Rosa Stein. On 6 August Edith and Rosa and many other Jewish Catholics were at Westerbork awaiting deportation to the "east." The destination was Auschwitz, where it is believed both Edith and Rosa were executed on 9 August. When the church canonizes someone, it is in essence saying that it is safe to imitate this person. In putting its final approval on Edith Stein by declaring her a saint, the church says to us that we cannot go wrong if we incorporate into our lives the ideals that she professed. Edith Stein gave much to our world by her life and death, and now that she is ranked among the saints in heaven, she is still able to give to us by her example and prayers. I think Edith Stein could easily be the patron saint of academics, school teach-ers, and certainly single people living in the world, since this was her life before she entered Carmel. We may not be called upon to give our lives for our faith, but there are endless possibilities of our practicing virtue as exemplified in Edith Stein's life. First of all, she was a modern woman, one who lived in the world, made her living, and when time permitted spent many hours at home with her family--remember she came from a large fam-ily and her mother died in her eighty-seventh year in 1936. She is a 20th-century woman, one who had a deep regard for the voca-tion of women in our world. I point out her book on woman, Review for Religions where she brings out the vocation of women, their education and professionalism, their life not only in the church, but in civic and national life as well. She had experienced exclusion from a pro-fessorship because she was a'woman--Edith Stein could easily be the patron saint of the feminist movement of our day. Edith Stein is a model for our prayer life. Even from the time before her baptism, daily Mass was on her agenda, and she was very familiar with the other official prayer of the church, the Divine Office, the Breviary, now called the Liturgy of the Hours. She often went to the Benedictine abbey at Beuron and participated in the choral praying of the Liturgy of the Hours. Being there for Holy Week services was something she anticipated yearly. Besides Mass and Office, she was accustomed to spending several hours daily in private prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. She had a great familiarity with Scripture and quotes it often in her letters. Before she entered Carmel, she would accompany her mother to the synagogue and pray the psalms in Latin that her mother was praying in Hebrew. Even in her busy life of teaching, writing, counseling students, giving lectures, and so forth~ she always found time for prayer. I hope that this brief sketch provides some insight into this new saint of ours, one who is very aware of our times. Edith Stein is being proclaimed a martyr and a confessor. At the homily of her beatification, Pope John Paul II declared: "In the extermina-tion camp She died as a daughter of Israel 'for the glory of the Most Holy Name' and, at the same time, as Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, literally, 'blessed b~ the cross.'" The "cause" of her martyrdom, the pope said, was the Dutch bishops' letter of protest against the deportation 6f the Jews. But, he added, because of her great desire to unite with the sufferings of Christ on the cross, she "offered herself to God as a 'sacrifice for genuine peace' and above all for her threatened and humiliated Jewish people." Prudently he left unmentioned her desire to atone for Jewish "unbelief." To many Jewish people the canonization of Edith Stein is an affront. What about the six million Jews who were exterminated and are not saints in the Catholic sense? In my opinion Edith Stein is a Catholic saint who iust happened to have Jewish origins, some-thing she was especially proud of after she came into the church. Edith Stein is a model for our prayer life. July-August 1999 Goldman ¯ Edith Stein Perhaps it is also a mystery. In my own life, being Jewish and Catholic has been a great grace. I have always said that I did not really convert, but just kept going on. Judaism is the beginnings of Christianity, and my own beginnings have been fulfilled in my life. I am sure Edith Stein looked at this in the same way. I close this brief essay with the prayer from the Mass of St. Edith Stein, whose feast will be celebrated.on 9 August: Lord God of our ancestors, you brought St. Teresa Benedicta to the fullness of the science of the cro~s at the hour of her martyrdom. Fill us with that same knowledge; and, through her intercession, allow us always to seek after you, the supreme truth, and to remain faithftil until death to the covenant of love ratified in the blood of your Son for the salvation of all. Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen. Select Bibliography Works by Edith Stein: Collected Works of Edith Stein. Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications¯ Vol. I: Life in a Jewish Family. Trans. Josephihe Koeppel OCD. Vol. 2: Essays on Woman. Trans. Freda M. Oben PhD. Vol. 3: The Problem of Empathy. Tians. Waltraut Stein PhD. Vol. 4: The Hidden Life. Trans. Waltraut Stein PhD Vol. 5: Self-Portrait in Letters 1916-1942. Trans. Josephine Koeppel OCD. Edith Stein: Selected Writings, ed. Susanne M. Batzdorff. Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1990. On the Problem of Empathy (Zum Problem der Einfiihlung). Trans¯ Waltraut Stein. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1964. The Science of the Cross (Kreuzewissenschaf~). Trans. Hilda Graef. Chicago: Regnery, 1960. "Ways to Know God" (Wege der Gotteserkenntnis). Trans. M. Rudolf Mlers. The Thomist, July 1946. Works about Edith Stein: Batzdorff, Susanne M. Aunt Edith: The Jewish Heritage of a Catholic Saint. ~Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1998. Graef, Hilda. Writings of Edith Stein. Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1956. Herbstrith, Waltraud. Edith Stein: A Biography. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1985¯ ¯ Never Forget¯ Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1998. Oben, Freda Mary, PhD. Edith Stein: Scholar, Feminist, Saint¯ Staten Island: Review for Religious Alba House, 1988). Oesterreicher, John M. Walls Are Crumbling. London: Hollis and Carter, 1953. Pp. 288-329. Woodward, Kenneth L. Making Saints: How the Catholic Church Determines Who Becomes a Saint, Who Doesn't, and Why. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1990. Pp. 135-144. Also articles in various periodicals such as America, London Tablet, Spiritual Life, and Carmelite Digest. In Passing In the morning when Jesus walked with the disciples by his side, he encountered the wildflowers, the grains of wheat caught by the breeze, and the songbirds that greeted him with their unending hosannas. Now as I stroll past the flowers , their colors brightening my path and the trees 'beckoning to me to partake of the lilting songs of birds hidden in their branches, I recall all Jesus said and did as he walked the roads of this life, and I try to keep his great love, compassion and zest for life in the tabernacle of my heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald ~dy-August 1999 C. WALKER GOLLAR At Home by the Sea: Isabel Green SCN and the House of Prayer Experience Teponymous hero of Richard Bach's 1970 book Jonathan ingston Seagull at one point employs a rare maneuver in order to test two other seagulls that caught his eye. Jonathan pre-viously has been obsessed with speed, but, upon seeing these two unusual birds, Jonathan "twisted his wings land] .slowed to a sin-gle mile per hour above stall, [but then, much to his surprise, the] two radiant birds slowed with him, smoothly, locked in position. They knew about slow flying.''1 Like Jonathan Livingston Seagull, the Catholic female reli-gious orders of the 1940s and '50s could demonstrate great skill along with an increasing level of professionalism. As institutions they flew at top speeds, even though their abundance of ritual, order, and bureaucracy often seemed to stray far from their sim-ple beginnings. In the 1960s the Second Vatican Council chal-lenged communities of religious not only to get in touch with their roots, but also to recultivate the equivalent of slow flying, that is, prayer and contemplation. One directive that accompanied this challenge called for the creation of houses of prayer. Several men, including Bernard H~iring, Thomas Merton, and David Steindl- Rast, promoted the idea, but religious women effectively saw to its realization. The House of Prayer Movement grew, not out of a set of theological concepts, but rather out of the very real efforts C. Walker Gollar, an assistant professor of church history, writes from the Department of Theology; Xavier University; 3800 Victory Parkway; Cincinnati, Ohio 45207. Review for Religious of women looking to be regrafted onto their ministry's spiritual roots. The progress made by one woman will illustrate how this prayer initiative enriched not only her life, but also the lives of thousands of other religious women heeding the call of the Second Vatican Council. Eleanor Isabel Green was born on 19 June 1921 in Lebanon, Kentucky, the third child and first daughter of Nell Churchill Putnam Green. Nell's husband, a local dentist named William Spalding Green, died in 1926 of a rare heart condition at the age of forty-three, when Isabel was only five. Isabel's mother never remarried; she raised her five children largely by herself. On Sunday evening, 3 November 1935, when only fourteen, Isabel was in a car accident that resulted in the amputation of her right leg below the knee. By all accounts she quickly accepted this hand-icap as part of God's plan and then got on with her life. She grad-uated from St. Augustine High School in Lebanon in June 1938 and then enrolled at Nazareth College, nineteen miles away, at the Motherhouse of the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, Kentucky, just north of Bardstown. Sister Catherine Spalding After her second year, the school's chaplain, Father James McGee, persuaded Isabel to become a novice with the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth. She professed vows on 19 July 1941. Her ancestors included the Spalding family of old Kentucky. Archbishop Martin John Spalding of Baltimore and Bishop John Lancaster Spalding of Peoria, Illinois, were her uncles from two different generations. Because of these connections, Isabel was the first sister in the order allowed to assume the name of their foundress, Mother Catherine Spalding, a cousin of Archbishop Spalding. As Sister Catherine Spalding, Isabel immediately fell into the busyness of religious life. Heeding an older nun's advice that "it's better to wear out than to rust out," over the next quar-ter of a century Isabel served the college as registrar, treasurer, dean, financial-aid advisor, director of admissions, and alumnae and public-relations director.2 She recalled that all these skills, and many others as well, were learned "on the.job.''3 During these years, by her own account, she "worked with and dealt with all kinds of people in all kinds of situations--young and old, reli-gious and lay, foreigners and American, black, white, yellow, and July-August 1999 Gollar ¯ /It Home by the Sea red, rich and poor, socially elite and simple, professionals, etc.''4 Into the 1960s she served, in effect, as president of the college even though she did not hold the title. As tireless service to others began to take its toll on Isabel, she listened intently to the admonitions of her neighbor, the Trappist monk Thomas Merton of Gethsemani, which is located just a few miles from Nazareth. "We have to learn to commune with our-selves," he explained, "before we can communicate with other men [and women] and with God.''s At the same time, however, Merton insisted that we become our true selves only through identification with God as the reason and fulfillment of our exis-tence. This identification emerged out of what Merton called "active contemplation."6 Like countless other religious women at this time, Isabel had become highly professional; to use Merton's terminology, she gained her identity primarily through the actions of her external or false self. She soon came to realize, as Merton had written, that there are "times when in order to keep ourselves in existence at all we simply have to sit back for a while and do nothing.''7 As did many though certainly not all religious, Isabel wel-comed the directives of the Second Vatican Council (1961-1965), which called not only for adaptation to the times; but also for fundamental renewal in the religious life. The Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis) indi-cated that religious should be thoroughly prepared for their min-istry and also be afforded the opportunity and time for ongoing spiritual, doctrinal, and professional development. Such growth must include a "continuous return to the sources of all Christian life," including Scripture and the Eucharist. As Merton had already argued~ this decree likewise maintained that religious communi-ties should make a genuine commitment not only to apostolic love, but also to contemplation aimed at an "intimate union" with Jesus Christ.8 In response to this conciliar exhortation, theologian Bernard Hiiring CSSR suggested that female orders set aside specific places at each convent that would be devoted to prayer. He had been inspired by Isaiah 56:7: "I will make them joyful in my house of prayer." On 12 March 1967 Marie Goldstein RSHM and Ruth Caspar OP convened a spontaneous workshop at Notre Dame University in order to discuss the feasibility of establishing houses of prayer. Several other sisters, two priests, and one layman Review for Religious attended. The group suggested that these houses should seek to balance the pervasive "thrust towards hyperactivism" with "a cor-responding thrust towards radical prayer." Each house should become a center for the study of mysticism and ascetic theology, including the practice of Yoga and Zen. The spirit of poverty and simplicity should reign, with the houses providing a place for divine energy and peace as well as psychological serenity. With these aims, houses of prayer could constitute, the group said, "one of the greatest hopes for an authentic understanding of church renewal." In the September 1967 issue of Review for Religious, the group published under H~iring's name a report on their meet-ing. H~iring had not attended the gathering at Notre Dame, though he was supportive of the proceedings. His name certainly added weight to the report.9 A New Apostolate Thomas Merton's death at Bangkok on 10 December 1968 accelerated Isabel's own movement away from the convent into a house of prayer. Almost exactly one year earlier, Isabel's mother had passed away. With a heavy heart Isabel attended Merton's funeral in Kentucky, then~reevaluated the course of her own life. After twenty-three years of service to the college, Isabel concluded that she had given all she wan~ed to give to the field of'education. Following the directives of Merton, she asked her community for time to pray. In her late forties, she was overworked and, as she said, was "tired." She knew that the college was going to close anyway, but.also sensed a growing need to care for her own spirit. Completely of her own accord she resigned from the position at Nazareth College in Januai'y 1969. The school closed two years later. ~0 From January to June she lived with a group of Sisters of Charity of Nazareth at the Cardinal Cushing Hospital in Brockton, Massachusetts, where, besides praying, she studied what some were calling HOPE, which stood for House of Prayer Experience. At the end of this time she spent seven weeks in a House of Prayer program sponsored by the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Monroe, Michigan. Under the direction of Margaret Brennan and Ann Chester, the IHM sisters had taken the lead in this move-ment. The seven-week program, called HOPE '69, terminated with a retreat under Bernard H~iring. He considered his presence at July-Augv~st 1999 Gollar ¯ At Home by the Sea the end to be providential. After the 136 participants had been living in fourteen different locations for seven weeks, H~iring cel-ebrated the fact that these women had brought to life houses of prayer on their own. During the concluding retreat, one woman suggested that a priest should h'ave been part of each house. To this, H~iring emphatically answered: No-o-o. You are too prone to rely on a priest. This House of Prayer is your charism. Use your own ingenuity to develop it. The best way to produce something new is to trust the charism of those involved, as they are open to the Spirit and to one another. The Holy Spirit does not work through inflexible people.'ll Some men did get involved in the movement, certainly~contributed excellent work, and provided important insights. Ann Chester nonetheless contended "that the leadership in the movement and the main development have been the work of women religious."12 After the experience in Monroe, Isabel ct)nvinced the' Sisters of Charity of Nazareth to offer their support. The 1969 chapter commissioned her to introduce, over six months beginning in September, the House of Prayer Movement to all 110 communi-ties in the order. She stirred up great interest and then, from February to June 1970, while residing back at St. Joseph's Infirmary in Louisville, continued extensive planning. That sum-mer she coordinated the running of~ fourteen houses of. prayer open to various religious communities in the Archdiocese of Louisville. In September 1970 she accepted a two-year grant from the Center for Spiritual Studies at Mount Saviour Benedictine Monastery in Elmira, New York, to assist Brother David Steindl- Rast in the House of Prayer Movement. She lived at the monastery for three months. Gloucester During this time Isabel and Brother David searched for a suit-able place0.for another house of prayer that might s.erve a range of active orders beyond the Sisters of Charity. Since 1957 'the Jesuits had offered high school retreats for boys at Gonzaga, a revamped turn-of-the-century stone mansion that overlooked Brace Cove and the Atlantic Ocean at Eastern Point: in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Next to the retreat house Isabel and Brother David spied a five-bedroom servants' outbuilding that had stood virtually Review for Religious unused for many years. In December 1970 they secured permission from the Jesuits to rent this space for a house of prayer. Isabel and Brother David invited two religious women not of the Sisters of Charity, a Catholic layman, and a Jewish expert in Hatha Yoga, Ravi Baumann, to be a part of the first core group. Over the next few months this team gradually established prayerful routines, while they also cleaned and rearranged the house. Then in late May 1971 Isabel bade adieu to Brother David and the initial core team, which by this time not only had readied the place for its first real guests, but also had begun to discuss what the permanent thrust of the house should be. They had agreed that the door would be open to anyone who wished to come anytime throughout the year, though special emphasis would be placed on the summer, when presum-ably more people could get away from their jobs. Individuals who could stay for up to a year might be asked to become part of new core teams that would take special responsibility for run-ning the house. No 'set fees were charged, though guests would be invited to make donations to help cover operating expenses. In the summer of 1971, for the first time at Gloucester, Isabel sponsored two five-week summer experiences. Seven sisters from at least four different orders con-stituted the first group; several religious men joined other sisters during the second session. They came from all over North America. After this time Isabel decided upon the four essential aspects of her house: simplicity, silence, prayer, and hospitality. Isabel decided upon the four essential aspects of her house: simplicity, silence, prayer, and hospitality. Essential Aspects of the House of Prayer Simplicity was apparent in the furnishing and the free atmo-sphere. The house had no frills, no bedspreads, and no curtains other than fishnet draped across curtain rods. Lobster traps served as tables, while carpet samples donated by a local store decorated the floors of the upstairg hallway and chapel. Since many of the guests who would visit over the next fifteen years left incredibly busy schedules to come to Gloucester, Isabel tried her best to ~u~-August1999 Gollar * At Home by the Sea uncomplicate things for them. "Of intent purpose," she once explained, "not much 'busyness' or 'business' goes on here.''~3 Freed from their jobs and left without much to do, many guests eventually discovered new freedom. Sisters, brothers, priests, and an increasing number of laypersons often found their inner selves again at Gloucester. One woman wrote, "For the first time in my life, I feel free--free to be me.''~4 The simplicity of Gloucester encouraged persons to uncover their true selves in an environ-ment that sanctioned doing nothing. Beyond the simple environment, for Isabel the key to the House of Prayer was the pervasiveness of what she called "life-giv-ing silence." ~s This was not, as a core member once explained, a matter of waiting for what was going to happen next, but rather "a happening in itself."'6 Such silence was rarely found in bustling convents, even though in Isabel's mind silence constituted every-one's "birthright." Conversation at the House of Prayer was lim-ited to the noon meal, while TVs and typewriters were nowhere to be found. One telephone was available, though out of sight in a closet underneath the main stairwell. "If you're going to talk to God," Isabel insisted, "then it's easier when you're not talking to someone else at the same time." ~v The house provided quiet space and time for theological reflection and prayerful discernment, so that visitors might, in Isabel's words, "look at and attempt to answer the questions we all are asking ourselves.''~8 Silence at Gloucester effectively b~came a means to communication both with yourself and with others. One priest, for example, while at the House of Prayer faced for the first time what he called his "shat-tered self." Out on the rocks he discovered "that I was deeply afraid of death and very angry at a 'god' who took my parents in the prime of their lives." He voiced this anger, then in faith began to see that death was not the end he had so desperately feared?9 Other guests often emerged out of their silence, needing to talk to Isabel, and she gladly lent her ear. The group conversations at the noon meal were especially enriching. The Eastern Point House of Prayer never had a name, though, after reading Trina Paulus's Hope for the Flowers,. Isabel once considered calling the place the "Cocoon House.'! Many visitors left Gloucester like beautiful butterflies, reinvigorated and sometimes transformed. Temporary retreat from life's incessant demands encouraged more spirit-filled worldly work.2° In a simple and silent environment, the Eastern Point House Review for Religious of Prayer became, in Isabel's words, primarily "a community of praying people who live in praise of the Lord all day, every day.''2~ In contrast to the complicated, impersonal rote prayers of the con-vent, Isabel encouraged simple encounters with God. Brother David had helped her distinguish between the "prayers" that often get in the way of prayer, and "prayer" as the "total confrontation of the human heart with God.''22 During her months of prepara-tion, Isabel had searched the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures for every name that could be attributed to Jesus and then arranged these titles with a Hare Krishna chant used by Eastern yogis. At Gloucester, with the gong of a melodious bowl, Isabel called guests to gather in the chapel to greet the sunrise, bless the water, and invite God into their hearts with the chanting of this Jesus prayer. This ritual was repeated at noon and often at compline around the living-room fireplace. Each session of prayer ended with the chant "Om shanti," a cry for peace. One core member spoke for many others when she explained that, before her year at Gloucester, prayer "was something I had to do and did, but it seemed never to mean much." After her visit the Jesus prayer became a vital part of her life.23 Many religious traditions met at Gloucester. A small menorah burned in the chapel during Hanukkah, while yoga was adapted to Christianity in order to enrich experiences of prayer. Isabel explained that yoga could be practiced by anyone regardless of his or her faith, for yoga simply encourages relaxation and emotional integration. At this time a Congregational minister and frequent visitor to the House of Prayer, R. Cameron Borton from nearby Rockport, Massachusetts, was happy to note that, while many young persons were leaving Christianity in pursuit of Eastern reli-gions, the House of Prayer demonstrated a way in which both tra-ditions could be integrated. Catholic liturgies were celebrated on most afternoons; these liturgies were, in Isabel's words. "really different.''24 A small group of participants gathered on pillows around a squared piece of drift-wood used as the altar. Gifts from~the sea, as well as a portrait of Robert Kennedy, decorated the walls. The celebrant, wearing only minimal vestments, encouraged everyone to participate especially in the shared homilies. Openly expressing individual concerns kept participants in touch with the larger world community. During these services Reverend Borton witnessed what he called "the Catholic Church in a way free from the overpowering structures, July-August 1999 Gollar ¯ At Home by the Sea massive institudonalism, and impersonalism I had come to associate with the Catholic Church." He saw the House of Prayer as "a very crucial ecumenical bridge for these reasons.''2s To foster reconciliation within the Catholic community, Isabel still insisted that the Eucharist be available for perpetual adoration. For the alarming number of Catholics who had grown alienated from the church during or after the Second Vatican Council, the Eastern Point House of Prayer was a safe place to come. Broken individuals, as well as those simply searching for something more, came to Gloucester. Often, in the chapel before the Eucharist, new direction was found among sisters who might otherwise have lost their vocation, lay people whose only thread of contact with the church was provided at the House of Prayer, and priests in search of the contemplative roots of their ministry. Everyone was welcome at Gloucester. Rooted in Isaiah 55, -Ish_.bel extended her hospitality: "Oh, come to the water, all you who are thirsty; though you have no money, come!. Listen, lis-ten to me, and you will have good things to eat and rich food to enjoy. Pay attention, come to me; listen, and your soul will live." A wide range of persons visited the House of Prayer, including, according to Isabel's ~ecollection, "blacks, Jews, orientals, hus-bands and wives, [the divorced, widowed, and alcoholic], children, married deacons, ministers (both men and women), priests, reli-gious, [seminarians, Pax Christi groups, and Catholic Worker peo-ple].'' 26 As one outsider observed, coming to Eastern Point seemed easy--it was the leaving that was hard.27 Most visitors agreed with one woman who remarked that at Gloucester "I was home.''2~ Wider Significance , With this spirit of simplicity, silence, prayer, and hospitality, the Eastdrn Point House of Prayer quickly became known all .around the country. Brother David had gone on to inspire many other houses of prayer, yet still acclaimed Gloucester as "one of the most successful realizations of the House of Prayer idea.''29 Like most observers, Brother D~vid attributed much of the success of Eastern Point to Isabel's own unique gifts. She was able to inspire many persons who had ~received their "basic training" at Gloucester to start other houses of prayer across the United States and in Canada, Chile, and Ireland as well. Though the House of Prayer Movement lost some steam by the early 1980s, with many houses Review for Relig'ious closing or changing focus, Isabel reported to the Jesuits that over the years very little had changed at Gloucester. She had always been able to maintain the original purpose of the house. The House of Prayer breathed new life into the Jesuit Retreat House next door and also supported other communities like the Wellspring House, started in Gloucester in 1981 by several persons including lay theologian Rosemary Haughton. Occasionally Wellspring did not have enough room to put up some homeless men. Wellspring's director, Nancy Schworer, asked Isabel to help out; Despite her suspi-cion that the Jesuits would not approve, Isabel told Schworer to bring them over, but to cut her lights when she pulled up to the House of Prayer. "I did," Schworer said.3° The Jesuits still grew suspicious of Isabel. Over the years the Jesuits periodically challenged Isabel's use of the property, but despite some battles her days at Eastern Point remained vibrant until she was diag-nosed with terminal cancer in 1985. That summer her family brought her back to Kentucky, to the Nazareth Home in Louisville, where she spent her last days. Once the Jesuits realized she would never return to Gloucester, they began to reno-vate the House of Prayer, eventually mak-ing it an extension of the retreat house, which is what it remains to this day. The Jesuits defended this readaptation, explaining that no one could replace Isabel. Still, the decision to close the House of Prayer must have been linked to periodic suspicions regarding the creative community that existed on their property but was effectively out of their control. Because of its radical openness to God, the House of Prayer invited renewal in ways that undoubt-edly seemed threatening to certain entrenched church str~ctures. Isabel passed away on Wednesday, 15 January 1986. Order was restored at Gloucester, but a certain creativity was lost. In his 1977 novel, Illusions, Richard Bach tells of a creature that dared to let go of the twigs and rocks on the river bottom to which all other creatures previously had clung. The current lifted him free. Thomas Merton, Bernard H~ring, David Steindl-Rast, and the fathers of the Second Vatican Council called for change, To foster reconciliation within the Catholic community, Isabel insisted that the Eucharist be available for perpetual adoration. July-August 1999 Gollar ¯ At Home by the Sea but people in houses of prayer, especially women like Isabel Green, realized the anticipated renewal. Many guests let go of their busy-ness, put behind the patriarchal structures of the past, and tran-scended traditional Catholic boundaries in search of deeper knowledge of themselves. Visitors to houses of prayer replaced detached, regulated prayers with intimate encounters with God, and with all of creation too, especially those who were struggling for personal and social integrity. In. so doing these guests discov-ered new possibilities for their ministries. Like Richard, Bach's courageous river creature, Isabel Green sounded the good news of the Second Vatican Council when, in the silence of the. Eastern Point House of Prayer, she announced: "The [water] delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go.''3~ Notes ~ Richard Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, A Story (New York: Macmillan, 1970), p. 46. 2 Isabel Green papers (hereafter IGP), Isabel Green to Katie Pumam, 10 February 1948, Nazareth, Kentucky. Isabel Green is the aunt of the author of this article; he inherited her papers. 3 IGP, Talk to Jesuits, 7 February 1983 (hereafter Talk), p. 1. 4 IGP, 1974 Resum~ for Brian Duffy SJ, p. 1. 5 Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1955), p. 120. 6 Thomas Merton, Woods, Shore, Desert: A Notebook, May 1960 (Santa Fe: Museum of New Mexico Press, 1982), 6 May, p. 10. 7 Thomas Merton, No Man lsan Island, p. 122. 8 Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §§2 and 8. 9 Bernard H~iring, "A Contemplative House: Notes from a Discussion Held at Notre Dame," Review for Religious 26, no. 5 (September 1967): 772; and H~iring, Acting on the Word: The Challenge to Religious Communities in an Age of Renewal (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1968), p. 204. H~ring's book reprinted part of the article and added a few new insights. 10 IGP, Talk, p. 1. " Quoted in Ann Chester, My Journey in the House of Prayer (Monroe, Michigan: Pathways Press, 1991), p. 42. ~2 Chester, MyJourney~ p. 16. ~3 IGP, Open letter of solicitation for "testimonials," by Isabel Green SCN, November 1973, Gloucester, Massachusetts. Review for Religious ~4 IGP, Ann to Isabel Green SCN, 22 January 1975, no place. ~3 IGP, General Statement by Isabel Green SCN directed to Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, 26 February 1984 (hereafter General Statement). ~6 IGP, Michael van der Peer SCJ to Isabel Green SCN, 7 January 1975, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. ~7 Quoted in Gloucester Community News, "Nuns Rise at Dawn for Daily Yoga," 21 November 1975. ~8 IGP, General Statement. 19 IGP, Sister Darlene Kern to Isabel Green SCN, 3 January 1975, St. Pius X Convent, Billings, Montana. 20 IGP, Michael Guimon OSM to Isabel Green SCN, 20 January 1975, Detroit, Michigan. 2~ IGP, Janet L. SSJ to Isabel Green SCN, 11 January 1975, Providence, Rhode Island. 22 IGP, Janine to Isabel Green SCN, undated (c. 1 January 1975). 23 Isabel Green, "Eastern Shoreside House of Prayer," SCNews (April 1973), p. 4; Tina Paulus, Hope for the Flowers (New York: Paulist Press, 1972). 24 IGP, Talk, p. 4 zs Steindl-Rast, "Prayer in the Twenty-first Century," Audiotape by Credence Cassettes, AA2566, 1992. 26 IGP, Jean Kilvin to Isabel Green SCN, 2 February 1975, Halifax, Nova Scotia. 27 IGP, Talk, p. 8. 2.8 IGP, Reverend R. Camer~)n Borton to Isabel Green SCN, 20 January 1975, Rockport, Massachusetts. 29 IGP, Talk, p. 9. Some well-known theologians including Avery Dulles visited the Eastern Point House of Prayer. 30 "At Home by the Sea: Intercommunity Prayer, Often Interfaith Too," Crux of Prayer, February 1976. 3~ IGP, Sheila Ford SCN to Isabel GreenSCN, January 1975, Eastern Point House of Prayer, Gloucester. 32 IGP, David Steindl-Ra~t OSB to Isabel G~'een SCN, 5 January 1975, West Tremont, Maine. 33 Phone interview with Nancy Schworer, 3 March 1998. 34 Richard Bach, Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah (New York: Dell Publishing Co., 1977), p. 17. 57uly-August 1999 consecrated lile DENNIS J. BILLY Vita Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows In Vita consecrata (1996), his postsynodal apostolic exhor-tatioff on the consecrated life, Pope John Paul II writes of "the profound anthropological significance of the coun-sels" (§87). He does so while treating the prophetic stance of the consecrated life before some of the difficult chal-lenges facing the church today. This explicit statement of the intricate connection between the theology of the counsels and the character of human existence makes the phrase one of the most important in the entire docu-ment. In it the pope bids us to note not only how the vows relate to our self-understanding, but also how, through them, human understanding itself can be transz formed. My purpose in this essay is to draw out some of the implications of this key anthropological statement. The Right Question What we think about the vows and how we live them tells us something about how we view ourselves and the world we live in. This has always been the case, even long ago in the church's .past when philosophical and theological justifications of the counsels thrived that now seem somewhat dubious and even embarrassing. At one Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor, writes again from Rome, where his address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio us time, for example, the counsels were seen as a way of rising above the material dimension of human existence and escaping the bonds that the physical world placed on us--including our own sexuality. Lives of perfect chastity, poverty, and obedience were thought to lead religious to a higher plane of existence where they could over-come'bodily passions and be free of attachments to family, pos-sessions, and self-will. Such a conception of the counsels was supported by an ethi-cal dualism in the church's understanding of human existence that manifested itself in a deep distrust of the body and bodily pas-sions. This deep-seated suspicion predated but was galvanized by Augustine's doctrine of original sin, which affirmed its orthodoxy, on the one hand, by condemning the Gnostic equation of matter with evil and Gnostic ascetic rigor and, on the other, by main-taining a close association between sin and sexual intercourse. Traces of this pessimistic estimation of the body and bodily passion (what Augustine called "concupiscence") have filtered through the church's historical memory and continue to exert a subtle influence on our reception and understanding of the counsels. This is so even though many of the anthropological assumptions that presently guide our theological understanding of the vows (and of the doctrine of original sin) are decidedly different. We lack the space to go into any of these assumptions in detail. My point, however, is very simple. In the church's past, every the-ology of the counsels has made certain anthropological assump-tions. The more we are aware of them, the better we can examine them and discern whether they are appropriate expressions of our own self-understanding. The counsels have had and will always have a deep anthropological significance. The question we need to pose is: Which anthropology and what significance? We need to ask these questions today. Vita Consecrata In his apostolic exhortation, the pope describes the anthro-pological significance of the vows in this way: The decision to follow the counsels, far from involving an impoverishment o~ truly human values, leads instead to their transformation. The evangelical counsels should not be considered as a denial of the values inherent in sexual° ity, in the legitimate desire to possess material goods or July-August 1999 Billy * Vita Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows to make decisions for oneself. Insofar as these inclinations are based on nature, they are good in themselves. Human beings, however, weakened as they are by original sin, run the risk of acting on them in a way which transgresses the moral norms. The profession of chastity, poverty, and obe-dience is a warning not to underestimate the wound of original sin and, while affirming the value of created goods, it relativizes them by pointing to God as the absolute good. Thus, while those who follow the evangelical counsels seek holiness for themselves, they propose, so to speak, a spir-itual "therapy" for humanity, because they reject the idol-atry of anything created and in a certain way they make visible the living God. The consecrated life, especially in difficult times, is a blessing for human life and for the life of the church. (§87) In this passage John Paul affirms the fundamental goodness of human sexuality, material possessions, and human freedom. At the same time he recognizes the capacity each of us has by reason of our weakened state to abuse these basic human goods and even to idolize them. VChat the evangelical counsels do.is "cut them down to size" by referring them to God, the absolute good of human life, and thus diminishing the exaggerated worth we may be tempted to place in them. This process offers humanity a "spiritual therapy" which, through the operation of grace, promises to heal its wounds and bring about the transformation of all human values. Unfortunately, the pope does not go into detail about how this treatment or ther-apy might function. Nor does he tell us the extent to which this rel-ativizing process takes place. By invoking God as the absolute good to which the counsels point, he simply reminds us that human existence is not an end in itself, but is actually oriented beyond itself. It is precisely by looking beyond itself that humanity is able to discover its truest, deepest meaning. In this presentation of the counsels, the pope affirms (1) the fundamental goodness of all creation, (2) the weakness (and not total corruption) of human nature due to original sin, (3) the abso-lute goodness of God, who alone is worthy of our praise and ado-ration, (4) the eschatological orientation of the vows, which relativize human existence by pointing beyond it and by empha-sizing its inherent creaturely status, and (5) the specific anthro-pological orientation of the vows by virtue of their therapeutic (that is, healing) and transformative (that is, elevating) effect on Review for Religious people's lives. Each of these affirmations is both theological and anthropological in orientation. Together they draw the parame-ters within which the counsels are to be understood and assimilated in our lives. Together they remind us that we are wounded crea-tures capable of being healed and elevated by the grace of a truly plentiful redemption. Within this context the pope speaks about three major chal-lenges facing the church today and how the consecrated life has a prophetic role to play in responding to each of them. The first challenge is "that of a hedonistic culture which separates sexuality from all objective norms, often treating it as a mere diversion and a consumer good and, with the complicity of the means of social communication, justifying a kind of idolatry of the sexual instinct" (§88). Consecrated persons, he states, respond to such values by showing through their lives of chastity that it is possible "to love God with all one's heart, putting him above every other love, and thus to love every creature with the freedom of God" (§88). The second challenge is "that of a materialism which cravespos-sessions, heedless of the needs and sufferings of the weakest, and lacking any concern for the balance of natural resources" (§89). Here again, consecrated persons respond by a life of evangelical poverty, which attests "that God is the true wealth of the human heart" and which "forcefully challenges the idolatry of money, making a prophetic appeal as it were to society, which in so many parts of the developed world risks losing the sense of proportion and the very meaning of things" (§90). The third challenge "comes from those notions of freedom which separate this fundamental human good from its essential relationship to the truth and to moral norms" (§91). To this, con-secrated persons respond th.rough a life which "reproposes the obedience of Christ to the Father and., testifies that there is no contradiction between obedience and freedom" (§91). Consecrated per-sons, in other words, respond to the challenges facing the church in today's world through lives dedicated to the evangelical coun-sels. They do so not alone, but through life in community. This is especially important, since community is "the particular sign, before church and society, of the bond which comes from the same call and the common desire--notwithstanding differences of race and origin, language and culture--to be obedient to that call" (§92). Life in community is nbt only an aid to living the counsels, but also a sign of that toward which both church and July-August 1999 Billy ¯ Vita Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows society are tending. It forges the vows into an eschatological sign of the kingdom that is, at one and the same time, already here and yet to come. Further Integration Although the pope provides many fine insights into the anthro-pological dimensions of the consecrated life and the prophetic response it makes to the challenges facing the church today, I can-not help feeling that even further development of his fundamen-tal insights is possible and even necessary for a more thorough understanding of the vows. I would see this development taking place in five basic anthropological dimensions of human existence: the physical, the emotional, the mental, the spiritual, and the social. The Physical. The counsels make sense only if they have a con-crete, physical expression in the world. If they do not, then con-secrated persons need to ask themselves if they are only pretending to lead lives of chastity, poverty, and obedience. It is very easy to talk about the counsels. It is much more difficult to live them and to insure that they have repercussions in the concrete circum-stances of one's life. I am not going into what these concrete expressions might be. They are probably clearer for some counsels (chastity) than others (poverty and obedience)--although not nec-essarily. My point is that we need to take the physical, bodily expressions of the vows seriously. Consecrated persons are called to be chaste, to be poor, to be obedient; and this should be obvi-ous to other people by the lives we lead. We need to be careful not to fall into the trap of self-deception. It is easy for us to ratio-nalize the compromises we make with the counsels. If we are not careful, we can end up being chaste, poor, and obedient in name only. We are called to much more than that. The Emotional. The physical expression of the counsels, how-ever, would be cold and void of meaning if our hearts were not in it. The emotional side of human existence is very complex and, to many, extremely threatening. It too needs to be integrated in a life dedicated to the counsels. If it is not, then there is a strong possibility that we will end up leading double lives, where our out-ward actions do not correspond with our deepest feelings and emo-tions. Integrating our emotions is a lifelong process. One of the mistakes that institutes of consecrated life have made in the past and which, sad to say, some continue to make is to repress or (per- Review for Religious haps worse) completely ignore this dimension of human existence. Like others, consecrated persons need to be taught how to deal with their emotions--those which help them deepen their com-mitment, as well as those which could weaken it--and integrate them into their life commitments. If they are not taught this, they run the risk of just going through the motions or perhaps not even bothering with them. Consecrated persons who have not learned how to integrate their emotions with the rest of their lives are usually very unhappy people who do a good job of making other people unhappy. They can be difficult to get along with in community. The Intellectual. It is important also that we reflect on the counsels regularly--both individually and as a group. Consecrated persons need to keep abreast of the latest developments in the psychological and social sciences with a view to understand-ing more profoundly their own charism within the church. The theology of the counsels has undergone a great deal of change down through the years, especially since the end of the Second Vatican Council. It shall continue to change. If we fail to reflect upon the meaning the counsels have for us, if we fail to read what theologians and spiritual writers are saying about them, if we fail to talk about them among ourselves, then we run the risk of isolating our vowed commitments from the rest of life. When this happens, we can easily get stuck in old patterns of expression that do not help us meet the challenges of the day. Consecrated persons need to be creative in the way they give witness in the world through the counsels. Theological reading, reflection, and conversation are ways of insuring that such ideas will come to us and find expression in our lives and ministry. It is a mistake to think, for example, that religious learn everything they need to know about the vows during the novitiate. In these matters there needs to be lifelong growth; the intellectual component of that growth should not be overlooked. The Spiritual. Consecrated persons also need to be still and let their spirits yearn for God. It is in the deepest dimension of the self that the Spirit of God communes with consecrated persons' own spirits; it is there that they can find strength for living their Consecrated persons need to be creative in the way they give witness in the world through the counsels. ~uly-August 1999 Billy ¯ Vita Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows We are social beings by nature. We become who we are called to be through our interaction with others. vowed life. By professing the evangelical counsels, consecrated per-sons seek to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. This life of imitation is not meant to be a cold, external effort.'We are much too weak for that. Rather, it involves an intimate relationship with the Spirit of Jesus, which propels us to live the way he did and to do so with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength. For this to happen, conse-crated people need to be men and women of contemplation. Surely there are many forms of prayer; both as individuals and as communities, we favor certain ones. Among these forms we should not forget the contemplative dimension of our lives. On the contrary, we should give it priority of place. If we do not allow ourselves to be still and to listen, if we do not know how to allow our spirits to yearn, to groan, to breathe, then we are overlooking in our prayer a tremendous help in living the counsels. It is through contemplation that we gradually tame, and integrate into the rest of our lives, the deep, inordi-nate passions that affect us by reason of our weakened state. Through contemplation our spirits gradually become chaste, poor, and obedient to the movements of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Without it, it will become all the more difficult for us to live "in the Spirit" and to see how our vows fit into such a life. The Social. We live the vows individually, but also in community. Consecrated persons cannot go it alone. They need the support of others to help them along. They should be encouraged to have close, intimate friends with whom they feel free and secure enough to share their problems and difficulties. They also need the support of a wider circle of friends and acquaintances. Most of all, they need community. We are social beings by nature. We learn about ourselves and we become who we are called to be through our interaction with others. It is through our interaction with others that we learn the meaning of the counsels and receive help to live them. Consecrated persons are oriented toward community life because the counsels themselves are rooted in a communal under-standing of human existence. If we overlook the social dimensions of our lives as consecrated persons, it is almost certain that we will be overlooking in our lives some aspect of what it means to be chaste, poor, and obedient. Living the counsels and living in com-munity are closely tied. This holds true even for the hermit, who Review for Religious lives alone, but whose life and actions lie hidden in the contem-plative heart of the church. These dimensions are important for living the counsels. That is not to say, however, that they will be understood and incorpo-rated in the same degree in every life dedicated to living them. Differences in personality, family background, and cultural prove-nance all come into play, as do such other factors as level of edu-cation, religious training, and long-standing community traditions. The goal for consecrated persons should be to try to integrate all of these elements into their lives, adverting to them and giving them appropriate expression. To overlook some of them or, worse, simply to refuse to take them into account reveals a severe defi-ciency in living the life of the counsels. Counsels and Challenges All of this helps us to view John Paul's emphasis on the anthro-pological dimensions of the counsels and the challenges facing the church today in a slightly different light. For one thing, it helps us to see the challenge beneath the challenges that face consecrated persons in the church today. The counsels must penetrate every part of our lives, not simply those we find most convenient or accommodating to our needs. We will not be able to give a true prophetic response to the hedonism, materialism, and individual-ism in the world today if we exclude the counsels from any of the dimensions I have mentioned--the physical, the emotional, the intellectual, the spiritual, and the social. If we do, we compart-mentalize the counsels, allowing them to take shape in one or more areas of our lives, but not in all of them. When this hap-pens, we wind up with only a halfhearted commitment to the life of chastity, poverty, and obedience. The result is a diminution of our prophetic call. People will refuse to take us seriously because we do not take ourselves seriously. They will only half-believe the words we say, because they will be convinced that we only half-believe them ourselves. John Paul's reflection on the anthropological significance of the counsels can be applied in a reflective and consistent manner to each of these five dimensions. When this is done, an even deeper sense of the anthropological (ignificance of the counsels results. The goodness of creation, foi" example, extends not only to our physical well-being but to the emotional, the intellectual, the spir- July-August 1999 Billy ¯ Vita Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows itual, and the social as well. All of these dimensions, though they are weakened by the results of humanity's primordial fall and seem insignificant in comparison with God the Absolute Good, never-theless have an eschatological significance and hold promise of being both healed and elevated by God's plentiful redeeming grace. It is in these contexts that the counsels deepen our understand-ing of human existence and help us see the whole of life as radically dependent on God. This is what consecrated persons give witness to, live their lives for, and die for. Tidal Wave - Papua New Guinea 7 July 1998 Deadly as a cobra, hooded wide The tidal wave lifts ten meters And sweeps across the Bay Swallowing tall pandanus palms, Crossed timbers of the villages, Once the necklace of the North. Midst the flotsam and jetsam A woman, one foot torn away, grasps a tree top And suddenly gives birth. A scream. And a small brown babe Is lifted above the swirl. "Oh God[ Where are You?" and the wood replies: "He has known the waves of sin His feet were spiked with pain And He, too, died upon a tree." Mary O'Neil RSM Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Authority among Religious in South Asia T[superior general of a male international religious con-gation, after visiting several units of the insftute in South Asia, said he found it difficult to understand the defiance of author-ity and the backbiting that go on in this area. He added that his lack of understanding of this phenomenon was perhaps due to his own foreign cultural perspective. Such an observation from a man of wide experience should at least pose a question to Asian religious. Every culture functions on certain assumptions. They are sel-dom clearly articulated, but they are real and they are operative. For example, in a culture that links equality with freedom, there is a growing awareness that men have, in fact, been afforded greater freedom than women. In order to repair the imbalance, people seek to equalize the position of the sexes by using equality as their criterion. It is not difficult to generate enthusiasm in the public forum for a movement towards equality. Another culture, however, could work from a different assumption. It could consider women to be worthy of much esteem as members of society because of their special role to give birth to and nurture new life in that society. This culture would express that esteem by providing the security of a stable mar-riage and home and by linking this to a limited set of achieve-ments expected of every woman. VChat we tend to forget is that Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR wrote about an approach to refounding in our July-August 1998 issue. Hi

Issue 53.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1994. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUaRY 199Zl. - V6LUME ~; ¯ NUMBER 1~o Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~ by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535~0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARYI994 ¯ VOLUME53 '* NUMBER I contents feature Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ relates the stress within religious life to the loss of traditional God images and the search now for the hidden face of the living God. 29 43 58 toward the synod The Consecrated Life in Church and World Bishop Jan P. Schotte CICM explains the synod of bishops, with brief descriptions of previous ones and the 1994 synodal process. Charism, Charisms, and Faddism A. Paul Dominic SJ brings clarity to the Lineamenta treatment of the charism of religious life and the charisms of its many con-crete forms in various congregations. Hopes for the Synod and Beyond Joel Giallanza CSC focuses his attention on the identity and mis-sion of apostolic religious congregations and their relationship to the hierarchy. 64 73 82 mission and ministry Images of Hope in an Inner-City Parish George M. Anderson SJ shows God working in unlikely places, making use of humble and broken people to advance the values for which Jesus died and rose. A Bracelet of Elephant'sHair Jo O'Donovan RSM shares her sabbatical experience of an "outer" and "inner" Africa. The Modern Development of Messianic Prophecy Allen S. Maller presents for our ecumenical consideration a deeply felt Jewish view of Messianic meaning and fulfillment. 2 Review for Religious experiencing the spirit 89 Living in the Womb of God Marion Zeltmann PCPA reflects upon her experience of enclosure and prayer as a Poor Clare. 95 Do I Really Believe that Death Leads to Life? Francis Blouin FIC suggests some practical ways of responding to the current dyings manifest in religious life. 102 A Rite for Those Departing Religious Formation Peter A. Lyons suggests positive and wholesome ways in which individuals departing from religious life and ~he community mem-bers who remain might deal ritually with this reality. 107 120 130 religious life issues Integrating Human Needs in Religious Formation Howard J. Gray SJ suggests ways of viewing human needs as "longings," radical desires to be integrated in the art of religious ministry. Chapters Present and Future Catherine M. Harmer MMS reviews the history of chapters in reli-gious life and raises questions about their future functioning. Religious Life, a Continuum Francis Assisi Kennedy OSF examines, historical beginnings of reli-gious congregations for patterns surprisingly serviceable today. departments 4 Prisms 142 Canonical Counsel: The Conciliar Decree Perfectae Caritatis 149 Book Reviews Jan~mry-February 1994 3 prisms 1994--a year still to be lived, a year yet to pass into history. For most people there is a healthy anticipation of "good things" when new begin-nings are made. Perhaps such "anticipation" should be called, rather, a precious grace which interconnects us with God, the eternal optimist. New evangelization is the most consistently optimistic theme of John Paul II's papacy. While his encyclicals and apostolic exhortations are many and weighty (witness the most recent Splendor of Truth), I suspect that his repeated call to a new evangelization will be the most significant and lasting grace for the church. The call is a beginning similar to the beginning of a year; it is not as if evange-lization is any newer than the parade of days which form any year's calendar. The newness in large part comes from the attitude with which we enter into evangelization, just as it comes from the way we enter into another year. The oft-quoted phrase about this call to evangelization being "new in its vigor, new in its methods, and new in its expression" is grounded in the attitude which we bring to our Christian responsibility as evangelizers. Attitude alone is not enough, but unless the grace of optimism warms our efforts as believers in Good News to share it and explain it and to offer people a challenge, little evange-lization is the result. Do members of religious congregations need to see a more intimate connection between the new evangeliza-tion and their own efforts at renewal? Since all forms of Christian life come from our having the gospels in our blood, it would seem obvious that an evangelization effort promotes effective renewal. The gospels not only have 4 R~,iew for Religio~s inspired the different forms of religious life, but also have helped shape its various expressions and methods. Men and women moved by the Spirit of Christ have gifted the church with at least three prismatic "colors" of Christ-following that look monastic or mendicant or apostolic. The question remains for us today who have been illumined by these various Christ-prisms how our gospel-inspired attitude can reveal the graced mystery of this life-form in terms of new depths of meaning and new ways of expres-sion- in the very heritage we claim. The darkness we feel comes not from Jesus, the light-source whom we follow, but from our own self-chosen, squint-eyed angle of vision having so little to do with grace or gospel. So often our efforts at renewal seem more a vain search for one "tree of life" instead of for the God who gives all created gifts for our creatively discerned use. Optimism marks the effort of anyone who begins something. An evangelical optimism seems almost lacking both in internal reli-gious congregation renewal attempts and in hierarchical control efforts. As we begin this year of the synod on consecrated life, our prayer for ourselves and our church begs again for that grace dear to our God imaged as the prodigal parent who expects the son (and daughter) to be coming up the road--the grace of opti-mism. As we begin this new volume, Review for Religious warmly welcomes Regina Siegfried, a member of the Sister Adorers of the Blood of Christ, Ruma province, as associate editor. She serves currently as assistant professor of historical studies and spiritual-ity at Aquinas Institute in St. Louis. Former editor of Spirituality Today, she is well known for her books Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers, edited with Bishop Robert Morneau, and In the Company of Preachers, edited with Edward Ruane OP. Review for Religious accepts graciously the loss of Michael Harter SJ as associate editor. In his new role assignment as direc-tor of novices for the Jesuit Missouri provirice, he can assure young candidates' solid formation through their familiarity with articles from Review for Religious. So in losing an editor, I am sure that we are gaining a number of new subscribers. Just as he leaves this media field, his prayer book, Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits, has been published by the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis and is already in its second printing. We wish him well and know that we will miss him. David L. Fleming SJ January-February 1994 5 feature ELIZABETH A. JOHNSON Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God As the third millennium of the Western, Christian calen-dar approaches, all manner of assessments are being made about what will fade into history and what will newly flourish in the year 2001 and afterwards. It does not take a new millennium, however, to see that religious life in the United States is passing through an epochal change, the outcome of which in terms of fade or flourish is an open question. The research project "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," conducted by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis under the sponsorship of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the Leadership Council of Women Religious, sets out fully aware of this moment in history2 The original proposal for this study underscores the rad-icality of the journey now underway. Religious orders, it notes, are in the midst of a process of transformation, defined in categories from the social sciences to mean: The operation of changing (as by mapping or through strategies) one configuration or expression into another in accordance with a rule, a purpose or mission. Elizabeth Johnson csJ is associate professor of theology at Fordham University. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment, (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis. Her address is Department of Theology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458-5165. 6 Review for Religious Such change, furthermore, involves: qualitative, discontinuous shifts in organizational members' shared understandings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informal structures. The most basic questions of group and individual identity, involving who religious are, how they are to live, what they are to do, and why, are all at stake. Religious orders in this country, the proposal continues, are in the midst of a transformative process so profound that it will lead to the demise of some, the revitalizing of others, and the birth of new forms of the evangelical life as yet unimagined. The aim of this research project is to identify factors within religious orders themselves that will contribute to a suc-cessful outcome of this major metamorphosis. Recent historical studies have unveiled a heartening picture of how the evangelical following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called "religious life," has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms. From monastic to mendicant to apostolic communities, to mention but a few of the more widespread models, new forms of this living movement have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change. A compelling interpretation of the present sit-uation holds that in the United States, at least, the present crisis of religious orders signals yet another breakthrough in the many-faceted evolution of forms of the evangelical life. If this be true, this is the first time in the history of the church that members of religious orders in a time of transition have been so self-con-sciously aware of their situation and so equipped with the tools of modern research that they can reflect on and even direct the pro-cess of change. The purpose of this essay is to provide a theological context for the data that follows. It is important to note that this essay was commissioned, designed, and largely written before the research project was completed. Therefore it should not be read as an interpretation of the project's findings. Rather, it is intended as an independently conceived reflective piece on this moment in the history of religious life. To .contextualize the report that follows, this essay first surveys the state of the question in contemporary literature on religious life and then identifies a basic shift occur-ring that affects all the rest and that holds great portent for the future, namely, a change in the experience of God.2 January-February 1994 7 Johnson ¯ Between the Times The living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again. State of the Question Starting in the late 1970s, a number of excellent works have contributed to discussion of the meaning of religious life and have expressed the emerging self-understanding of religious them-selves. Written by or available to members of religious orders in North America, the list includes works on the history, sociology, and theology of the life as lived by both women and men in general,3 as well as works that focus on the experiences of women4 or men5 in particular. The imagery and language of these writings reflect the enormous tension in the state of the question, both as lived and reflected upon. There is a prevalence of "re" words: revitalize, refound, rein-terpret, reimagine, reweave, redefine, rebirth. Metaphors point to new creative acts: pouring new wine into new wine-skins; reweaving the threadbare cloth; standing at the crossroads and discerning the way ahead; planting new seeds; mid-wiring a birth; bringing order out of chaos. The focus is consistently on the future: shaping the coming age, strate-gizing for growth, negotiating the challenge of change, claiming identity, being converted. Individual differences of approach in this literature recede when compared with the convergences that these writings dis-play. Virtually all of the authors are seized by the conviction that in the Western democracies the missionary and apostolic mod-els of religious life, prevalent for the last two hundred years, are dying. Relatively speaking and in some cases literally, "there is no one behind us." But this does not mean that religious life itself is dying, for no one form has ever been definitively lasting as the predominant form for every era. What it may well mean, however, is that the living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again,6 The present malaise and decline, if lived through with discernment, fidelity, and courage, can lead to new, yet-to-be-determined forms commensurate with the cultural realities of the third millennium. 8 Review for Religious This being the case, the literature is replete with enlighten-ing analyses of ecclesial and cultural factors at work in the present changes. It also indicates that a strong consensus is taking shape regarding the way forward. A prophetic stance suffused with con-templation is being glimpsed as the crucial spiritual force that seeks expression in coming forms of religious life. Both the anal-ysis and this key proposal are surveyed here as interesting in their own right and as factors that themselves point further to a foun-dational experience of God. Changes in Church and Society The literature agrees that the most important ecclesial factor underlying the shift in religious life's self-understanding contin-ues to be Vatican II's two-pronged theological articulation of the church's identity and mission. Ad intra (internally) the church is first and foremost the people of God, with every member conse-crated by baptism and empowered to life in Christ. The conse-quent universal call to holiness undercuts the traditional notion that religious life is an elite state of perfection whose members are spiritually set above ordinary lay people. Rather, religious live out their call to holiness as a sacrament or sign to the whole church of its Spirit-filled vocation. Ad extra (externally) the church is to turn pastorally toward the world as God's good creation, marred by sin but redeemed by Christ and worthy of attention. The mission of the church in the world undermines the tradi-tional dualism between the sacred and the secular, along with the concomitant idea that religious should be set apart from the world. Rather, they are to live in relation to the world, not over against but ~vith and for, in criticism and compassion. The conciliar shift from a juridical to a more-biblically-based pastoral identity and mission, still being contested and negotiated in the church at large, undergirds the changes in self-understanding, lifestyle, and ministry that now affect traditional forms of religious life. Since the council, additional ecclesial factors have appeared that continue to impinge upon religious life in the United States. The ongoing efforts by religious orders to reinterpret founding charisms is occurring in the context of postconciliar reinterpre-rations of the Catholic biblical, theological, and liturgical tradi-tions themselves. The infusion of insight from these sources is resulting in new and influential understandings, such as the rad- .January-Febrnary 1994 9 Johnson ¯ Between the Times ¯ ical equality of all in baptismal grace. Furthermore, the postcon-ciliar explosion of lay ministries, both ecclesially sponsored and lay initiated, is multiplying the possibilities open to those who wish to serve in the church beyond the confines of traditional religious life. At the same time it creates a situation of shared, collabora-tive ministry between religious and the laity. In these same years, the original immigrant church in this country has reached mainstream status with the majority of its members moving into the middle class. More options for service and advancement have opened up in the civil sector, lessening the church's attraction as the primary field for a dedicated life. In addition, the economic and educational mores of middle-class life coupled with the availability of birth control has resulted in the reduced size of Catholic families, thus shrinking the pool from which candidates for religious life were traditionally drawn. Meanwhile, a new wave of immigration from Latin America and Asia is presently changing the face of the church; one-third of Catholics in the United States are now Hispanic, half of whom are younger than eighteen years of age. Despite outstanding service on the part of some religious of European descent, however, dif-ferences of culture, race, class, and age, if not overt, prejudice, seem to prev.ent the majority of religious orders from making an effective case for their way of life to members of new immigrant groups. Eras do not repeat themselves. All of these ecclesial factors are playing out in the wider con-text of the church .becoming a world church, less European in character and belonging to all cultures; a church of the diaspora, less supported by a homogeneous culture and more a little flock in a pluralist world; and a church in interreligious dialogue, open to the wisdom of other great religious traditions. Social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States are also contributing to changes in religious life) These forces are many and complex, but several consistently surface in the literature: democracy, which yields a more partic-ipative rather than authoritative style of governance; global aware-ness, which subverts provincialism; growing consciousness of economic and social injustice at home and abroad, which demands action to relieve poverty and promote justice; pervasive violence, which highlights the need for teaching and modeling peaceful resolution of conflicts; materialism, which calls for a countercul-tural witness to simplicity of life and the value of the human over 10 Review for Religious the product; excessive individualism, which cries out for the anti-dote of a genuine community of free and responsible persons; ethnocentrism, racism, and insensitivity to other cultures, which needs the word of the gospel about the fundamental human dig-nity of every person; and feminism, which advocates the equal inclusion of women in that human dignity. The search in the United States for a new, more humane society among ourselves, between all nations, and between human beings and the natural world of this planet contextualizes and begins to inspire the search for new, vital forms of religious life. In a striking way, ecclesial and cul-tural factors have converged in the rise of Christian feminism and its influ-ence in women's religious orders. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. Perhaps it was the play of prov-idence that unleashed the conciliar reforms at the very moment that the women's movement was gathering force once again in the United States. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. In any event, while renewing their lives in the light of the gospel and their founding charisms and while strengthening their witness in the world, especially among those depriv.ed of human dignity, women religious became aware of themselves as women in a patri-archal church and society. They .began to notice the systemic absence and silence of women in church pol!cy-making bodies and ministries, its obvious connection with gender, and the result-ing pressures on the way they lived their lives. Contextualized by the women's movement in church and society, they began to find their own voice and to claim, even for themselves, the respect befitting a human person. Women's experience was affirmed as a legitimate if untapped source of knowledge about religious life and its ministry, prayer, community, and governance, and this found expression in their reflection, dialogue, and new constitu-tions. The result of this awakening was a release of energy that bore and continues to bear promise for the future of religious January-February 1994 11 Johnson ¯ Between the Times life. But it also brings conflict as men church authorities refuse to reverence or dialogue with the insights coming from women's experience, insisting rather on conformity to their own under-standing and law. At this point the alienation of legions of women in the church is a matter of public record. Women religious, too, know this darkness. But among women religious in the United States at the end of the twentieth century, the conviction per-dures that the goals of Christian feminism are fully in accord with the gospel. They continue to grapple with issues of identity and mission with the understanding that through their struggle the Spirit of God is offering a transforming grace to the whole church, although, terrifyingly, grace may always be refused.8 In and through all of this analysis of ecclesial and cultural factors that affect religious life today, authors have been seeking clues as to how this life will be able to flourish in the future. The search appears to be narrowing. Glimpse of a New Form: Prophetic, Contemplative Life In books and essays about religious life and in documents generated by religious orders and the national conferences, a new combination of ancient dements is beginning to define the essen-tial character of religious life. The emerging understanding of this life is primarily that of persons and communities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God. Prophecy and mysticism, prophetic witness and contem-plation, will shape the evangelical life of love of God and neigh-bor in its coming age. The two national conferences of men and of women religious place this insight at the head of the list of ten transformative ele-ments they identify for religious life in the future: 1. Prophetic Witness: Being converted by the example of Jesus and the values of the gospel, religious in the year 2010 will serve a prophetic role in church and society. Living this prophetic wimess will include critiquing social and ecclesial values and structures, calling for systemic change and being converted by the marginalized with whom we serve. 2. Contemplative, Attitude Toward Life: Religious in 2010 will have a contemplative attitude toward all creation and be motivated by the presence of the sacred? 12 Review forReligious In a similar way the visioning groups studied in the Futures Project as well as those identified by the research as outstanding leaders consistently and vigorously endorsed the prophetic/con-templative stance. Far from being an esoteric perspective, this stance brings to light what is most basic in Christian faith and what the church itself needs to emphasize in order to thrive in the future. As Karl Rahner foresaw, the spirituality of the future will arise from rela-tion with the living God at the very heart of the world and con-sequently "will be a spirituality of the Sermon on the Mount and of the evangelical counsels, continually involved in renewing its protest against the idols of wealth, pleasure, and power.''t° This is the calling of the church as a whole, and religious life crystallizes and witnesses to this. The two constituent elements, prophecy and contemplation, can be distinguished mentally and examined separately, but in reality they form one living shape, one wholistic form, one gestalt of life. Asking which comes first is a chicken-and-egg kind of question, with no intelligible answer in sight.1~ Contemplation is a way of seeing that leads to union. It arises from an experience of connection with the sacred at the very core of life. Mediated, as always, by created things such as words, images, and actions, this relationship unfolds as persons and com-munities allow these mediations to lead them into the living pres-ence of the holy. Insofar as the created mediations themselves are transcended in contemplation, this experience counteracts the human effort to control the divine and instead delivers the spirit into the bright darkness of God. From one perspective, the con-nection with the sacred is a result of the inflow of the love of God inflaming and awakening the heart. From another, it entails the discipline of becoming fully conscious, journeying to one's deepest self and to the outer limits of the cosmos in order to touch the divine. In the process, the contemplative "knows" God not in an extrinsic, conceptual way but from within, experien-tially. At the very heart of existence one is in touch with holy mystery, a relation for which the I-Thou relationship among human beings is only a remote analogy. As a result, a certain intuition arises by which one begins to know and love the world as God does. This attitude is totally inclusive of all creation. Everything created is precious and sacred within the cosmic ambience of life and is cause for delight and January-February 1994 13 Johnson ¯ Between the Times thanks. But the evident brokenness of the world and damage done persons and other creatures are cause for grief, compassion, and protest. In some unspeakable situations,, the utter depravity of evil occasions the most profound, wordless hope against hope, without any supports, in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace. The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but pro-foundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. The prophetic lifestyle and action that express this way of seeing are not the result of simple humanism (although the world could use a lot more of this too) but of real belief in God. In solidarity with divine purpose for the world, prophetic persons and communities desire to restore right relationships and so to set right what causes pain and suffering. While this has always been the case, the hermeneutic of prophecy in our day with its sophisticated knowl-edge of systems realizes that the wounds of the heart also afflict culture. Thus prophetic witness includes critique not just of per-sonal acts but also of social, economic, and political structures and values in society. Knowing, too, that we are a sinful church always in need of repentance and reform, this witness is borne toward the values and structures of the community itself. The prophetic stance is marked by a number of characteris-tics. These include attentive listening to the creative Spirit of God, connecting with the suffering in a situation and evaluating its causes, naming what is unjust, being empowered to articulate an alternative future based on the dream of God for the world, bringing compassion and hope to the brokenness, and resistance and challenge to the status quo that would maintain it. In the process prophetic persons and communities strive to empower people in their struggle to live and survive, in turn being taught and empowered by them to continue to seek the face of God. In the Christian tradition this witness is shaped by the fol-lowing of Jesus, in whom the compassion of God takes flesh in the world. Contemplation and prophecy were indivisibly connected in his historical life. As Edward Schillebeeckx explains, "In the prophet Jesus, mysticism and healing came from one and the same source--his experience of the contrast between the living God and the history of human suffering." ~2 The reign of God that he announced envisages an end to exploitation or suppression; his ministry in word and deed enacted practical anticipations of this 14 Review for Religious salvation to come. His own drink from the cup of suffering in torment and execution and the seal of God's graciousness in the resurrection ground a hope in human history that has empow-ered discipleship ever since. Remembrance of Jesus through the power of the Spirit guides and informs the life of prophecy and ~ontemplation in the church. This vision of a wholistic con-templative, prophetic shape to reli-gious life in the future, glimpsed in the literature, is already a living, growing reality in some cases. It also stands in contrast to the overall shape of religious life in the present, which has become domesticated by too close an identification with the law, structure, and spirituality of the institutional church. In a particularly eloquent argument, Diarmuid O'Murchu, taking a clue from reli-gious life as it is lived in Eastern religions, contends that religious life in the west needs to reclaim its liminal identity, a move of genuine conversion en.tailing profound change in spirit and structure. Re!igious would then be known as persons and communities who are in touch with the sacred, passionately committed to just and loving relationships, fiercely resistant against exploitation of the earth and of persons, and willing to live countercultural lifestyles with and for the marginalized. They would stand in church and society a.s liminal, archetypal, prophetic persons, articulating and empowering the deepest love.13 To arrive at this goal, religious must confront many chal-lenges and questions. A key CMSM paper muses: People in general probably do not think of us as genuine prophets. What must we do, what price must we pay, if we wish to embrace a prophetic stance? How can we be prophetic without becoming triumphalistic? How can we be prophetic without losing a ministry .to the middle class which is the social origin of nearly all of us? How can we learn to read the signs of the times and discern more surely the thrust of prophecy? What steps must we take to arrive at solid social and cultural analysis? How can we relate our The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but profoundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. ~anuary-February 1994 15 Johnson * Between the Times traditional institutions to the prophetic role? How can we motivate ourselves, with God's grace, to accept a materi-ally poor standard of living? We have more questions than answers, but we believe that we are on the way to a new, more prophetic presence within the U.S. Church.~4 The Futures Project identifies "fidelity to purpose" and "response to absolute human need" as the two most basic ele-ments for the revitalization of religious life. As this brief survey of the literature shows, the search for the sacred in resistance to what afflicts the world is being fingered as the purpose that will shape the new form of this life. The move toward a contemplative-prophetic stance augurs well for the future insofar as it grapples with the religious heart of the matter in the context of the suf-fering of the contemporary world. Experience of God My own reflection on these matters brings me to a founda-tional area not frequently mentioned in the literature, namely, the idea of God that undergirds the evangelical life. The fasci-nation with the mystery of God is endemic to religious life every-where and at all times. The varieties of structures and self-understandings that have emerged in the course of history only serve to underscore this fact. As Sandra Schneiders observes, "Whatever unites all these people is more interior and spiritual than forms of life or types of behavior."15 The common thread that unites them all is a search for relationship with the sacred, leading to a certain kind of absorption with the religious dimen-sion of life. "Those who are called 'religious' in the technical sense of the word," writes John Lozano, "have decided to adopt a way of life whose intrinsic, underlying explanation is religious experience.''16 This way of life intends to give daily, concrete expression to the experience of God, to empower its further devel-opment, and to manifest its fruits publicly. Put another way by Ladislaus Orsy, the only reason for religious life is the experi-ence of God. This being so, it seems vitally important to inquire about the idea of God that is presupposed at any given moment, for this structures the experience of God that sustains the entire endeavor. As the primary symbol of the whole religious system, the idea of God is a lodestar. It represents what a community takes to be the 16 Review for Religious highest good, the profoundest truth, the most appealing beauty. Thus it is not a neutral concept, but functions powerfully to shape the personal and corporate identity of believers. A religion, for example, which would speak about a warlike God and extol the way he smashes his enemies to bits would promote aggressive group behavior. By contrast, speech about a beneficent and lov-ing God who forgives offenses would turn the faith community toward care for the neighbor and mutual forgiveness.'7 By definition, the One whom people call God is the recipient of absolute human trust, God being "that to which your heart clings and entrusts itself" in the memorable phrase of Martin Luther (OSA).~s Consequently, the idea of God implicitly guides all of a person's and community's principles, choices, system of values, enterprises, and relationships. The symbol of God func-tions. Neither abstract in content nor feeble in its effect, it sums up a people's sense of ultimate mystery, the proper order of the world, and the right orientation of human life and devotion. Along with many others, I sense that a seismic shift is occur-ring in the experience and idea of God in our day and culture. Fully aware that not all people who live at the same time are con-temporaries, I nevertheless think that a certain culturally condi-tioned cast of mind is emerging in our era that yields an idea of God markedly different from the classical model. VChat is emerg-ing is a notion that coherently supports and strengthens prophetic and contemplative consciousness. Thus it is not just the move from a juridical to a pastoral relation of the church to the world, nor the dissolving of the sacred-secular dualism, nor increased global and ecological awareness, nor growing consciousness of injustice, nor any of the other ecclesial and social factors that alone or together are causing the changes in religious life. Rather, at the deepest level what is transpiring, I think, is new experience of God. The Postmodern World The contemporary mind-set in the United States shaped by conditions of the late twentieth century is frequently described as postmodern. First coined in artistic, literary, and philosophical circles, this term is used in a bewildering variety of ways to describe the sentiment that humanity must go beyond the mod-ern. Like the wanderer in Kafka's parable who, when asked where January-February 1994 17 Johnson * Between the Times he is riding to, responds, "I don't know,., only away from here, away from here, only by doing so can I reach my destination,''19. postmodernity points beyond the present to what cannot yet be readily envisioned. Philosopher Stephen Toulmin refers to the world "that has not yet discovered how to define itself in terms of what it is, but only in terms of what it hasjust-now-ceased-to-be," namely, the modern world originating from the seventeenth-cen-tury Enlightenment.2° Modern!ty esteemed at least four dynamic forces: the myth of unending progress, the clear and distinct ideas of universal reason, the power of the self-contained individual directed by his soli-tary ego, and the ascendancy of human control over nature. By contrast, postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected. Not everything originating in the modern era is to be discarded. One would want to keep the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality (fraternity in isolation is suspect). But postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away- From-Here. Perhaps the most felicitous description comes from David Power, who observes that postmodernism is the sensibility that does not try to pretend that the twentieth century has not hap-pened. Sprung from the disruptive, out-of-control evils of this century, postmodern consciousness is aware of the chaotic, con-tingent, threatened character of existence and the fragility of the human project. Two distinct but related positions have developed within this general description. One, the option for deconstruction, seeks to undo the power and securities that produce such evils. In theory and art it pokes holes through the rationalizations of the victors, unveiling their pretensions to righteousness and order. While in its extreme form postmodern deconstruction leads to radical skep-ticism and nihilism, its bracing insights are powerfully instruc-tive as to what should not be. In tandem with this option, a second, more constructive model has emerged. Suspicious of inherited triumphal truths, it seeks out suppressed voices and sto-ries, risking new interpretations of established tradition "from the margins" in order to enable resistance to the forces of destruc-tion. Its aim, unlike nihilism, is a more just and humane universe. 18 Review for Religious It is this latter type of constructive postmodernism, found in intellectual theory, literature, and art as well as in grass-roots movements, that generates a certain kind of spirituality.21 Its char-acteristics are painted here in broad strokes. Postmodern spiri-tuality notes the ambiguous character of progress itself and takes its bearing not from the dream of untrammeled, irreversible progress fueled by a consumerist mentality, but from the suffering of those on the underside of history, keeping in view the gaps and failures of human advance. It seeks wisdom not in the clear and distinct ideas of what is claimed to be universal reason but is in reality the thought of privileged men; rather, it honors the plurality and ambiguity of human con-sciousness, sensitive to the differ-ence that difference makes according to one's social location in gender, race, and class. The com-pass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individual-ism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community The compass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individualism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. It finds life not in human supremacy over the earth but in affective kinship with the extended family of the cosmos. In a word, it prizes not isolation but essential connectedness; not body-mind dualism but the wholistic, embodied person; not patriarchy but inclusive fem-inism; not militarism but expenditure for the enhancement of life; not tribal nationalism but global justice. Our age is witnessing the shift to a postmodern cast of values, in theory if not always in practice. This constitutes a widespread, if not universal, cultural phenomenon in the United States, even among Christian believers. It may well signal the first phase of an axial breakthrough in human consciousness that will shape the next millennium. If so, that is of no little significance for the future of religious life in this country. For the postmodern sensi-bility in its constructive form has a strong affinity with the prophetic-contemplative stance increasingly envisioned as con- January-February 1994 19 Johnson ¯ Between the Times stitutive for the future of religious life. At the very core of that life is the experience of God. And so we come to the heart of the matter by asking how the postmodern matrix shapes the experi-ence and concept of the sacred. Postmodern Experience of God In our era the concept of God developed by rational En-lightenment theology in the context of modernity has become largely unbelievable. Whether drawn from revelation or philo-sophical inference, this by-now-traditional theism views God as the Supreme Being who created all things and who governs all things with inscrutable providence. Perfect in a way that stands in sharp contrast to the finitude of creatures, "he" (the theistic God is always referred to in male terms) is "infinite, self-existent, incor-poreal, eternal, immutable, impassible, simple, perfect, omni-scient, and omnipotent.''22 Although architect and ruler of the world, it is essential to God's deity that he be essentially unre-lated to this world and unaffected by what happens in it. This view therefore excels at stressing ,divine transcendence and its human counterpart of spirit, while divine immanence along with the importance of matter and the body tend to slip from view. This God of classical theism is modeled on the pattern of an earthly absolute monarch, a metaphor so prevalent that most often it is simply taken.for granted. As a king rules over his subjects, so God the Lord has dominion over his creatures, a view which, as Sallie McFague has shown, is intrinsically hierarchical, whether the divine reign be accomplished through dominance or benevo-lence. 23 In theory such theism adheres to the truth that the mys-tery of God is beyond all images and concepts. Yet history shows how in practice modernity tends to objectify God, reducing infi-nite mystery to an independently existing Supreme Being along-side other beings, a solitary, transcendent power who together with the world can be thought to form a larger whole. This is the idea of God that is no longer seriously imagin-able within a postmodern sensibility. Factors that contribute to its lack of cogency include the evils of this century, contemporary science and its view of the universe, liberation and feminist anal-ysis, the political disparagement of dictatorship, and the encounter among world religions. Any one of these alone would put a large question mark next to the modern symbol of the divine. Taken 20 Review for Religious together within the cultural shift to postmodern consciousness, they all but bury it. The result for people of faith is the radical loss of their famil-iar God image, along with the experience of divine presence that it mediated. Along with this also comes the loss of their sense of place in the order of the universe. As Janet Ruffing comments on the domino effect of loss of the tradi-tional God image in religious communi-ties, "All the ways we had construed our place in the sun and the meaningfulness of our commitment have been gradually eroding.''24 But this experience is not restricted to religious life; it is culture-wide and has attracted a host of com-mentators. For Martin Buber, the loss signals the eclipse of God. For Karl Rahner, it involves entry into the spiri-tuality of a bleaker season. For Constance Fitzgerald, it means the classic mystical experience of impasse and dark night. For Sandra Schneiders, this dark night is not only individual but a corporate purification. For Martin Marry, winter serves as metaphor for this season of the heart. For Michael Bucldey, it is entry into emptiness, silence, the cross in accord with the dynamic of apophatic mysticism,zs For me, this shift is poignantly summed up in the titles of the first and last books of my friend and colleague William Hill OP, now seriously ill. He broke into print with Knowing the Unknown God, an exploration of how the Thomistic category of analogy could lead the mind to God even in the contemporary world. God might be unknown, but we were possessed of some knowl-edge through the judgments we make. Now his recent essays have been collected under the rubric In Search of the Absent God. We are not in possession at all. Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God.26 The absence of God experienced through the breakdown of traditional mediations of structure and theory does not mean, how-ever, that there is no experience of God at all. In a profound dialec-tic, what has been taken away is encountered in the ache of its loss. Divine absence itself becomes a mode of divine presence. The unknowing beckons to a deeper knowing. Th~ darkness mediates a brightness that the eyes cannot see. The wintry horizon hints at Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God. .~anuary-February 1994 21 Johnson ¯ Between the Times new life buried beneath the snow. The cry from the depths signals an affirmation of Life deeper than pain, as did Jesus' cry from the cross. As Maura Clarke wrote from E1 Salvador, "In the very absence of God here, God has never been more present to me." 27 It all depends on the character of God. If God be trustworthy, then we hope that we are grounded and enveloped by a Living Presence even here, in the night of the senses and of the spirit. While there is no universal enactment of salvation, the sacred comes in the form of promise mediated through everyday, small fragments of healing, beauty, liberation, justice, and love. This does not remove the darkness, but it allows us to keep on walk-ing. The ice melts but will freeze again: in history there are only relative victories. Lament and celebration are both necessary. Here there are no easy assurances, no props. We know God through hope and, in the face of starkness, even hope against hope, nourished by remembrance and the circle of community. For many years now I have found the prophet of this experi-ence to be Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In his vision God is being edged out of the world and onto the cross, and that is the way, the only way, that God can be with us: "only a suffering God can help.''28 His struggle to believe culminates in the maxim "Before God and with God we live without God.'':9 This is an experience of God in which darkness is an event of disclosure, clearing the decks of a false conception of God and opening contact with the incom-prehensible holy mystery of God who goes beyond all images, all grasping, all ~elling. The manageable God of the modern age who was immediately available and could be counted upon to intervene for our benefit is no longer there. But a new experience of God is already breaking through that intensifies our compassion. Constance Fitzgerald has wisely observed that what is going on in and through this experience is "a progressive hermeneutic of~e nature of God.''3° A full theology of God has yet to be writ-ten in a postmodern context, but the typical spii'itual experience of this age is yielding an unmistakable interpretation.3~ If there be a God at all, then this is absolute holy mystery that can never be fathomed. Not literally a male person writ large, the sacred can be pointed to by any created good: male, female, animal, cosmic. This mystery does not dwell in isolation from the world but encompassesit as the Matrix of its being and becoming. God in the world and the world in God--panentheism describes the mutual relation. Thus related, the Holy One of Blessing is a God 22 Review.for Religious of pathos who participates in the suffering of the world in order to transform it from within. Divine power is the strength of love, rather than raw, monarchical omnipotence. Passionate for justice and peace and compassionate over pain, Holy Wisdom typically self-reveals in the fragmentary breakthroughs of well-being that come about through human partnership with divine purpose. Forever God acts to create a fresh, new future: liberation is her signature deed. A God like this calls for an ethic of critical com-passion. We are impelled so to utter the word of God that the world will be changed and renewed by it. Religious people of all stripes are now in the transitional posi-tion of trying to find words and symbols for this personal and collective experience of God. A common language has yet to come to light. Yet the very way the search is being conducted gives some indication of the outcome. An LCWR paper expresses the efforts of women religious in this regard: God is immanent in creation, in the midst of the web of life. As we bond with the oppressed and marginalized, we know God standing on the side of the poor and oppressed, seeing with the eyes of the poor, leading the oppressed by alleviating oppression. In this context, we see God angry, sad, suffering, marginalized; we see God incarnated in peo-ples of color, in women, in the homeless and battered, the victims of violence and oppression of all kinds. And then the inevitable: Religious find themselves in a "Dark Night." The painful and intense moments of disintegration, which carry the hope for what can break through, characterize our living in this in-between.32 To sum up, the idea of God emerging in postmodern spiritual experience is a contemporary hermeneutic of the God whose reign Jesus preached and embodied: the God of life. If the experience of God is the core of religious life, and if it is this God who is being perceived in contemporary religious experience, then here is a key tt)eological factor shaping the future of religious life in the United States. Conclusion The dialectic between divine absence and presence, in the last analysis, is an experience of the Spirit of God: radically tran- ~tanlmry-February 1994 23 Johnson ¯ Between the Times scendent, like the wind blowing where it will; and at the same time radically immanent, dwelling at the heart of the world to vivify and renew all things. Empowered by the Spirit in our age, people of faith who treasure the living memory of Jesus seek the hidden God of life (contemplation) and live out the passion of God for the world in need (prophecy). It is my sense that religious life is riding the crest of this wave in the postmodern culture of the United States. Internally its forms are breaking down; its interpretive support systems are col-lapsing; rifts with the institutional church exacerbate the dark-ness, especially among women; many members are in distress. Most radically of all, forms of religious life that traditionally medi-ated the experience of God now not only do not mediate this experience but positively block it. At the same time, consciousness of the suffering of poor and marginalized peoples grows; action on behalf of justice continues to attract; women reclaim their human dignity and the voice that goes with it; the vivifying power of God is experienced in and through the human power to chal-lenge, cherish, and set free; the divine mystery is named in new ways. Here and there religious persons and communities begin to articulate the prophetic-contemplative identity coherent with these experiences and act in mission accordingly. For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. In my judgment, the times do not call for return to the securities of a previous age. In fact, the very effort to keep alive forms of religious life that have for the most part run their historical course may well be counterproductive to the evangelical following of Jesus. Rather,what is needed is vig-ilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evangelical life will develop. Notes ~ See summary by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. Hereafter cited as the Futures Project. Also in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. 2 1 would like to thank the following colleagues and friends for pro-viding me with materials for this essay: Mary Ann Donovan SC, Patricia Lucas CSJ, Thomas McKenna CM, Janet Ruffing SM, and Clara Santoro CSJ. My deep gratitude also goes to Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, John W. Padberg SJ, David Power OMI, and Sandra Schneiders IHM for read-ing and critiquing the manuscript in outline or finished form. 24 Review for Religious 3 Among the works that have made significant contributions are: Gerald Arbuclde, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist, 1988). ~. Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1987). Marcello Azevedo, Vocation for Mission: The Challenge of Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1988). Leonardo Boll, God's Witnesses in the Heart of tbe World (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1981). Lawrence Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury, 1979). Robert Daly et al., eds., Religious Life in the U.S. Church: The New Dialogue (New York: Paulist, 1984). Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990). David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads (New York: Paulist, 1985). Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). John Lozano, Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of Religious Life (Chicago: CCRS, 1983). ¯ Life as Parable: Reinterpreting the Religious Life (New York: Paulist, 1986)¯ Johannes Baptist Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist, 1978). Diarmuid O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991). Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1986). Jean Marie Tillard, A Gospel Path: Religious Life (Brussels: Lumen Vitae, 1975)¯ The Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): "Religious Life in Transition," pp. 1-152. Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist, 1991). Evelyn Woodward, Poets, Prophets and Pragmatists: A New Challenge To Religious Life (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). 4 Works include: Mary Ann Donovan, Sisterhood as Power: The Past and Passion of, Ecclesial Women (New York: Crossroad, 1989). Nadine Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth: Reflections on Identity by United States Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1988). January-February 1994 25 Johnson * Between the Times Marie Augusta Neal, Catholic Sisters in Transition: Front the 1960s to the 1980s (Wilmington, Delaware: Glazier, 1984). --. From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Ann Patrick Ware, ed., Midwives of the Futttre (Kansas City, Missouri: Leaven Press, 1985). s "Hope-Filled Deeds and Critical Thought: The Experience of American Male Religious and Their Need to Reflect on It," paper pre-pared for the Third Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 20- 50; John W. O'Malley, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49 (1988): 223-257. The dearth of works in this category is due, I think, to the fact that for most men authors until recently, male experience, given its normative status in church and society, is simply presumed. Thus gendered experience has not become a major category of interpre-tation as it has among women. 6 L. Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, is the ground-breaking study that brought the notion of cycles to present-day awareness. See the excellent fine-tuning of this thesis b~; Philip Sheldrake, "Revising Historical Perspectives," The \¥ay Supplement 65 (summer 1989): pp. 66- 77. 7 Here I have found the following particularly helpful: Howard Gray, "Shapes for the Fut.ure," pp. 289-295, and Helen Flaherty, "Religious Life in the U.S.--A Guess at the Future," pp. 296-309, in R. Daly, Religious Life in the U.S.; Anne Clifford, "Women Missioned in a Technological Culture," pp. 37-55, in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth; the address by Robert Schreiter, "The Environment of Religious Life in 2010," to CMSM/LCWR Assembly in Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989; and the videotape "Religious Life: The Constant Is Change," IHM Sisters, Monroe, Michigan, which is an analysis of societal trends by Amata Miller, Margaret Brennan, and Sandra Schneiders. 8 See Anne Carr, Transfo~wting Grace: Christian Tradition and I, Vomen's Experience (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988). 9 Joint Meeting of the CMSM and the Lcv~rR, Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989. ,0 Karl Rahner, "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," Theological Investigations, vol. 20, Concern for the Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 145. ~ One of the best contemporary treatises on contemplation remains William Johnston, The Inner Eye of Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978); and on prophecy, Walter Bruggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978). 26 Revieva for Religious 12 E. Schillebeeckx, Christ: The Experience of Jesus as Lord (New York: Seabury, 1980), p. 821. ,3 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision, passim. ,4 "Pilgrims and Prophets," paper drawn up by the Religious Life and Ministry Committee of the CMSM for the Fourth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in D. A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 51-64; quotation at p. 57. is S. Schneiders, New Wineskins, p. 32. 16 j. Lozano, Life as Parable, p. 9. 17 See Gordon Kaufman, The Theological Imagination: Constructing the Concept of God (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), pp. 187-189. Kaufmann argues here for the importance of the great symbol of Jesus Christ who, as the image of the invisible God, manifests a God who does not act in a violent way but rather creates a community of love and equality in a peaceable and free way. !8 Martin Luther, "Large Catechism," The Book of Concord (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959), p. 365. 19 Franz Kafka, "My Destination," Parables and Paradoxes (Berlin: Schocken, 1975), p. 189. I am indebted for this reference to Catherine Keller, "Toward a Postpatriarchal Postmodernity," in David Griffin, ed., Spirituality and Society: Postmodern Visions (Albany: State University of New York, 1988), p. 65. 20 S. Toulmin, The Return to Cosmology: Postmodern Science and the Theology of Nature (Berkeley: University of California, 1982), p. 254. For further descriptions of postmodernity, see Frederic Burnham, ed., Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989); and Paul Lakeland, Theology and Critical Theory (Nashville: Abingdon, 1990), chap. 7, "Catholicism and Postmodernity." 21 The essays in the Griffin collection are enlightening, especially his own "Introduction: Postmodern Spirituality and Society," pp. I-31. 22 H. P. Owen, Concepts of Dei~y (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), p. 1. 23 Sallie McFague, Models of God: Theology for an Ecological, Nuclear Age (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), pp. 63-69. 24 Janet Ruffing, "Seeing in the Dark: The Present Moment in Religious Life," address to regional meeting of LCWR, Sparkill, New York, September 1991, p. 10. This address, somewhat edited, appears in Review for Religious 51, no. 2 (March-April 1992): 236-248. 2s M. Buber, The Eclipse of God (New York: Harper and Row, 1952); K. Rahner, see note 10; C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," in Tilden Edwards, ed., Living with Apocalypse: Spiritual Resources for Social Compassion (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 93-116; S. Schneiders, see video-tape, note 7; M. Marry, A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983); Michael Bucldey, "Atheism and Contemplation," Theological Studies 40 (1979): 680-699. January-February 1994 27 Johnson ¯ Between the Times 26 William J. Hill, Knowing the Unknown God (New York: Philosophical Library, 1971), and In Search of the Absent God, Mary Catherine Hilkert, ed. (New York: Crossroad, 1992). 27 Quoted in Mary Catherine Hilkert, "The Experience of Impasse and the Roots of Wisdom," address to Dominican Leadership Conference, October 1991, p. 11. 28 D. Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: Macmillan, 1953), letter of 16 July 1944, p. 220. 29 Ibid, p. 219. 30 C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," p. 112. 31 For a profound analysis see Peter Hodgson, God in History: Shapes of Freedom (Abingdon: Nashville, 1989); and Wendy Farley, Tragic Vision and Divine Compassion: A Contemporary Theodicy (Louisville: Westminster, 1990). 32 "Reflections upon the Religious Life of U.S. Women Religious," paper prepared for the Fifth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life, 1985, and printed in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Tmtth," pp. 173-181; quotation at p. 177. Cana, Meaning Uncertain Wine flowed until there was no more at a wedding in Galilee; Mary, seeing this, turned to her son, one till then like any other, a brother, a carpenter who measured what he said and did. "They have no more wine," she said. He hesitated, questioned her, stirred up feelings between them. In the end Jesus acquiesced, six stone jars, water into wine, a fine line crossed, spirit revealed. Yet the uncertainty remains, was it not a mother's prompting that disrupted heaven's intent or is love so strong even God can be swayed by its openness? Neil C. Fitzgerald 28 Review for Religious JAN P. SCHOTTE The Consecrated Life in Church and World: Toward the Synod On 30 December 1991 the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, called for the gathering in autumn 1994 of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops to treat the topic: "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." But what exactly is a synod of bishops? What are the various theological elements connected with this institu-tion? What are its pastoral aspects? Practically speaking, how does the synodal process work? And in what way does the treatment of specific topics bring benefit to the whole church? toward the synod A Synod of Bishops Etymologically speaking, the term "synod," derived from the elision of two Greek words, syn meaning "together" and hodos meaning "road" or "way," literally means "together on the way" or "sharing a journey." This idea immediately calls to mind the Vatican II image of the church as the people of God "on the move," always on pilgrimage, led and guided by the Holy Spirit through history to its ultimate fulfillment when the Lord shall Jan P. Schotte CICM serves as the general secretary of the Synod of Bishops. This presentation of his to the May 1993 Meeting of the International Union of Superiors General in Rome was orig-inally published in the UISG Bulletin, no. 92, 1993, pp. 68-78. Bishop Schotte may be addressed at Office of the General Secretary; Piazza Pio XII, 3; 00193 Rome; Italy. January-February 1994 29 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church come again (see Lumen gentium, §6). The term also calls to mind some biblical associations. For example, in John's Gospel Jesus calls himself the "Way" (see Jn 14:6), and St. Paul makes reference to Christianity as the "Way" (see Ac 22:4). The term's rich theological and biblical associations can be saidto culminate in the concept of the church as communion. As quoted in Cbristifideles laici, "communion speaks of a double, life-giving participation: the incorporation of Christians into the life of Christ, and the communication of that life of charity to the entire body of the faithful, in this world and in the next, union with Christ and in Christ, and union among Christians in the church." Therefore, "communion" should not be looked upon as something static, but an active and dynamic reality which is both a hallmark of the church and the divine force continually enliven-ing her. This mystery of the church's communion is reflected in an unlimited number of ways in the church's life, from its most sub-lime aspect in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, to the var-ious encounters both personal and communal experienced by Christians everywhere. One instrument for celebrating the communal nature of the church on the local level is through archdiocesan and diocesan synods, which are becoming more frequent an occurrence. In convoking such a synod, a local bishop gathers around himself, as the source and foundation of communion or unity in his partic-ular church, various representatives of the church community-- lay, clerical, and religious--to pray and reflect in common and, using the eternal truths of the faith as set forth in the teachings of the church, to seek pastoral approaches and solutions to living the Christian life as a community and as individuals. The church's communal nature on the particular and univer-sal level also exists in the authority over the church which was established by Christ and subordinated to the task of preaching the gospel (see LG, §20 and §21). Therefore, where the synod of bishops uses the same word as that applied to celebrating the communal nature of the particular church, there is a basic theo-logical difference. The synod of bishops celebrates the mystery of church communion on the hierarchical level, that is, among the bishops. The Second Vatican Council describes this unity in the fol-lowing manner: "Just as, in accordance with the Lord's decree, 30 Review for Religious St. Peter and the rest of the apostles constitute a unique apos-tolic college, so in like fashion the Roman pontiff, Peter's suc-cessor, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are related with and united to one another'~ (LG, §22). This fundamental unity of the episcopate is the basis for the teaching on the collegiality of bishops (see LG, §22 and §23), which is like-wise an essential element in understanding the synod of bishops. The highest and fullest expression of this mystery of hierarchical communion is manifested and celebrated in an ecumenical council where the whole .episcopal college is convoked by the Holy Father. On various occasions the doc-uments of the Second Vatican Council refer to the episcopal gathering as a "synod" (see LG, §54; Christus Dominus, §36; etc.). But in this sense the word has the same meaning and theological significance as "council." Where the "synod of bishops" might resemble a "minicoun-cil," there is a fundamental qualitative difference between the two. For example, a synod convenes only a representative por-tion of the world episcopate, and unlike an ecumenical council, the synod of bishops is convened by the Holy Father for consulta-tive and not deliberative purposes. Nevertheless, despite the dif-ferences, "the synod of bishops," according to the Holy Father, "expresses collegiality in a highly ifitense way." The institution of the synod over twen.ty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. Pope Paul VI on 15 September 1965 in the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, establishing the synod of bishops, used these words: "With the aim of providing for a continuance after the council of the great abundance of benefits that we have been so happy to see flow to the Christian people during the time of the council as a result of our close collaboration with the bishops [and] because The institution of the synod over twenty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. January-February 1994 31 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church of our esteem and regard for all the Catholic bishops and with the aim of providing them with abundant means for greater and more effective participation in our concern for the universal church, on our own initiative and by our apostolic authority we hereby erect and establish here in Rome a permanent council of bishops for the universal church, to be directly and immediately subject to our power." Much more than a structure inspired by the Second Vatican Council, the synod of bishops has proven itself to be an apt instru-ment for the implementation of conciliar doctrine and the appli-cation of its pastoral directives. At the same time it has also been the forum for the interpretation and further development of the teachings and spirit of the council. An Instrument of Continuous Pastoral Renewal Though each session is called to respond to unique pastoral situations, no synod is ever an isolated event, but has a relation to other synodal gatherings. Because each synod calls together a representative portion of the episcopate with its head the pope, each synod has a relation to the whole church. At the same time, because the synod is a unique response of the episcopal college to the mandate or mission entrusted to it by the Savior, each synod has a relation to the fundamental salvific mission of the church through history as well. A brief look at the various synods which have taken place to date is evidence enough of the importance of these episcopal gatherings for the church and their value in bring-ing about the reforms intended by the council. Pope Paul VI stated the goals for the First Ordinary General Assembly, held in the fall of 1967: "the preservation and the strengthening of the Catholic faith, its integrity, its force, its development, its doctrinal and historical coherence." One result of this meeting was the eventual establishment of the International Commission of Theologians to assist the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and to broaden a discussion on approaches to theological research. The same assembly provided the stimu-lus for the 1983 publication of the revised Code of Canon Law and also made recommendations to the Holy Father on various pastoral questions. Two years later, in 1969, the First Extraordinary General Assembly was convoked to seek and examine ways and means of 32 Review for Religious putting into practice the collegiality of bishops with the pope. This meeting opened the door to greater collegiality in the pas-toral care of the universal church and in episcopal conferences and the relations between individual bishops. In 1971 the Second Ordinary General Assembly treated two subjects: "The Ministerial Priesthood" and "Justice in the World." In the former, treatment was centered on the theological nature of the priesthood with the intention of addressing certain diffi-culties experienced by priests in the course of their ministry. On the subject of justice, the bishops stated the need to relate the gospel to existing worldwide and local circumstances. "Evangelization in the Modern World" occupied the work of the Third Ordinary General Assembly held in 1974. At this assem-bly the bishops reemphasized the essential missionary character of the church and the duty of each member to bear wimess to Christ in the world. The bishops' recommendations and proposals sub-mitted to the pope were used in the formulation of the apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi. At the Fourth Ordinary General Assembly, which took place three years later, in 1977, the discussion of the bishops centered on "Catechesis in Our Times," with special attention given to the teaching of the faith to children and young people. Shortly after the synod, Pope John Paul II issued the apostolic exhortation Catecbesi tradendae, which utilized a great many of the bishops' insights and proposals. The First Special Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as "The Dutch Synod," was convoked in 1980 to examine more thoroughly the teachings of the Second Vatican Council on the mystery of church communion and its practical implications on the universal and local level, and the figure of the bishop and his ministry. In this way the synod sought at that time to address its designated topic, "The Pastoral Situation in Holland." The Fifth Ordinary General Assembly in 1980 reaffirmed the church's teaching on the family, in particular defending marriage and the contents of Humanae vitae. From the discussion and the proposals of the assembly, the pope issued the apostolic exhorta-tion Familiaris consortio. In 1983 the Sixth Ordinary General Assembly, held during a specially called Holy Year commemorating the 1950th year of Redemption, appropriately discussed the need of applying the fruits of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection to the individ- January-February 1994 33 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal. ual and society. The bishops' work during the synod served as the basis for the apostolic exhortation Reconciliatio et paenitentia, which for the first time was designated a "postsynodal" docu-ment. The Second Extraordinary General Assembly in 1985 com-memorated the "Twentieth Anniversary of the Conclusion of the Second Vatican Council" and assessed the state of church renewal according to conciliar teachings. The recently published Catechism of the Catholic Church was the result of a proposal by the bishops at this episcopal assembly. "The Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World" was the topic chosen for the Seventh Ordinary General Assembly in 1987. Through a con-sideration of vocation and mission in the context of church commu-nion, the bishops sought to empha-size the distinctive nature of the lay faithful in the church's life and her work of evangelization in the world. The fifty-four proposals of this assembly were used in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhortation Christifideles laici. In 1990 the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly again took up the subject of priesthood. However, where in 1971 the bishops focused on the theological nature of priesthood and its implica-tions, this assembly's attention was more pastoral in tone, cen-tering. upon priestly formation and the "person" of the priest himself-both religious and diocesan--before and after ordination. The forty-one proposals from this assembly were used by the Holy Father in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhor-tation, Pastores dabo vobis. The Special Assembly for Europe was called in the follow-ing year, 1991, to help discern the kairos of the situation on the European continent created by the historic fall of communism and to consider the role of the church in the various programs of renewal and construction. 34 Review for Religious In preparation are two other special assemblies. In his recent apostolic visitation to Africa last February, the Holy Father announced, in conjunction with the release of the assembly's Instrumenturn laboris, that this special assembly will take place in Rome in 1994, just after Easter. In March the Lineamenta of the special assembly for Lebanon was published, initiating the con-sultation phase of the preparation for that synod. These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal, giving opportunity through prayer and reflection to deepen a sense of the church's mission and to stimulate all the people of God to participate in this mission, each according to his or her state. Perhaps our under-standing of the synod of bishops can be further enhanced by fol-lowing the synod process which has taken place thus far in the preparation for the 1994 synod on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The 1994 Synodal Process The principles governing the synod of bishops and the synodal process are set forth in three basic documents: the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo of Pope Paul VI establishing the synod; Ordo synodi episcoporum celebrandae, or the Constitutions of the Synod of Bishops; and the Code of Canon Law, canons 342 to 348 inclusive. For the purpose of our presentation I will limit myself to those aspects of the process which immediately affect the synod topic, its documentation, and the various preparatory phases leading to the synodal gathering. Before the conclusion of the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, the synod fathers were asked to elect from their number, according to synod regulations, the required fifteen-member council to assist the general secretary in the follow-up work of the assembly and to work on the prepa-ration of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. At the same time the synod fathers were invited to make suggestions on a topic to be treated at the next general assembly. There is a certain value to this initial exchange on the topic during the general assembly because the responses are spontaneous and unprepared. In making their suggestions the bishops were asked to keep in mind the following general criteria in selecting a synodal topic: (1) January-February 1994 35 Sctsotte ¯ Tlse Consecrated Life in rise Church that the topic have a universal character, that is, a reference and application to the whole church; (2) that the topic have a con-temporary character and a certain urgency, that is, have the capa-bility of exciting new energies and movement in the church towards growth; (3) that the topic have a pastoral focus and appli-cation as well as a firm doctrinal basis; and (4) that treatment of the topic be feasible, in other words, that it have the potential actually to be accomplished. In retrospect it is interesting to note that even in the initial consultation during the synod itself a con-vergence of ideas was evident regarding the treatment of some aspect of the consecrated life. Shortly after the conclusion of the general assembly, the gen-eral secretariat continued the consultation process by preparing a letter with the above criteria and sending it to the patriarchates, bishops' conferences, heads of offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General--the normal participants in the synod process. This communication requested the submission of three topics in order of preference. The suggestions coming from this consultation were then analyzed and discussed by the members of council of the general secretariat at one of its regularly sched-uled meetings, and a series of formulations of the theme in order of preference was submitted to the Holy Father. Until now the Holy Father has always selected the council's first choice, con-vinced that the consultation process provides a true indication of the desire of the universal church to treat a given subject. Such was the case for the topic of the 1994 synod. The general consultation process revealed a remarkable con-vergence of ideas indicating a preference for the topic of the con-secrated life. Initially some persons made a rather shallow interpretation to explain the choice, insisting that since the laity and the priesthood were treated in the two previous synodal assemblies, it was only logical that the consecrated life should receive attention. The truth of the matter is that in the course of the consultation a great number of reasons were given for calling a synod to treat the topic of the consecrated life. Many argued in the following manner. 1) With the importance of the consecrated life in the church today, there is necessity to reaffirm its true nature in various new social contexts and in the world at large. 2) The flourishing of vocations in some parts of the world 36 Review for Religious and the crisis of vocations in others requires a thorough exami-nation of the consecrated life. 3) After the Second Vatican Council, various efforts have been made to rewrite constitutions, to propose anew the charism of the founder, and so forth, and consecrated life in general has been subject to an overall renewal. Therefore, the time seems right to engage in an evaluative process. 4) The question of the relationship of those in consecrated life to bishops deserves renewed consideration as well as the sub-ject of the greater participation of women and men religious in the overall pastoral plan of a diocese, particularly in light of the unique charism proper to each. Where the document Mutuae relationes has been fruitful and productive on the whole, certain episcopal con-ferences have given indications that there remain some areas still needing attention. 5) The new forms of consecrated life appearing in many parts of the church require evaluation and proper guidance. The nature of religious institutes, secular institutes, and the societies of apos-tolic life needs to be clarified and their role in the church more clearly defined. Many of the new forms of unions and confrater-nities are appearing with the false notion that they are part of the consecrated life according to the evangelical counsels. 6) Some developments and interpretations have caused the common life for religious to be questioned. In some countries there are situations which deserve attention. 7) The prophetic character of consecrated life in certain cir-cumstances needs to be more clearly defined. How is a person in the consecrated life to respond in faithfulness to his or her voca-tion in the face of secularization, the crisis in culture, and the decline in moral values? 8) In some countries religious congregations have abandoned the work proper to them in favor of individual attempts at apos-tolic work. Such a situation raises the concern of religious con-gregations as well as bishops, requiring them to seek the proper pastoral approach to such situations. The above sampling of reasons underlying the choice of topic for the 1994 synod sufficiently indicates its universal appeal, pas-toral relevance, timely character, and feasibility. At the same time, it can be seen that they have a general inter-est for the entire church. In virtue of the church's unity, every part and every member will be affected by the exchange and out- January-Fetrruary 1994 37 Schotte * The Consecrated Life in the Church come. In this sense the synod will not simply treat a topic, but make suggestions to the Holy Father regarding the future. What does the consecrated life have in store for the future? How are those in consecrated life to live out their consecration in the apos-tolic mission of the church? What courageous and bold steps are required to meet the unique challenges made on consecrated life by the present state of affairs in the church and society? Before these questions can be faced by the bishops in syn-odal assembly, the church at large will have time to reflect on them and other aspects of the topic and be invited to make their observations known through the proper channels so that those required to make official responses on the topic to the general secretariat will have current information with which to work. The 1994 Lineamenta The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. We logically pause to devote some time to explaining the Lineamenta document, the present stage of preparation for the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. After the Holy Father's choice of topic, the council of the general secretariat at a regularly scheduled meeting held a roundtable discussion with the secretary of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and with representatives from the various groups associated with con-secrated life, that is, women and men religious, members of sec-ular institutes, and members of the international organizations of consecrated life in the church, namely, the Union of Superiors General for Men and the International Union of Women Superiors as well as the International Congress of Secular Institutes. The observations resulting from this meeting were fur-ther discussed and developed in subsequent council meetings, and with the help of theologians an outline and texts of the Lineamenta were drafted and studied, before a definitive text was submitted to the Holy Father. As its Latin name suggests, the Lineamenta is an "outline" or general presentation of the synod topic followed by a series of questions intended to direct the prayer and reflection of the whole church on the subject. The information resulting from this stage will provide the raw material for the synod's Instrumentum laboris 3 8 Review for Religious or "working document," intended to present a composite picture of the present situation and prevailing attitudes in the church on consecrated life and its role in the church and in the world. The Lineamenta document is divided into three major parts, each treating a specific aspect of the topic: (1) "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life"; (2) "The Consecrated Life in the church and in the World of Today"; and (3) "The Role of Consecrated Life." The document's initial pages immediately address the prob-lem of terminology. Strictly speaking, the term "consecrated life" in Canon Law refers to religious con-gregations and secular institutes only. What, then, is to be done with soci-eties of apostolic life? Since canon 731, § 1, states that the societies of apostolic life are "comparable to the institutes of consecrated life," it was agreed that the synod topic would also include their treatment. Therefore, when the term is used in the Lineamenta, it is meant to be all-inclusive. After a brief introduction, Part I begins with an explanation of the essential characteristics of the conse-crated life, namely, vocation, conse-cration, mission, the evangelical counsels, the common life, eschato-logical witness, its essential values, and the commitment to the spiritual life. The section then proceeds to speak of the charismatic nature of the consecrated life, as wit-nessed in its variety of charisms and multiplicity of forms. In this regard attention is given to the charism of the founder or foundress, the various forms of consecrated life, institutes of con-templative life, brothers, secular institutes, societies of a.postolic life, and the new forms of consecrated life emerging today. The second part of the document describes the present situ-ation of the consecrated life in the church and in today's world, seeking on this basis to suggest various subtopics which merit consideration, for example, the direction to be taken by the con-secrated life with the approach of the third millennium, the fruits of renewal, new values and aspects of the consecrated life, nega- The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. Jam~ary-February 1994 39 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church tive aspects (even these must be addressed), the necessity of a clear witness in responding to the challenges of modern society, and finally the situation in various countries and cultures (Africa and Asia come especially to mind). This section ends with a call to those in consecrated life to continue the renewal begun after the Second Vatican Council. The third section speaks in practical terms of the role of the consecrated life in the church and society, beginning with a pre-sentation on the ecclesial dimensions of the consecrated life, its relation to the church hierarchy, its coordinating structures in fostering communion, its place on the level of the local church, and its communion with the lay faithful. With this in mind, var-ious topics related to the role of the consecrated life within the universal church community are treated, including the new evan-gelization, authentic apostolic creativity, acceptance of the call to evangelization, remaking the fabric of society, promoting the unity of all the baptized, and the dialogue with followers of other religions. The concluding portion of Part III turns its attention to the church's mission in the world, emphasizing features associ-ated with the consecrated life, for example, its specific witness to God's love through the works of mercy; its attention to young people and their needs; its presence in schools, hospitals, and social programs; its dedication to work on behalf of the poor; its role--past and present--in the transmission and formation of cul-ture; and its part in the church's work of safeguarding the values of nature and conscience in today's world. The closing pages of the Lineamenta then offe~ a brief look at Mary as the model and mother of the consecrated life and a reflec-tion on the consecrated life in terms of a renewed presence of Christ in the world of today. The presentation concludes with a section containing the document's endnotes, followed by a table of contents. Incorporated in the Lineamenta text and appearing at the con-clusion of each section is a series of twenty-five consecutively numbered questions which are meant to focus the prayer and dis-cussion of the universal church on various aspects of the synod topic. At the same time, these questions and numbers are to pro-vide an orderly structure for the responses from various individ-uals and church bodies which will be formulated and submitted in the lively exchange on all levels of the church community dur-ing the consultation period. 40 Review for Religious Official responses are expected to be filed with the general secretariat by those normally involved in the consultation pro-cess, that is, patriarchates, episcopal conferences, offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General for Men. Given the synod topic, the International Union of Women Superiors and the International Congress for Secular Institutes are also to submit responses. All responsible for such responses are to work on the best possible manner of facilitating the reading of the document by individuals and groups associated with them, and of seeking information from them so that the responses may be truly complete and reflect the richness of the exchange on the various levels of the local church community. With the publication of the Lineamenta on 20 November 1992, a significant and important stage in the preparation for this synodal assembly was initiated. I would even go so far as to say a most critical phase, because the richness and depth of the Instrumentum laboris, the reference point and source of discus-sion during the actual synodal assembly, depends on the widespread participation of the whole church and a thorough-ness in answering the series of questions posed in the Lineamenta. For this reason, it is incumbent upon each individual in the church, no matter what his or her state or circumstance, to con-tribute through the accustomed channels in this presynodal prepa-ration period, thereby providing the necessary information which will be eventually used in the official responses to be sent to the general secretariat. From my experience over the years I am becoming more aware and convinced of the very real contribution and impact of synodal assemblies in the life of the church. These beneficial results come about not simply from a month-long meeting, but from the whole synodal process, from the consultation regard-ing the theme, the prayer and reflection period, the actual cele-bration of the synod, and its follow-up. Not only do the reflection and prayer which are a part of the Lineamenta phase assist in setting the agenda in the Instrumentum laboris or "working paper," but the process itself taps and exer-cises the dynamism of church communion in the listening, shar-ing, and stirring up of new energies on various levels of the church community. And after the synodal assembly, where there is a con-centrated effort at intensely living the communion which has come beforehand, the effects make themselves felt years later. January-February 1994 41 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church The Lineamenta itself makes reference to this fact when it states that the occasion of this synod will provide the opportunity for "all members of the church, particularly the institutes of con-secrated life, to reconsider the subject of their own renewal in light of the challenges and the opportunities of the present moment," based on the church's appeal in these days "for a renewed endeavor towards evangelical life, towards a profound spirituality, and towards a generous presence in the new evange-lization" (§33). This time of synodal preparation, then, is an occa-sion for hope, a hope that this profound examination of the status of renewal and the prospects for future growth of the consecrated life in all its aspects will be a moment of grace and revitalization, and bring great benefits to all those in consecrated life and to the church as a whole. Message from a Coreopsis Lanceolata (Daisies Do Tell) Some of us are past our prime, And one of us has lost a few petals; Another--will never see the sun. Yet we all rejoice That we reflect our Maker And celebrate a loving God Who signs each one of us With his own life's Blood. Joann Stuever, ASC postulant 42 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Charism, Charisms, and Faddism d sexagenarian religious superior who keeps abreast of the times asked me if I had read the recent document on reli-gious life produced by the council of the General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops. I said yes, adding hesitantly: "But it is not very interesting." Without hesitation she agreed completely. The Point of Departure: The Lineamenta Surely the Lineamenta, the preliminary agenda on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World" prepared in view of the forthcoming Ninth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, is not a particularly charismatic piece of writing. After all, it is not from the pen of a theologian like Rahner, or a biblicist like Elsa Tamez, or a feminist like Ruether, or a third-world figure like Amalorpavadass, or a cardinal like Martini. On the contrary, it is an official document with its strengths and weaknesses, treating the topic "in a complete organic manner, indicating the topic's precise content and its necessary limits''1 and touching upon "only the essential points of doctrine" (§4).2 As such, therefore, it would read somewhat like a protocol without the charismatic cadence or resonance of your fa~,orite author. However, considering that the document is the product of the pastoral office of the church, we would not be wrong if we rec-ognized in it the charismatic teaching included by Paul in his lists A. Paul Dominic SJ can be addressed at Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. .~anuary-Felrruary 1994 43 Dominic * Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism of charisms. And so what it says about religious life as a charism that includes many a charism can serve for our mental nourish-ment and impart to us a spiritual gift (Rm 1:11). It can set us thinking about religious life as a matter of charismatic experi-ence, that is, an experience of living a fundamental charism through as many different charisms as there are societies of"con-secrated" or "apostolic" life. Any serious reflection on this mat-ter will prove to be relevant, for the prevailing confusion in religious life concerns partly the lack of clarity about charism and charisms.3 Religious Life as Charism Religious life, like all life, is best observed in its relationships. On the one hand, it is a part of the church; and, on the other, it is itself the church and so serving, like the church, the rest of the world (§3, §25, and §44). In the first perspective, religious life is one of the many charisms of the church; in the second, it is, as we said earlier, a fundamental charism giving rise to a wide variety of expressions of itself. The religious state of life is a "particular gift in the life of the church" (Lumen gentium, §43). As such it can be properly appre-ciated only when we see it in place, beside many other similar gifts enjoyed by the church. That is why the Lineamenta begins the consideration of charisms (§14-§17) recalling the mystery of the church as the Mystical Body of Christ endowed with many gifts, quoting Paul: "There are many different gifts, but it is always the same Spirit; there are many different ways of serving, but it is always the same Lord. There are many different forms of activ-ity, but in everybody it is the same God who is at work in all" (1 Co 12:4-6). By the parallelism of the verses, the different ways of service or activity are all to be understood as gifts in a variety of forms. Paul goes on to list such gifts in the immediate context (i Co 12:8-10, 28) and also in other letters (Rm 12:6-8 and Ep 4:11). A look at all the lists can give us an idea of the wide range of gifts enjoyed by the growing church. Though it would be anachronistic to look for the mention of religious life among the listed gifts of the Spirit bestowed on the church, note that celibacy is proposed as a special gift (1 Co 7:7). In the course of time the church came to recognize many more gifts in its ongoing life, gifts like asceticism, monasticism, vir- 44 Review for Religious ginity, choice of poverty, and social virtues, to speak only of those that have an obvious reference to religious life.4 As the church grew in self-awareness, it came to discover many elements that we now associate with religious life as its specific gifts; and so today we can speak about "the charism of the consecrated life" (§14), that is to say, the consecrated life itself viewed as a gift or charism. However various and heterogeneous the different charisms may be in the manner of their working, they are one and homo-geneous in intent and purpose. They are all meant to build up the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ is built up when the mem-bers are well nourished and so live to the full, reaching unity in faith and knowledge of the Son of God and forming the perfect Person fully mature with the fullness of Christ himself (Ep 4:13). This fullness of Christ is the same as the life permeated by the Spirit ever filling us or even overwhelming us with all her gifts and charisms. Such a life energized by the working of the Spirit is spiritual and holy. M1 the charisms of the Spirit nourish the life of the church, making it ever more holy with the life of Christ himself. Situating religious life thus in the sphere of the church's life of holiness and recognizing in it a universal reality in the church's makeup, the Lineamenta concludes: "With this in mind one speaks of 'the charism of the consecrated life'" (§14). Here is surely an echo of the approach to religious life taken by Lumen gentium, §39-§47. Such an affirmation of religious life, however, is slightly marred by the way the Lineamenta, following of course Vatican expresses it. After describing the way of holiness of religious life marked by vows that establish a special bond to God, Lumen gen-tium concludes: "Thus, although the religious state., does not belong" to the hierarchical structure of the church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (see L §1; see also §14 and §36). One can discover a patronizing voice here, rightly or wrongly. Anyway, what a difference it would make if the state-ment were to read towards the end: "nevertheless, like the hier-archy, the religious state too belongs inseparably to her life and holiness." Does not Vatican II after all state in the chapter on universal holiness, "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" (LG §41), and further go on to describe the way of holiness of the different classes of persons and finally end with a clear reference to the life of the religious (LG §41 and §42)? January-February 1994 45 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism There is a good reason why we can parallel religious life and hierarchy in this way. Of all the charisms enumerated by Paul-- who, incidentally, developed the terminology of charisms--the pastoral office of the hierarchy is the only one that concerns a state of life. This idea gets all the greater force because the pas-toral letters signal a development in the idea of charism which continued to prevail in postapostolic times. Paul's reminder to Timothy, "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you when the prophets spoke and the body of elders laid their hands on you" (i Tm 4:14), a reminder repeated again in 2 Timothy 1:6, certainly refers to Timothy's charism as one of grace of state or office. If we add to this way of looking at the hierarchical charism the reference to the charism of married life in 1 Corinthians 7:7, where there is a simultaneous reference to the charism of celibacy too, we can discern a line of thinking in which the various particular vocations in Christian life can be considered charisms establishing people in different states of life. So we can now speak in particular of the charism of religious life as the grace of the religious state of life; contributing to the holiness of the church in a particular way. In this context it is enlightening and inspiring to recall an old nomenclature of the religious state of life, namely, the state of perfection, proclaiming visibly the prophetic office of Christ wit-nessing to the kingdo~n here and hereafter. What is basic about states of perfection is the perfection to be acquired by way of the evangelical counsels in a community set-up. The function of any particular way of religious life, contemplative or active, lies. in this: that religious, by their very striving after holiness, call upon all Christians to do the same in their own way. So remarking, Bernard H~iring quotes papal authority in support: "The church would not fully respond to the mind of her Divine Bridegroom, men would not fix their eyes on her as on the 'the signal unto the nations'., if they did not find in her men who reflected the splendor of the gospel more through the example of their life than by means of words.''s All this is not so old-fashioned. A few years ago America carried an article describing religious as those who, unlike the laity, make religion their very career with its own particular structures that not only favor and promote it but also witness to it.6 The charism of religious is to be identified with striving for perfection, as the Lineamenta often repeats (§3, §5, §8, and §16). 46 Review for Religious To speak of the state of perfection is perhaps not a post-Vatican practice. However, in avoiding the falsity of perception possible in the expression, one need not altogether abandon its right use. Rather, we need to rediscover in the correct meaning of the phrase some essentials of religious life. Here is one: "It is not so much we who profess as others (the church, the community) who recognize that we. at least have received an explicit call and have come to a state of commitment to pursue it relentlessly, wholeheartedly; and radically.''7 But even in so reflecting on religious life as a state of perfec-tion, one should beware of a dan-ger. If one were to emphasize the personal pursuit of perfection that religious undertake, one is liable to overemphasize all their many undertakings on the path to perfection, thereby forgetting that any and every charism is a pure and simple gift of God. The story of Peter is apt here, as Bonhoeffer tells it. "Three times Peter heard himself proclaim that Christ is his Lord and God--at the beginning, at the end, and at Caesarea Philippi. Each time it is the same grace of Christ calling Peter to follow, and revealing itself to him in his confession." To reiterate the idea with Bonhoeffer: "This grace was certainly not self-bestowed. It was the grace of Christ himself.''8 Quoting all this, J.M.R. Tillard concludes; "Now, this costly grace., is for Simon Peter and for every religious the charism which makes existence as such a sign of the gospel. This charism comes from the Lord's Spirit . It is truly a gift made by the risen Lord, through his Holy Spirit, to his people. The Lord passes by. his grace seizes certain men and women. Poor sinners, they are nonetheless of those who will say to . . . the world: 'We have found what we were looking for! Come and see!' This is their charism.''9 One may, then, delve into the experience of religious life and discover in its depths not so much a for but a because of. No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One Who calls. "The for will come later, nec-essarily, but in the radiance and as the evangelical fruit of the No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One who calls. ~tanuar2/-Febrttary 1994 47 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism because of," as Tillard says.~° Can anything be clearer than this? Yet in the culture shock that religious were exposed to after Vatican Council II, not a few sought their identity in their works and tasks, in their of religious life. But the more they did so, the more elusive they found it. For their real existence as religious was concentrated in the call of Christ to which they had once com-mitted themselves because of the altogether new experience of being seized by the Lord's power. Their existence, therefore, became, or ought to have become, a new existence, a charismatic existence, a charism. Such a vision of religious life as the charism in itself appears distinctly, though in a less charismatic expression, in the Lineamenta when it speaks of the profession of the gospel as the supreme rule for all institutes, whatever their particular ministries may be (§8; see also Perfectae caritatis, §2). The Charisms of Religious Life Once religious life is understood in terms of one unique exis-tential charism underlying all forms of it, one may be able to appreciate the more familiar experience of the particular charisms that at once characterize and distinguish the various institutes. It is in this way that the Lineamenta would seem to interpret the charismatic nature of religious life as taught in the conciliar and postconciliar documents (§ 14). Logically and theologically, the consideration of the charism that constitutes religious life leads to that of the many charisms of religious life. It is the one charism of religious life that begets many a charism in it. Are not the latter "like branches sprouting out wondrously and abundantly from a tree growing in the field of the Lord"? (LG §43, quoted in L §16). Historically, however, what attracted the attention of people was the variety of charisms and not the one charism beneath and beyond all charisms. So, tracing the beginning of religious life from the very infancy of the church, Perfectae caritatis could point out: "Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, many., pursued a solitary life, or founded religious families . And so it happened by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities grew up" (§ 1, partly quoted in L § 16). The mention of solitary life and religious families obviously refers to the twin charisms of original religious life, namely, 48 Review for Religious eremiticism and cenobitism (§9 and §19c). Cenobitism itself in the course of history developed two other charisms, namely, divine contemplation and human service. These in turn became spe-cialized in their ways of focusing on God and on people. In what-ever century religious live out their days, they adopt or develop distinct varieties of direct service of God and humanity, in imita-tion of Christ. Through them, therefore, Christ comes to be shown "contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father" (LG §46, quoted in L §15). Often enough, charisms are considered, or even identified with, graces meant for the common good. Such a consideration is incomplete because it misses something important, namely, the source of the power of service. Charisms are particular graces imparted to us by which we bear or image or reflect or even become Christ in ourselves in a particular limited way, and so are able to render appropriate service in a specific context in a par-ticular part of the world in the manner of Christ himself. So they highlight in us "a specific aspect of the mystery of Christ" (§ 17). However, the gospel, or for that matter Christ himself, if under-stood with proper nuance, is not apart from the church. So the Lineamenta does well in describing charisms as bearing upon a specific aspect, not only of the mystery of Christ, but also of the church's life, and thus manifesting in the makeup of the Mystical Body the multiform grace of Christ (§15). One should not miss here how charisms are at once incarnational and ecclesial (§46). Charisms and Service Once it is grasped that charisms have to do primarily with a fundamental religious way of being, one cannot go wrong in insist-ing that charisms are out-and-out oriented towards service, "des-tined for service of the kingdom" (§3); for surely charisms have an inalienable reference, not only to the way of being, but also to the way of doing. The Lineamenta spells out the nexus between charism and service forcefully thus: "Each charism . . . brings with it a particular manner of faithfully and intensely living the evangelical counsels. In addition, it implies a particular and con-crete style of spiritual life, a determined form of apostolate, a .~anuary-February 1994 49 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism specific experience of community life, and a particular involvement in the world" (816 [emphasis added]; see also $8). What, then, are the specific paths of service in the building of the earthly city (§44)? Not forgetting the contribution of the contemplatives to society through their divine service of worship (§2)--the first permanent foundation of women in the United States was Carmelites~l--the Lineamenta illustrates the service of active charisms thus: "Today the consecrated life is present in our society through the multiplicity of apostolic services rendered to others, each according to its diverse charisms, in one magnificent expression of the charity of Christ on behalf of the integral for-mation of persons; in the education of children and young people, in the care of the sick, the suffering, the elderly, and those in want; and in aid to persons with special needs and those marginal-ized by society" (§44a). What do all such services intend except "to make operative the gospel of the beatitudes and the works of mercy" (§44a)? One particular element of service rendered by charisms con-cerns life of communion within the church. Different forms of religious life characterized by their different charisms do not con-stitute exclusive churches within the church, but, forming part of the one church, ought to feel themselves to be the church and so identify themselves with her (~3 and ~35; see also Perfectae car-itatis, §2c). The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the religious themselves (~16, §26e, and §46). For not only are they meant for the growth of the chhrch, but they also have their origin, regulation, guarantee, and approval in and from the church (§6, §15, and §16). Therefore, far from being closed in upon themselves, religious offer a rich fare for communion, reflecting ideal church commu-nion (§9). There is every reason, then, to identify the religious living together by the term community. Incidentally, the hierarchy as such can only contribute, in terms of sociology, to the culture of societas with role differentiation; but the religious as such plunge themselves into the heart of society with their charisms of ser-vice (§3, ~42, and §44) and break through segmentations in soci-ety and initiate the culture of communitas in our world.~2 In bringing about this new culture of communion in the world church, the religious, as "experts in communion" (§35), have nec- 50 Review for Relig~otts essarily to act locally in the particular church, but with their hearts spanning universally in the global church (§27a). The exercise of religious charisms "assists everyone--clergy and faithful--to open themselves to the universal and missionary dimension of the church, and., makes the particular churches an image of the uni-versal church" (§39). For a con-crete example of communion resulting from the enduring charisms, the Lineamenta points out the flourishing of lay third orders, lay associations, and lay-volunteer groups "whose mem-bers are bound under different titles to the spirituality and apos-tolic work of various institutes" (}41). Where the charisms do not serve the cause of church com-munion, they are likely to become mere means of some service or religious themselves. other without the underlying spirit. The Lineamenta warns of the danger of reducing the pres-ence of institutes to parochial ser-vice "without encouraging and welcoming the richness of the spirituality and their proper charismatic service" (~40). More plainly, in the church Body each part can do only the service it is meant for. As charisms are vivifying and beautifying graces of the differ-ent members of the Body of the church (§46), they complement one another; and so they cannot healthily coexist without mutual encounter and influence. Perhaps, in the pre-Vatican "ghetto" church, religious congregations developed their own ghettos, pos-sibly without even knowing it. But the time has come, especially in the era of ecumenism, for % better understanding of the sense of communion among foundational charisms" (§27b). It is high time, therefore, for religious to realize how a particularly har-monious communion among themselves, sharing one another's charism, "can and should contribute to express better the full-ness and richness of Christ" (§46), not only in his Body the church, but also in his extended body, the world in need of union. The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the Jan~ry-Febrz~ry 1994 51 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism As charisms serve the cause of communion in the church, so do they contribute to the unity of the separate congregations them-selves. It is unthinkable that a religious family could maintain its unity of life amid all its committed involvement in the world if it failed to cling to its essential charism for nourishment (§32b). Each particular charism, bringing with it a particular manner of intense eyangelical life, makes the presence of the one Lord pres-ent in space and time (§46) and thus "enriches the legacy of life, history, and spirituality characterizing each family identity, shared in common through the spirit of the founder or foundress" (§16). Keeping Charisms Alive The dynamism of religious life in its variety depends on the vitality of its true charisms. Once charisms turn false, they lose their vitality and spell the ruin of institutes. Present-day insti-tutes can continue their existence faithfully only if they recog-nize, recover, retain, and renew their particular charisms in their past originality and present timeliness (~ 17). What, then, can we say about the renewal of charisms? "In keeping with their proper charism" (§40) and similar phrases recur in the Lineamenta, as in the Code of Canon Law, emphasizing that the charisms are to be preserved with fidelity and continued without alteration, avoiding all subtle deviation from the original spirit (§16). This supposes in religious a healthy appreciation and pride in the early traditions of their congrega-tion, as advocated by Perfectae caritatis. Given the evangelical inspiration of all charisms, one can say more, drawing a compar-ison between keeping to the purity of the gospel and maintaining the primitive charism. As Paul insisted on an anathema for those who dare preach a different gospel (Ga 1:8-9), religious founders and foundresses could do likewise, enjoining their followers to abide by the spirit of their constitutions without any dilution or dissimulation on their part.13 In this spirit, while expressing appre-ciation of the general progress in the awareness of the separate charisms in the different congregations in the postconciliar era, the Lineamenta adds affirmatively: "This consciousness ought to find expression in a spiritual commitment and a working pres-ence which effectively enlivens and makes operative for the good of the church the spirit of the founder orfoundress and the legacy of each institute" (§3 lc). 52 Review for Religious Two modern experiences with regard to charisms are note-worthy. One, the preferential choice for the poor, which has been "a constant feature of charisms in the apostolic life, often inspired by the words and actions of the Lord" (§44c; see also §27d), is becoming more and more a serious concern for religious life, leading communities to share the very life of the poor and the marginalized with all their risks, trials, and problems. Second, reminiscent of the early successes of many a congregation, there is the geographical spread of extant charisms in the younger churches of the third world and in the newly liberated Eastern European countries (§27c), giving rise to new cultural expres-sions of them (§32c). The above-mentioned experiences are two fine examples of how charisms rise to the occasion and serve their purpose today, provided they are ever deepened and constantly developed (Mutuae relationes, §1 i; L ~16) according to the signs of the times (Perfectae caritatis, §2; L §17). The sign today is the oncoming of the third millennium, throwing up opportunities and challenges (§33) and giving rise to the sprouting of new charisms and new forms of evangelical life (§24 and §27c). One aspect of this deepening and developing of surviving charisms lies in the direction of their "being called upon today-- inspired by the spirit of the founder or foundress--to serve as the basis for making new commitments and responses in Christian charity to the new and old expressions of poverty in our world" (§29g) and, more generally, to the changed atmosphere of the world "because of the social and cultural happenings which have rapidly come about in modern society" (§25). This is reminiscent of the call of Mutuae relationes to be innovative enough for bold enter-prising initiatives (§12; L §42). Which persons are inspired enough and thus inspiring enough to make new initiatives and refound their congregations, warding off the subtle temptation to be wise in their own eyes? Only fer-vent people (§29e). Only they can update discerningly for today the expressions of their original charism. But in the absence of such people "a certain leveling in behavior and in the tenor of the spiritual and communal life has brought a certain loss of prac-tical identity in charism and works" (§28b)--as surely happened in India, for instance, when some religious working with the masses wanted no public association whatever with their congre-gation. So the apparently clever and outspoken members certainly ~tammry-February 1994 53 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism need to be cautioned, against tendential postures, theoretical and practical, regarding charisms that go against their.genuineness (§3 lc). A case in point was that of a Jesuit who spoke of the need to rewrite the Ignatian rules for thinking with the church, to the applause of the gathering of course, with scant awareness of their foundation in the mystical union of the church and Christ that inspired Ignatius's Eharacteristic service of the church. While there have been new, positive, and worthy initiatives-- the switch of women religious in the United States from the ser-vice of the clergy to frontier ministries should be hailed as one such measure though grudged by not a few men even in the highly progressive United States of Americal4--there have also been negative, unworthy, and false initiatives--which brings me to the discussion of faddism. Faddism Faddism, the cultivation of fads, has to do with "a rapid, sud-den, and ephemeral collective adoption of novel behavior which affects only superficial or trivial areas of life.''s It was certainly the fad of hasty paradigm shifting when some persons clamored for implementing changes in religious life at a faster pace than peo-ple could cope with. Even when people were willing to change, it was not without the grief of losing the familiar past or the fear of the unknown future. So whoever rushed their fellow religious into the world of Vatican II without at the same time providing them time to grapple with their fear or to grieve over or even rage about their apparent loss were carried away more by an itch for change (2 Tm 4:3) than by the breath of the Spirit, for whom there are times for everything. It was also a fad whenever an opinion gained ground that this or that particular individual was the resource person for renewal. To venture an example, it would seem that a certain fad of what may be called spiritual consumerism surrounded Anthony de Mello of Sadbana fame, for numbers of people kept looking to him alone for renewal, almost as if he were the director of world-wide renewal. In any case, whenever one individual looms too large in some endeavor, the result tends to be superficial, whereas all renewal worth the name happens deep within people, where the creative Spirit works in the innermost recesses of hearts. Another similax: fad, which coflld be called hybridization, was 54 Review for Religious the adoption of a celebrated model as the sole means of renewal, whether or not it squared with the blueprint of one's own origi-nal charism. If the one-month retreat according to the Spiritual Exercises appeared to be such a fad some twenty years ago, today in certain circles external dialogue--whether with native tradi-tions or modern situations--would seem to hold sway more than inner dialogue within one's own charism. Among all those who were "zealous" about reforms in reli-gious life, precious few resorted to a real praxis. Not only did individuals and small groups indulge in the fad of stylized ideo-logical talk.~6 Even entire provinces, if not whole congregations, could be all talk, adopting popular phrases about the poor, for example, rather than making sincere options for them. How pro-ductive can all this exercise be except for inviting occasional out-right condemnation. A bold village woman responded to a group of young religious whose actions were not as forthcoming as their words, "These are not the kind of shepherds who will save the sheep; they swallow the sheep." What is absent in feverish talk, namely, action, can itself become a fad and go beyond all proportion. The slogan (not the idea itself) "formation for mission in mission" suits such a fad, giving the go-by to minimum privacy and seclusion for necessary growth in maturity and personalization. Showmanship and one-up- manship feed this fad, causing each one's action to be largely unproductive. These things are the very opposite of prophetic action. They may have the imaginativeness of the prophets of old, but not their soundness of inspiration. The craze of using anything and everythin

Transcript of an oral history interview with William Sawyer Gannon, conducted by Joseph Cates at Gannon's home in Manchester, New Hampshire, on 18 July 2016 as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. William Gannon was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1958; his family history, experiences as a student at Norwich University, seminary education, and post-Norwich career as a church priest are all discussed in the interview. ; 1 William S. Gannon, Class of '58, Oral History Interview July 18, 2016 Bedford, New Hampshire Interviewed by Joseph Cates JOSEPH CATES: This is Joseph Cates. Today is July 18, 2016. I'm interviewing William S. Gannon. This interview is taking place at his home in Bedford, New Hampshire. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. Do you go by Rev. Gannon? WILLIAM S. GANNON: Rev. Gannon, Father Gannon, Mr. Gannon or Bill. JC: [Chuckles] Or Bill. Okay. WG: (Chuckles) JC: Well, I'll tell you what, tell me your full name. WG: William Sawyer Gannon. JC: And what's your date of birth? WG: May 30, 1936. JC: Okay. And where were you born? WG: In Manchester, New Hampshire. JC: Okay. And what Norwich class are you? WG: Class of '58 JC: Tell me about where you grew up and what you did as a child. WG: Well, I grew up in Manchester, New Hampshire for the first 6 years. And being born on the day that the whole country celebrated Memorial Day, which was always May 30th, whenever it fell. We lived opposite Stark Park. And there were cannons at Stark Park. The Gannons lived by the cannons. And the parade ended at Stark Park. And when I was three years old, they shot their guns off three times. So, I of course, assumed that that was in honor of my birthday. And when I was four and they still shot them only three times, I was upset. JC: (Laughs) 2 WG: (Laughs) So, that was the first part of life here. I still have my three-year-old nursery school report and I'm very impressed with the quality of the thinking of the writer of the report. It was a page and a half. And I was amused by some of the comments that every dog I met I thought was my own. And, that when I was asked to do something I didn't understand, I would cry. But once it was explained to me, I was alright. I love to say, "And nothing has changed." JC: (Chuckles) WG: (Chuckles) And I guess I feel especially blessed by both my early – my preschool education, which started at the age of three and my musical education which started before I was born because my mother was a concert pianist and the church organist and a teacher of piano. So, I was hearing Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and Chopin, and Romanov and Debussy before I was born. And much later in life is when I had a very deep and still do have, a love of progressive jazz. That's the jazz from the 40s, 50s and 60s and 70s I'd say. I read somewhere something that lead me to realize that my hearing Debussy early on had set me up for the cords that are present in modern jazz. And recently some social psychologist was telling me that when babies are adopted at the year of one year old from Russia, they come to this country, something that is often unanticipated by the parents is, all they have heard, even though they aren't speaking yet, are the sounds of Russia, the Russian language. They have to pick up on the sounds of English language. As adults, we tend to think that language is only important once you start speaking, but clearly, it's important even before you're born, you're hearing sounds from people's speech. So, I really thank my mother. She started me on the piano at age five and I still play but not publicly, on the piano. It never took with the seriousness that I wish it had. And I went on later, that was 11 or 12 to a piano teacher, another teacher in high school and nothing really got started until I took up the trombone in high school. But, my mother was very important to my early life, I now know, in ways that I didn't always appreciate when I was growing up and when I was an adult. We moved to Concord when I was six. I went to the first grade in Manchester. And, then we moved from Concord to Chester, New Hampshire, when I was ten and that would have been 1946. My father had always been, or for a long time, a grain salesman and he also owned a couple of grain stores. And he had bought a coal company in Derry, New Hampshire, and stopped his traveling. He worked for a grain company, a national company that sold to grain stores called, Park & Pollard. And their slogan was Lay or Bust and on his stationary, there was a picture on one side, at the top, of a chicken laying an egg. And on the other side, of a chicken busting apart. And in between was the slogan, "Lay or Bust." And, I kind of felt delighted in realizing how profoundly in the 20s, 30s, 40s when he was on the road as a salesman, agriculture was where most people earned their living and got their sustenance. And it was coming to an end that was probably part of 60, 80 maybe 100-year decline in this country. So, that was partly brought home to me, as I think back. When I was 11, I believe it was, he bought a chicken coop and got 25 little chicks, and grew them. And, I became 3 their keeper. And, I had an egg route. And then the next year, we added onto the garage and I had the use of a horse and it was borrowed from a company that rented horses out during the summers; summer camps and places like that. And I'm surmising that we did them a favor by feeding and boarding the horse for the winter. And they did us a favor in giving me a horse to ride. And that was all part of the fact that my father had been in World War I in the cavalry, which sounds amazing. And that's partly probably why Norwich's cavalry past had some appeal to him and to me. And that's partly how we got the horse. So, in high school, which was Pinkerton Academy in Derry, New Hampshire, I guess I had a somewhat uneventful time. I played football on the varsity team, beginning my junior year and also my senior year. And then, when I came to Norwich, it seemed as if everybody was too big on the football team and I was heavily into the trombone. And I had practiced eight hours a day, as I noted in a piece that the Norwich Record had published, because I was afraid I wouldn't make it into the Norwich band. And – but I did. And, the trombone was the important thing to me and I can remember, and I think I mentioned this in the article, being at an alumni reunion and standing at the old SAE house, where I had been a member, with three or four other alums who I didn't know until that moment, and they were talking about the sports they played at Norwich. And they turned to me and said, "What did you play?" Then I said quite proudly, "The trombone." So, I started thinking I was going to be a businessman in my father's business. I'd worked part time, and on Saturdays for him, from the age of 13 on up to when I left for Norwich. And, it turned out that an ambition of my mother took over. So, in my sophomore year, I changed my major to history in preparation to going to law school. My grandfather had been a New Hampshire chief justice and the William Sawyer in my name was his name, William H. Sawyer. So, that lasted through a couple of years at Norwich, even up into my senior year. I'd been accepted at law school, but changed my mind at the last minute to go to seminary. And that was the influence of an episcopal church chaplain who was also a professor at the school of a number of courses that I took, and I just had a very deep interest in the subject matter, and those courses included Old and New Testament, one course for each. And, ethics and there was a political philosophy class that I took that was also, I would say, in the philosophy direction. And it was basically a love of the subject matter that brought me to seminary. I was commissioned in the signal corps. So, that was deferred for four years. Normally a seminary education is a three-year event, but I stayed for an extra year and got two master's degrees when I graduated. Actually, one was – the first three years was then a bachelor and was later changed to a master's degree. It was a Master of Divinity. But, I had some sense that I wanted to be like my mentor. His name was Hershel Miller, Father Hershel Miller. And he had an extra year of seminary. And I discovered when I was in full time church work in Manchester, that the extra degree, I guess, helped me get a part time teaching job at St. Anselm College, and I think I was the first Protestant in their religion department. And, that went on for a couple of years. And, it led me into full time teaching, which 4 was first at the Groton School in Groton, Massachusetts. And then at St. Paul's School in Concord, New Hampshire. And from there, I went to being a head of a school in Peekskill, New York, and later, briefly, the head of a New York City private school. And about that time, I got divorced and needed to make more money, so I went into the business world in New York City for 13 years. And, I enjoy telling people I worked for 10 years for a company, American Credit Indemnity, selling a product to businesses on their business to business transactions in which we insured the transactions so if their customer didn't pay them, and we'd insured it, we paid them and we went after the debt. And, at a certain point, my boss, who in many ways was a real scoundrel, but I enjoyed working for him, he retired. And, for some reason, I didn't have the same feeling for the new sales manager and began to think that I was really better at the church stuff than at the selling game. Although I think I was pretty good at it. And, I sort of euphemistically say that I made a lot of money in New York, but I got no respect. And then I went back to being the church priest where I got a lot of respect and no money. And a friend of mine, who is an Episcopal bishop, when I told him that he said, "Well, if you were a bishop, you'd make no money and you'd get no respect." (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: That was only partly true, all that stuff. And, the church I went to was a – named Christ Church. It was in Glen Ridge, New Jersey. And, it had a reputation of being a rector, that's the position I had, a rector killer church. My immediate predecessor had been in there only three years. He was fired by the bishop because he first divorced his wife, kicked her out of the rectory and brought in some other woman. And, of course, enraged the congregation with that behavior. So, the bishop did what he should do and fired him. And, 30 years prior, this was 1991 when I went there, the rector had had some involvement with, probably a parishioner. He was married with children. And in a New York City hotel, he killed himself. JC: Oh, my goodness. WG: And it was – in some ways it was as if that event has still clung to the walls of the church. Its impact was so profound. I met somebody that had attended the church for eight months after that event and did not know about it, indicating that nobody talked about it. It was too painful to communicate. So, I was taking – I knew I was taking on a church that was a tough place and it took, I would say, a good three to four years before things really calmed down and we got going again. And, when I retired in '03, I continued to do part time interim work as a priest in Episcopal churches. And I realized very quickly that when you come newly into a leadership position, whether it's a church or something else, you are inheriting a great deal and the trust relationship that either did or didn't exist with the prior administrator, is going to bedevil you or bless you. And, places where there's been a profound leadership, I discovered it was very easy to come in and I 5 would be immediately trusted and we'd get going and have fun. And places where there had been a succession, would have to be more than one succession of bad leadership, it was going to be a battle of sorts to exert any kind of leadership. And, at this point, I'm just a pew sitter. (Laughs) And enjoying it. JC: Well, we're going to back up a little bit – WG: Sure. JC: -- and we're going to fill in some questions. You talked a little bit about why you chose Norwich. Can you elaborate more on that, why you chose to go to Norwich? WG: Well, I think I chose mostly because of my father. I'd had relatives that went to Dartmouth, and perhaps – and UNH. Perhaps that would have been my mother's choice. But, it was the military that intrigued me. I had a cousin who had been in World War II and I worked with him – he worked for my father. He was about 10 years older and I had, just a high regard for him and I would guess that it was the military side. And I had a classmate, Harry Parkinson at Pinkerton who also got interested in Norwich. And, I remember him saying that he had had an uncle who'd been a soldier in World War II and had died. And I think that was part of his interest in going to Norwich. JC: And you said your major, you majored in history and you kept with that? WG: Yes. JC: Why do you think you chose history, particularly? WG: Good question. I think I had a love of history born of my mother and she had genealogy interests. We were – I learned early on we were descended from Mayflower people and – on her side, not on my father's side. In fact, my ancestors on my father's side fought on the other side during the Revolutionary War. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: And went from New York City to Canada (chuckles) – came back through New Brunswick, through Maine at a certain point later, several generations later. That kind of had something to do with it. And, I guess other than I'm – I still love history, read a good amount of military history. I sort of think I may be drawn to military history as one who hadn't served because when I got out of seminary there was nothing happening. And, I think if I had thought I should go into the service, it wouldn't be as a chaplain, it would be in the signal corps where I'd started out. I'm not sure if that would be true. And, where was I headed with this – what was the question again? 6 JC: Why you chose history as your major. WG: Oh, why I chose history as my major. I just – I'm not sure. Oh, I was talking about military history. Oh, and I think I had in the back of my head -- When I was a priest in Harrington Park, New Jersey, in a second church, I had a celebration for Veteran's Day in November, whether it fell on Sunday or one of the days before or after. So, I had a breakfast for veterans and their families. And the World War II veterans have a great reputation that no one ever talked about their experience. Well, this was in between an 8:00 and a 10:00 service and I discovered that when the veterans got together, whether it was World War II or later, you couldn't shut them up! (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: And it made sense that they were talking because they knew the people they were talking to would understand where they're coming from. That was their military service. And I wonder if maybe my father's – he was in every battle in World War I, in Europe and was never wounded. So, I sort of grew up with hearing all that kind of stuff. JC: Was he in the first division or was he in the 76th? WG: The 76th Field Artillery Horse Drawn Cavalry. That's where the cavalry part came out of there. But he trained with horses. JC: Who were your roommates at Norwich and where did you live? WG: It was Jackson Hall. I can picture them. I'm not sure I can remember their names. Harry Parkinson was one. And there was a kid from Vermont that went on to West Point after the first year. And we were all bandsmen. And there was a guy, Lemons was one of the guys. He was an upper classman. That was in a subsequent year. But that leads me to an event that happened, I think, in my junior year, when there was a shooting in a room. I think I was on the first floor of Jackman. And across the hall, a guy named Tony Reddington, was with a roommate who had a .45 pistol. And an upperclassman of mine, Norm Elliott, came in the room and saw it and said – the two guys being rooks, "Let me see that." Pick it up. Took the clip out of the handle and aimed it at Tony Reddington and pulled the trigger. And it hit him in the body somewhere. Just unthinkable behavior. You would think. So, he, Tony was taken by ambulance to Hanover. The first successful aorta transplant kept him alive. He was able to survive about an hour's trip at least. However long it took the ambulance to get there and he came back to the school I think the next year and graduated. I'm pretty sure he graduated. And just recently, last year, I think it was last year. Or the year before. No, it was last year, I think, at a Saturday evening dinner at the hotel in Montpelier, I was 7 sitting at a table with my wife and I heard this voice saying, "Who are you?" And I didn't recognize him. And he said – "I'm Bill Gannon." And he said, "Bill Gannon?" And it was Tony Reddington. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: First time I was seeing him I think, since Norwich. And there he was. JC: Now, you were in band company. WG: Yes. JC: What can you tell me about band company? WG: Well, I'm sure we had – I'm trying to think if we ever played our instruments. I think we did. But I'm not sure when we might have done that. We got to play quite a bit, as a band. And, I think that was daily, which is important to do. I still play the trombone every day, because I play in a couple of concert bands. And I also play in a swing band. A couple of different ones. So, that was an important aspect because you have to keep your armature up if you're a brass player. And we would be playing for the bringing of the flag down. And that would be a daily event. And one of my favorite stories and memories of a time when our band had a major leader, not the professional guy but the cadet, determined that he was going to have a yacht cannon that would shoot, just a blank, and it was positioned under one of the real cannons by the flag pole, and nobody knew that he was going to be doing this, that we were going to be doing it. And he had explained to us, probably about this time, that the bass drum was always hit, this was something we did to simulate a cannon going off. And then we would start with the National Anthem. And on this occasion, I remember seeing a rook standing at attention, holding a string. His arm was up, he was holding a string and he was going to pull the string on – connected to the yacht cannon. So, he was given the command. And he pulled the string. And there was this huge roar and blue or black smoke and we started playing. And I remember looking because the trombones are in the front line, so I remember seeing both columns of cadets down the parade ground. And I was looking at the ones on the left as we faced east, I guess, and the whole column jumped at the cannon sound. And I'm sure the same thing was happening on the other side. There were three regimental officers in the middle and the cannon was sort of aimed at them. I'm not sure of this, but I believe I saw them leave the ground. JC: (Laughs) WG: And, the best part is, they came down saluting. (Laughs) 8 JC: (Laughs) WG: And held the salute for the duration of the National Anthem. (Chuckles) Well, our leader got fired from his – he was reduced from a sergeant to a private. And, (laughs) was discipline. I'm not sure how else he was disciplined and eventually became a leader again. That's a story worth – and, that was the beginning of a tradition of a 105 howitzer being deployed in the things that take place with the flag coming down on the parade ground. JC: Okay. Now, you said you didn't play any sports, you just played the trombone. WG: Right. JC: And, did you participate in any other activities? WG: I skied, but not on the ski team. And, I think that was part of the appeal of Norwich. And back then, there was a ski slope right across from the school. And, on a Saturday for sure and on Sunday, you could just walk across with their skis and just ski. And I remember that those of us in the signal corps course were a part at Mt. Mansfield, of setting up a communication system for some ski races that occurred there and to do that of course, we all got free skiing (laughs) as part of our setting of it up. JC: What did you do to relax when you were at Norwich? WG: Well, I think an important part of my Norwich experience was the fraternity life which we – we joined fraternities – was it our freshman year? I think so. And if it wasn't, it was the sophomore year. Because we ate in – the mess hall is the current chapel, and after the chapel mess hall, it was in the fraternities that most, but not all, that most of the school had their meals, lunch and dinner. And, the social life of the fraternity, I think, was very important. We had parties just about every Saturday night and we had a beer keg. And the commandant came around to make sure we weren't drinking. And the word went out ahead of his visiting, to the first fraternity. There were six, I think. And, that fraternity spread the word around the others that he's on his way. And when we got that word, we all had paper cups, so that by the time he got there, the keg was behind a two-part door. When it was open, the top part was open, but when he was coming, the top part was closed so you couldn't see the keg. And he would come down, this was in the basement, and he'd come down and we'd all start singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: And I'm sure he knew what was going on. And I would have to say, I would expect that the benefit in part was, and I don't know if anybody's studied this, but I'll bet there was a minimum of drunken driving accidents on the highways if all 9 the drinking was happening at the school. So, the social life centered – and Vermont College was a place where we got dates. Sometimes we went south, I can't remember the name of the school or the town, but it was in south Vermont. Some guys went to New York state for drinking purposes, because you could drink at 18 in New York state. And I remember one – I had a very close friend, Carl Haskell, who was a year older. And I remember on one occasion he had a musket and he and I went out to a nearby bridge and I got to fire the musket and the fun part of that was learning that you pull the trigger and then you wait. (Laughs) JC: Yes. (Laughs) WG: And I swear I could see the bullet flying through the air! JC: (Laughs) WG: (Laughs) And I know that there were some others who – I didn't go hunting. I hunted squirrels when I was growing up in Chester. But some guys were hunters and that was part of the relaxing. I played the trombone in a dance band, The Grenadiers. There was some pick up jam sessions. I remember a classmate who has become a famous military historian, Carl Estes, Este, I'm not sure which it is. JC: I think it's Este1 WG: Este, right. And he played the jazz guitar in the group. So that was – I've always been a big reader. Tony Reddington told me when I saw him that he started reading Soren Kierkegaard because he saw a copy in my hip back pocket of the paperback, by that Danish existentialist philosopher. JC: What fraternity were you in? WG: SAE. Sigma Alpha Epsilon. JC: Okay. And, tell me a little bit more about The Grenadiers. WG: Well, it was a dance band. I think there were – there's a full sax section or if not full, at least almost. Which would mean four saxes, full would be five, usually. And there were either two or three trumpets. There were two or three trombones. Maybe there are four, I'm not sure. Double bass, stand-up bass, drums and I'm not sure if we had, we probably had a pianist. And that was the standard – maybe also guitar, I'm not sure about that. That was the standard makeup of dance bands in those days. Still is for that matter. And, I don't remember – we must have 1 Carlo D'Este 10 played for dances. I don't remember doing it. But, the music was fully, I would have to say, at the top of my relaxing moments. I can play the piano. When I was 12, I had lessons from a jazz piano player who taught me the chords and I had – as I said, this was on the piano, of all the chords. So, what happens is, you can get what's called a fake book which has the melody line and the chords. Guitar players use them, of course. But on the piano, you can play the chord with the left hand, melody with the right. And, I used to do some of that stuff in the fraternity house on the piano. And I remember one fun time at the fraternity house, at a party, they had – I didn't have anything to do with this – but they had taped the girl's restroom. And at the conclusion, after all the dates had been taken home or left to however they got home, I mean, I think it was around 12:00 or 12:30 at night, we gathered in the kitchen to listen to the tape. And we roared with laughter when we heard one girl say, "This party shits. Let's go down to Dartmouth where they really know how to party!" JC: (Laughs) WG: (Laughs) JC: Do you remember any particular song that y'all would play? WG: Songs? Well, the songbook back then, which is still true for me now, "How High the Moon," "Sunny Side of the Street," "Body and Soul," "There Will Be Another You," "The Very Thought of You," and all those. I mean there are about – there's got to be over a thousand of them that are in my head. JC: What about some Norwich songs? WG: Well, there is the school song, which I don't think I ever fully learned the words to. JC: (Chuckles) WG: It doesn't really impress me, musically. (Chuckles) JC: Most alma maters don't. (Laughs) WG: Right. JC: What about "On the Steps of Old Jackman?" WG: Is that a song? JC: Do you remember that one? 11 WG: No, I don't. JC: Oh, okay. WG: I think that's since my time there. And I remember it being sung at some reunion recently. JC: That's one a lot of people sometimes mention. What instructor – who were the instructors who were most influential to you during your time at Norwich? WG: Well, Rev. Hershel Miller was one, and he was the priest of a small Episcopal Church in Northfield as well as on the faculty of Norwich University in the religion department. There was a Roman Catholic priest who taught courses in the religion department and Hershel and that was the makeup of the department. In the – the head of the history department was a Dr. Morse, who was a Harvard graduate, I'm pretty sure. And, my – I took a number of courses, and the name is escaping me, but he was published. He was Eisenhower's historian. [Albert Norman?] And probably the name will come to me. And he lived a long time after retiring, and always sent me Christmas cards. And, I wasn't always an "A" student in his classes, usually a "B" student, I guess. But he seemed to have taken – I think he liked the fact that I went on to seminary. Eber Spencer was the government professor that I had in philosophy – political philosophy course. And he wrote my recommendation for law school. I was very fond of him. There was an English teacher who was the – this was a big part of my life were the Pegasus Players. And the advisor for the Pegasus Players, I think his name was Nelson but I'm not sure. But, in my sophomore year, a friend got me involved in the Pegasus Players and a play called "Time Limit." And, for some reason, I got to lead. I don't know why. And that was the beginning of – that changed my life. My first year I was basically a "C" student. And my second year, I became a dean's list student. And I think that was true for the rest of my life at Norwich. And it was theatre that did it for me. And I found that after getting involved in theatre that I studied less and got better grades. So, I was being more purposeful and with it in my studying. And, in my junior year, I think, I was playing King Creon in the Sophocles play "Antigone" and I think it was somewhat influential in my life. I had a line that I gave in the play. I was speaking to a subordinate person in the play, and the line was, "You dazzle me." And it was a put-down. And the mostly cadet audience roared. It was a total surprise to me that that would happen. And I think I grew to like hearing people laugh. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: And it's been true in my teaching and church (?) [0:47:04] life since I tended to be somewhat entertaining. 12 JC: What were your favorite classes and least favorite classes? WG: My history classes were – that was one of my favorites. The philosophy classes were all my favorite. I took economics and I would say that had less interest to me but money had less interest to me later. Biology was okay and my first-year math class was so-so. I had had everything in high school, including calculus and I think I could have gone on and majored in math if I wanted to, but the math class was business math. And, much later in life, this could be the reason I didn't like it as much, I got tested for what I should be doing which really didn't provide any surprises. Part of the test was a math test and I'm surprised to have the guy tell me, this was a phycologist that administered the tests, that I'd gotten all the easy questions wrong and all the difficult questions right. (Chuckles) JC: (Chuckles) WG: Which, I guess, means if I'm not entertained, my mind goes to sleep. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: And I don't pick up on stuff, which could mean I should never fly an airplane. JC: (Laughs) Probably so. What do you remember about being a rook? WG: Well, I remember being yelled at. I remember, I almost didn't come back. And, I think that that was partly – I got one – I remember getting 16 demerits one month. 12 was the limit. And for every demerit over 12 you had to march with a rifle for an hour around the parade ground. So, when I was doing my four hours, I was saying to myself, "This will never happen again," proving that harsh punishment can educate. I remember, but this was true later on too, but I remember feeling somewhat awed and admiring of the senior leaders in the barracks. The company commander and the first and second lieutenant. And I remember in the junior ROTC summer camp, which was Ft. Gordon in Georgia for me in signal (?) [0:50:43] corps, finding one of my first-year cadet officers who had inscribed his name in the firing range. When you were firing, you were behind the targets, underground, the bullets flying over your head, and it was a great pleasure that I saw that. And I have since made a great deal, I think, in my own mind, and to a few people who are considering Norwich, of the importance of the cadre that first year. And I believe that it is somewhat rare today for young people whose peer group up through last year of school, is their age group, and that's somewhat adjusted by the Norwich experience because your peer group at Norwich, your first year is your age group and then the rest, older cadets who are teaching you and that makes a lot of sense to me. And whether they're being nice about it or not, you still learned how to make the beds the way they wanted you to and shining your shoes and polishing your brass, pressing your pants and shirt and where to keep 13 stuff in a drawer, in a bureau drawer in the room. And the other aspects of getting ready for a daily inspection. And I think, generally, post-Norwich thinking, that most people, it's not until they hit the work world, that their peer group is other than their age group and it makes it, in my mind, much more important to have intergenerational experiences. This is true in the music world. And I think when you learn an instrument you have a non-parent teaching you how to play something, that's different. And parents are probably not so good at teaching because they have such an emotional investment. And when I was teaching in my private schools, three of them being boarding schools, I always thought that we teachers were doing a better job of parenting because we didn't have the emotional investment that the parent has. And very recently I've read that up until the 1970s, the nurturing community in a family wasn't just the two parents. It was grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, older kids, non-relatives that were functioning as aunts and uncles and somehow, at some point, maybe it's not the 70s, maybe it's the 50s, who knows. Life changed in the nurturing experience growing up, which could make the Norwich experience that much more important. JC: Now, you said you got 16 demerits. Do you remember what you did? WG: I don't. It was sloppy, whatever it was. I didn't – I may have missed a class. That was worth two. And, I don't know, if I didn't shine my shoes or something. But it was dumb stuff. JC: What was the hardest part of attending Norwich? WG: I would guess the first three months was the hardest part. And what you learned over the four years was – and I retained this in my head at least – is the non-military person is just clueless about what's happening in the military. And what's happening is you're gaining mastery over a whole culture and living in that culture. And once you gain the mastery, you're just doing what you knew how to do. And, that's relaxing. (Laughs) And the – I can remember coming back as the sophomore and how happy everybody was. And when we visit Norwich, we – and they mix the cadets up with the visiting people, it seems as if the cadets all have a very high spirit of being at ease and happy and on top of things and I think that's part of, that's part of the musical experience, is gaining mastery at an early age over something. And somebody's written a book recently called Grit, I don't know if you know of it. JC: I've heard of it. WG: You've heard of it. And she's a social psychologist. And her main point, which is present in advertising for the book is, it's not the smartest people who become 14 the most successful. It's people who've learned perseverance. And I think that's part of the Norwich experience for those who don't drop out. JC: What was your favorite part about Norwich? WG: Going back. (Laughs) And not being part of the cadet corps. JC: (Laughs) WG: (Laughs) I guess the mess hall was a favorite part. The fraternities were a favorite part. I loved the parading, in the band. That was a favorite part. Still, when I hear a marching band drums, I get a special tingle. And the two bands that I play in, we're playing mostly serious and semi-serious music. Stuff like medleys from Duke Ellington or Broadway show medleys, that kind of stuff, but we also play marches. And I always enjoy playing the marches. And, I think the dance band is the direct descendent of the marching band. JC: What was the most important thing you think that Norwich taught you? WG: Good question. I would think it was perseverance. Now, that's somewhat influenced having just read this book. But, I tend to – well I'll tell you a musical story. I was living – I was single, living – having broken up with my wife, in Peekskill, New York and all – forever after Norwich, I was always active as a musician, mostly in jazz swing bands. So, I had a job at a New York City college, Hofstra I think, but I'm not sure that that's in New York City, but there's one that is in New York City. And, I was to play, I also play the double bass, I was to play there one night and my car broke down. I was to play both instruments, trombone and bass. So, I determined that I would try, by taxi and then by train, to get into the city with a standup bass and a trombone. Most of my playing in these swing bands is without music because it's usually improvised. So, I got myself into the city. Got through the subway turnstile, was standing on the subway, bass in one arm and trombone being held by the other, and a Chinaman came up and looked at me and twisted around me, and I was saying to myself, "Is this guy going to steal one of my instruments and run off and how will I chase after him?" And it looked up, and in sort of broken English, he said, "You musician?" (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: Which, of course I was. And the thought now of the effort I went to get from Peekskill to the gig and back, was rather extraordinary. But it has been true of my life generally that I push hard. JC: Norwich's motto is "I Will Try." What does that mean to you? 15 WG: Well, I always thought it was a dumb motto. I thought they could do better. Even "Lay or Bust" is a better motto, maybe. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: I mean, it's clear that some ad man hasn't designed it. But I actually think, my second and third thoughts about it is, it's pretty good. And I just read that infants – we saw a 12 month or 14-month-old boy in a restaurant waiting room with grandparents, parents surrounding it and he was standing with his arms out, back and forth as he maintains his balance. Is he going to take a step, or isn't he? That being hugely entertaining to the family and everybody else. That infants have to try again and again and again and they don't experience shame or failure. So, that could say that one of the more inhibiting aspects of adult life is when we fail and get all hung up over it, rather than trying again. And, it turns out, in science and in life generally, so much of the best stuff that happens, happens because you don't give up. JC: What does Partridge's idea of a citizen soldier mean to you? WG: Well, it means that I would vote for universal military training. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: I think that there is a national community that is being addressed by that identity. And the contributions that we make as citizens to our national life are going to all be happening locally, to be sure. But, we are citizen soldiers in any – in many of the contributions that we make whether it's in the military or not. And, I just think – especially at the late adolescence early adulthood stage of life, there are advantages to the military experience. I had a cab – a driver from an automobile company give me a ride home while they fixed my car and she'd just gotten out of a four-year air force stint and she told me – I asked her if she'd gone back to college because she had gone into the air force after high school. She said she had tried community college but it just didn't take, and my sense of it was that she couldn't stand the people she was going to school with. That they didn't have the dedication and seriousness that (inaudible) [1:05:21] the air force had had. And I've also read recently, I don't know if you've read Sabastian Junger's book Tribe but I can recommend it. It's short. The pages are short. And it's about our society and its brokenness and how people coming out of the military, coming from such a self-sacrificing, dedicated community oriented life into a me-too-ism, lack of community life in our country generally. And he's attributing that, rightly or wrongly, I'm not sure, but it makes some sense. Attributing to that, the post – PTSD depression. He points out that after 9/11 in New York City, the murder rate was cut in half, the suicide rate was cut in half because it was such – it was a greater sense of community. And I think Norwich has that sense of community that he's saying is missing. So, maybe Norwich 16 people should be prepared for the dysfunctional world they're entering and how to cope with it. JC: Now, after graduation, you went on to seminary. You never did join the military. WG: Right. JC: How did your training at Norwich prepare you for life? WG: Well, I think that's the same question as earlier. I think it prepared me for perseverance. I was a preacher at Norwich after I graduated from seminary. And, Herbert Spencer, my philosophy politics teacher, told me after the sermon that he was just amazed at how much more mature I was than I was at Norwich. And I believe that this may be true of graduate study generally that you learn to think in a more disciplined way than you did in college, which is not a commentary on Norwich necessarily but perhaps on our expectations of what college is supposed to do. And my experience in graduate school was reading a – I'm a big reader – and when I got there I took a speed reading course knowing that a huge amount of time was going to be spent reading. And it was very effective. But I believe part of what was happening to me was, in seminary I was learning how other people of great skill think. Doesn't mean that I bought their thought, but I knew how they were thinking. And I think that's – that was something that I – I would have to say that whatever I learned at Norwich, that deepened the thinking aspect of life that I received. JC: How do you think your professional life would have been different had you not been a Norwich graduate? WG: Well, that's good. I don't know. It could go back to perseverance. I've been a very outspoken person in my professional life. And, I think that could have been nurtured at Norwich, calling a spade a spade when I would see it, regardless of the consequences. And I think I sort of have a reputation in that way. Some people tell me that they are amazed at my courage, that I don't seem to be scared by what other people are scared of. And I think I was a very fearful person my first year at Norwich. And that may have – when I went to the summer camp training, I had what I regard as a very important experience. There were about 750 or 800 cadets. And we were taken into a field and told to yell as loud as we could. And so I was chosen of the three to be the regimental cadet colonel for marching all of the cadets from the barracks area to a parade area and doing the parade thing and marching back. And a regular army lieutenant took me – I didn't have any misgivings about this because part of the Norwich experience, even if you weren't in a command position, I was a private all first three years, was that you've seen people do this over and over again. So, you're ready to mimic what you see. And – but he took me over the trip I'd be taking, so we rehearsed. I knew what the commands were going to be but I'd hadn't known where I'd being going. So, we rehearsed the whole thing. 17 Now, I can tell you, as a priest, it became – that inspired me always to have wedding rehearsals. (Laughs) JC: (Laughs) WG: And the value of rehearsing is huge in my head. And I think that could be part of the Norwich experience. But, by the time I got to Ft. Gordon, Georgia, I was relatively fearless at, I think, a lot of the military stuff that other people were probably somewhat wary of because of the Norwich experience. And when I didn't go in the military, my feeling was, because of Norwich, I've done that. I'm not interested in doing it again. (Chuckles) JC: (Chuckles) WG: I want to get onto other things. JC: Do you think being a Norwich graduate opened doors for you that wouldn't have been open otherwise? WG: Well, that's a good question. I don't know. I also would say, and I think it's important to know this, that when I was there, partly the influence of this religion teacher, there were a high number of Norwich guys that went to seminary, and it could be partly the military because a big part of Sunday morning life is ritual. But – and I think it could be the emphasis on surface that the military had and Norwich has. And I don't know what the situation is now. I don't think being a minister today has the social significance that it once had. It's not something everybody's dying to do. But that, I think there was a – I would think that probably more people were going to seminary in those old days from that school than perhaps from others. JC: Do you think Norwich graduates have a special bond that other military or civilian schools don't have? WG: I don't know. JC: What about band (?) [1:14:33] company? Now I've heard – WG: Oh yes. Yes. Yes. JC: -- that kids have very close knit bonds. WG: Yes, yes. That's also true in my jazz life. You meet a jazz musician anywhere, you're totally at ease. And he may be totally untrustworthy but you don't know that and you're willing to trust him until he proves otherwise. And, yes, I would guess that the Norwich – certainly the band's people at Norwich this is true of. And it's just partly because you know – you both know what the other one has 18 been through. And, to a certain extent, I wouldn't be surprised if the same thing is true for all of the Norwich graduates. JC: Now, have you been involved with Norwich since you graduated? WG: I was part of the alumni association in the 80s. I was asked to be the baccalaureate speaker at a graduation in '86, when the president was – JC: General Todd? WG: Yes. General Todd. And, I've occasionally gone to the send offs of, and to the occasional (sic) when Schneider came to Bedford within the past year. And, that's what I think. JC: Do you stay in touch with any of your classmates? WG: I've got one that I stay in touch with, who has been forbidden from coming to the school because he threatened to tear off the veil of a Muslim – JC: Oh! (Laughs) WG: -- cadet. And I just don't agree with that at all. I think there's a lot of stupidity at work in the anti-Muslim feeling. And the real situation is that Saudi Arabian Wahhabism which merged the tribal culture of Saudi Arabia with Islam and which has been exported both to this country and to other parts of the world which has resulted in ISIS and such a bad reputation for Muslims. But, there you go. JC: What advice would you give a rook today on how to survive and thrive at Norwich? WG: (Laughs) They should try. JC: (Laughs) WG: Whatever it is. Keep trying. JC: Now, did you have any other relatives that attended Norwich? WG: No. JC: Is there anything else you'd like to add or have a comment? WG: I'll probably think of it after you leave. 19 JC: (Laughs) WG: (Laughs) JC: That's generally the way it goes. Alright, well I thank you very much for this interview. WG: You're welcome. It's been very enjoyable. JC: Thank you. (end of audio)

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Issue 69.1 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; The ApostolicI Visitation Adapting the Ignatia~i Exercises From Ygung and Old " Prac~tic'al Wisdom QUARTERLY 69.1 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue: with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue ~with one another about the holiness we try to live according to chariSms of Catholic religious life. AS Pope Paul V! said, our way of being church is _ . today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2010 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library" clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Ehgene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.1 2010 contents prisms 4 Prisms 6 16 the apostolic visitation The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious: A Visitator's Perspective M. Clare Millea ASCJ explains the purpose and process of the apostolic visitation of the U.S. institutes of women religious and its intended impetus to apostolic witness and vitality. The Apostolic Visitation: An Invitation to Intercultural Dialogue Kathleen Hughes RSCJidescribes the intercultural dialogue that provides the best framework for the apostolic visitation of United States women religious, a useful habit of heart, and some possible hope-filled outcomes. 31 47 adapting the ignatian exercises Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say J. Thomas Hamel SJ examines the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius to point out the subtle but consistent ways in which retreatants become authors of the Exercises, putting their own experience into words. Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Louis M. Savary expands the reading of St. Ignatius's Call of the King meditation through the incorporation of ideas from the Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Review for Religious 63 71 from young and old ~1 Gleanings from My First Ten Years Ann Marie Paul SCC celebrates her profession of perpetual vows after living religious life for ten years by sharing eight pieces of wisdom she has learned. Monasteries of Meteora Mary Frances Coady gives her visual and spiritual impressions of ancient traditions kept by Eastern Christian monastics on a rocky peninsula of Greece. 77 practical wisdom ~ Kindness, the Everyday Virtue " James H. Kroeger MM delves into kindness's depth of meaning and inexhaustible potential for increasing goodness anywhere. 90 Ten Ideas on Priesthood George Olivera OFMCap offers ways to consider our Christian priesthood that may be helpful to priests and for those who pray for them and who enjoy their ministry. 97 102 departments ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms as Songs of Praise Book Reviews 69.1 2010 prisms T Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States has elic-ited a lot of speculation about its purpose and intended outcome and roused various emotional responses from religious and laity alike. Some speculation allows for an honest effort on the part of the Vatican offices to eval-uate the Vatican II-inspired renewal efforts of U.S. women religious, their discerned change in choices of ministry or ways of ministering, and the reality of their meager vocation recruit-ment. Most people, even among the critics, acknowledge that U.S. women religious took seriously the renewal call issued by Vatican II and responded more wholeheartedly than the men religious and the rest of the U.S. church. Realizing that certain ministries no longer required the massive effort of sheer numbers, women religious followed the church's lead and their own original charisms by seeking to serve those marginalized in our current society makeup--the poor, the handicapped, women in dire straits--and by advocating for justice in many spheres. While many more needy people were being served, women religious often lost the visibility that accompanied their corpo-rate mission in schools and hospitals. Among a Review for Religious number of factors in American family life and culture, vocational recruitment suffered from the positive secu-lar possibilities of the feminist equality movement and from the continued limits imposed on women's roles and leadership in the church. There is no doubt that the U.S. church is as strong as it is because of the work and witness of women religious through the 19th and 20th centuries. Many are the veri-fied accounts of bishops and local pastors using and mis-using the work of religious women in their own chosen endeavors. The generous sacrifices of women religious in the U.S. church are documented and unforgettable. What now needs to be honored in the current, often still hidden and unacknowledged, ministry of women religious is their being the church's arms reaching out to a world-in-need. The witness of their apostolic lives cannot now be measured by institutions, corporate devotional emphases, or monastic garb. Apostolic reli-gious life cannot be well evaluated by monastic criteria, which seemingly inspire the current study. The theology of religious life has never adequately explained the breadth of religious-life development because it has retained monasticism as its norm. Church leadership has consistently found apostolic religious life to be second-class and deficient as measured against the monastic ideal. Perhaps the Vatican s~dy will be the occasion for a breakthrough in the understanding and acceptance of the breadth of apostolic religious life in the church of the 21st century. U.S. women religious will have offered the worldwide church a most precious gift of wisdom and insight into the true living of the Spirit-given charism of active religious life. David L. Fleming SJ 69.1 2010 the . a, postol c Visitation M. CLARE MILLEA The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious: A Visitator's Perspective How many times in our lives, while living through a particularly challenging situation, we reflect on earlier situations in which we felt stretched beyond our own limited resources and abilities. Unable to do anything but rely upon God in surrender and trust, we later realize that not only did the Lord sustain us beyond our imagining, but those very expe-riences taught us the relational and practical skills we would need in far more challenging circumstances to come. I have reflected often during the past year about how many of my personal experiences have shaped and honed the gifts I hope to bring to the Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious in the United States. M. Clare Millea ASCJ is the superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Her U.S. address is Mt. Sacred Heart; 295 Benham Street; Hamden, Connecticut 06514. Review for Religious During my early years in religious life, I learned to see beyond external limitations--such as those of the mentally challenged children and adults I lived with and served--and was able to truly respect and cherish, as they do, the inner beauty of each unique person. Much later, as the newly elected superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and before beginning dialogue or canonical visitation with each of my more than 1200 sisters, I made a whirlwind tour of the communities in the fourteen nations in which my sisters are missioned. I was welcomed into every faith community by lively music, colorful dance, lovely handmade gifts, and much jovial hugging. At one point, exhausted by travel, extreme changes of climate and cul-ture, and the strain of communicating in various lan-guages, I tearfully confided to a priest my difficulty in responding with enthusiasm to these endless outpour-ings of love. Father gently explained to me that his peo-ple needed to use exuberant gestures to express their joy and gratitude for visible signs of God's presence so that they would not succumb to the weight of their daily struggles for survival. That simple explanation was a truly graced moment for me, a key to entering into the world of those faith-filled people and many others whom I would later come to know. Moments such as these throughout my many years of congregational service have intensified in me the desire to synchronize the beating of my .heart with the heart of the other person, to understand, accept, and lovingly embrace her in her uniqueness. International living and travel have strengthened in me the liberating conviction that "my way" is not the only valid way or necessarily the best way to be or to do. While I still struggle at times to succinctly articulate my congregation's unique 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious charism of witnessing that God loves each person with the human and divine love of Jesus, I am continually awed to sense the charism coursing through the veins of every Apostle of the Heart of Jesus throughout the world. I feel constantly renewed and challenged by my sisters to authentic religious living while at the same time I try to discover with them how we can grow in personal holiness, effective gospel witness, and fruitful ministry in communion with the church. My recent appointment as apostolic visitator to the institutes of women religious in the United States, the first instance of a woman religious being delegated with apostolic authority to carry out such a service to the church, seems ovei'whelming at times. While my affir-mative response to this mandate from the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) requires considerable per-sonal sacrifice, I have embraced it as a joyful expression of that unconditional assent to the divine will that I freely offered to God, to the church, and to my supe-riors on the day of my religious profession. Personally and through the religious who assist me in carrying it out, I sincerely endeavor to encounter with holy respect the members of each of the religious institutes involved in the apostolic visitation. The Church's Pastoral Concern for Religious Life In the apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, Pope John Paul II clearly affirmed that consecrated life, with its variety of charisms and institutions, is a treasure which has its origin in the example and teachings of Jesus Christ. It is a gift of God the Father to the church through the Holy Spirit, a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the People of God, and an Review for Religious intimate part of the church's life, holiness, and mission.1 Women and men freely choose to live in institutes which are canonically erected by the competent authority of the church. Through the profession of ~ ,~ vows or other sacred bonds, according to the institute's proper law, they profess the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience and, through the charity ~ to which the coun-sels lead, are joined in a special way to ~ the church.2 On her - ~ part, the church has the duty of clarifying the identity, the vocation, and the particular mission of religious institutes and promoting their ecclesial communion? The apostolic visitation of institutes of women religious in the United States was promulgated with the express approval of Pope Benedict XVI.4 In a recent address to the members of the council for rela-tions between CICLSAL and the men's and women's International Unions of Superiors General, the Holy Father noted that religious communities are not exempt from the increasing difficulty encountered in proclaim-ing and witnessing to the gospel in our modern global-ized society. While acknowledging the difficult crisis that has affected many congregations by reason of the aging of members, a more or less pronounced decrease in the number of vocations, and a certain "spiritual and charismatic weariness," he indicated that the Holy Spirit The Church has the duty of clari~ing the identity, the vocation, and the particular mission of religious institutes an~d promoting their e~clesial communioh. 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious continues to inspire a new commitment to fidelity in long-established institutes and in new forms of religious consecration as well. He pointed out that authentic actualization of the founders' charism has resulted in a promising new ascetic, apostolic, and missionary impe-tus for many congregations.5 The current apostolic visitation can rightfully be seen as a pastoral desire of the Apostolic See to journey with religious congregations as they respond to Pope Benedict's renewed invitation to "start afresh from Christ.''6 In open and honest dialogue with the univer-sal church, the visitation is a means for congregations to evaluate their present reality with courage and truth, to rediscover their founding charism, and to live it in a more authentic manner appropriate for the present time. In particular, it offer~ major superiors and their sisters a privileged opportunity to present to the Apostolic See their congregation's unique charismatic identity, as well as their communal and ministerial expression of religious life. It likewise affords the Apostolic See a way to listen to the joys, accomplishments, hopes, and concerns of the sisters and, together with the religious themselves, to seek strategies for enhancing the vitality of the individual institutes. In order to attain beneficial results, the dialogue with the Apostolic See must begin with an honest self-evaluation of the congregation's lived fidelity to its internal norms and to universal church law. The grace of the apostolic visitation can only occur in a climate of prayer, docility, open dialogue, and collaboration, with a sincere desire on the members' part to examine the congregation's strengths and weaknesses and to effect changes which would enhance the expression of its charism and ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Phases of the Apostolic Visitation The apostolic visitation is being carried out in four phases. In Phase 1, which lasted from April through July 2009, more than 75 percent of the superiors general whose institutes are included in the visitation responded to the invitation of Cardinal Franc Rodd, prefect of CICLSAL, to enter into personal dialogue with the visitator. Attentive and respectful listening to the hopes and dreams of those wonderful congregational leaders deepened my esteem for the women religious who courageously and faith-fully witness to their foundresses' and founders' spiritual patrimony and spend themselves in generous service to the church. The major superiors' love for and pride in their sisters were clearly evident as they shared their collective stoW and vision. These interviews and letters helped me formulate more precisely the objectives and procedures of the visitation. In July 2009 the Instrumenturn laboris7 or working document for the apostolic visitation was released, out-lining its nature, purpose, and procedures. Major supe-riors were encouraged to use the reflection questions contained in the working document to engage their sisters in a. process of self-evaluation regarding their congregation's unique identity, their present experience of community life, their mission and ministry, and their hopes and concerns for the future. During Phase 2 of the apostolic visitation, major superiors were asked to complete a questionnaire regard-ing fundamental aspects of their congregation's identity, present lifestyle, and future projections. The questions were similar in content to those already suggested for community reflection in the Instrumenturn laboris and were based on the model of religious life proposed in post-Vatican Council II documents on religious life8 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious and the Code of Canon Law. The questionnaire was composed of three sections. Part A requested statistical data about the congregation itself, the demographics of its members, living arrangements, care for elderly and infirm members, and ministerial presence. Its results have been collected by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), which will prepare an aggregate report of the findings for all reporting institutes, respect-ing the ahonymity of the individual congregations. The questions in Part B of the questionnaire offered the major superiors the opportunity to share with the Apostolic See the unique reality of their congrega-tion, They were designed to permit the major superi-ors to express each congregation's unique way of living the evangelical counsels, in accord with their founding charism and their own fundamental documents, approved by the church. The questions also sought basic informa-tion regarding governance, vocation promotion and for-marion policies, the spiritual and common life, mission and ministry, and financial administration. In addition, major superiors were invited to offer further explanations or comments to express their reality more completely. In Part C of the questionnaire, major superiors were asked to submit basic and supplementary congregational documents, such as constitutions, ancillary norms, for-marion plans, and chapter decisions. A complete copy of the questionnaire is available on the Apostolic Visitation website.9 The canonical model of religious life which under-lies the questions does not fully correspond to the lived reality of certain institutes. The questionnaire extended an invitation to those communities which appear to be evolving into a new form of consecrated life to describe their emerging expression of vowed living.1° Honest and Review for Religious respectful conversation between the institute and the Apostolic See could predictably lead to greater clarity of purpose and identity. During Phase 2 the apostolic visitator also extended an invitation to bishops and individual members of reli-gious communi-ties to share their observations. Input from any persons whose lives have been affected by women religious is also welcomed. All such contributions are assured confi-dentiality. A core team of religious who are aiding the visitator is currently evaluating the data received in preparation for the subsequent phases of the apostolic visitation. The third phase will begin in the spring of 2010 with on-site visits to a representative sample of institutes con-ducted by teams of religious visitors who will act indi-vidually and collectively in the name of the Apostolic See. The visitors were chosen from among the many fine religious nominated by superiors general and others and represent a variety of congregations and areas of exper-tise. Before conducting the on-site visits, all potential visitors will have participated in an orientation workshop during which they will pronounce the public profession of faith and the oath of fidelity to the Apostolic See that are made by those assuming offices to be exercised in the church's name2~ This profession carries with it a special grace which will strengthen the visitors in their delicate i~c: ,Adore~,team of religious who are ~aiding the visitator is currently ,,evaluating the data received in ~:preparation for the subsequent phases of the apostolic visitation. 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious task. It will assist them to faithfully carry out their role in communion with the sound teachings and practice of the Catholic Church and not according to their own private judgment or subjective ideology.'2 The on-site visitors will engage in dialogue primarily with the members of leadership teams and a representa-tive group of the sisters, eliciting their vision of the joys, challenges, and obstacles the religious face in seeking to live authentically their charismatic identity. The details of the on-site visit will be arranged with the congrega-tions to be visited in such a way as to afford the visitors a broad and objective picture of the life and mission of the congregation and its impact on the local church. The visitation team will formulate a report for the apostolic visitator in which they will seek to articulate the accom-plishments, the key strengths, and the challenges of the institute as revealed in their dialogue and will include any recommendations which they consider appropriate. In Phase 4 of the visitation, drawing from the data gathered in the previous phases, the apostolic visitator will prepare for CICLSAL a summary report of each of the participating congregations, whether or not they will have received an on-site visit. Each of the congrega-tions will receive feedback for the purpose of promoting their charismatic identity and apostolic vitality in ongo-ing dialogue with the local and universal church. There is much good news to tell about the history and present reality of religious life in the United States. There are also great challenges to be faced so that reli-gious may continue to offer selfless service to the church and to the people who long for our unique witness to Christ through our lives, works, and words. May the fervent prayer of the church sustain women religious on the path of ongoing conversion and renewal that they Review for Religious may be a more vibrant presence and effective instrument of evangelization into the future. As did Pope John Paul in the conclusion to VTta consecrata, we entrust all reli-gious to the Virgin of the Visitation, that the church may always be gifted with generous women who, as lov-ing consecrated persons, will continue to bring Jesus to the poor, the hungry, those without hope, the little ones, and all who seek Jesus with a sincere heart.13 Notes ~ See John Paul II, Vita consecrata, §§1 & 3. 2 See Code of Canon Law, c. 573, §2. 3 See Vita consecrata, §4. 4 Decree, Prot. N. 16905/2008, at . 5 Benedict XVI, Address to Members of the Council for Relations between the CICLSAL and the USG and IUSG, 2/18/2008, at . 6 Ibid. See also CICLSAL, instruction Starting Afresh front Christ (2002). 7 To obtain a complete text of the Instrumentum laboris, see . 8 See especially John Paul II, Vita consecrata (1996); CICLSAL, Starting Afresh from Christ (2002); CICLSAL, The Service of Authority and Obedience (2008). 9 See and . ~0 See Questionnaire, Part B, Section 1, E: "Is your institute mov-ing toward a new form of religious life? If so, how is this new form specifically related to the church's and your institute's understanding of religious life?" ~' See ; Origins 28 (1998): 163-164. 12 See Lumen gentium, §25. ~3 See I/ita consecrata, §I 12. 69.1 2010 KATHLEEN HUGHES The Apostolic Visitation: An Invitation to Intercultural Dialogue EOtxrar owrodmineanry r etliimgieosu.s in the United States, these are In February 2009 Cardinal Franc Rod~, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), stunned American women religious by announcing "an Apostolic Visitation of the Generalates, Provincialates, and Centers of Initial Formation of the Principal Religious Institutes of Women in the United States of America." The pur-pose of the visitation is, according to Cardinal Rod4, "to look into the quality of the life of apostolic congre-gations of women religious in the United States.''1 Kathleen Hughes, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. . Review for Religious Scarcely had this news been absorbed when a second announcement compounded the surprise and confusion of United States women religious. In March 2009 the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) was informed by letter that Cardinal William Levada, prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, had initiated a doctrinal investigation of LCWR's activities and initiatives, particularly citing the tenor and content of various addresses given at the LCWR annual assemblies in recent years. While the visitation of women religious and the investigation of LCWR are distinct, their simultaneity was not lost on many observers, and it has been reported that Cardinal Levada's decision to investigate LCWR was made while in communication with Cardinal Rod~. These two initiatives stirred up questions, a variety of feelings, and--given that those principally affected did not participate in the planning of these investigations--a broad range of speculation about motivations and pos-sible (or probable) outcomes. This article will focus on only one of these initiatives, the Apostolic Visitation. The first section will consider the process of the visitation and the storm that arose as knowledge of it spread across the country. The second section will offer a perspective with which to understand and prepare for the visitati6n, namely, as an invitation to intercultural dialogue. The third section will suggest a habit of heart which may prove useful for visitors and visited alike. The concluding section will propose some potentially beneficial outcomes of the visitation. The Visitation and Initial Responses to It On the face of it, the visitation is a fairly straight-forward two-year process. Cardinal Rodd appointed 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Aposto.lic Visitation The visitation "is intended to comprehensively assess and encourage the growth of Catholic institutes of women religious in the United States who engage in apostolic works." Sister M. Clare Millea, superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to oversee the visitation. Sister Clare announced three phases for the visitation. The first phase, completed in July 2009, offered major superiors of orders of women religious in the United States the opportunity to meet with Sister Clare in per-son or by phone or letter to express their hopes, ioys, concerns, and other observations about their orders; approximately fifty-two percent of them did so.2 The second phase was a question-naire, completed in November 2009. This questionnaire solicited a wide range of empirical data from every apos-tolic order of women in the United States, and asked for whatever observations and aspirations they wanted to express. Compliance with this second phase varied widely across the country. Because of concern expressed by many major superiors, the request for personnel and financial information was dropped from this phase.The third phase of the visitation, on-site visits of "a rep-resentative sample of religious institutes,''3 will begin in the spring of 2010. For this phase Sister Clare will be joined by other religious, women and some men, who will form teams of visitors. After on-site visits are complete, Sister Clare will send Cardinal Rod4 a confi-dential report summarizing all the information gleaned Review for Religious from the visitation's three phases. In addition, individual confidential reports of all congregations will be pre-pared for the cardinal. The reports of those congrega-tions receiving on-site visits will be more extensive. The visitation's website (www.apostolicvisitaton. org) offers both the reason for the visitation and its objective. The visitation "is intended to comprehen-sively assess and encourage the growth of Catholic institutes of women religious in the United States who engage in apostolic works." Why a visit? Because "reli-gious life has passed through challenging times. The Congregation for Consecrated Life is aware that many new congregations have emerged in the United States while many others have decreased in membership or have an increased median age. Apostolic works have also changed significantly because of societal changes. These and other areas need to be better understood and assessed in order to safeguard and promote consecrated life in the United States.''4 It sounds so benign. Why the furor from so many quarters? The anguish of many people, religious women and a throng of their supporters and friends as well, springs from the very nature of an apostolic visitation, some-thing generally intended for the correction of abuses. The lack of participation of major superiors in the visit's design, the secrecy about those chiefly responsible for it, and wonderment about its conclusions--all of this causes concern. What abuse exactly is this visitation meant to correct? Most women religious believe they have been living faithfully that form of religious life which emerged from their obedience to the church's mandate for renewal at Vatican Council II, and which is distilled in the congregations' constitutions--rules 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation of life previously approved by CICLSAL, the very con-gregation now mandating the visitation. Furthermore, congregations have built into their governance certain internal structures (general chapters, for example, or the periodic visits of those in leadership) for the protection of their spiritual heritage, for evaluation of their fidel-ity to their constitutions, and for assessment of people's needs in the light of the gospel so as to establish min-isterial priorities. Women religious in the United States have also embraced a pattern of discernment and decision-making which welcomes the participation of every member. For many religious congregations, transparency and collegi-ality have become a way of life. Why, then, a visitation initiated without the collaboration of those being vis-ited, lacking collegiality, shrouded in secrecy? The apos-tolic visitation of women religious and the concurrent investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious make many feel beleaguered, others fearful, others suspicious or angry. There are other voices being heard, of course. Some think it is high time someone examined what is hap-pening among women religious--whether the vows are being lived, whether prayer is still the core of religious life, whether women religious should be working out-side institutional church structures, and whether women religious should be advocating for those on the margins or promoting issues of justice within and beyond the church. Still others believe that the visitation provides an opportunity for women religious to go more deeply into issues of substance. The forty questions posed by the visitation's Instrumentum laboris, that is, its working paper, touch on everything from charism, vows, lead- Reviem for Religious ership, formation, spiritual life, and community living to mission, ministry, and financial administration,s For many women religious today, conversations on these topics happen less frequently than they would wish because of the multiple demands placed on their time and energy. There is always the danger that values taken for granted or left unarticulated become inoperative. Conversations on the essential elements of religious life may help participants discern anew where the Spirit is leading. These conflicting voices and divergent responses mirror the church at large not only in response to the visitation but on __ myriad issues large and small. Clearly, we need to find a way to talk together, to speak with integ-rity and honesty about matters of substance with those who may not share our worldview. Above . all, we need to find a way to reframe the conversation which this visitation invites us to have among ourselves and with our visitors. Even though the visitation is limited to the United States, and visiting teams will be formed from members of U.S. orders, the visitation is sure to find a range of "cultures" among us because of differing generations, theologies, spiritualities, forma-tion experiences, educational opportunities, and so on. The growing discipline of intercultural dialogue may We :need to find a way to talk together, to speak with integrity and honesty about matters of substance with those Who may not share our worldview. 21 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation provide the best framework and some guidance for our exchange. Intercultural Dialogue: A Definition and Some Guidelines Choose any Internet search engine and you will find thousands of entries on intercultural dialogue, offering various definitions of it and rules for engaging in it. The following definition is representative: Intercultural dialogue is an open and respectful exchange of views between individuals and groups belonging to different cultures that leads to a deeper understanding of the other's global perception. In this definition, "open and respectful" means "based on the equal value of the partners"; "exchange of views" stands for every type of interaction that reveals cul-tural characteristics; "groups" stands for every type of collective that can act through its representatives (family, community, associations, peoples); "culture" includes everything relating to ways of life, customs, beliefs, and other things that have passed on to us for generations, as well as the various forms of artistic creation; "world perception" stands for values and ways of thinking.6 Intercultural dialogue invites all interested parties to an open and respectful exchange with a view to deeper mutual understandings. Intercultural dialogue promotes esteem for diversity and insists that "different" does not mean "deficient." It fosters mutuality in the face of unequal power relations and forges partnerships in a common cause. And surely the most profound outcome looked for is the transformation of all who take part-- interior conversions that make room for changed forms, images, and behaviors and the freedom to see new pos-sibilities and to make choices that promote growth. Revie~v for Religious Among some simple rules for intercultural exchange, the most important is that of active listening, listening to one another with respect and openness, indeed with reverence. Each religious community being visited has a unique history shaped by the founder and her or his culture and circumstances. Each order has a unique charism and spirit, a set of traditions, beliefs, customs, even a particular "vernacular language" shaped over the years from the teachings and writings of members who have gone before, prophets and mystics among them, who have had a formative influence on the institute. Each order has a rule of life which is precious to the members, having been carefully composed and then gradually finding its way into their hearts. There may be a common set of questions in the Instrumentum laboris and a range of issues to be explored during on-site visits, but the answers will be as varied as the wonderful variety of religious communities which for almost two millennia have grown up in response to the Spirit's prompfings regarding particular needs of the day and the place. There are no "right" answers, but there will be many ways that sisters will express their following of Christ within a particular rule of life. The visitors, too, will have specific and precious religious heritages that shape their understanding and expecta-tions of religious life. Active listening--listening that is open to the hearts of others in the dialogue~is required of visitors and the visited alike. A second rule for the dialogue is to speak from one's own experience, not in the language of "they" or even "we," but "I." I believe, I think, I choose, I struggle with, I have come to appreciate, even I don't know or I am not sure. The living of religious life is an imprecise science, dependent as it is in the last analysis on each 69.1 2010 Hughes * The Apostolic Visitation 24 one's intimate and unique relationship with God. We grow into our understanding of prayer, the vows, com-munal life and mission during the course of years of choices made before God, in the power of the Spirit, and in communion with one another. Each member's experience and expression of religious life has been shaped by so many different influences, chief among them prayer, community life, ministerial experiences, and wise guides along the way. Rarely, if ever, can we read one another's mind or heart. Best, then, to speak only our own truth. A third rule for the dialogue is not to fear differ-ences but to welcome a respectful challenge, a thought-ful follow-up question. Particular external choices of lifestyle--for example, regarding housing options or ministerial options or the use of money--are less impor-tant than the reasons such choices have been made, the communal discernments which prompted this or that decision. In some instances clearly life-altering decisions have been made by local communities or whole con-gregations after long and serious prayer and reflection. These choices do not admit of true or false, yes or no, but require a reflective exchange whose eventual reward will be deeper insight. A fourth rule of intercultural dialogue is to come to common agreement about the scope of the conversa-tion. Both the Instrumentum laboris and the question-naire of phase two of the visitation present a wide range of topics for personal reflection. Not all of these topics, however, were appropriate for comment in the ques-tionnaire of phase two, especially if major superiors were in possession of information gleaned in personal manifestations of conscience, nor should some topics be included in the on-site dialogues of phase three. Review for Religious There are canonical norms which govern the extent of the dialogue. Subjects such as the frequency of one's sacramental participation are more appropriate to the internal forum and, in any case, are beyond the scope of the visitation. Furthermore, any questions with poten-tially incriminating consequences may also be politely deflected. Participants in an intercultural dialogue must know and accept the boundaries of the conversation; in an apostolic visitation, the boundaries are demarcated in canon law.7 Finally, intercultural dialogue is best and most fruitfully employed when all the participants have had an opportunity to shape the dialogue and accept the rules which bind the par-ticipants. In the case of the apostolic visi-tation, certain rules have been imposed from the outset which are troubling to some of those expected to partici-pate. Especially neu-ralgic among women religious who are used to openness ¯ Participants in an intercultural dialogue must know and accept the .boundaries of the conversation; ~in .an apostolic visitation, ithe boundaries are ~,~demarcated in canon law. and transparency is the secrecy surrounding the visita-tion's motivation and its final reports. Some opportunity for participants to negotiate the rules of the visitationt[ would be a good-faith gesture to women religious who ~ welcome courageous, gende, and respectful dialogue as partners with a church they love. 69.1 2010 Hughes * Tbe Apostolic Visitation A Useful Habit of Heart The habit of heart I want to recommend in prepara-tion for the visitation comes from my own experience of an earlier visitation. More than twenty years ago, I was part of the first apostolic visitation of seminar-ies and houses of formation in the United States. In 1981 the Holy See appointed Bishop John A. Marshall of Burlington, Vermont, to serve as apostolic visitator for this process, which took nearly seven years from announcement to formal conclusion. At the time of the visit, I was a member of the faculty of the Catholic Theological Union (CTU) in Chicago, teaching in the department of Word and Worship. Bishop Marshall himself led the party of visitors to CTU, and I was invited by the administration to meet with him. My visit with Bishop Marshall was not a happy expe-rience for me, perhaps because intercultural dialogue had not yet been discovered. Upon my being asked "What are you doing here?" my half hour was spent, about equally, in parrying questions about the alleged behavior of oth-ers on the faculty and staff and in defending my inter-pretation of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal and other liturgical norms. Too quickly our conversation ended, and I realized almost at once that I had not had a chance to communicate my appreciation of CTU, its extraordinary faculty and student body, and its commit-ment to educating faithful ministers for the post-Vatican II world church. Furthermore I had been given no oppor-tunity to speak of my own contribution to the mission of CTU. I asked for and was granted a second visit. Why put myself through that experience twice? The words of 1 Peter 3:15 express it best. "Always be pre-pared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gen- Review for Religious tleness and reverence." I wanted to give an account of my hope, based on a faculty where intellectual rigor and faith, were wed, on a student body of women and men from all over the world preparing to commit themselves to a life of service of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and on the local church in Chicago, where the leadership of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin gave extraordinary witness to the very qualities of holiness and gospel service we were trying to nurture in ourselves and instill in our students. For many women religious, hope is what has kept us faithful to this privileged journey in the midst of the numerous challenges of these last several decades. Changing demographics, underfunded ministries, elder care decision-making, conversations towards merger, cus-toms no longer viable, and ministerial needs forever out-stripping our human and material resources--all of these realities have tested congregations and their leaders. At the same time, that basic love and longing for God which brought us to the threshold of religious life still drives us, together, to seek and find God in contemplative prayer, in a life of common purpose, in zeal which keeps even the oldest among us focused on mission. Hope is the glue in religious life today. That hope must be the undercurrent of every exchange during on-site visits. If our visitors discover little else, they should leave with the conviction that hope is why we came to religious life and why we stay and why we get out of bed each morning and why, despite all the challenges and limitations we experience, we try every day to be God's heart on earth. "Always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence." How wise of 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ The Apostolic V'~itation the author of First Peter to link hope to gentleness and reverence, two other habits of heart which we do well to foster. If we do so, the intercultural dialogues in our future will accomplish in all of us, visitors and visited, great transformations of head and heart and mission. Hopeful Expectation What might be expected at the conclusion of this apostolic visitation? Approximately three hundred forty communities of apostolic women religious will have con-tributed to a composite picture of religious life in the United States. Sister M. Clare Millea has the unenviable task of summarizing all the information and impressions gleaned from her visits with major superiors, from the empirical data tabulated from many questionnaires, and from the reports of numerous on-site visits to moth-erhouses and houses of formation. This composite report together with individual reports of the religious orders will be presented to Cardinal Franc Rod~ and the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life. It is to be hoped that major superiors and their councils will have had an opportu-nity to see these reports, to correct factual errors, and to participate inthe assembling of recommendations before their formal presentation to Cardinal Rode. Then what? Here are some possible hope-filled outcomes, first on the institutional level. The Instrumentum laboris poses some thoughtful questions about institutional sponsor-ship, care of the elderly, ongoing formation resources, and so on. In the course of the visitation, it is possible that some "best practices" might emerge--the kind of information that the Leadership Conference of Women Religious has worked to surface and circulate among its Review for Religious members for many years. While respecting the auton-omy of each institute, congregations with similar proj-ects or needs might be invited to consult with other congregations that have addressed similar issues with success. Another institutional prospect might be that those communities no longer viable because of a lack of either personnel or financing might be given the sup-port they need to make decisions for their future. On the personal level, the visitation could have a profound outcome. The Instrumenturn laboris for this visitation has a long series of thoughtful questions for personal study and prayer. These questions touch on the essence of religious life with two serious omissions: contemplation and other forms of solitary prayer are not mentioned, nor is there any reference to the quality and tone of community life, only to religious exercises performed in common. Apart from those lacunae, the document together with its numerous citations of other documents from the Apostolic See is, on balance, a rich resource for reflection and prayer and for conversa-tions within and across communities and congregations. Whether a congregation receives an on-site visit or not, this process has the potential for renewal among us. It also has the possibility of instilling in us a deeper real-ization of our place in the church and a deeper appre-ciation of our work as collaborators with our ordained and professed brothers in the public life of the church. And is it foolish to hope for one last outcome? Is it possible that this Apostolic Visitation might conclude with a resounding "thank you" to nearly sixty thou-sand women who have lived religious life as faithfully as nature and grace could achieve, making God's love known through their ministries and by their very lives? For this, let us pray to the Lord. 29 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation Notes ~ Letter of Cardinal Franc Rod~ to the Superiors General of Congregations of Women Religious in the United States, 2 February 2009. 2 Of approximately 340 eligible communities, 177 responded through visits or letters to Phase One. See the Apostolic Visitation web-site "Update on the Progress of Phase 3 See Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, Instrumentum Laboris for Apostolic Visitation of the General Houses, Provincial Houses, and Centers of Initial Formation of the Principal Religious Institutes of Women in the United States of America. Protocol No. 16805/2008. 4 The Apostolic Visitation website, Frequently Asked Questions. s A copy of the Instrumentum laboris is available on the Apostolic Visitation website. 6 European Roma Information Office, White Paper on Intercultural Dialogue. 7 See the Resource Center for Religious Institutes, The Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States: A Canonical Reflection. 9 March 2009. Review for Religious j. THOMAS HAMEL Discovering What St. Ignatius Does Not Say Having accompanied a number of people on retreat for quite a few years--the ordained, the married and single, religious of various congre-gations-- I continue to delight in seeing that people unacquainted with Ignatius's little book actually mirror it in their own retreat experi-ence. Along with those who are quite famil-iar with Ignatius's words ("Divine Majesty," "God our Lord," "Creator and Lord," "Two Standards," and so forth), they have a retreat experience that is personal, profound, and Ignatian. In this way the Spiritual Exercises show themselves to be primarily oral. The "annotations" that introduce them appear to be the result of conversations throughout the four Weeks of retreat. What happens to the retreatants is usually the very thing Ignatius j. Thomas Hamel SJ last wrote for us in 2008, in our 67.2 issue. His address remains College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. adapting the ignati.an exercises 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say How Jesus Christ is present in creation is how he: is present in the Eucharist. hoped would happen. Retreatants become authors of the Exercises, putting their own experience into words. Enlightened by graces asked for and received, and lis-tened to by their director, they gradually own the experi-ence they has been graced with. "For it is not so much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but rather the intimate feeling and relishing of things.''1 Being led to search out and find in ourselves the desires and ways of God is the touchstone of the Exercises. Ignatius's sober language actually encour-ages us to go beyond his words, and yet at times his notes and suggestions seem like an overload. He takes note of our waking up and going to sleep. He comments on the way we take meals. He pays attention to the warmth of the sun in winter and the effect of closing the shut-ters of our room. His interest in physical posture seems as modern as yoga lessons, not to mention his sensitive and insightful responses to inner changes and emo-tions, high and low and in between. In the end, how-ever, Ignatius does not tell us what to do. He will not interfere with God's coming and communicating (§ 15). Like John the Baptist at Jesus' baptism, Ignatius simply disappears so that retreatants may (like Jesus) hear the Father's voice and feel the Holy Spirit descending like a dove (Mk 1:10-11). A striking instance of Ignatius disappearing in the Exercises is the Principle and Foundation: "The human person is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Review for Religiotls Lord and by so doing to save his or her soul . One must use created things insofar as they help towards one's end, and free oneself from them insofar as they are obstacles to one's end. To do this we need to make ourselves indifferent to all created things" (§23). A subtle glory radiates from the name "God our Lord." It refers to the Trinity, and we know from Ignatius's "autobiography" or Reminiscences~ what great devotion he felt when praying to the Blessed Trinity, often,.with prayers and sobs (Rent §28). If this happened when he saw three keys on a keyboard, what might he have experienced before the triad of praise, reverence, and service of God? What Ignatius does not say here is revealed in the poetry of a mystical experience at Manresa. There is only one way he looks upon the gift of creation: "Once the way in which God had created the world was repre-sented in his understanding, with great spiritual joy: it seemed to him he was seeing a white thing, from which some rays were coming out, and that God was making light out of it" (Rent §29). He also saw "with his interior eyes some things like white rays which were coming from above as the body of the Lord was being raised at Mass" (Rent §29). How Jesus Christ is present in creation is how he is present in the Eucharist. The One who alone can praise, rever-ence, and serve the eternal Father is Creator and Lord (§5). Annotation 5 was traditionally given along with the Principle and Foundation at the beginning of the retreat, and so the glory of Jesus, Creator and Lord, pervades the Principle and Foundation. How appropri-ate that Ignatius would tap our generosity and openness at the beginning of retreat by having us offer our desires and liberty to our Creator and Lord! 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say When Ignatius first arrived at the Benedictine Abbey of Montserrat, he made a general confession that lasted three days. Just how long was his list of sins? If one thing stands out in the First Week, it is the repeated reference to many sins: "How many times I deserved to be damned forever on account of my many sins" (§48). "Numberless other people have gone to hell for fewer sins than I have committed" (§52). "I look at myself. the source of many sins and evils" (§58). Rather than making a theological statement about sin, Ignatius seems to be pointing to his own spiritual journey, without actually saying so. So aware of the mal-ice of sin, he cannot but put into stark language the hor-ror of even one grave sin against one's Creator and Lord. M1 the while, Ignatius never loses sight of God's power, justice, wisdom, and goodness (§59). Suddenly we have a picture of Ignatius hugging himself in sheer wonder and joy before the whole range of created beings. Who are we, prayed over by angels and saints? Who are we, kept alive by earth and sky, stars and sun and moon and " the animal kingdom? (§60). What to do but talk to our Creator and Lord about mercy, and thank God for giv-ing us life to this very moment. When Ignatius left Montserrat after making a gen-eral confession, little did he realize that his own First Week was just beginning. Manresa was not in his plans, but it surely was in God's. There in Manresa the chiv-alrous ex-knight had to be knocked down by scruples. Slowly and painfully he had to learn he was no lon-ger in charge of anything, not even his own sinfulness. Instead of feeling duty-bound to keep on confessing his sins, he had to leave them to God. We can only wonder how many times Ignatius felt that the Lord "willed that he wake up as if from sleep," ever so slowly learning Review for Religious "the difference in kind of spirits through the lessons God had given him," so that at last "he decided, with great clarity, not to confess anything from the past any more. Thus from that day onward he remained free of those scruples, holding it for certain that our Lord in his mercy had willed to liberate him" (Rein §25). "As if from sleep" aptly describes Ignatius recu-perating from the wounds of Pamplona in his home at Loyola. He was given over to daydreaming. Tales of chivalry would foster his fantasies, but the only books available to him were Ludolph the Carthusian's Life of Christ and Jacobus de Voragine's account of lives of the saints. For the first time, in the Flos Sanctorum (or Golden Legend), Ignatius read about the knights of God who did great deeds in the service of the eter-nal Prince, Christ Jesus. Ignatius, it seems, woke up to hear the call of the eternal Lord and King of all people everywhere. Seeing "with the eyes of the imagination the synagogues, towns, and villages where Christ our Lord went preaching" (§91) leads us to see our world here and now immediately present to the risen Lord Jesus calling each of us in particular. The geography of the Kingdom goes from the Holy Land to the world at large and ends up "before your infinite Goodness, and before your glorious Mother and all the saintly men and women of the court of heaven" (§98). The grace not to be deaf to his call is an enormous grace. Summoned to know, love, and follow Jesus of Nazareth means a life-time journey that includes being with Jesus suffering and dying, rising and ascending. The desire to distinguish oneself in loyal dedica-tion is itself a grace. But where does such a desire come from? Before the Kingdom meditation, the last use of the phrase "infinite Goodness" was in the context of sin: the 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say Ignatius does not e~cpect that this offering of oneself will happen right away. horror of sinning "against the infinite Goodness" (§52). Here we find "before your infinite Goodness." The Lord's favor and help are clearly at work in the prayer of oblation (§98). Surely Ignatius himself is among those who desire to distinguish themselves, though he does not say this. David Fleming captures the energy and emotion of the prayer: "Those who are of great heart and are on fire with zeal to follow Jesus" (~97).3 Of course, Ignatius does not expect that this offer-ing of oneself will happen right away, or even in the same words. What is of great moment is the coming together of desire, feel-ing, and imagination, radiating in some myste-rious way the glory of the risen Jesus. Imagine the change of feeling from having sinned against infi-nite Goodness to having a ~ heart on fire with zealous . desires and seeing in faith the Mother of Jesus in glory along with all the saints waiting to hear what I want to say. Among the saints that Ignatius read about at Loyola was St. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch. The account of his life opens: "The name Ignatius comes from the Latin ignem patiens, which means being on fire with love of God.''4 For Ignatius of Loyola ignem patiens describes the Second, Third, and Fourth Weeks of the Exercises. In contemplating the mysteries of Jesus' life, I am reminded of the Song of Songs: "How right it is to love you" (Sg 1:4). Such assurance is the fruit of inte-rior knowing nourished and fed by desire, feeling, and imagination. In the Second Week the fifth of each day's Review for Religious prayer periods highlights the imagination. In the prayer of the senses, we are to imagine what the three Divine Persons are saying, what our Lady is saying to her new-born at his birth (§123). In this way we are further drawn into their pres-ences, where we may pause to imagine what we could say to the Holy Trinity, or to the Mother of Jesus, or to the Newborn. During the retreat we speak from different positions, whether as friend, servant, or sin-ner (§54), not to mention as child, as beloved, and so forth. In our prayer of the senses and in the colloquies we make, an oral history is taking shape. The same is true of repetitions. In contrast to all that Ignatius says about preparation for prayer, along with detailed aids to prayer, he has very little to say about the repetitions. He clearly expects, however, that something will happen. These are his words: After the preparatory prayer and two preambles, repeat the First and Second Exercises, noting and dwelling upon the points where I have felt greater consolation or desolation or greater spiritual relish. (§62) After the preparatory prayer and the three pre-ambles, the repetitions of Exercises 1 and 2 will be made, attention always being given to any more important places where one has experienced new insight, consolation, or desolation. (§ 118) Two repetitions will be made on the First and Second Contemplations at the times of Mass and Vespers. (§204) Listening to the "sounds" of movements is at the heart of repetition. The peace and quiet that flow from a sense of being so loved by God is like hearing water falling upon a sponge; agitation, disturbance, any resistance to God is like hearing water fall upon a stone (§335). In the meditation on the Two Standards, Ignatius has 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say a great deal to say and little is left to the imagination. Lucifer is described as "sitting on a throne of fire and smoke in Babylon, while in a great plain of the region of Jerusalem stands Christ our Lord, his appearance comely and gracious" (§§138, 140, 144), who "selects apostles, disciples, etc. and sends them out over the world spreading his sacred doctrine" (§145). Christ our Lord, leader of all good, draws us to spiritual poverty and to the surprising joy of being chosen to imitate his humility and so to come to know the true life. In the first contemplation of the Second Week, a battle was already alluded to with people living in great blindness, wounding, killing, and going to hell, etc. (§106). The enemy of human nature is clearly at work sending demons to every region of the world to get peo-ple to crave riches and honors, thereby ending up with swollen pride. In contrast are the goodness of spiritual and actual poverty and the consolation of being allowed to share in the insults and rejection that Christ suffered. Could it be that here is the seed of the Suscipe prayer? When growing up in Nazareth, did Jesus himself begin to pray the Suscipe and Ignatius heard it? May we imag-ine the Suscipe becoming the song of the beloved dis-ciples when they are fishing on the Sea of Galilee, or all the more when they are sent out to preach? (§281.3). They were to travel without gold or silver, and Ignatius adds the abbreviation "etc." (Versio Prima text). It is noteworthy that "etc." occurs over forty times in the Exercises, chiefly in the Vulgate text, and thirteen times in the Reminiscences. The et cetera's in the Exercises may be nothing more than space savers. They might, however, also be an invitation to complete a thought, a sentence, or a scriptural quotation. In the opening days of the Second Week, the autograph text mentions "etc." Review for Religious twice, while in the Vulgate text it occurs fourteen times. "The Blessed Virgin burst with joy in this canticle: 'My soul magnifies the Lord, etc.'" (§263). It would seem that we are being invited to complete her canticle. At the birth of Jesus "all of a sudden a multitude of the celestial militia joined the angel, praising God and saying: 'Glory to God in the highest, etc.'" (§264). The words "and on earth peace among those whom he favors" are left to us to sing, all the while imagining ourselves as poor servants waiting on Mary and Joseph. Another unnamed angel comes to the shepherds nearby: "I announce to you a great joy, etc. Today a Savior is born for you, etc. After their visit they returned, 'giv-ing glory and praise to God, etc.'" (§265). Later, in the temple, Simeon took the child in his arms, blessed God, and said, "Now, Lord, let your servant go, etc." (§268). As we complete his Nunc Dimittis, are we holding the Child? Later still, after the unexpected night journey, etc., into Egypt, the Holy Family is back in Nazareth, where the Child grows in wisdom, age, and grace etc. (§271). These texts, replete with et cetera's, nourish our desires, feelings, and imagination in reflecting upon the mysteries of Jesus' early life. During all those years at Nazareth, I wonder if Jesus ever climbed Mount Tabor, which is fairly close by. There came a day on that mountain when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of his three dearest dis-ciples, Peter, James, and John. Upon hearing a resound-ing voice from heaven announcing "This is my beloved Son, etc., listen to him," they were frightened and fell to the ground, but Jesus came and touched them. He said, "Get up and be not afraid, etc." (§284). Why would the beloved disciples fear the Father's voice of intimacy? How many books have been written about the fear of 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say Is it by mere chance that comes immediately after "be not afraid"? Ignatius leaVes that to us. God? Is it by mere chance that "etc." comes immedi-ately after "be not afraid"? Ignatius leaves that to us. In the Third Week, Ignatius focuses more on Christ our Lord's interior sufferings than on his external suf-ferings. In this way he simply allows the Gospel nar-ratives to speak for themselves as we strive to remain at Jesus' side every step of the way, imagining what he might be saying to his Father. On the first day of the Third Week, Ignatius wants us to nttice whether the road from Bethany to Jerusalem is "broad or narrow, level, etc.," and similarly to notice the place of the sup-per (§192). On the morning of the same first day, Ignatius again considers the road from the place of the supper, Mount Zion, to the valley of Josaphat, "and also the garden, whether - - -- wide, whether long, whether of one form or another" (§202). "With the eyes of the imagination" he sees the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem, its length, whether flat or through valleys or over hills; and also the place of the grotto of the nativ-ity, how big or small, how high, and what is in it (~112). Roads, of course, lead to a place, like the grotto or the garden or the upper room. One would expect, then, another consideration regarding the length and breadth of the Via Dolorosa, but that is left to our imagination. We are even encouraged to imagine ourselves seeing Jesus eating with his disciples (while we eat, §214), and this is the event that opens the Third Week. Jesus says, Review for Religious "Take and eat, etc." (~289). His supreme sign of love in the Eucharist creates the church community. "Take and eat" will be heard until the end of time. Nothing is spared in asking for the grace proper to the Passion. From grief, brokenness, and tears to this interior suffering, how he suffers for my sins, etc. (§197). This particular "etc." lifts us into Jesus' heart, where we are reminded that his "labors, weariness, and grief began at the moment of his birth" (§206, re Addition 6, §78). Once the Lord is put in bonds, his name is only Jesus, as in his early life. From then on, Jesus is silent until he speaks from the cross. Through all his silences we may imagine what he was saying to his Father and in turn what we want to say to his Mother, to him, and to the Father in the triple colloquies. From house to house Jesus is led back and forth. It seems worthy of note that the Third Week does not end at the tomb of our Lord's burial but at the house where our Lady went. The seventh day of the Third Week is spent with our Lady in her loneliness and grief, and, on the other hand, on recalling the bitter loneliness of the dis-ciples (§208, 7th day). There is no scriptural reference to our Lady's loneliness and grief, and when the risen Christ appears to his Mother there is no mention of the doors of her house being closed. Oral tradition, not Scripture, supports the Lord's appearance to her. She is the perfect instance of our Creator and Lord communicating himself to a faithful soul, "inflaming her in his love" (§ 15, reading abrasdndola for abrazdndola). Curiously enough, for those who may doubt, Ignatius quotes a line of Scripture: "Are you also without understanding?" (Mt 15:16). After we have spent a whole day with our Lady in her loneliness, what can compare with experiencing her exultation upon meeting her Son risen from the 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say tomb? His appearing to her is the first of many appear-ances. Ignatius seems to delight in recounting every single appearance of the risen Christ, just as he seems to relish seeing us present to our Lady's great gladness and rejoicing over our Lord's glory and joy (§221). Her house is transformed, her oratory is the new sanctuary of an infant church, of which she is the sign. The Holy Spirit is newly present in these Fourth Week mysteries. The disciples are given the Holy Spirit. Jesus has said to them: "Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you will remit, they are remitted, etc." (§304.3, Vulgate text). The infant church itself is in need of reconciliation in the person of the apostle Thomas. It happens on the eighth day of the resurrection. Cyril of Alexandria writes: "With good reason we are accustomed to having sacred meetings in churches on the eighth day" (Commentary on the Gospel of John). The church proclaims, "When we eat this bread and drink this cup we proclaim your death, Lord Jesus, until you come in glory." The apostle Thomas, who all too keenly experienced the death of his Master, has to wait until he comes in the glory of his wounds. So Jesus says to him, "Put your .finger here and see etc., and be not unbelieving but believing" (§305.2, Versio Prima text). Christ the Lord .is living within his new church when he appears to Thomas and to ourselves in our unbelief before the mystery of the resurrection. Christ lives on in his church, appearing again to Thomas and six other disciples on the shore of Lake Tiberius. He is Lord of the sea as well as Lord of the Sabbath when he brings about a huge catch of fish. Who counted all 153 of them? Of the fish they had just caught, Jesus "gave them some bread and fish, etc. (§306.3, Vulgate text). Did Jesus first bless the bread, Review for Religious then break it? And were there leftovers? After the hot breakfast, there is one more catch: three times Jesus asks Peter "Do you love me?" and each time tells him to feed his sheep. Jesus commissions his new church to feed his flock, chiefly with the Eucharist. To hear Thomas's confession "My Lord and my God," to hear Peter's confession "Lord, you know all things, you know that I love you," to hear the Lord of Mount Tabor say "Go and teach all peoples" (§307): this is already to hear the Suscipe being sung. Do we hear Mary, Mother of the risen Lord, Mary Magdalene, the other Marys, the couple on their way to Emmaus, the fishermen of Tiberius, other disciples behind closed doors, the five hundred brethren together, St. James, Joseph of Arimathea, and St. Paul all singing the Suscipe? Is that not one of the ways friends experience consolation, including Jesus himself, who is the glory and generosity of the Father? With what affection and with what great love may we hear him say: "All that I have and possess you gave it all to me; to you, Father, I give it all back" (§234). The great joys of gratitude are all found in the Suscipe. With what great desires would God our Lord, the angels, and the saints want to hear us repeat the Suscipe? Participating in this prayer may fittingly be one of the "holy effects of the most holy resurrection" (§223). The Suscipe may not even be the last word. Ignatius leaves it to our creativity to consider some other way of thanksgiving that we feel to be better (§235). And what we may feel to be a better gift can only be due to God at work giving being, conserving life, granting growth and feeling, etc. (§236). "For it is not much knowledge but the inner feeling and relish of things that fills and satisfies the soul" (§2). Ignatius 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering Wbat Ignatius Does Not Say was fond of concluding his letters by saying: "May His perfect grace be granted to all of us always to feel and fully accomplish His most holy will.''5 Although love is shown more in deeds than in words, Ignatius for his part is more wordy than usual in the Contemplation to Arrive at Love (§230). His words seem to carry the weight of deeds. This is evident in the first point of the Contemplatio where Ignatius refers to "particular gifts" (§234). Naturally these particular gifts are individual and personal; and yet, without say-ing so, it appears likely that Ignatius had in mind "the true bride of Christ our Lord, our holy mother, the hierarchical church" (§353), which--like our Lady as the new temple of the Lord's dwelling--humbly gives thanks to the Divine Majesty (§108). A vision of church rather than of the individual arises in the fourth point of the Contemplatio. The church's power, her goodness, her sense of justice, piety, mercy, etc. reflect the supreme and infinite power, goodness, justice, loving kindness, and mercy of her Lord and eternal King (§237). I am reminded that, when Ignatius traveled to the Holy Land, he did not have time to see Nazareth, watch sun-beams sparkle across the Sea of Galilee, or climb Mount Tabor. But he did see these holy places in his imagination, where his desires and dreams appeared. Later in Rome, seeing Christ "like a sun" as he had in Manresa (Rein §99), he saw the pilgrim church of the disciples go forth and teach all people, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (§307). Likewise it is the story of Jesus that invites, challenges, and informs our ser-vice in the world. It is not by accident that the majority of Ignatius's et cetera's follow upon a biblical text. Just as the Scriptures never come to an end, there is no last medita-tion or contemplation in the Spiritual Exercises. Review for Religious Ignatius says goodbye to retreatants (as directors do), but seeking and finding seem to become a never ending duet. There is no final step, nor does the music have any final note. Providence goes on giving birth to God's deeper presence within us and even to our pres-ence to ourselves. As Karl Rahner wrote, "God speaks us to ourselves.''6 In some analogous fashion, is this not what Ignatius also does? As we make the Exercises, per-haps Ignatius is speaking each of us as their author. Notes ~ Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Personal Writings: Reminiscences, Spiritual Diary, Select Letters, including the text of The Spiritual Exercises, ed. and trans. Joseph Munitiz and Philip Endean (London: Penguin Books, 1996), §2. Hereafter I will refer to the Exercises by giving the paragraph number in parentheses. ~ Reminiscences, §28. Hereafter I will refer to this text with Rein and the paragraph number in parentheses. 3 David L. Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 87, §97. 4 Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints, 2 vols., trans. William Granger Ryan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), I:140. 5 Personal Writings, Select Letters #38, p. 275. 6 Harvey Egan SJ, Karl Rabner: Mystic of Everyday Life (New York: Crossroad Publishing Co., 1998), p. 84. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Hamel points out that the Ignatian Exercises in their language structure call for the retreatant's involve-ment. As you have experience retreats, have you felt the freedom to follow the promptings of God's grace? 4Y 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering Wlzat Ignatius Does Not Say 2. Can you give some examples of certain scripture passages that continue to open up new meanings .and insights for you? Transformation Behold the glory of a rose. All it has to do is be. From tightly closed bud to emerging blossom to exquisite flower - it happens so slowly that very few notice. The gentle rain, the warming sun, the nurturing soil - all contribute to the life within. Holy Spirit, the power of your love is my source of transformation. All I have to do is be in You. Mary Frances Herkender SND 46 Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation at Ignatius is primarily trying to do in the ¯ ¯ Kingdom meditation, and many miss the point, is to create a major shift in the retreatant's mind. The shift is necessary in order to have a proper mindset for the Second Week of the Exercises. It is a mindset quite different from that of the First Week. Theologically, it is a shift in how one sees one's purpose in life. The shift goes from simply seeking one's own salva-tion, which is probably the purpose of most believers, to committing oneself to a divine project on Earth. Ignatius has Christ refer to the divine project as "the work" (SpEx §96). In committing to this work, one's attention and energy shift from personal salvation to involvement in the divine project. For the retreatant, this shift is from avoiding sin and getting to heaven to a new goal: accepting responsibility for helping change the human face of the earth.1 Louis M. Savary has given many lectures, workshops, and classes on the spirituality of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation After the retreatants' First Week preoccupation with Christ's forgiving their sins and enabling their salvation, the Kingdom meditation may come as a surprise--when its meaning dawns on them. It presents retreatants with a new and grand "horizon," as the Jesuit philosopher Bernard Lonergan might describe it. Their attention expands from a narrow spotlight on their personal life to a horizon as big as the world. In this meditation Ignatius wants retreatants to begin thinking globally, looking toward "a much larger horizon than they had been living within" during the First Week.2 The Divine Project Christ's project, as we read in Ignatius's Kingdom text, involves nothing less than transforming the "whole world." It will certainly call for hard work ("share the labor with me"), and will require great generosity of ser-vice ("make offerings of greater worth and moment").3 Ignatius wants retreatants to recognize that in this medi-tation Jesus is inviting them to join him in a special proj-ect, initiated by God, which is so important that it needed God's own Son to reveal it clearly and accurately.4 Many ordinary Christians, those who try merely to save their own souls, fail to hear this call. Ignatius hopes to find "worthy knights" who hear Jesus' call to establish the reign of God on earth and who want to work with others to make it happen. He recommends that the one giving the Exercises be sure that the retreatant is ready to hear this call and has the generosity to respond to it.5 Jesus, in the Ignatian text, is clearly.proposing and working toward a historical result. His project has to do with what we humans, with his help, are meant to accomplish here and now for a better planetary future. It has to do with changing history and how people live Review for Religious and interact on earth. The project is far bigger than simply baptizing as many people as possible. As the hymn to the Holy Spirit puts it, humanity's true pur-pose with the Spirit's help is to "renew the face of the earth." It is a project that goes far beyond keeping the commandments and avoiding sin. In this meditation we enter into Jesus' vision and dream for humanity. Joseph Tetlow says Ignatius wants you to "feel the excitement of a call to transcend everyday concerns.''6 A New Purpose in Life Most people live their entire lives concerned about food, shelter, and clothing. They may think about the future, but mostly about everyday concerns. Their life purpose is to take care of daily wants and needs--food, grooming, safety, security, accep-tance, approval, belong-ing, esteem, and personal development. They see no '4' larger horizon than that. Speaking of everyday concerns, Jesus said, "All these things the pagans seek." He adds, "Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides" (Mt 6:32-33). Jesus calls his hearers to a new life purpose: finding out what the worldwide kingdom project wants from you ("seek first the kingdom of God"), carrying it out, and letting God take care of the rest. This worldwide transformation, the divine project, begins in individuals with a special kind of repentance, Repentance in this context " much closer to a change :" lifepurpose, 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation a change of heart, which is quite different from sorrow for sin. Repentance in this context is much closer to a change in life purpose. "Repent for the reign of God is among you.''7 Most Christians do not really spend much time meditating on this simple, foundational statement. When understood, it calls for a new way of looking at ourselves, the human family, and all of creation; it means establishing the reign of God. Individually, the "work" calls for a change in mind-set because it requires people to begin thinking about transforming all of humanity and the planet rather than simply saving their own soul. It also calls for a conver-sion of heart because Jesus asks us to love all people and to accept responsibility for everyone, rather than limiting our responsibility to our own life and immediate family. Instead of merely waiting for the gift of salvation from God on high, Ignatius hears in the call of Christ an invita-tion to shoulder the creative responsibility of "living for others."8 Instead of the abstract virtues or commandments required for salvation, Jesus emphasizes the practical contributions each person's talents and abilities can bring to this divine project on earth. Once we under-stand Christ's divine project, says Tetlow, "each of us, with God, must create our own response.''9 Jesus in his teachings and miracles is announcing what Juan Luis Segundo calls a "project-Christology" that is "centered around the reign of God on earth.''I° In the light of this project, we each have a destiny, a part, that we alone can fulfill. Love Is Central in God's Plan Jesus reveals that God is unconditional love and that this love is active and plan-centered. In other words, Revie~v for Religious God's love is not just responsive to individual and col-lective human needs as they happen to occur; it is also forward looking, proactive, and evolutionary. God has had a loving plan for his creation since the beginning. It was enunciated by Christ. It is spelled out in Jesus' teachings, and it is all about love. Psychologically, we know that love blossoms and matures where the lovers have a shared project and a shared dedication to it. We are invited--no, com-manded- by Jesus to love one another. We may be invited to join the ranks of the "knights" who follow Jesus, but once we join we are commanded to love one another. Nothing less than unconditional love for all humans and all of creation will suffice. The love Jesus (and Ignatius) is talking about is no infatuation or emo-tional attachment. It is a mature love that thrives on sharing the responsibility for a project--"that they may be one as you, Father, and I are one" (Jn 17:20-23).13 Each individual is called to become God's coworker (synergos in Greek; see 1 Co 3:8-9, 21-23) in establish-ing God's reign on earth. Kingdom as Reign Many scripture scholars emphasize this Christological project by suggesting that Jesus' use of the word "king-dom" is less about physical boundaries and more about God's reigning. To reign is to do something. When you talk about a king "reigning," you are referring to his plans for the future of his people and the ways he wants his wishes to be carried out. Such reigning includes the effective fulfillment of the king's will in the structures of society under his charge. It means carrying out the king's program or "standard.''~ As the divine "stan-dards" (such as the beatitudes) become more and more 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius'~ Kingdom Meditation established on earth, there will be ever-increasing love. From this will follow conditions of freedom, justice, equality, peace, and so forth for all human beings and respect for all creation. So, in this meditation, when people think the call of the temporal king (to conquer infidel lands) applies directly to the call of the divine King, they need to note that Ignatius's words refer to a conquest, not by the sword, but by covering the planet with people full of unconditional love. It is only love that will conquer all. It is probably appropriate to say that the Kingdom med-itation is really a parable about the power and attraction of real love on the human heart, more than about kings and knights.12 An Evolutionary Viewpoint of the Kingdom Pierre Teilhard de Chardin reminds us that the divine project did not begin with Jesus' public ministry two thousand years ago. It started about fourteen bil-lion years ago at the Big Bang. Creation itself has been a book of divine revelation that we are just beginning to learn to read with the help of science. According to Teilhard, God implanted his love in every particle that burst forth at the first moment of creation. Everything that exists lives in what Teilhard calls a Divine Milieu of love, and this Divine Milieu is the Universal Body of Christ On 1:3). As St. Paul says, "In him we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28). In studying the evolution of the universe, Teilhard dis-covered a law that has been operative since the Big Bang. He called it the Law of Complexity-Consciousness.13 Expressed more completely, it is the Law of Attraction- Connection-Complexity-Consciousness.14 It asserts that the universe is not static or cyclical, but has always been Review for Reli~ous on the move. Furthermore, its evolutionary movement has a direction. From the beginning, it has been mov-ing toward higher levels of complexity and conscious-ness-- or to higher levels of interiority, if you wish. ~s In simple language, the law of attraction is at work everywhere. All units, from atomic particles up to human beings, are attracted to other units to form con-nections. In first-year chemistry class, you learned about the Table of Chemical Elements. These connections of subatomic particles that evolved over time are listed on the Table from the simplest to the most complex. Connections are, by definition, more complex than the elements that make them up. Vvnnen evolution is looked at over eons, it is clear that this law of attraction-connection-complexity has been at work, especially on our planet, in generating forms of life. After about a billion years of trying, Earth finally evolved single-celled creatures. And over another billion years the continually evolving Earth gave birth to life forms with increasing complexity--insects, plants, trees, flowers, fish, reptiles, birds, mammals. Consciousness and awareness appeared and increased. Starting about a hundred thousand years ago, the Law of Attraction-Connection-Complexity-Consciousness generated not only human beings on Earth, but also societies, cultures, arts, and sciences. For Teilhard, this Law is universal. It applies not only to biology, but to all levels of existence. Over many millennia, psychologi-cal, social, and cultural evolution has been happening and keeps happening, following that same divine law. As Henry Kenney puts it, for Teilhard "there is only one cosmically integrated evolution. Physical and social evolution are an essential part of this one evolution.''~6 Can this understanding of evolution help us to 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation understand the divine project? If that general law of divine love that Teilhard discovered studying the book of creation is accurate, then it is clear how we can foster the divine project. We simply follow the universal evo-lutionary law. We do it, first, by making ourselves attrac-tive for more connections and relationships. Second, we welcome connections and the complexity they bring to our lives. Third, the struggle to live lovingly in that complexity will bring us, fourth, to greater consciousness of who we are, who we are meant to become, and how we can respond to the call of Christ. Teilhard's law does not contradict any of the laws Christ gave; it merely applies them more broadly in our scientific world. For example, it allows people to see in their professions and careers how their work contributes to the divine project and promotes the reign of God. Kingdom and Cosmos God's divine Word has been breathing into the universe the divine creative Spirit for almost fourteen billion years. During all these eons, God's wisdom has been watching creation grow and evolve in complexity and consciousness. This ever-expanding cosmos, which God loved so much that he sent his only Son to become one with it and to show us that love, must be a special part of the Kingdom of God. This evolving cosmos is the original and continual blessing God has been giv-ing to us since the Big Bang. God has been waiting for us to emerge from within it and become conscious of its almost infinite temporal stretch of divine revelation and blessing--and become conscious of the divine law of love that Teilhard identified. God not only has immersed us and all of creation in this Divine Milieu, but also has written upon our hearts Review for Religious the desire to know, love, and care for the cosmos (and everything in it)--as God knows, loves, and cares for it. To do this with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength is to love as God loves. To learn to love God passion-ately, we must learn to love the cosmos passionately.~7 With the incarnation, God has doubly sanctified this cosmos. Not only is the cosmos one single immense entity beloved of God and living in the Divine Milieu; it is also, in Christian lan-guage, living within God's own Son, as part of his Body, the Total Christ. All of creation lives and moves and has its being in this Universal Christ. With these ideas Teilhard introduces us to an evolutionary way of under-standing the Kingdom meditation. ' :With the incarnation, Godhas doubly sanctified 'i this cosmos. A Prelude to the Kingdom Meditation A quotation from the jacket of a recent book may best provide an Ignatian "history" prelude a for new century's Kingdom meditation: The dawn of the twenty-first century has witnessed two remarkable developments in our history: the appearance of systemic problems that are genu-inely global in scope, and the growth of a worldwide movement that is determined to heal the wounds of the earth with the force of passion, dedication, and collective intelligence and wisdom. Across the planet groups ranging from ad-hoc neighborhood associa-tions to well-funded international organizations are confronting issues like the destruction of the envi-ronment, the abuses of free-market fundamentalism, social justice, and the loss of indigenous cultures. They share no orthodoxy or unifying ideology; they 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation follow no single charismatic leader; they remain sup-ple enough to coalesce easily into larger networks to achieve their goals. While they are mosdy unrecog-nized by politicians and the media, they are bringing about what may one day be judged the single most profound transformation of human society.18 According to the author of that book, Paul Hawken, there are at least two million organizations worldwide working toward ecological sustainability and social jus-tice. This vast collection of committed individuals does not constitute a traditional "movement," nor does it have one charismatic person inspiring or directing it. It is a global, leaderless conglomerate that reaches every corner of the world. Hawken says it is "dispersed, incho-ate, and fiercely independent. It has no shared manifesto or common doctrine, no overriding authority to check with.''~9 It is taking shape, however, in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, companies, deserts, fisheries, slums, and hotel rooms. From an evolutionary perspective, the movement is the most complex collection of human beings ever assem-bled. Most people know only the organization or two they chose to link with, but the movement's overall global database is mammoth. This collection of organizations is tackling issue~ that governments are failing to face: energy, jobs, conservation, poverty, and global warming. Its function as a coherent system is mysterious. Compelling, coherent, innovative, organic, self-organized congregations involving tens of millions of people are dedicated to change. "What I see," says Hawken, "are ordinary and some not-so-ordinary indi-viduals willing to confront despair, power, and incalcu-lable odds in an attempt to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.''z° According Review for Religious to Hawken, while in the past most people filed griev-ances only with respect to themselves, this new move-ment involves millions of people working altruistically on behalf of strangers. Individually and together they think and speak for the planet. For them, healing the wounds of the earth in this way is a sacred act. This unnamed movement is a healing life force striv-ing for social justice and planetary welfare under and through and around national boundaries. All these small and large groups are intertwining, creating worldwide a web of relationships that are increasingly conducive to life. Perhaps this perspective can serve the Kingdom meditation. An Evolutionary Kingdom Meditation Part One: Ten Thousand Earthly Leaders First Point. Perhaps, instead of an earthly king, Teilhard might ask us to imagine ten thousand leaders spread all over the cities and villages of the earth, people of all races and classes, of all religions and no religion, young and old, rich and poor, in storefronts and board-rooms, in homes and churches, in classrooms and picket lines, in jungles and around campfires, in laboratories and offices. These leaders represent ten thousand dif-ferent groups, all rising above their daily difficulties, finding ten thousand different ways to improve the earth and the beings on it. These "activist" groups are committed to bringing human rights to all. They con-front local injustice or seek multinational solutions to world hunger and poverty. Scientists seek new drugs to alleviate suffering. Authors and journalists suggest solu-tions to local and world problems. Educators concern themselves with literacy and other areas of knowledge. Some people try to solve employment problems. Some 69.1 2010 Savary * Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation address ecological concerns. Some are philosophers and theologians, some are concerned parents. Some people have dedicated their lives to meditation and to prayer for world peace, for an end to war and terrorism. Every field or life path you can imagine is represented by these ten thousand leaders. Second Point. Imagine yourself standing in this crowd, not knowing where to turn or whom to speak with, and one or two of these leaders approach you. You discover they are persons just like you working in the same area of interest. They describe their work and their aim to improve the lives of others in their circle of influence. You feel their excitement and enthusiasm. It is contagious. They may even suggest ways that you could uniquely help them pursue their purpose. Other leaders are approaching other persons like you who have found their way here. In stages-of-consciousness language, these leaders would be encouraging people to grow beyond their egocentric and ethnocentric stages of development and commit themselves to anthropocentric and geocentric mindsets.21 Anyone failing to support and find a way to actively participate in one or more of these programs might be considered an unworthy or unconscious citi-zen of the earth. Part Two: The Universal Christ While you imagine yourself still standing amid these ten thousand leaders, you can imagine Christ speaking to you as a voice heard in your heart: You see all these people representing thousands of small-to-large organizations worldwide, each doing its own small part to transform the world. They and all their groups live and move and have their being in me. They were meant to come into being and work Review for Religious in peaceful and loving concern for the betterment of all. Each small and large group has been part of the Creator's plan and vision from the beginning of time. That vision is to bring all creation together in one supreme loving union. These people love Earth and all of creation. I invite you to find the individuals and groups that you are most attracted to and most qualified to help, and commit yourself to supporting them. For we all have a long evolutionary way to go to fulfill the Creator's plan. When you hear these leaders speaking to you, realize that it is I speaking to you. When you work with them, realize that it is I working with you, alongside you. Those who want to be more devoted and signalize themselves in service of the Body of Christ will not only offer their persons to the labor required for the Creator's project, but will also make offerings of greater value 'and greater importance, saying:22 Eternal Creator of all things, I make my oblation with your favor and help, in the presence of your divine Son and in the presence of our compassionate Mother and all the saints of heaven: I want and desire, and it is nay deliberate choice and determination, with all my heart and mind and soul and strength, to be an instrument of your love and healing in the world. I beg for energy and clarity,23 so that I will contribute in all the ways I can, whatever the cost, to building up the Universal Body of your divine Son on earth as long as I live. Summing Up and Going Forward The job of achieving world peace and justice in today's world is too big for any one person or orga-nization. It is the work of thousands of organizations and individuals worldwide, rich and poor, cooperating in achieving a world at peace and an environment, a milieu, where life can be safe.24 69,1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Teilhard offers us a fuller picture of the "work" of God's reign. It integrates fourteen billion years of divine revelation that science is teaching us how to read. In the Law of Attraction-Connection-Complexity- Consciousness, he offers people in every walk of life specific ways of cooperating in the evolving divine plan. He shows how the global humanitarian movements coming up everywhere are organically inspired by the Divine Milieu. They represent an instinctive collective response of the human spirit, inspired by God, to many different needs and challenges around the planet. What these people and groups are in effect telling us, perhaps still unconscious of what they are saying, is that the Body of Christ is alive and well in our day.25 Notes t George Aschenbrenner SJ points out that Ignatius uses words like "all" and "whole" to emphasize that this meditation takes retreatants beyond their individual selves. It is a call to universal salvation. See his Stretched for the Greater Glory (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), pp. 68 and 98. 2 Joseph A. Tetlow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 90. 3 See Tetlow, Ignatius, pp. 95, 97. 4 See John 3:16-21. Jesus' project--actually it is the Father's project--encompasses the cosmos, the universe. It includes "living the truth" about creation--what it is and where it is going. s Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 90. "Ignatius would not continue an exerci-tant into the next three Weeks unless the exercitant had a great desire to go into them. That desire--to continue in the Spiritual Exercises a search for something more--itself comes as a gift from the Spirit of God." Aschenbrenner, Stretched, p. 66, makes the same point. 6 Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 91. Aschenbrenner, Stretched, pp. 66-68, sug-gests three prerequisites for truly grasping the call of the Kingdom. The first two are "a desire to know Jesus in your unique vocation" and "a capacity for intimacy." The third is "some personal lived expe-rience of the need for salvation and liberation in the social dimension of our world." Review for Religious 7 The theme of John the Baptist's preaching was "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand"; Jesus does not modify that message at all (Mr 3:2 & 4:17). John and Jesus are talking about the same divine project. Jesus merely enlarges upon it in his other sermons. s See Rm 14:7, 20-23; Mt 25:34-40. 9 Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 92. ,0 Juan Luis Segundo SJ, The Christ of the Ignatian Exercises (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1987), p. 96. ~ This seems to be Ignatius's intent in using the word "standard" in the Two Standards. His king's "standard" stands for his plan and its fulfillment. ,2 See Aschenbrenner, Stretched, pp. 66-67, 72-73. ,3 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Phenomenon of Man, 2nd ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. 300. ,4 See Louis M. Savary, The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), pp. 29-30. '~ See W. Henry Kenney SJ, A Path through Teilhard's Phenomenon (Dayton: Pflaum Press, 1970), pp. 60-64. 16 Kenney, Path, p. 70. ,7 While Aschenbrenner, Stretched, says the grace for this medita-tion is to "fall in love with Jesus" (p. 66), Teilhard would have you also ask for the grace to fall in love and become "intimate" with the cosmos. While Ignatius focuses on Christ of the Gospels, Teilhard focuses on the Cosmic Christ. ,8 Paul Hawken, Blessed Unrest: How the Largest Movement in the World Came into Being and Why No One Saw It Coming (New York: Viking, 2007). You may enjoy a short video: http://www.blessedun rest.com/video.html ,9 Hawken, Blessed, p. 3. 20 Hawken, Blessed, p. 4. 2, Here egocentric would imply caring only about my own salva-tion. An ethnocentric stage would imply putting a high value on pro-tecting and caring for my family, my tribe, my country, my race, my gender, my religion. The anthropocentric stage would mean desiring to protect and care for all human beings, seeing them as my brothers and sisters under God our Father. A fourth stage, geocentric, is emerg-ing around the planet; it means extending my care and concern to all living things. We all share one planet. 22 SpEx §98, adapted. Ignatius sometimes suggests specific col-loquies, but a colloquy must always come from each one's heart. 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Aschenbrenner, Stretched, p. 74, says, "You must make the offering that is in your heart." He notes, though, that a major function of this colloquy is to lead the retreatant into the exercises of the Second Week. 23 VChile Ignatius suggests that the retreatant ask for "injury, affronts, and poverty," Teilhard feels that there will be plenty of unwanted "diminishments" to endure if one commits oneself with energy and clarity to the divine project of building the Body of Christ on Earth. See Teilhard's Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1962, 1968), Section Two, "The Divinization of Our Passivities." 24 Ignatius does not identify the Kingdom with the Roman Catholic Church, but sees Christ's reign as including all people and all the world. Teilhard might say that Christ inspires everyone with the desire to promote the loving unity of all beings, but that many of us are not yet conscious of that desire, and that many of those who are conscious of it have not yet followed that desire. Evoking that commitment is the purpose of Ignatius's Kingdom meditation. 25 Hawken, Blessed, pp. 4-5, says: "We must also remember that humans are frail and imperfect. People are not always literate or educated. Most families in the world are impoverished and may suffer from chronic illnesses. The poor cannot always get the right foods for proper nutrition, and must struggle to feed and educate their young. If citizens with such burdens can rise above their quotidian difficulties and act with the clear intent to confront exploitation and bring about restoration, then something powerful is afoot. And it is not just the poor, but people of all races and classes everywhere in the world." Review for Religious ANN MARIE PAUL Gleanings from My First Ten Years It is still difficult for me to believe that the time passed so quickly. July 2009 marked ten years since I entered the Sisters of Christian Charity, and August 2009 saw the profession of my perpetual vows. Shortly before that, I was asked what advice I would give to those just starting out. Although fully cognizant that I s611 have much to learn, I came up with pieces of advice that were too numerous to count. After omitting many important items (includ-ing emptying trash cans and filling the car's gas tank), I have committed myself to the fol-lowing tidbits. Be grateful, no matter what. A few years ago I lived in a convent with a sister who was commemorating the 60th anniversary of her entrance into the community. I asked her, Ann Marie Paul SCC wrote as a novice an article we pub-lished in 2001. Her address is Divine Providence Hospital Convent; 1100 Grampian Boulevard; Williamsport, Pennsylvania 17701. from young and old 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years "What do you have to say on this auspicious occasion?" Without skipping a beat, she answered, "Three words: Thank you, Jesus!" What a lesson for me and for all younger religious-- Be grateful, no matter what! Living community life calls for gratitude in abundance. The five convents where I lived during these ten years have provided numerous reasons for expressing gratitude. I am grateful for the welcome I received from the sisters and the guidance they gave me--everything from where to find extra toilet paper to how to persevere in living my vows. I am grate-ful for the extra effort these women expended not only in making me feel at home but also in making me who I am today. I am grateful for the way they live and love in community and the example they have been for me. But that is the easy part of thankfulness--being grateful to those who have loved you. The "no mat-ter what" enters in when we are grateful to those who have found it hard to love us or those we have found it hard to love. Remember that not everyone will find it easy to love you and you will not always find it easy to love everyone else. These are the people who will teach you the most about loving as Jesus loves. Be grateful to them, although it might take time and distance for this gratitude to manifest itself. Forgive early and often. Forgiveness, it has been said, is the scent that the rose leaves on the foot that crushes it. The scent we leave when we are "crushed" by or when we "crush" someone else is most important. No matter how Christlike you strive to be, you are human, and so are the people with whom you live. Your com-munity will never be perfect, and neither will you. You will make mistakes (~ometimes big mistakes), and so will they. Sometimes your mistakes will hurt people deeply. Re~iew for Religious Learn early to forgive yourself and others, and to ask for forgiveness frequendy and quickly, so that everyone comes up smelling like roses! It is not a mathematical coincidence that, when asked about how often we should forgive, Jesus says, "Not seven times, but seventy-seven times" (Mr 18:22), or "seven times in one day" (Lk 17:4). The number seven is symbolic of perfection or totality. So, when Jesus uses the number seven (or seventy-seven, for real emphasis), he is saying that our forgiveness should be limidess. That is a tall order, but one that is absolutely essential to living community life. Be the community you want to see. Mahatma Gandhi is widely quoted as having said, "Be the change you want to see." These words apply to many situations in diverse regions of the world, but they can apply just as easily to your situa-tion in your local com-munity. To be sure, at some point you will rea'ch the conclusion that your community does not live up to your not meet your needs, !:: f! st.a k yourself if you have :g!ven enough, of yourself yoUr:Community. expectations. Do not let your disillusionment get the best of you. If your community does not meet your needs, first ask yourself if you have given enough of yourself to your community. That is, have you been the community you wish to see? When I hear younger sisters complain about what their community does not do often enough (or does too often), I usually ask, "What have you attempted to initi- 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years ate in your community recendy?" (In the interest of full disclosure, I have been asked that very question a few times, too.) If the answer revolves around waiting for an elusive "someone else" to initiate an elusive "something else," warning flags should go up. Such a complaint is rarely about "them"; it is usually about "me." Own these complaints and use them as springboards to action. Be as foolish as God. Whenever you make deci-sions, always choose the most loving thing. On the surface, this looks blatantly obvious for someone in religious life. However, if you had been responsible for making practical, efficient decisions before entering your community, you will have to reprogram yourself toward making loving decisions. This is not to say that religious life lacks practicality and efficiency; it simply means that what is practical is not always what is loving. Many times the loving choice will go against your culturally pro-grammed response toward practicality and efficiency. If you have trouble figuring out what the loving thing is, turn more deeply toward the Gospels. There we find a God who is foolish in the eyes of the world-- encouraging the payment of a full day's wages both to those who worked a full day and to those who worked only one hour; leaving ninety-nine sheep in the des-ert to search for one lost sheep; and welcoming back a repentant child who had left saying "I wish you were dead" with "Let's throw a party!" So, when you are given a choice, be as foolish as God. Try not to miss too many community meals. As you struggle to find and honor your own rhythm in religious life, be aware of the rhythm of.your commu-nity, especially as it pertains to meals. Because of various schedules and commitments, the community meal (and the accompanying preparation and cleanup) may be the Review for Religious only meaningful contact we have with each other as a community on some days. That is where the debrief-ing of the day occurs, where the stories are told, and where bonds of community are formed. When you miss too many community meals, you run the risk of losing touch with the rhythm of the community. So, if you have ministry commitments that prevent you from shar-ing the community meal on Monday and Wednesday, it is probably not a good idea to accept an invitation to dinner from a friend on Tuesday or Thursday of that same week. That would make it quite difficult for you to regain your place in the rhythm of the community. Be a servant. You entered religious life to serve, but you probably lacked an understanding of the precise types of service that would be required of you. Perhaps you had an idea of service as going out to the poor and doing wonderful things for God. While that is an admi-rable goal and one that you still hope to accomplish, the actual service we are asked to do rarely matches the enchanting stuff of our imaginations. John 13 tells us that, after Jesus has washed his dis-ciples' feet, he says "As I have done for you, you should also do." Note that Jesus does not say that his disciples should follow his example only when it is convenient or when they are not tired. He does not tell the disciples to think about it; he simply says "Do it." The example of Jesus' service should be foremost in our minds as we listen to a sister tell about her day when we would rather watch the evening news; car pool when we would rather drive alone; and' go to a community meeting when we would rather have a relaxing weekend. These are the times when our service, although less glamorous than we originally envisioned, answers the call that Jesus issued to his disciples shordy before he died. 69.1 2010 Paul * Gleanings from My First Ten Years If we do not take the time ~o let God in through attentive praye, r, we may block God from~ .~ ~ working through us, ~ 681 Pray, pray, pray. This is another piece of advice that seems fairly obvious for someone in religious life. However, as we leave the novitiate, we run the risk of our prayer life taking a back seat to all the other good things that we can choose to do. As we become busier with many things, we sometimes try to convince our-selves, "My work is my prayer." While our work--that is, what we do-- ~, certainly is prayer, prayer is also who we are. If we do not take the 6me to let God in through attentive prayer, we may block God from work-ing through us. We cannot give what we do not possess. My awkward translation of the advice of St. Francis de Sales on prayer goes something like this: "You should pray thirty minutes each day, except when you are very busy. Then you should pray for an hour." In our initial formation, we spend time praying, reading about prayer, and being taught many things about prayer. We have heard what some saints have said about prayer, and most likely we have studied what our founders said about it. In 1851 the founder of my com-munity, Pauline yon Mallinckrodt, said, "What water is to the fish, prayer is to the religious." On the surface, this is a nice saying about prayer. But looking more deeply gives us a much truer picture. Try to remember the last time you saw a live fish out of water. Maybe it was a goldfish as you cleaned the bowl or a larger fish you caught in a lake on vacation. Review for Religious Do you remember the desperate flailing and gasping of that fish? Now try to think of yourself without prayer as that fish. When you flail and gasp while living your religious life without prayer, it will become apparent to those around you and will quickly become an obstacle to living a meaningful life in community. Do whatever it takes to dive back into the "water" of prayer. Talk to your spiritual director, your soul friend, or any of the various support people available to you. But do not stay out of the water for so long that you cannot be revived. Remember that we are all in this together. Religious life is a wondrous journey filled with joy and sorrow, surprises and banality, times of deep joy and times of darkness. As in other walks of life and voca-tions, people will "wow" you and disappoint you; you will have times of complete connectedness and utter loneliness. Through it all, remember that you are part of a community of people called by God to follow Christ more closely in this particular way of life. Every mem-ber- from the one who most annoys you to the one you most admire--was called to your community by God at a particular time for a particular mission. Avoid wasting time questioning how God could have ever intended this seemingly motley group to do anything together, let alone live in community and witness to God's love. Instead, praise and thank God for the wondrous diver-sity in which you are privileged to participate, and think of all of these persons as doing their best. When you think you have had enough and cannot go on, remember what "the call" was like for you. Think about what it was like to say "Yes," no matter how long ago it was, and begin again to follow Jesus more closely. Ask others, if you are comfortable doing so, to share 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years their stories with you. Shared vocation stories not only create unity, but they also give us the possibility of hav-ing something to whisper in each other's ears when our memories fade. What--and how often--we whisper is a testimony to our commitment to God and to each other. We are all in this together, and our communi-ties' futures depend on how well we witness this to each other and to those who seek to join us. Ten years have passed. That is a minuscule amount of time, given the years of service of most of the mem-bers of our communities. Every year of service, how-ever, consists of distinctive days, hours, and minutes in which we strive to live in grace-filled fidelity to our vows and trusting commitment to our religious community. Whether we have done this for one, ten, fifty, or eighty years, each day we have the responsibility of living in ways that bring ourselves, our community, all those we meet, and the entire church closer to God. Keeping the present moment--the dailyness--at the forefront of our prayer and consciousness aids us in doing God's will in our lives. The ideas I have shared above are, I think, some of the many things that, gathered together, can help us be who God calls us to be. Review for Religious MARY FRANCES COADY Monasteries of Meteora a n the chapel of St. Stephen's Monastery, set high mong the giant outcroppings of rock that stand before the Pindos Mountains in central Greece, the nuns' chanting of Vespers goes on and on as evening turns into night. Their voices, singing in a minor key of mournful solemnity, become a drone, the unfamiliar sounds an incantation. The nuns themselves, draped in black cloaks, their faces flamed with severe black bands, sit motionless or move about freely from one icon to another--strange, fearsome paintings of,Christ, Mary, and various saints--across the top of the chapel. Lighted candles hang from brass chains. There is no other light--only shadow, and black figures moving, and incense hanging sweet and thick in the air, and a heavy feeling of enclosure. Sleep begins to overtake me, despite the discomfort of the hard benches we are sitting on. To shake myself awake, I shift my body and cross my legs. Immediately a nun glides over Mary Frances Coady writes from 35 Cowan Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M6K 2N1 Canada. 69.1 2010 Coady * Monasteries of Meteora to me, gives a light tap on my knee, motions with her hand, and looks at me with deep blue eyes. Her face is a mixture of kindness and unquestioned authority. Like a child caught in mid-mischief, I uncross my legs. And the chanting goes on and on . Later, in the nearby town of Kalambaka, we sit in the taverna drinking wine. Red and white checkered cloths cover the tables, and pictures of blonde American movie stars line the walls. In the darkness outside loom enormous rocks, called Meteora, a name derived from a word meaning high in the air. Bare and gray and phal-lic- shaped, they stand like a monstrous fortress. Hidden among them, as if suspended between earth and heaven, is a series of medieval Greek Orthodox monasteries. A handful of these, including the one where we have just attended Vespers, are still inhabited. This is desert land, the abode of ascetics. I wonder aloud why these monasteries were built in the first place and why anyone these days would want to return to such a medieval way of life. "You've got it wrong if you're thinking medieval," says my compan-ion, taking a sip of wine. "You've got to think Eastern." Eastern: the fierce mysticism, that is, of Byzantine Christianity. In the 1 lth century, hermits first came to Meteora seeking refuge from "the world." Here the caves and clefts of the forbidding rocks seemed the perfect home for those who sought to retreat from society and who strove to punish their bodies with rigorous practices so that they might purify their souls. The landscape was an exact mirror of their desire to disregard the things of earth and attend to heavenly matters. Once they had found their way up the rock face and had established their niche, the hermits remained Review for Religio~s undisturbed and free to pursue God in the silence of their own hearts. They fasted for days and even weeks on end, depending on the kindness of local peasants for their meager sustenance. They went years without washing, for this was one of the signs of a holy man (and indeed these early hermits seemed to be only men): one who disdained his body so much that even as his clothes rotted on top of him he remained lost in the contempla-tion of the eternal, oblivious to his own stench. In succeeding centuries, wars forced the hermits to group together for protection. In the 14th century the monk Athanasius arrived from Mount Athos, the group of monasteries that stretch over a fifty-kilome-ter peninsula jutting into the Aegean Sea southeast of Thessaloniki. With nine other monks he established the first Meteora monastery. As at Mount Athos, women were strictly forbidden to visit the monasteries, and the monks were instructed not to give food to a woman even if she were dying of hunger. (At Mount Athos, not even female animals were allowed. Athanasius himself, his early biographer tells us, never allowed the word "woman" to sully his lips.) At the height of the Middle Ages, the monasteries grew in number to twenty-four. Only three are now still inhabited: Transfiguration (Great Meteoron), All Saints (Varlaam), and St. Stephen's. It is not known exactly how the ascetics reached their lonely habitations, or how they got the materials hoisted up to build the monasteries. The likelihood is that they hired local hunters and goatherds who were intimately familiar with the passes and crags in the rock. The biographer of Athanasius says only: "And taking a certain climber, he put him on a stone, and building a hut he remained there a long time." Up until the early 69.1 2010 Coady * Monasteries of Meteora In 1961 the oldest monastery became a monastery for women. decades of this century, men who visited the monaster-ies either climbed by rope ladders, which were often frayed and barely secured, or were pulled up in net bas-kets, swinging precariously over the abyss. Visitors were instructed to avoid dizziness by closing their eyes as the creaking pulley lifted them up, and to chant a hymn in order to keep calm through the ordeal. In 1920 the monks began cutting steps into the rock leading up to the buildings, and in 1948 a paved road was completed, making the still-inhabited monaster-ies accessible by car. In the same year, permission was granted for women to visit the monaster-ies. (In these matters Meteora has sur-passed Mount Athos in modernization. At the entrance to the Holy Mountain, as Mount Athos is called, a sign still stands forbidding women to enter. Up until the late 1950s, wheeled vehicles were also forbidden, the only access to the Mount Athos monasteries being by foot or mule. The decision to build roadways still remains a controversy among some of the monks. Apparently no such controversy has yet arisen regarding the ban against women visitors.) In 1961 St. Stephen's, the oldest monastery and the only one visible from the road below, became a "nun-nery," or monastery for women. It is the most accessible of the monasteries; an eight-meter footbridge over the chasm brings the visitor face to face with the monas-tery's imposing iron door, which opens onto a sunny courtyard, the stark austerity softened by the presence of azalea and bougainvillea bushes and flowering plants Review for Religious in earthenware pots. This is the peaceful setting where the spiritual quest takes place in the stillness and soli-tude of the heart. Here nuns of all ages--a surprising number of them young, with smooth complexions and sparkling eyes--labor with rolled-up sleeves and easy smiles. A nearby plaque, however, refers to "the church of Christ" as the "new ark" that is saving the world from the "cataclysm of sin." The pleasant courtyard and happy faces can be deceptive: there is nothing sunny about the work that is carried out here. That work, here on a spot suspended between earth and sky, is nothing less than a lifetime spent in con-templation of the eternal--or, in other words, an inner search for what is essential and lasting. To carry out this quest, one leaves one's place of comfort and moves to a barren land where outward distractions have been left behind and the interior struggle begins. Anyone who has been on such a desert quest will tell you that the experience demands a healthy respect, and it is not to be undertaken lightly. In the ~adition of Byzantine Christianity, the search is carried out within the con-text of liturgical prayer, where one prays with the whole body, chanting, bowing, signing oneself with the cross, gathering in spirit the whole of humanity. We leave Meteora on a Sunday morning, driving past a church where men in well-pressed suits con-gregate outside, smoking cigarettes. No women are in sight; they are perhaps already inside, lighting tapers and placing them in a vat of sand at the back of the church. They too will pray with their bodies, moving about the church, bowing in front of icons, lighting more candles, moving their lips in prayer as bearded clerics in gold brocade vestments chant the prayers of the sacred liturgy. 69.1 2010 Coady ¯ Monasteries of Meteora Their sisters on top of the monastic rocks continue their lives of unceasing prayer. For them, Sunday is a solemn feast, and this means that there is more than the usual amount of liturgical prayer. There will be more chanting, more bowing, more lighting of candles. All that can be said, perhaps, of this stark way of life is that here there is a spiritual continuity, a sense of ageless prayer, a de

Issue 69.3 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; ANew Chal!en~e Models of Spi~rituali, ty Liv, ing Religious Li£e ' Foliow~ing Christ QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope' Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2010 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~ua~y rel Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB' Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 238 a new challenge ~ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age Daniel P. Horan OFM reflects on the role technology currently plays in both supporting and challenging Christians in their fellowship (koinonia) as church. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Hear and Far Hedwig Lewis SJ probes the inclusive meaning and reach of frontiers for spiritual enhancement and effective ministry. The term frontiers, contained in Decree Three of the 35th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has gained popularity among many religious. 226] 255 268 models of spirituality ~ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Judith Metz SC explores a central element of St. Elizabeth Seton's spirituality: her realization of the importance of losing her life for the sake of living in closer union with Christ. A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth Avis Clendenen finds in an aging sister's simple tale a vision of the humility that our dangerously narcissistic culture seriously needs. Review for Religious 281 297 living religious life Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice Robert Nogosek CSC proposes that in order for religious life to be authentic discipleship it demands of us an ongoing reevaluation of what is required to be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Jeffrey Mickler SSP brings together some observations and practical suggestions on how to deal with problematic religious. 3O9 316 following Christ The Liturgical Year: History or Mystery? John M. Samaha SM examines the movement of the liturgical year in order that we might enter more fully into this time of grace. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Discipleship and Clinging to God Damian C. Ilodigwe writes on how letting go opens us to true discipleship, and we are invited to detach ourselves from wayward affections in order to attach ourselves to God. departments 324 Scripture Scope: Reading and Understanding the Prophets 328 Book Review 227 69.3 2010 prisms 228 In the middle months of a secular calendar year, we find ourselves in what is identified as "ordinary time" in the church's liturgical year. As we likely have been told many times, the liturgical "ordinary time" refers to a way of counting (the Latin word ordo meaning "an ordering") the Sundays from one to thirty-four. These are the Sundays that are outside of the special seasons of Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter. Yet for us Christians, there is a kind of lovely paradox in living within what we call the "liturgical season of ordinary time." While in many ways it may seem that all time is ordi-nary (since time is always countable), in other ways we can view all time as rather extraordi-nary. The ordinariness of time is caught up in our usual round of family or community life, of work and recreation, of the accustomed interaction of friends, neighbors, and fellow-workers. Some people try to break out of the day-to-day routine by deliberately scheduling in a special time for a dinner out, a day-trip to an unfamiliar town, or a different recreational activity such as biking or bowling. Review for Religious A number of people find each day an adventure and cannot imagine that there are some who would call life ordinary. These people find a newness in the chang-ing weather of this day, in the surprising interactions with their own children or friends, and even in the mes-sages of the mail, the internet, and the iphone. They have retained a certain childlikeness that retains a won-der,. about life in all its forms. For them life is not so much ordinal, that is, "countable," as it is caught up in "moments" that have no countable passage. For exam-ple, moments of insight and moments of being inflamed by love--spiritually identified as consolations--are truly beyond the countable. We Christians are blessed and graced to recognize these kinds of "moments" in prayer during which we feel caught up outside of time in our relationship with God. Surely it does not happen all the time; in fact, the "ordinary" is our "slugging away" at our prayer time. We can also know these moments when we are engaged in our various times of joy, happiness, and love. The wonder of it all is that these moments for us--those who are caught in finding life ordinary and those who are gifted to live in wonder--are actually moments that happen in the ordinary course of our daily living. Perhaps that is why it is important for us to enter fully into the paradox of our church's liturgical season of ordinary rime. There i~ the reality of the ordinary and there is also the reality of the moment. The church's liturgical year reminds us that God is always present to us both in the ordinary and in the moment. We need only to pray each day of our liturgical year to be gr.aced with the gratitude that finds God in all times and places. David L. Fleming sJ 69.3 2010 a new DANIEL P. HORAN challenge 2301 Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age If Jesus had been born in 1980 and began his public ministry in 2010, would he have "friended" the twelve apostles on Facebook instead of visiting the Sea of Galilee? While this question might at first seem comical, it reflects concern about how the church as the Christian community relates to the world in which it exists today. The world is very different from the world of Jesus' ministry. The way many people experience interpersonal communication, develop and maintain relation-ships, and share information is strikingly dif-ferent from the ways of previous generations. In an era marked by advances in technology, communication, and virtual space, we must be attentive to how much our church community is being influenced or shaped by its new envi-ronment. To understand some of these matters Daniel P. Horan .OFM has written on Franciscan the-ology, philosophy, and spirituality. He writes from Holy Name College; 1650 Saint Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Review for Religious in what we may call the "digital age," we must look first at what unites us in faith and then at how our changing world affects that unity. What Is Koinonia? Early in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told that members of the nascent Christian community "devoted thems'elves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship (koinonia), to the breaking of bread and the prayers" (Ac 2:42). In Greek, koinonia was one of the marks of Christian identity, but what does it mean? It literally means "communal-ness" (community, communion, "in common") and thus fellowship. In the Christian con-text, however, this is more than club mem . bership or casual social connections. The New Testament scholar Luke Timothy Johnson sug-gests that this under-standing of koinonia includes our unity in Christ, which explains how the Christian com-munity was able to maintain unity amid the ~hallenges it faced in the first centuries. In a 1999 lecture at St. Louis University, Johnson offered four aspects of this Christian fellow-ship: fellowship among persons, in writing, in material resources, and in convictions.1 Even in diverse cultures, regions, and languages, Christianity was unified through these four aspects of koinonia. The fellowship among persons is seen in the way net-works of New Testament figures, including the apostles The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way .that. early Christian texts,. were shared among the early believers~ [231 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Cburcb in the Digital Age and their successors, helped to unify the various com-munities of believers. Johnson believes that these per-sonal connections helped to maintain coherence in the early Christian movement. The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way that early Christian texts, which would later be canonized as Scripture, were shared among the early believers in different locations. The exchange of these compositions, sometimes letters and sometimes longer narratives, concretized the common experience of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. The communal reflec-tion on these compositions proved to be an important means of developing koinonia. The fellowship in material resources united the first Christians in a seemingly calculable way that was under-stood more deeply as symbolizing a spiritual connec-tion with other believers. We see in both the Acts of the Apostles and in the Letters of Paul references to offerings for the benefit of the local community ("no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common," Ac 4:32), and the greater Christian community spread throughout the land ("conc+rning the collection for the saints., on the first day of every week, each of you is to put aside and save whatever extra you earn," 1 Co 16:1-2). Sharing financial resources represented spiritual koinonia. The last form of fellowship is that in convictions. Johnson notes that in the New Testament we see con-flicts arising over interpretations of some mat(ers, but that some convictions are never contested. Three of these are monotheism (identifying the one God as the God of the Torah), knowledge that Jesus was human and died, and belief that Jesus was now living with God and would share in God's triumph in the future. Review for Religious All four forms of koinonia that Johnson highlights contribute to the unity amid diversity in the early.church. We see that they have continued to unite the church. The Possibility of Digita! Koinonia With the understanding that this fourfold koinonia continues even today, we can now look at how it relates to us in our technologically advanced and technologically permeated world. It seems there is nothing that does not have a digital or virtual counterpart: Much of today's communication takes place on the Internet in such sites as Facebook and MySpace. Interacting in a completely digital environment where simple laws of nature, com-mon social mores, and geographical limits are no longer applicable is becoming more common through programs like SecondLife. These new forms of communication and social interaction allow the users to create, modify, and experiment with their identities in unprecedented ways. These new "identities" can participate in what are often called "online communities." Is it possible then to express koinonia in a digital format, to have "church" or a community of believers come together in an authentic way online? It would seem at first glance to be a possibility. The clearest congruency between koinonia and the digital age is likely found within the context 6f the fel-lowship among persons. The Second Vatican Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gen-tium, says: "All of the faithful, scattered though they be throughout the. world, are in communion with each other in the Holy Spirit" (LG §13).2 Earlier in Lumen gentium we are told that the church "transcends all limits of time and confines of race [and is] destined to extend to all regions of the earth" (LG §9). Transcending the 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age boundaries of temporality and human differences sug-gests that connecting and communicating with others through digital media and the Internet is indeed a con-temporary manifestation of fellowship among persons. Additionally, the "blog" (short for "weblog") and other digital media make written compositions and reflections on normative religious texts more read-ily available. Even in graduate theological schools, the ubiquity of technologies such as BlackBoard or WebCT has reshaped the way students of Scripture and theology read about, reflect on, and share their faith. It would seem that Christians are no longer limited to parish Bible study, adult catechesis, or other forms of faith-sharing face to face. Instead, thecommunica(ion of biblical and theological reflection now transcends the previous spatial and temporal boundaries. You can read about, reflect on, and share your faith at any time and from nearly any place. The fellowship in material resources in contempo-rary Christian communities occurs largely by way of the Internet. Technology enables the faithful to share their material resources directly or indirecdy with other communities at the click of a computer mouse. When natural disaster, crime, or war affects the people of God on any continent or at any time, the Internet has allowed Christians to assist others instantaneously. This has been the case in recent years with aid to victims of the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 and victims of hur-ricane Katrina in New Orleans in 2005. The sharing of material resources in these instances also represents the spiritual unity of the people of God, spread around the world though they are. The final dimension of koinonia that Johnson has highlighted for us, fellowship in convictions, can also be for Reli#ous seen in the new technologies of the digital age. From the beginning of the Internet, digital "communities" formed to share ideas and information. Early on, this occurred in what were called "chat rooms" and "message boards," where one could connect with others and contribute to a continuing conversation about a particular subject. Today the successors to those early formats might be Facebook "groups" and personal blogs. Centered on commonly held beliefs and convictions, these digital "spaces" allow people to connect with others without regard to temporal or geographic boundaries. Given the apparent compatibility of Luke Johnson's fourfold definition of koinonia with the technological advances of our digital age, it seems we could advocate a form of "digital koinonia." There remains, however, a piece of the puzzle that is not accounted for in this digital koinonia. The church is not united in this form of fellowship alone, but is also a Eucharistic community. From Facebook to Eucharist However great the possibilities for increasing koi-nonia among the Christian faithful, we must recall the passage from Acts cited above wherein the community was also devoted to the breaking of the bread. Cardinal Walter Kasper, in his book That They May All Be One,3 reminds us that the church is not simply an organization or club in which we have become some sort of mem-ber, and that we are brought into participation in the mystery of Christ as a part of Christ's Body through the sacrament of baptism. The participation--the set of relationships we enter through baptism and maintain through koinonia--comes to what Kasper calls "the summit," namely, participation in the Eucharist, a theme from Sacrosanctum concilium, 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age the council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. In this light we can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity. Kasper is in line with Johnson's fourfold koinonia, but reminds us that this koinonia is inherently sacramental, rooted in our shared baptism and Eucharist. Understanding koinonia as being fundamentally sac-ramental while also communal, we see two sets of rela-tionship in the church's koinonia, The first one Kasper calls the horizontal dimension of koinonia. It is what we have seen in Johnson's fourfold framework: fellow- - ship among persons, . , ~ in writing, in material resources, and in con-viction. The second set Kasper describes as the vertical dimension: the explicitly sacramental fellowship of believers, who in baptism are united to Christ and thus brought into the life of the Trinity. This dimension, the vertical or sac-ramental, cannot be replicated on Facebook, MySpace, SecondLife, or any other technological medium. People cannot have their SecondLife avatar baptized online and cannot participate in the celebration of the Eucharist online either. In light of the ideas of'Luke Timothy Johnson and Cardinal Walter Kasper and in line with the vision of the Second Vatican Council, the church in this digital age of ours is clearly aided in living its koinonia, but not, of course, in the matter of baptism and the Eucharist, with their water, bread, and wine. The horizontal dimension We can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity,° 236 Review for Religious of koinonia could very likely benefit from more engage-ment with online technologies that transcend some of the usual limits of place and time. At the same time, there is a need to move beyond this digital koinonia to fully include the sacramental and vertical dimension in the celebration of baptism and Eucharist. Had Jesus "friended" the Apostles on Facebook, he would have veryqikely sent an "e-vite" to each one for an in-person gathering shortly thereafter. Notes ~ Luke Timothy Johnson, "Koinonia: Diversity and Unity in Early Christianity," Theology Digest 46 (1999): 303-313. 2 All references to conciliar documents are to Vatican Council II, ed. Austin Flannery OP (New York: Costello Publishing, 1992). 3 Walter Kasper, That They May All Be One: The Call To Unity Today (New York: Continuum, 2004). Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study 1. In what ways do you experience koinonia in today's church? 2. How do you see technology impacting the way we live out our call to Christian discipleship? Are there other positive or negative dimensions associated with this reality? 3. What are the ways we might better use technology to support authentic communion within the Christian community today? 23.7 69.3 2010 HEDWIG LEWIS Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 23,8 ~reOvarle daStt intuotd oens.l yI nc o2m0m06u,n tihcaet es lmanega n"icnogo blu"t walasso said to be the most popular word of the year. It had acquired a new set of meanings and suggested a specific mindset. The word, however, did not affect Jesuits: they were warming up for a general congregation (GC35) to be held in early 2008. When it was finally in session, the delegates wanted to set the world on fire. A special decree (D2) defined the Jesuit as a "man on fire" at the frontiers of humanity. Decree Three (D3) is tided "Challenges to Our Mission Today: Sent to the Frontiers." "Frontiers" became the theme of several docu-ments and the new buzzword of the Jesuits. It is no longer just a romantic term, but has evoked enthusiasm and captured Jesuit imaginations. It has become popular also among other religious worldwide.~ Hedwig Lewis SJ writes again from St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious Understanding Frontiers The word frontier has varied meanings: the edge of empires, a place for adventure and heroism, technologi-cal testing for new industries, conquest or rich cultural exchange. In Europe it refers simply to the boundaries between nations. The colonies the Europeans established in the rest of the world became, first of all, European societies and cultures on farther frontiers. In the United States the frontier, in history and popular culture, has meant the setting for adventure and prosperity, valor and villainy. The national character is seen as having been forged in the trials and triumphs of life on the frontier. The pioneer experience supposedly pf0duced the best traits of the American people--their tenacity, individualism, love of democracy, patriotism, inventive-ness, and much more. Many historians today question such views, but few would deny that "frontier," broadly understood, has had an influence not only in North America but in the rest of the world as well. The expansion of European peo-ples brought a variety of complicated changes to human society and to the physical world itself. The frontier was an unsetding force--socially, culturally, politically, and ecologically) No longer just a geographic term implying some restrictions, "frontier" is also used in referring intel-lectual aiad scientific advances and ideological visions. Today "ideas, information, merchandise, technology, and capital circulate freely; persons also circulate, though with many more restrictions. Frontiers have become porous, and in many cases they have disappeared. The world has become multireligious and multicultural. There is no longer a notion of Christendom with delim-ited frontiers beyond which lies mission territory.''3 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far A New Concept of Frontier Decree Three of GC35 redefines frontier accord-ing to. the interpretation Pope Benedict xvI gave it in his allocution to GC35. It implies "geographical and spiritual ,places where others do not reach or find it dif-ficult to reach . The obstacles challenging those who announce the gospel are no longer seas and vast dis-tances; rather they are the boundar-ies of a superficial vision of God and of man, which place obstacles in the way of faith and human knowledge, faith and science, faith and the commitment to justice.''4 The new frontiers exist everywhere, and we are sent to the frontiers with the very concrete mission of open-ing up passes and of "building bridges" between those who live on pne side of the frontier and those who live on the other. What is more, we are asked to be our-selves "bridges in a fragmented world" (D3 17). The frontiers have to be recognized in their variety and diversity. "The frontier is everywhere--in cyber-space, in the inner space of retreats and counseling, in the depths of depression from infirmity, in the homes that have been broken by separation or misunderstand-ing, in the midst of the secularized globalized post, modern world, in old places that call for new ways of speaking God's word. It is anywhere and everywhere that the joy and peace of the Good News is still not felt. And we are asked to go there, and 'our mode of proceeding is to trace the footprints of God. know-ing that the Spirit of Christ is at work in all places Frontiers have to be recognized in their varietyand diversity: 240 Review for Religious and situations.' . . . We turn also to the 'frontier' of the earth, increasingly degraded and plundered. Here, with passion for environmental justice, we shall meet once again the Spirit of God seeking to liberate a suf-fering creation, which demands of us space to live and breathe" (D2 10&24).s On the spiritual front, particularly for Ignatian spiriZ tuality, "~e frontiers are in giving Spiritual Exercises to every kind of person. There are frontiers in constructing an I'gnatian spirituality that can energize political action and, a renewed evangelization of faithful Christians. And there are ~frontiers in places: Moscow, for instance, and the virtual place called the web. There are older fr.on-tiers too: each human hea~;t that has to decide to follow and serve Christ the ¯K' in"g6. Jesm" t s"pirituality, because it is holistic and inclusive, "sustains the Jesuit at individual and collective, personal and strg.ctural levels for collabo-ration and networking at all levels--provincial and uni-versal in an attitude of solidarity . Jesuits are invited to build a new future in Christ for a 'globalization in solidarity, a globalization without marginalization.'''7 Those who "really try to listen" to, the Spirit end up in strange, surprising places!''s Jesuit Frontiersmen ~ Since the-foundation of the Society of Jesus, Jesuits have considered themselves frontiersmen and pioneers in .the proclamation of the faith. Pope. Benedict alluded to this in his allocution: "In its history; the Society of Jesus has lived extraordinary experiences of proclama-tion and encounter between the gospel and world cul-tures- it suffices to think of Matteo Ricci in China, Roberto De Nobili in India, or the 'Reductions' in Latin America. And you are very rightly, proud of them. I feel 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 242 it is my duty today to urge you to set out once again in the tracks of your predecessors with the same cour-age and intelligence, but also with an equally profound motivation of faith and enthusiasm to serve the Lord and his church." He was echoing the words of his predecessor Pope Paul vI, who spoke of ~'crossroads" and "the front line" when he addressed GC32 in 1975: "Wherev.er in the church, even in the most difficult and exposed fields, in the Erossroads of ideologies, in the social trenches, there has been or is confrontation between the burning exigencies of humanity and the perennial message of the gospel, there have been and are the Jesuits," The Jesuit historian John O'Malley, writing about "the first Jesuits," said that their ."ministries and how they went about them were quintessential to the Jesuits' self-definition" of being frontiersmen. In their minis-tries, Jesuits excluded no person or place in the world. They operated at the edges of life: they preached, taught catechism., proposed _n_ew liturgical practices, and sought to .help orphans, prostitutes, prisoners, and people in hospitals. They were simultaneously writing plays, teaching in universities~ and acting as theologians at the Council of Trent. Within seven years of their papal approval, they founded and operated schools.9 Today our mission is to, go with both spiritual vigor and intellectual rigor to the "new frontiers" where we learn again that our "Jesuit identity [and mission] are relational; they grow in and through our diversities of culture, nationalities, and languages, enriching and chal-lenging us" (D2 19).1° In keeping with their vocation, therefore, Jesuits are sent beyond all frontiers "to serve faith, promote jus-tice, and dialogue with cultures and religions. The basis Review for Religious for reconciliation is Luke 4:18-19, which announces the good news to the poor, the release of captives, the recovery of sight by the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. In proclaiming God's message of love and compassion, Jesus crosses over physical and socio-religious frontiers. In the same manner, Jesuits are invited to preach the kingdom to those living outside their physical and spiritual frontiers: tax col-lectors; prostitutes; sin-ners; refugees; displaced; trafficked; women; chil- ,To cr, gss frontlers demands a strongfaith, courage, ,open ness others, and a willingness to take risks. dren; minorities; outcasts; indigenous peoples; victims of communal, caste, and ethnic violence; and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded.''~l The frontiers are difficult and often uncomfort-able places. They provide none of the security of one's home turf and often require excursions, into unfamiliar or even uncharted territory. To cross frontiers demands a strong faith, courage, openness to others, and a will-ingness to take risks. It requires the ability to adapt the message of Christ and his church to cultural, linguistic, and religious realities that work with altogether differ-ent categories and reference points, as modeled by some of the great Jesuit missionaries of the past.~2 '.'Going to the frontiers," Father Adolfo Nicolfis pointed out, "means study, research, entering into the life of the people, soli-darity, empathy, inculturation, and respect for others. Going to the whole world turns out to be more difficult than we had thought. We feel like children. Perhaps we have discovered the kingdom of God.''~3 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, when asked to define "catholic" by Georgetown University trustees visiting Rome in May 2007, replied, "I have always understood 'catholic' to mean bringing the experience of those at the frontiers of the church's mission back to renew the center.''14 For the effectiveness of our mission, we need to carefully "discern" the frontiers. This demands "three important qualities: creativity, daring, and great humil-ity!" according to Father Nicolfis. "Every Jesuit work, be it in justice, spirituality, educati6n, or whatever, should ask the question, 'How are we at the frontiers?'''is That is what this article addresses. The full mean-ing and scope of "frontiers" will take much research and extensive reflection. This is, then, an introductory study from three perspectives: (1) interior frontiers, which involve (2) spiritual frontiers and (3) outreach frontiers. 244 Interior Frontiers Saints have implied that the spiritual life is the adven-ture of crossing interior psychological frontiers to reach the ever expanding horizons of the soulscape. Spiritual life always involves letting go so .that, unburdened by self-seeking, one can go forward in communion with the divine. This adventure entails a striving to compre-hend "the 'breadth, and length, and depth, and height" of Christ's love (Ep 3:18). In this regard, and with regard to the papal definition, frontiers envisage inscape and landscape--the personal and the social, the vertical, horizontal, and panoramic reaches within one's power with the help of divine grace. Frontiers can envision our environs, our neighborhood--its breadth and length-- and those living on the edge or at the fringes of our neighborhood or our society. Frontiers can include depth Revieva for Religious and height, interior knowledge that grows and expands to vision and ideals, to community and commitment. As religious men and women, committed to this journey of the soul, we are called to be "bridge-builders" on all fronts. To be effective in this mission of bridging, we have to grow unceasingly in our familiarity with the "territories" at both ends, the spiritual and the worldly. "The church is in urgent need of people of solid and deep faith, of a serious culture and a genuine human and social sensitivity, of religious who devote their lives to stand on those frontiers in order to witness and help to understand that there is in fact a profound harmony between faith and reason, between evangelical spirit, thirst for justice, and action for peace.''16 This spiritual adventure has'its own thrill and attraction. With our inner vision set on new~ and farther horizons that our Lord graciously opens up for zealous seekers, the path is "straight and narrow" (Mr 7:13-14), but along it there are obstacles and frontiers. For those disposed toward Ignatian spirituality, any discussion on "frontiers, will inevitably involve the magis, the openness to being and doing more. "We must discern our mission according to the criteria of the magis and the more universal good" (D2 22). The magis challenges one toward seeking greater depth rather than wider avenues, non multa sed multum (not many but much). The spirit of the magis transforms us into fron-tier persons, desiring to find themselves called to what is greater and better. St. Ignatius, "the pilgrim," explored the dark inte-riors of the cave of his heart before he undertook the journey to Jerusalem to "save souls." His Autobiography describes how the journey inward meant resisting dev-ilish pirates and surviving death-threatening squalls in [ 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far order to cross the frontiers to peaceful havens. An exam-ple from more recent times is that of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, who indicates in her "private writings" that for the last fifty years of her life she had struggled pain-fully to feel God's presence. Through her "dark night of the soul," neverthe- The Ignatian magis brooks no comfoi't zones; it expands ou~ horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. less, she shone forth as an extraordinary woman of faith, who continued crossing frontiers of a more ordinary kind. The Ignatian magis brooks no comfort zones; it expands our horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. Only Love can satisfy our inner craving for fulfillment: Love of God, love of self, love for others. Only unconditional love breaks barriers and enables us to cross over life's various frontiers. We will reach the last frontier only when "the soul feels sat-isfied." But this will happen only with our dying breath, for, .as Augustine tells us, our hearts are resdess till they rest in God. 246 Geography of Prayer/Spiritual Frontiers To assist us in our "restless striving" to cross spir-itual frontiers, St. Ignatius has given us his Spiritual Exercises. "One tries to find one's way to the place where one desires to pray now and, when I find my way to that place, I try to stay there 'until I have been satis-fied' before moving on to a new place." This method Review for Religious applies to where I place my body (in the literal sense) and where I give my attention. This discipline of seek-ing the place of my heart's desire and trying to stay there until I have been satisfied makes a powerful disci-pline for living ordinary life as well as for finding guid-ance in prayer. A Jesuit has written: "When I pray, I pay attention to where I am (geographically, professionally, tempo-rally). I try to follow the lead of my inner disturbances (Ignatius's word for consolations or desolations), which can help me find my way to where I desire to meet, and be met by, God. If I pay attention to where I place myself in the world and where my life circumstances place me, my place in the world becomes grace for me. I can form a habit of asking whether I am called to remain in that place or whether I am called to find my way to a new place. 'Place' here can mean a given neighborhood, a particular job, a professional organization, an informal network of friends, and so forth.''~7 Familiarity with this "inner geography" helps us translate our prayer into our ministry as contemplatives in action. Hence we need to deepen our interior lives so as to better integrate our vision and mission as fron-tiersmen. Without a demanding and vigorous interior life, we allow ourselves to let go of the "contempla-. tive" side of our lives, forgetting that "in what we do in the world there must always be transparency to God" (GC35 D2 10). Without seeking and finding the paths of interiority which the Spirit of God oPens up if we are docile, we rian the risk that our apostolic generosity will wither, the meaning of our strongest commitments will become confused. Without seeking God with our inner eyes, we do not recognize how God is working in our efforts. We are likely to stop making them.~8 247 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 248 Outreach Frontiers Frontiers "beyond geographical definitions await us, 'nations' that today include those who are poor and dis-placed, those who are profoundly lonely, those who ignore God's existence, and those who use God as an instrument for political purposes. Thereare new 'nations,' and we have been sent to them (D2 22). At the frontier, then, we encounter the tragedies of poverty, hunger, thirst, pain, and death--a world in need. But this discovery need not discourage us, for we also discover that God is already there at work, and God will accompany us. Be.cause God is already there, Jesuits and their collaborators will receive new energy and new life, even when mingled with anguish where 'the Divinity'is hidden.'" 19 "Ignatius and his first companions understood the importance of reaching out to people on the frontiers and at the center of society, of reconciling those who were estranged in any way. From the center in Rome, Ignatius sent Jesuits to the frontiers, to th~ new world, 'to announce the Lord to peoples and cultures that did not know him as yet.' He sent Xavier to the Indies. Thousands of Jesuits followed, preaching the gospel to many cultures, sharing knowledge with and learning from others. He also wanted Jesuits to cross other types of frontiers between rich and poor, between educated and unlearned. He wrote a letter to the Jesuits at the Council of Trent on how to behave, and insisted that they should minister to the sick. Jesuits opened colleges in Rome and in the great cities, of Europe, and they taught children in villages across the world" (D3 15). The metaphor of bridge-building is used often' in D3, "signaling a desire to link thoroughgoing incul, turation to a commitment to dialogue. The.strategy proposed is clear: Go to the frontiers, immerse your- Review for Religious selves in the cultures you encounter, and share in the conversation. These orientations are to drive Jesuit and Ignatian activity in the postmodern era.''2° "This tradition of Jesuits building bridges across frontiers becomes crucial in the context of today's world. We become able to bridge the divisions of a fragmented world only if we remember and live from three Ignatian principles: the love of God our Lord, the union of minds and hearts reflected in the personal bond of Francis Xavier and Ignatius across the seas, and the obedience that sends each one of us in mission to any part of this world" (D3 17). The "universal mission" of the Society of Jesus flows from Ignatius's vision at La Storta. He would "deploy Jesuits in a wide variety of apostolic ministries around the world. Jesuits were to go where the need was great-est, other religious were not already there, the good to be achieved was wide and deep, and their service would better society0while giving glory to God (see Constitutions SJ §622).''2~ Christ-centered Many tasks may call on us urgently, but we know that it is not only urgent tasks that define the Society's missions: "it is Christ's mission, of which we desire to be the servants, that is our urgency.''z2 Pope Benedict, in his recent encyclical Caritas in veritate (§20) empha-sized this IZhristic orientation behind all human endeav-ors toward social change for a better world: It is Christ's charity that drives us on: "caritas Christi urget nos" (2 Co 5:14). The urgency is inscribed not only in things, it is not derived solely from the rapid succession of events ahd problems, but also from the very matter that is at stake: the establishment of authen- [249 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Our o treach programs must begin from the heart, tic fraternity. The importance of this goal is such as to demand our openness to understand it in depth and to mobilize ourselves at the level of the "heart," so as to ensure that current economic and social processes evolve towards fully human outcomes. Our outreach programs, then, must begin, from the heart._ This demands that we be person-centered rather than project-oriented. Our service must touch hearts. In this outreach we will encounter personal and social frontiers, as" Christ did, but we must cross them all to get to people's hearts; for the kingdom, coming from within God's heart, is within. "The crossing of frontiers is a larger human experi-ence and is not only a matter of religious frontiers. An open church willing to relate to the world, the larger society, and many types of identities will increasingly face the question of how to go about the reality of frontiers. It is the modern version of the question of love of neighbor . Traditional Christian rec-onciliation has to express itself today in the way we face complicated frontiers and boundaries and how we cross over and reach out. :. By negotiating the frontiers and communing across them, Christians will continuously discover new dimensions of their own faith identity. ¯ Much of the Christian future lies on the periphery, in the frontier-zones. Encounter with new identities need not signify a threat to a church that understands itself as universal because it is a communion in difference.''23 "Jesus, in his outreach, embraced difference and new horizons. His ministry transcended boundaries. Review for Religious He invited his disciples to be aware of God's action in places and people they were inclined to avoid: Zacchaeus, a Syro-Phoenician woman, Roman centurions, a repen-tant thief. As water bringing life to all who thirst, he showed himself interested in every parched area of the world; and in every parched area of the world he can thus be welcomed, for all who are thirsty can understand what living water means. This image of living water can give life to all Jesuits as servants of Christ in his mission because, having tasted this water themselves, they will be eager to offer it to anyone who thirsts and to reach out to people beyond frontiers--where water may not yet have welled up--to bring a new culture of dialogue to a rich, diverse, and multifaceted world" (D2 12). The Gospels offer a vivid insight into Christ's modus operandi in his healing ministry. "Look at any healing story: the way Jesus heals the paralyzed man brought in by his friends through the roof; the leper; the woman with the issue of blood. Jesus first responds to a concrete, immediate need: the healing of a sickness. But then he goes on to respond to a deeper need: the burden of guilt or the sense of hopelessness or rejec-tion and isolation. Finally he goes deeper still and offers what they long for most, often without knowing it: the gift of the kingdom of God, of friendship with a God of unconditional love, in a way that transforms them at the core of their persons.''24 "In proclaiming God's message of love and com-passion, Jesus crossed over physical and socioreligious frontiers. His message of reconciliation was preached both to the people of Israel and to those living outside its physical and spiritual frontiers: tax collectors, prostitutes, sinners, and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded. His ministry of reconciliation with God 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far and with one another knew no boundaries. He spoke to the powerful, challenging them to a change of heart. He showed special love for the sinner, the poor widow, and the lost sheep. The kingdom of God which he constantly preached became a vision for a world where all relation-ships are reconciled in God. Jesus confronted the powers that oppose this kingdom, and that opposition led him to death on the cross, a death which he freely accepted in keeping with his mission. On the cross we see all his words and actions revealed as expressions of the final reconciliation effected by the Crucified and Risen Lord, through whom comes the new creation in which all rela-tionships will be set right in God" (D3 14). Words from the Heart We often fall short of being imitators of Christ in our frontier ministries. Our very words betray our attitudes: we "plan," "coordinate," "organize," mostly at the head level. "These are organizational verbs, very important, necessary for moving ahead," Father Adolfo Nicolfis noted. He added that in contrast, when Jesus commis-sioned his disciples to ministry, his words revealed the heart of it. He used "verbs of life, verbs of giving life": preach the gospel to the poor, heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, expel demons, raise the dead. This clearly indicates that "the mission of God in Jesus, the business he is about, is making life flow more abundantly for humanity wherever it is lacking or blocked. And the real secret of mission is not to get rid' of the organizational verbs or the gospel verbs, but to somehow make the organizational actions that we have to perform expres-sions of the life-giving actions of the gospel.''2s Words are symbolic. When we set out with the mindset of Christ to discern "how we are at the fron- Review for Re.ligious tiers," is our definitiofi of "frontiers" congru.ent with that of the Church and the Socie,ty? Does the spirit of the magis urge us to seek and find God's presence everywhere--across the frontiers, deep and high, near and far? Notes 1 Adolfo Nicolas sJ, "Challenges and Issues in Jesuit Education," keynote address on the 150th anniversary of Jesuit education in the Philippines, Ateneo de Manila University, 13 July 2009. 2 Elliott West, Frontier, Grolier Online. 3 Marcos Recolons SJ, "What's New in the Decree on Mission?" Promotio Iustitiae 98-99 (2008/1): 18. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution to the delegates of GC35, 21 February 2008. s Josd C.J. Magadia SJ, homily for the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Philippine Province, 27 July 2008. 6 Joseph Tetlow SJ, "At the Frontiers," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 95 (2000): 17. 7 Joseph Marianus Kuiur SJ, "Sent to the Frontiers--Decree on Mission," Jivan (August 2008): 4-6. s Nicol~is, "Challenges and Issues." 9 John O'Malley sJ, The First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), pp. 3 and 18. 10 Paul L. Locatelli SJ, "To Be Sent: Mission, Frontiers, and Contemplative Action," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008/3): 27. 1~ Kuiur, "Sent to the Frontiers." 12 Len Altilia SJ, "The Inspiration for Frontiers," Frontiers 1, no. 1, online. 13 John Borelli SJ, "Frontiers of Dialogue for Discovery and Renewal," National Jesuit News (November 2008). 14 Borelli, "Frontiers of Dialogue." ~s Adolfo Nicolas SJ, "Jesuit Mission Today," address to Jesuits and friends at Gonzaga College, Ireland, 12 September 2009. 16 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution. 17 John Staudenmaier sJ "The Inner Geography of Prayer in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius," UDMcasts on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, The University of Detroit Mercy, Detroit, 7 March 2007. 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 18 Franqois-Xavier Dumortier SJ, "The Same Path as Ignatius," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008). , ,9 Locatelli, "To ~Be Sent," p. 33. 20 Adria~ Lyons SJ, "From Centre to Frontiers," Province Express, Australia, 28 May 2008. 21 Locatelli, "To Be Sent," p. 27. 22 Dumortier, "The Same Path." 23 Felix Wilfred, "Introduction: The Art of Negotiating the Frontiers," Concilium, 1999/2. 24 Nicokis, "Challenges and Issues." 2s Nicolfis, "Challenges and Issues." Equinox 254 I was once certain of so many things Certain of light and dark life and death f!'lled and empty hatred and love I was once certain of so many things But grief broke me open and they tumbled out as one jumbled mess Certainty tumbled out among them. Kathleen Atkinson OSB Review for Religious JUDITH METZ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross In the back flyleaf of her prayer book, Elizabeth Bayley Seton wrote a modification of the Anima Christi: Soul of Jesus sanctify me Blood of Jesus wash me Passion of Jesus comfort me Wounds of Jesus hide me Heart of Jesus receive me Spirit of Jesus enliven me Goodness of Jesus pardon me Beauty of Jesus draw me Humility of Jesus humble me Peace of Jesus pacify me Love of Jesus inflame me Kingdom of Jesus come to me Grace of Jesus replenish me Mercy of Jesus pity me Sanctity of Jesus sanctify me Purity of Jesus purify me Cross of Jesus support me Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. models of spirituality. 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Nails of Jesus hold me in life, in death - in time and Eternity - in the hour of Death defend me, call me to come to thee, receive me with thy Saints in glory everlasting.I Elizabeth loved this prayer, writing several paraphrases of it as she contemplated at various times the outpour-ing of Jesus' love in his suffering and death. From when she was young, her spirituality found a focus in his love, shown in his giving of himself, in his willingness to suf-fer for us--and in her wish to return this love. Her father gave her a cross which she often wore, remarking that she loved it "as the mark of my Captain and Master whom I was to follow so valiantly" (3a:514). There are many references in her letters and journals to this cross, such as: "looked at my crucifix"; "Calvary is the rendezvous"; "we must be crucified." As she was nursing her dying husband, she wrote: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too" (l:257).During a tumultuous time after her return to New York, Elizabeth observed: "When people say 'so much trouble has turned her br~in' - well, I kiss my crucifix, which I have loved for so many years, and say 'they are only mistaken'" (1:401). People sometimes comment that they find little affinity with St. Elizabeth Seton because her spirituality seems negative. For them she dwells so much on suf-fering and the cross--on joy at embracing hardship in imitation of Jesus--that her spirituality does not attract them. ~ Yet the imitation of Christ must be the center of every Christian life. Holy people through the ages have shown us by their lives that the more people recognize God's outpouring love, demonstrated by Christ's sacri-fice on the cross, the more they need to imitate that self-giving love: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, Review for Religious let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-. low me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but :anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it" (Mk 8:34-35). Although Ignatius Loyola did not write the Anima Christi, which we have already reflected on, he placed it at the beginning of his Spiritual Exercises and often referred to it. And he did write the Suscipe that most of us are familiar with: ."Take, Lord, ~ receive all my liberty, my mem-ory, my understanding, my entire will; all that I have and possess." In her lnterior Castle, Teresa of Avila observed: "His Majesty could not grant us a greater favor than to give us a life that would be an imitation of the life his beloved Son lived. Thus I hold for certain that these favors are meant to fortify our weakness., that we may be able to imitate him in his great sufferings." Like these great saints, Elizabeth Seton was also com-mitted to living in imitation of Jesus. She wrote in her Journal: "The cup which our Father has given Us, shall we not drink it? Blessed Savior, by the bitterness of thy pains We may estimate the force of thy love . . . and therefore, if thou so ordainest it, welcome disappointment and pov-erty; welcome sickness and pain -welcome even shame, and contempt, and calumny. If this be a rough and thorny path, it is one which thou hast gone before us. Where we see thy footsteps we cannot repine" (3b:21). Elizabeth was able to enter into Jesus' life, to expe-rience his outpouring love in the events of the passion narratives, in a way that made them very real and rele-vant to her life. She recognized that Christ's story was her Elizabeth Seton was O mitted t0 living in ,imitation of ]esus: 69.3 2010 258 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton °s Spirituality of the Cross story. Her part was to enter into her own life and joyfully embrace the cross as a way of being in union with her beloved. She experienced overwhelming gratitude at what Christ had done for her, and she knew that her response must be to "drink the cup" and be "baptized with the baptism" of which Jesus spoke. This spirituality of hers permeated her prayer and supported her through many difficult times. One of these was the month she spent in the lazaretto with her desper-ately ill husband and young daughter upon their arrival at Livorno, Italy, in November 1803. She described the experience to her dearly loved sister-in-law Rebecca Seton: "You could not rest in your bed if you saw [me] as [I am] sitting in one corner of an immense Prison bolted in and barred with as much ceremony as any monster of mischief might be - a single window double grated with iron thro' which, if I should want anything, I am to call a sentinel, with a fierce cocked hat, and long rifle gun." "On the ship-mattresses spread on the cool floor my Willy and Anna are sound asleep, and I ~trust that God, who has given him strength through a day of such exertion will carry us on - He is our all indeed -. God is with us - and if sufferings abound in us,his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed all utterance." "What shall we say - this is the hour of trial, the Lord support and strengthen us in it. Retrospections being anguish - press forward toward the mark and prize" (1:251,253,254). As the Setons passed their weeks, of quarantine, Elizabeth strove to keep her equilibrium by prayer and her "hidden Treasures,;--her Bible, commentaries, ser-mons, and The Imitation of Christ ~that she had carried with her from New York. She poured out her heart in her Journal, where she lamented time and again how she "read, prayed, we.pt, and prayed again" (1:256,257,265). Review for Religious But as she contemplated her situation she was also able to note: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too . I find my present opportunity a Treasure - and my confinement of Body a liberty of Soul which I may never again enjoy whilst they are united . If I could forget my God one moment at this time I should go mad -but he hushes all - Be still and know that I am God your Father" (1:257,258). With the passing days William Seton's health con-tinued to worsen so that by 5 December a doctor was called. Though he feared that Elizabeth's beloved hus-band "might be gone in a few hours," he continued to hold on. On 14 December, Elizabeth wrote: "The damp-ness about us would be thought dangerous for a pdrson in health, and my W's sufferings - Oh well I know that God is above. Capitano,. if I thought our condition the providence of man, instead of the 'weeping Magdalene' as you so graciously call me, you would find me a lioness willing to burn your Lazaretto about your ears . But O my Heavenly Father I know that these contradictory events are permitted and guided by thy Wisdom, which only is light" (1:270,271). Released from their confinement on 19 December, the lit-de family traveled to lodgings in Pisa. On Chrisunas Day Elizabeth put a little wine in a glass and said differ-ent portions of psalms and prayers which she had marked in her books, hoping for a happy moment. "We took the cup of Thanksgiving setting aside the sorrow of time, in the views of the joy of Eternity," she noted (1:273). Elizabeth then began the deathbed vigil that ended two days later. She recorded, "On Tuesday morning 27th December - [William's] soul was released - and mine from a struggle next to death." She continued, "In all this it is not necessary to dwell on the mercy and consoling 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross 260 presence of my dear Redeemer, for no mortal strength could support what I experienced" (1:274,275). The tears, prayers, and anguish Elizabeth suffered during her long watch with her sick and dying husbandincreased her trust in God and led her to a deeper identification with her suffering Savior. Her experiences became a part of her spirituality. Her continued trust in Divine Providence during her remaining time in Italy led her along paths that she could not have imagined. Impressed with the Catholic faith and practices of her Italian hosts, the Episcopalian Elizabeth entered into a long and anguished discernment over whether to remain in the church of her birth or to join the Catholic Church. For nearly a year she considered the argu-ments on each side, trying to listen to the voice of God. Longing for support and advice, she wrote to her Italian friend Antonio Filicchi: "Judge of my disappointment when only a few lines [from you] rewarded my anxious anticipations - however, at. the foot of my cross I found consolation, and kissing it over and over I repeated and repeat, there only I am never disappointed" (1:326). Elizabeth's uncertainty seemed to grow through the months, and she wrote of being "half dead with the inward struggle" (1:372). Yet, she confided to Antonio, "when some hours of consolation come, I think 'hard as the trial is, yet it is sweet' - I never knew till now what prayer is - never thought of fasting - though now it is more a habit than eating, never knew how to give up all, and send my spirit to mount Calvary, nor how to con-sole and delight it in the society of angels - 'Patience,' says my soul, 'He will not let you and your little ones perish, and if yet your life is given in the conflict, at the last he will nail all to his cross and receive you to his mercy'" (1:339). Review for Religious Elizabeth's decision to join the Catholic Church gained her inner peace and certitude, but led, as she later recorded, to "most painful remembrances now - yet grateful for the order of our Grace, so evident through all" (3a:519). The three years that she remained in New York after her conversion were difficult and gave her ample opportunity to share in the sufferings of Christ. Anti-Catholic sentiment made it hard for her to support her children and deprived her of much that her friends and family had provided. Her choice also occasioned some other troubles. Her two youngest Seton sisters-in-law, Harriet and Cecilia, and their cousin Eliza Farquhar were drawn to Elizabeth's Catholic fervor. When family members expressed disapproval, Cecilia's enthusiasm only grew stronger. Having been raised by Elizabeth from age seven, this young woman felt close bonds that were' strengthened by their shared desire for a devout living of their Christian faith. As she was. departing for Italy, Elizabeth had cau-tioned he.r young prot~g& "If you find that there are any obstacles in.your way, and doubtless you will find many as every Christian does in the fulfillment of his duty, still Persevere with yet more earnestness, and rejoice to bear your share in the Cross which is Our Passport and Seal to the Kingdom of our Redeemer" (1:224). Now, as Cecilia adamantly pursued the course of following Elizabeth into the Catholic Church, the younger woman met with severe opposition and even threats from her family. Elizabeth supported her as best she could, writing on Christmas Eve 1805: "My dear dear child I beg, beseech, implore you, to offer up all your pains, your Sorrows, and vexations to God that he will unite them with the Sorrows, the pangs and anguish which Our adored Redeemer bore for us on the Cross 261 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross "Dwelling under :the Shadow of His Cross we will cheerfully gather the thorns which will be t~urned hereafter into a joyful crown" 262] - place yourself in spirit at the foot of that cross, and entreat that a drop of that precious blood there shed may fall on you to enlighten strengthen and support your Soul in this life and ensure its eternal Salvation in the next" (1:398). When Cecilia joined the Catholic Church, a violent storm broke in the extended Seton family. For a time she was confined to her room, threats were made to send her to the West Indies, and even to burn Elizabeth's house down over her head. Eventually the new convert tied her clothes up in a bundle and went to liv~ with Elizabeth for a time.2 During Cecilia's period of trial Elizabeth kept a daily spiritual jour-nal. In it she shared her own prayer expe-riences, along with offering counsel, and encouragement. In one entry she noted: "Pain and Resignation instead of the Treasure [Eucharist] this day -but He is then most near - while Weeping under his Cross we are there content to stay" (1:470). In another, Elizabeth encouraged her young relative: "May we never leave the sheltering wing, but dwelling under the Shadow of His Cross we will cheer-fully gather the thorns which will be turned hereafter into a joyful crown" (1:473). When Elizabeth Seton made the decision to move her family to Baltimore in spring 1808, her only hesi-tation was leaving her young relative and confidante behind in New York. Cecilia wanted to accompany Review for Religious Elizabeth but also felt an obligation to care for her brother James's children. Elizabeth missed Cecilia terribly and buoyed her-self with the thought that "there is no distance for souls united as ours" (2:6). During the year the two were sepa-rated, Cecilia continued to face difficulties and obsta-cles to her hopes of joining her beloved "Sister," as she referred to Elizabeth, while Elizabeth was peaceful and delighted with her new situation. In this light Elizabeth wrote to her "most precious child": "It is poor Sister who must beg you to pray for her --I am at rest my darling while you are mounting the heights of Sion - often too I sleep in the Garden, while you are sharing the bitter cup, but it is not to be so for long, his mercies are end-less and I shall not be left without my portion" (2:21). The two were joyfully reunited in June 1809 when Cecilia arrived in Maryland with plans to join the newly forming community of the Sisters of Charity. She enthu- ¯ siastically plunged into this new life, but her delicate health continued to decline. By early 1810 Elizabeth wrote to her friend Eliza Sadler: "My heart faints when I think of this separation. No one can conceive of.what she is to me - but - but-fiat" (2:111).,,Cecilia died of tuberculosis within several months, having well learned the spiritual lessons offered by suffering., ,As Cecilia Seton passed from Elizabeth's life, another Cecilia became an intimate companion. Cecilia O'Conway, a young woman from Philadelphia, was planning to travel to Europe to become a nun. Instead, On the recommendation of her. priest-director, she became the first woman to join Elizabeth at her school in Baltimore~ These two women shared many of the same spiritual goals and became friends almost .at once. Cecilia was enthusiastic about becoming a Sister of 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Charity, and through the trials of the early years offered loving support to Elizabeth, who referred to her friend as "the angel of the Community. a true. and solid comfort" (2:141). Cecilia was indeed a true comfort as Elizabeth struggled through the difficulties of establish-ing a religious community and bore the sorrov¢ of'the deaths of two of her daughters. In August 1817 the two women were separated when Cecilia was amongthe first sisters sent to take charge 6f the .Catholic orphafi asylum in New York City. She was not happy to be separated from Elizabeth or to be thrust into the bustle of city life. But her spiritual mother chal-lenged her: "My own Cecilia - going on her heavenly errand and to crucify Self- . . . if you suffer, so much the better for our high journey above - the only fear I have is that you will let the old string pull too hard for solitude and silence, but look to the Kingdom of souls -, . this is not a country, my dear one, for Solitude and Silence, but of warfare and crucifixion- You are not to stay in his silent agonies of the garden at night, but go from post to pillar to the very fastening on the cross and mind, my lady, how you dare glahce a thought at pull-ing out a nail which he put in with my hand, while his own so dear will hammer it up to the very head I expect - I beg him with a mother's agony to do it softly and tenderly - would wish so to hold your dear head while he does it, but he answers, 'no one held his'., but yet he will hold it himself supporting with one hand, and fastening with the other" (2i498-499). During Cecilia's years in New York, she and Elizabeth maintained a lively correspondence .chal-lenging each other to an ever deeper union with their Redeemer. In their letters they exhorted each other to accept the sufferings, both physical and emotional, that R~view for Religious they were experiencing, and to receive them in the spirit of participating in the Lord's passion. "May you enjoy true peace in Him who has nailed us," Elizabeth wrote; "I would not pull the smallest nail out for a thousand worlds" (2:682). In her newsy letters Elizabeth kept Cecilia apprised of her declining health, telling her in July 1818, "I have no symptoms now of hastening Death as when I wrote you [earlier] - slow, slow and sure" (2:569). A few months later Elizabeth reminded her spiritual daughter of "how little is all that passes with this life . therefore we must be so careful to meet our grace," She then contin-ued: "Isaac come forth - the wood and fire are here, let not the Victim be wanting" (2:595). And the following month Elizabeth urged the younger woman to "take the abundant sweet heavenly grace from day to day, only seeking and seeing him in all our little duties . . . and taking from. the hands of all around us every daily cross and trial as if he gave it himself" (2:600). After two years in New York, Cecilia returned to the motherhouse in Emmitsburg, where she could again share her days with her beloved friend. With Elizabeth's health continuing to decline, Cecilia became one of her nurses. Staying close by her bed, she made sure Elizabeth had a crucifix available to assist her prayer, and she was present among the mourners when Elizabeth's last hour arrived. Am6ng EliEabeth's writings meditation on "the communion lof the cross." 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross 266 Among Elizabeth's writings is a meditation on "the communion of the cross." In it she speaks of "the hap-piness of receiving our Lord and Savior in the holy Eucharist," yet points out that "we also receive him by the communion of his cross." "So," she continues, "when he invites us to come and receive him in afflic-tions' and sufferings, we should receive his chalice with the same ardor, and drink his Blood by faith . The great advantage of the communion of the cross is that we receive it when our Lord himself pleases and at the time he sees best." "Unhappily," she reflects, "we are. apt to think the very least suffering is too much, because we are lovers with our lips rather than our heart, while the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross." "All he asks of us is our good Will," but we. also "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude" (3a:419-422). Elizabeth's burning love of God and desire to imi-tate Jesus was something that grew within her as she matured through her life. It gave her a deep insight into the necessity of losing herself in order to gain union with God: She understood, as had many holy women and men before her, that she was invited to emulate Jesus' self-giving love - that "the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross," and as they, carry the cross they "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude." ~ The spirituality of the cross has been part of the Christian message from the time Jesus taught on this earth. Great saints, theologians, and spiritual guides through the centuries have stressed this same message. Today's Christian leaders continue to stress, as essential of our spirituality, our participation in Jesus' self-giving love, The German theologian Jiirgen Moltmann sees a kind of alchemy of Review for Religious love, where all the negativity and suffering of the world is touched by God and transformed into the victory of life.3 Johannes Metz, in his classic Poverty of Spirit, writes: "The legacy of God's total commiunent to humankind, the proof of God's fidelity to our poverty, is the cross [and] no one is exempted from the poverty of the cross.''4 Jessica Powers, in her poem "The Sign of the Cross," offers this same wisdom:5 The lovers of Christ lift out their hands to the great gift of suffering. For how could they seek to be warmed and clothed and delicately fed, when He the worthy went forth, wounded and hated, and grudged of even a place to lay His head? This is the badge of the friends of the Man of Sorrows: the mark of the cross, faint replica of His. Choose it, my heart. It is a beautiful sign. Notes ~ Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC, Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 4 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), vol. 3, part 2, pp. 74-75, hereafter cited in parentheses, thus: (3b:74-75). 2 Annabelle Melville, Elizabeth Barley Seton (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1951), p. 119. 3 Jiirgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, as described in Elizabeth Johnson, Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1990), p. 121. 4 Johannes B. Metz, Poverty of Spirit (New York, Paulist Press, 1968), pp. 19-20. ~ Regina Siegfried ASC and Robert E Morneau, Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1989), p. 150. 267 69.3 2010 AVIS CLENDENEN A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 2,68 Lheard a story a few years ago that got into the arrow of my bones and became a "dangerous memory." This term was coined by Johann Baptist Metz, who described it as an earlier experience breaking into our present lives and revealing new and provocative insights for the future. Such a breakthrough casts light on the deceptive nature of something we considered an evident good. It is a dangerous and incalculable visitant from the past. This memory has future content,~ The memory I wish to share is a story told by Sister of Mercy Betty Barrett on the occasion of her sixtieth jubilee as a vowed religious. Sister Betty Barrett entered the congregation in 1945. She devoted most of her ministerial life to education, becoming the president of Saint Xavier College in Chicago in the turbulent 1960s. In 1966 she supported an innovative idea to invite major Avis Clendenen most recently wrote for us in 2008. She is pro-fessor of religious studies and the Sister Irene Dugan RC Scholar in Spirituality at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious theological architects of the Second Vatican Council to the college for the inaugural symposium of the newly formed Pope John xxIII Institute. The tag line of the John xx]II Institute quoted John xxJII's call "to dedicate ourselves to that work which our era demands of us. ¯ remembering we are not on earth to guard a museum, but to cultivate a flourishing garden of life." . Imagine this small U.S. women's Catholic college thinking itself capable of hosting at one symposium Yves Congar, Jean Dani61ou, Charles Davis, Henri de Lubac, Johann Baptist Metz, John Courtney Murray, Edward Schillebeeckx, Karl Rahner, and others as well. The European theologians would for the first time bring the insights of the council documents to North America. For some, this would be their ~first trip to the United States. They all came. This gathering is exactly what President Sister Betty Barrett accomplished in early 1966, only four months after the council's close.2 The formation of the John xxlII Institute and the plan for the symposium became controversial. Archbishop John Cody of Chicago expressed reserva-tions about the symposium. He wrote to Sister Betty saying that such a gathering of theologians did not coin-cide with his norm for theological activities. He then issued a public decree that all ecclesiastical entities in the archdiocese must first obtain certification of cre-dentials from him before inviting to Chicago any priest from outside the archdiocese. All the council theologians invited were priest-theologians. The situation became an international story that saw the canonical authority of the local bishop as opposing academic freedom in institutions of higher education. The American press described the symposium, which drew more than three thousand participants to the little-known campus, as "an 269 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 270 event of unprecedented proportions," "an intellectual feast," and "a complex and strange event in the history of Catholic colleges at that time in North America." Interesting as it is, this event is not the key story of this essay. It is background for discussing the matter of dangerous memory. Sister Betty saw.the Second Vatican Council as Pope John xxIII did. She saw that aggiornamento was intimately tied,to justice and peace. While president, she became the first woman religious to be named to the Illinois Human Relations Commission. After her presidency she continued to advance the vision and mis-sion of ecclesial renewal and the claims of the social gospel through a variety of positions such as her min-istry with the Eighth Day Center for Justice and the Catholic Interracial Council. In her seventies she went to Central America to work with the poor, Though she tried desperately, she never learned Spanish well enough to speak or truly understand it. In her eighties she was asked at her sixtieth jubilee in April 2003 to share memories with those gathered to celebrate with her~ I shall paraphrase Sister Betty but speak for her in the first person. You know that when I went to Central America I could not speak the language of the people. You know I hold degrees of all kinds and functioned at a tremendous level of responsibility for many years while in the ministry of higher education. Yet, even after years and years of living among these beautiful people and interacting with them every day, I never managed to speak with them in their native tongue. So I was forced, so to speak, to plumb new depths of human communica-tion. While there, I came to realize that "being Review for Religious there"--presence--is what is most important in our ministry. Presence conveys a meaning that tran-scends even the need for words. This I learned very late in my ministerial life. Honoring this jubilee year of mine and know-ing that my ability to travel would only continue to diminish, the community offered me airfare to travel a last time to Honduras to see my friends. So a few weeks ago I took that trip. I went to the home of a family with whom I had been present during moments of joy and pain in their lives over a span of years. I walked into their humble living room and noticed something. There on the wall surround-ing the crucifix, were four pictures, each rever-ently hung near the cross. There was, of course, a picture 6f Our Lady of Guadalupe; a picture of Mother Catherine McAuley, the founder of the Sisters of Mercy; a picture of Archbishop Oscar Romero; and . a picture of me! What can I say to you about that moment in my life? Seeing the cross and our Lady, seeing that this family was so deeply touched by the min-istries of the Sisters of Mercy that they placed a portrait of a !9th century Irish woman near their own beloved Oscar Romero--and then to see my picture in that company! It was a moment of abject'humility, wonder, awe, an'd gratitude I will never forget. I could never really talk with them the way I am talking with you now, yet I was present to them over the long haul of many years. I share this story with you as an act of gratitude and humility for the gift of these sixty years of ser- 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Faring Myth 272] vice, and as a testimony of wonder to 'a God who can do more in us than we can "ask or imagine" (Ep 3:20). I was mesmerized by her tale. In hearing it, my own consciousness was altered forever about ministry and mystery, about growing old yet remaining ever new, and about the lost art of humility. I recognized her story from'the past as a memory bearing future content. This elegantly simple parable resounded in me, taking on the force of a great myth; it became part of the life I desire. I say this not with any intention to mimic her experience, but in the inspiring hope of living the nearly lost art of humility. Sister Betty told a little tale about one family, and they--all unaware--became a dangerous memory precisely because she knew her telling it could break into the present moment and bring us new and danger-ous insights. Such lives disrupt self-interest and ambition by being a vivid picture of largeness of mind and heart, which our noisy egos often do not notice. The mythic story of this elderly nun speaks :to the truth of the poet Mary Oliver's words: What I loved in the beginning, I think, was mosdy myself. Never mind that I had to,. since somebody had to. o That was many years ago. Since then I have gone out from my confinement~s, though with difficulty. And I have l~ecome the child of the clouds, and of hope. I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is. I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned, I have become younger. And what do. I risk to tell you this, which is all I know? Love yourself. Then forget it. Then, love the world.3 Review for Religious Living in an Age of Entitlement That last line is not an easy task in today's world. More than a decade ago I read, "The narcissistic per-sonality has become the most prominent~ personality type in the Western world.''4 At that time the statement caught me up short. Now I find it the lens through which I view the world I inhabit. In their new book The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement (2009), the psychologists Jean Twenge and W. Keith Campbell have documented and analyzed the troubling cultural trends of the past three decades. They suggest that North American culture itself is in the grip of a narcissism epidemic. According to Theodore Millon, professor of psychiatry at Harvard University, profes-sor of psychology at Miami University, and leading authority on personality disorders, "the label narcissism connotes more than .mere egocentricity. Narcissism sig-nifies, more specifically, that these individuals overvalue their personal worth, direct their affections toward themselves rather than others, and expect that others will recognize their unique and special value.''5 While I hesitate to labor the point, I think the fol-lowing list of traits and behavioral tendencies of the narcissistic personality can give us pause, in which to examine human consciousness. Those leaning toward narcissism tend ¯ To grandiosity, haughtiness, snobbishness, arrogance; ¯ To feelings of entitlement; praise for performance; ¯ To exploitation of and insensitivity toward others; ¯ To crave attention, which they see as deserved without need for reciprocity; ¯ To flout conventional rules and expectations of shared social living; 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare I-Iumili~y and a Future-Facing ~4yth ¯ To assume and often find that others feel hon-ored by their relationship, or to quickly train others to admire and obey them, with the result that the admirers insulate, them from self-aware hess of their limitations; ¯ To idealize those who satisfy their needs while treating contemptuously those who do not; the shifting of overvaluation to denigration occurs frequently in the same relationship; ¯ To preoccupation with personal adequacy, . power, prestige, and status; ¯ To heightened sensitivity to any form of criticism; ¯ To intolerance of perceived affronts to self-esteem that question their assumed inherent specialness; ¯ To take liberties with facts by embellishing them to maintain illusion of self-worth; ¯ To exaggerate abilities and accomplishments; to inflate and justify what they feel is due them, while depreciating those who refuse to accept or enhance their self-image; ¯ To use rationalization as a regulatorymechanism to cope with the inevitable personal failures or social humiliations by devising plausible reasons for self-justification and doing so with litde con-cern for others; and ¯ To lack interpersonal empathy.6 This detailed list of a narcissistic character is now embedded in the general population (and culture) where once such a description of human personality would have qualified as clinical narcissistic disorder. Ttie ethos of selfishness, individualism, utilitarianism, and instru-mentalism is taken for granted, not seen as problematic, and thus often remains unexamined. In turn, the values of community, altruism, and the life of the virtues are Review for Religious being undermined. A few years ago I heard the coor-dinator of the Jesuit Volunteers report that there was a lot of interest among young people who wanted to serve on their own terms. He referred to this as narclsslsnc idealism." According to Twenge and Campbell, no single event initiated the epidemic; instead, the values deep in the American psyche shifted Slowly toward individu- ~ alism, self-admiration, materialism, incivility, and entitlement. "Like a disease," they write, "narcissism is caused by certain factors, spreads through particular chan-nels, appears as various ~ ~ ~' symptoms, and might be ° - halted by preventive measures and cures. Narcissism is a psych0-cultural affliction rather than a physical disease, but the model works remarkably well.''7 Six years before The Narcissism Epidemic, Dr. ,Robert Moore, professor of psychoanalysis, culture, and spiritu-ality at Chicago Theological Seminary, in his book Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosity, announced the new contemporary crisis as "the epidemic of unregulated human grandiosity." Grandiosity refers to holding fantasies or embracing desires that are greater than your real life can support. According to Moore, either grandiosity makes you manic in running around to meet unrealistic demands or makes you depressed because your desires are essentially unachievable. Moore rallies our intellects and emotions to break through the existential denial of our "naive male" and "naive female" ,Cultural narcissism is d estructively shaping a :collusive and self-promoting ' way of livi g: 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 276] approach to the human situation by courageously con-fronting the aggressive cultural selling of pathological narcissism as a normative vision for human life.s The Narcissism Epidemic is replete with examples that reveal how cultural narcissism is destructively shaping a collusive and self-promoting way of living. In a chapter tided "Superspreaders!" they tell a tale from the televi-sion series "My Super Sweet 16": "Atlanta teen Allison tells a party planner she wants to block off part of Peachtree Street so there can be a parade for 'my grand entrance.' Peachtree is a major thoroughfare, the plan-ner reminds her. She responds, 'My sweet 16 is more important than wherever they have to be.' But there's a hospital across the street, the planner cautions--what if an ambulance can't get to the hospital? 'They can wait one second. Or they can go around,' she says cavalierly. Amid all of this, Allison's mother just listens. When the planner finally turns to her in exasperation, she says, 'If Allison wants it, make it happen.' So much for that dying person in the ambulance." The narcissistic "enti-dement" expressed here by the mother points to the odd perpetual adolescence of many American adults. Twenge and Campbell say that adolescence, the most narcissis-tic time of life, is being extended beyond all previous limits.9 Clearly such happenings are not isolated aberra-tions; they are cultural markers of the superspreading of a distorted collective psyche, that needs attention, fast. In Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change, the physicist and futurist Peter Russell said, "Our power to change the world may have made prodigious leaps but our internal development, the development of our attitudes and values, has pro-gressed more slowly. We seem to be as prone to greed, aggression, shortsightedness, and self-centeredness as Review for Religious we were 2,500 years ago . If we are to survive the critical times we are now passing through, it is essen-tial we undergo a profound shift in values and awaken to our inner truths and our full spiritual potential.''1° Effecting such a shift and awakening has been the mis-sion of Benetvision: A Resource and Research Center for Contemporary Spirituality founded by Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister. Interestingly, Twenge, Campbell, Moore, Russell, and Chittister11 all suggest a return to the lost art of the virtuous life as a way to stem and bring healing to the epidemic of entidement and grandiosity that marks and mars our current North American culture. Risking Humility The final chapter of The Narciss#m Epidemic, "Treating the Epidemic of Narcissism," sees the recovery of authentic humility as the way to lessen the narcissism in our lives and in our culture. Humility is the counter-balance to narcissism, the creative opposite to its viru-lence. Modesty, lack of pretense, absence of arrogance, and refinement of character--so evident in Sister Betty's jubilee tale--are vitally necessary in today's personal and communal reflection. Her unaffected wonder at finding her own picture in the company of Oscar Romero's, and Catherine McAuley's, and Our Lady of Guadalupe's, at the foot of the cross has to make you and me wonder: Do we truly believe that God can do more in us than we ever imagined--or could ever imagine? Her awe at seeing what she and her ministry meant to this poor, loving family puts us in awe, even a feeling of danger. What does this mean for the many in our country whose lives are far too self-focused and comfortable? Has a cer-tain impoverishment accompanied i:he world's material progress? Have we--ourselves, our communities, our 69.3 2010 Clendenen * A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 278 Humility is the ancient ever-new ~irtue that ke~s us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. culture--settled into a certain mediocrity, an exagger-ated feeling of entidement? Is our ministry simple and un-self-conscious enough to be a wondrous conduit for God's goodness and inspire a needy people's transcendent gratitude? Is the path to greater human success and hap-piness much more toward inwardness than upwardness? Humility is the ancient ever-new virtue that keeps us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. Sister Betty felt her lack of facility with Spanish as a weakness, and therein was her humble open-ness to receive new graces and new skills, even in her seventies. She brought those graces to some of God's people in their times of joy and grief. Twelve-step recovery has something to say about this. It advises people to strive for spiritual prog-ress, not perfection, and to admit their powerless-ness, accept their limits, and thereby find true freedom. Such yielding in honesty to a Power greater than ourselves enables people to risk humility. In that humility they find themselves able to understand the Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12) and to risk living in meekness, gentleness, empathy, self-donating love, and freely chosen accountability. The word humility comes from the Latin word humi-lis, meaning "low," which, in turn, comes from the Latin humus, which means "earth" or "dirt" or "soil." The 12th-century Benedictine abbess and mystic Hildegard of Bingen understood the dangers of not paying atten- Review for Religious tion to nature and all natural things. She devoted one of her many writings to virtues and vices. She was con-vinced that virtues are more than moral habits: they are therapeutic forces within human nature that can produce wonderful transformations. In her legendary Scivias (a Latin abbreviation for. "knowing the Lord's ways"), she said, "Virtue is like a warm garment in a cold world; it is the source of charm in a harsh world" (~1.1.4). Hildegard also wrote the following in one of her many letters of advice to religious leaders: Walk through the valley of humility and know peace. Lose your titanic, hard-to-satisfy ego. A greedy self-esteem is just a steep mountain you'll find dangerous to climb. It's also tricky (if not impossible) to come down from such heights, and anyhow the summit is too small for community. Focus on Love's splendid garden instead. Gather the flowers of humility and simplicity of soul. Study God's patience. Keep your eyes open.12 Sister Betty Barrett's humble, warm, and charming story carries a wallop, as myths do. It is much more than an elderly sister's pleasant memory. It is a dangerous memory. It can affect the future. Notes ~ Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 2 [See The Word in History: The St. Xavier Forum, ed. T. Patrick Burke (New York: Sheed and Ward; 1966). Ed.] 3 Mary Oliver, "To Begin With, the Sweet Grass," Evidence (Boston: Beacon Press, 2009), pp. 38-39. 4 L. Sperry and H.L. Ansbacker, "The Concept of Narcissism and Narcissistic Personality Disorder," Psychopathology and Psychotherapy (Washington, D.C.: Accelerated Development, 1996), p. 349. 5 Theodore Millon and George S. Everly Jr., Personality and Its Disorders: A Biosocial Learning Approach (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1985), p. 70. [279 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 6 Theodore Millon, Personality-Guided Therapy (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1999), pp. 433-463. 7 Jean M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell, Living in the Age of Entitlement: The Narcissism Epidemic (New York: Free Press, 2009), p. 2. s Robert L. Moore, Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosi~y (Wilmette: Chiron Publications, 2003), pp. 61, 68, 69, 145-146. 9 Twenge and Campbell, Living, pp. 100.101,234. The TV stoW and other insights in this article also appear in "Book Notes," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 35, no. 1 (Fall 2009): 34-35. 10 Peter Russell, Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change (Novato, California: Origin Press, 1992), pp. 38, 154. 11 See Joan D. Chittister, "Pride and Humility," in Heart of Flesh: A Feminist Spirituality for Women and Men (Grand Rapids: ~William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998), pp. 89-106. ~2 Carmen Acevedo Butcher, Hildegard of Bingen: A Spiritual Reader (Brewster, Massachusetts: Paraclete Press, 2007), p. 159. You who calmed. You who calmed the winds and sea, Jesus, calm and center me. Draw me in and hold my gaze Soothe and silence me these days. Deep is calling unto deep. I give you all my cares to keep. You who calmed the winds and sea. Jesus, calm and center me. Mary Jan6 Higgins RSM Review for Religious ROBERT J. NOGOSEK Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice When I was nineteen years old and a university student, I made a weekend retreat in the Gethsemani Trappist monastery in Kentucky. I was ~rying to decide whether or not I should enter religious life. At one of the retreat con-ferences, an elderly monk printed in block let-ters on the blackboard the word success, putting two vertical lines through each S to make it a dollar sign. He said the world sees success as making money, but real success in life is not about dollars. We needed to turn one vertical line sideways and make a cross. ~ This said a lot about the Trappist life I was observing. The white-robed monks seemed to live a foolish life not at all conducive to hap-piness° keeping silence, arising in the middle Robert J. Nogosek CSC has been a ~heology profes-sor and a parish pastor among other responsibilities. His address is P.O. Box 929; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. liv!np religious life 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 282 of the night to chant psalms together in a cold chapel, and eating crusty bread in a diet often deprived of meat. But I saw in the monks a remarkable humor I had never seen before. It seemed that for them life was a big joke. I decided I wanted the joy they had, and their way of seeing the meaning of life in this world. Back at college I returned to my sophomore classes. One of the courses was on the four Gospels, printed in parallel columns to show similarities and differences in the story of Jesus. As I s~t in class somewhat bored one spring afternoon, it suddenly occurred to me that the Gospels were practical--that living the Gospels made good sense. I saw this in the story of the rich young man in Matthew 19. He already had more than enough money and possessions while keeping all the command-ments, but was still discontented. He asked what more he could do to have a better life. Jesus graciously invited him to join the community, of disciples, but first he must sell all he had and give the money to the poor. This is how the Trappist monk had explained success. It helped me to see that by joining a religious community I could live the gospel in a literal way, like those who had fol-lowed Jesus in Galilee. The greatest day in my life came some months later on my clothing day. Upon receiving the religious habit with many others that day, I saw myself as having left. the world to join with the others in a life centered on friendship with Jesus Christ. It would consist in living a religious rule. That did not seem to be a great sacrifice, but rather the way to be myself, apart from a world that ran after money and other false values. This freedom to be myself did not initially translate into becoming a gift for others, as St. Paul describes it in Galatians 5:13--"you were called for freedom, brothers. Review for Religious But do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh; rather, serve one another through love." Instead, I concentrated on having a direct relationship with Jesus. It was only much later that I realized that God created me to live as a member of the human family, and that this meant sharing my heart with others. Gradually this was extended to seeing myself as a brother to any other human being I might meet. Seeking Perfection I began to see that progress in union with God involved seeking what was called "the perfection of charity." Vatican Council II would state that the pur-pose of religious life is to make the perfection ; of charity a "very clear symbol" (Flannery) or ~ a "blazing emblem" (Abbott) of the kingdom of God (PC §I). Our love for Jesus is to flow out in love of neighbor, which, as Pope Paul VI . . ~, wrote, is to be extended to the whole human race (Ecclesiam suam, §58). As the ancient hymn Ubi Caritas had stated, charity (caritas) united with heartfelt love (amor) makes God present in the world. Vatican II also stated that religious profession of the evangelical councils is to free us from obstacles that might draw us away not only from the fervor of char-ity, but also from "the perfection of divine worship" (LG §4). This perfection of divine worship would be our response to the Orate Fratres at Mass in praying I began to see that progress in union with GOd involved ~seeking what was called ~ '~the perfection of charity. " [283 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 284 that our sacrifice "be acceptable to God, the Father Almighty." But this perfection of divine worship also requires the perfection of charity, as St. Paul suggests by saying that the loving gift the Philippians sent him is the "fragrant aroma'.' of "an acceptable sacrifice, pleas-ing to God" (Ph 4:18). Vatican II calls the Eucharist "a sacrament of love" and "a bond of charity" (SC §47), not unlike St. Thomas saying that Holy Communion incites into action our dispositions to be charitable (ST III.79.1 ad 2)~ He cites 2 Corinthians 5:14--"the love of Christ impels us." This could be why the new liturgy has shortened the time after Holy Communion. We are not to bury our face in our hands in private adoration of Jesus in our heart, but rather to ready ourselves for reaching out to others. It calls me "to put off the old man" (Col 3:9) of self-centeredness, and put into action the command-ment of loving others as Jesus has loved me. Jesus wants to be loved in his people, as a religious sister once heard in her heart when, upon kissing the crucifix before retir-ing, she heard the words "Kiss my people." Personal Fulfillment Even though I had often heard women religious speak of their quest for "fulfillment," it took years for me to revise my original desire for success in life into a language of personal fulfillment. I had not expected to be "fulfilled" as a person by the sacrifice represented in religious profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience, any more than I had seen the austerity of the Trappist life as a way to personal fulfillment in this world. Making life seem like a joke could hardly be called "ful-fillment." My thinking was changed, however, in part by a parable in C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity (Bk 4, 9). Review fir Religious According to an adaptation of the story, you invite a friend to live with you in your house. After some time, you notice blueprints have been spread out on the din-ing- room table. Inspecting them, you realize your guest has elaborate plans to transform your little house into a great palace--"throwing out a new wing here, put-ring on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards." As C.S. Lewis comments, it is as though your guest wants to make it a home worthy of himself. To think of Jesus as actually living with me in my heart was not something I had learned in catechism. We had been told that the Holy Spirit was the divine guest in our heart, bug the real presence of Jesus was only in the host in the tabernacle, except when Jesus cam to us in Holy Communion and stayed for seven minutes.~ But during novitiate I had read some books of Raoul Plus SJ, especially one entitled In Christ Jesus, showing from the writings of St. Paul that by baptismal grace we have, abiding in our heart,, the real presence of Jesus. It is the same Jesus as resides in the tabernacle--body and blood, soul and divinity. In Holy Communion he does not come for a visit; he comes to stay. Others around me disagreed, but I was sure Plus was right about this teaching of St. Paul. Later I would also find it in St. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle. If the real presence of Jesus dwells in us, then we also meet him in others, and what others share in truth and love could well be a gift to us directly from Jesus in their heart. This makes our mutual sharing of life crucial to our relationship with Jesus. It took me beyond the Little Flower's Way of Spiritual Childhood, which long before I had been drawn to by the Trappist monks. There is something more than putting as much love as possible into each action; I am also called to make a 69.3 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice gift of myself to others so as to communicate the love of Jesus, who dwells within my heart. This amounts to being a grace to others. It is the language of spiritual gifts or charisms. Charisms During formation I. was repeatedly urged to rec-ognize my special talents and gifts, since religious life involves a commitment to strive for personal and spiri-tual growth. I was told that "grace builds on i~ature." So what is my nature as an individual? What talents and personality had I brought with me into religious life? These efforts at self-scrutiny often left me feel-ing quite discouraged. I lacked so much of what others around me had in talents and personality. Only much later would I see this differently, in part because of the parable in Mere Christianity--that inviting Jesus into my heart could result in my being radically changed as a person. In calling me to discipleship, Jesus may well be planning to have me express myself in wonderful ways, just as he had promised his disciples that they would do greater works than he had done (Jn 14:12). We know that by receiving his Body we become his Body, so that, like him (LG §5), our words, actions, and personal presence can reveal the kingdom of God on earth. This could represent the "abundant fruit from the grace of baptism" which Vatican II says we will be enabled to have by religious profession (LG §44). If I am to be a grace to others by charisms, I have to come out ofmy shell. This is like a cartoon I once saw. In the first frame, there is a big egg bouncing up and down. In the next frame a duckling has poked out his head through the shell, and looks around in fright. In the final frame he has dived headfirst back into the egg. It is much Review for Religious the same with charisms. We have to drop our defenses and risk being a person in new ways before others. Walking on the Water Underlying Vatican II's Pastoral Constitution of the Church in the Modern World is the story of walking on water in Matthew 14. Jesus is walking on the waters of today's world, and -- - invites us, like St. Peter, to get out of our boat to ioin him. This is to fol-low our discerning "the signs of the times" (GS §.4), which are the ques-tions and yearnings of people today.2 - It means trying something new. In leaving our comfort zone, we will need to keep our eyes on Jesus. St. Peter started sinking only when he looked around and felt the wind blowing hard against him. This suggests that charisms do not form part of our personal identity. Although we have been given the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit at confirmation, these are not graces to give grace to others, but rather a disposi-tion to be sensitive to the breath of the Spirit, which, as Jesus said, may come and go like the summer breeze (Jn 3:8). Our personal defects remain; it is as "earthen vessels" (2 Co 4:7) that we carry Christ's grace to others. Maybe, in our self-gift to others, the power of Jesus will be conveyed, even through our defects and vulnerability. St~ Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:10--"when I am weak, then I am strong." Jesus is walking on the ¯ wafers bf today's world, and invites us, like St. Peter, . "to~et out Of our.boat to join him. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice The opportunity for that came up early in my reli-gious life. Just as I completed studies in biblical theol-ogy, I received a letter assigning me to teach dogmatic theology. Upon arriving in the classroom a few months later, I steadied my nerves by recalling G.K. Chesterton: "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." But the course turned out quite well. The students enjoyed my attempts to use the Bible to understand dogma in place of the traditional Neo-Scholasticism they had been hearing. Again, many years later, I was invited to join a team in southern California doing evangelization among Mexican immigrants. I told God that if he wanted me to do this, he would have to teach me Spanish. Initially some of the people rejected me because they sensed I did not understand what they were saying. That was quite true, but, when with them, I would repeat a word or phrase they had said just to keep them talking. Since I loved the people, I was quite happy to be able to communicate even a little bit and to keep on listening. After they came to see I really liked being with them, they began showing that they liked being with "Padre Roberto." At the same time I was making a big hit with their children, maybe because I saw each child as just as much a person as I was. With their kids so fond of me, as time went on their parents became more satisfied with me as I was. 2881 Inner Resistance to Grace Like the companions of St. Peter on the lake that stormy night, we are likely to have a lot of reluctance "to get out of the boat" to join Jesus walking on the water. This is typical of the resistance described by St. Paul's discussion of Christian freedom in Galatians 5. He calls it "the desire of the flesh." When I first arrived at Review for Religious Coachella, California, as the new pastor of an Hispanic parish, I was determined to follow the example of St. John Vianney, who had started out as cur4 of Ars by knocking on doors to visit the people in their homes.3 To make this happen, I put it on my schedule for cer-tain evenings each week. As I got into my car at 7 p.m., usually I would not feel like going, but I went anyway, and once I was interacting with the people I enjoyed it--and they did too. In Sunday homilies I would tell the people that, if they wanted to experience the Holy Spirit (and I knew they did), they should do something for someone. I said the presence of the Holy Spirit is felt mainly in our actions. Others say the same: that when they visit the sick, or even someone in jail, they "get more out of it" than they give. We may feel like new persons in our spontaneity of interact-ing with others out of our love for Jesus. People even relate that they have said things that surprised them, things they had never thought of before. This recalls the promise of Jesus about the gift of the Holy Spirit-- that we should not prepare what to say beforehand, for in our witness itself the Spirit would give us the words to say (Mt 10:20). 'The presence of the Holy: Spirit is felt mainly .fin our actionS. Charisms and Renewal In its call to renewal, Vatican II invites us to aspire to have charisms typical of the early church. Both Pope John xxIII and Pope Paul VI called for a "New Pentecost," to restore to the church today the youth- 69.:~ 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice fulness and enthusiasm it had when it first came from the hands of Jesus. When we look at early Christianity in comparison with the church today, we wonder what caused the rapid growth in the number of believers. Rodney Stark in The Rise of Christianity estimates that during the first three centuries the number of Christians increased by forty percent every ten years, beginning in A.D. 40 with about 1,000, and' attaining more than 33,000,000 believers by the year 350 (p. 7). As a soci- ,ologist of religion, he suggests that .the best explana-tion for this phenomenal growth was the way Christians responded to the epidemics in. the empire, which would ravage the entire population at least once every century, with mortality rates of up to thir.ty percent (pp. 73ff). Even the emperor Marcus Aurelius was among the vic-tims in the year 180. At such times the pagans would flee in panic from their homes and cities, abandoning without food and water their loved ones who had fallen ill, and even refusing to bury the dead. The Christians, however, by reason of their love of Christ, would care for their sick and with devotion bury their dead. This care was extended not only to fellow Christians but also to the many pagans married to Christians, and to some of their pagan friends as well. Stark concludes: "This meant that in the aftermath of each epidemic, Christians made up a larger percentage of the population, even without new converts. Moreover, their noticeable better survival rate would have seemed a "miracle" to Christians and pagans alike, and this ought to have influenced conversions." Typically at the beginning of religious communities there was a phenomenal growth in the number of new members, who were attracted to the founder's charism in response to a critical need, even at great sacrifice. In Review for Religious founding my own Holy Cross community, Blessed Basil Moreau was responding not only to the secularization of France after the French Revolution, but also to pleas for help from European missionaries serving in Africa, North America, and Asia. After forming a community of men and women committed to the hearts of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he put many of them at risk by sending them abroad with few material resources, saying that as Holy Cross religious "the Cross is our only hope." He meant that, when as a community we suffer great trials while engaged in service of others, it is a sign from divine providence that our efforts will produce fruit beyond human possibilities. With such words derived from St. Paul, Moreau was transforming the French school of spirituality, with its devotion to the mystery of the incar-nation, into a trust in the paschal mystery. This fostered a bold reliance on divine providence in undertaking dif-ficult apostolates in new environments, to which we were being invited as a new apostolic religious community committed to serving the church. A New Image of the Church According to Vatican II, the church today needs a critical reform of its image, that it be much more a sign of the good news of the kingdom of God. By his 1964 encyclical, Ecclesiam suam, Pope Paul vI challenged the council fathers on the eve of the third session "to com-pare the ideal image of the church, just as Christ sees it, wills it, and loves it. with the actual image the church projects today" (§ 11). This entails, he says, "correction of the defects that conscience denounces and rejects, as if, standing before a mirror, we were to examine interiorly the image of Christ that he has left us." These "necessary reforms," he says, will be "delicate and difficult" (§12). 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 292 One delicate task of the council was that of altering the image of the church that Pope Pius XIl had presented in 1943 in his renowned encyclical Mystici Corporis. Pius identified the church as the Body. of Christ by being "a perfect society" in its juridical structure. Some of the council fathers would describe this image of the church as the "barque of Peter," with the clergy and religious as the crew and the laity their precious cargo to be transported safely across the treacherous waters of the world to the safe harbor of heaven. The council saw, however, that this is not the way the church should be. Gaudium et spes would call us out of the boat, and especially the laity, who were to see themselves as the primary evangelizers of modern society (LG §31). They were called to this and equipped for it in their baptism and confirmation (LG §33). The obligation came from Christ's commandment to love our neighbor, and the equipment would be the spiritual gifts called charisms. Their ordained pastors were to help them discern their charisms, form them as lay apostles, and give them "room for action" (LG §37). As a preferred image of the church, the council chose the biblical term "people of God." It was remi-niscent not only of the Hebrew people freed from the slavery of Egypt and guided by God through the desert, but also of the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish in Mark 6, where Jesus has the multitude sit down on the grass in groups of hundreds and fifties. Rather than mainly showing itself as a well-defended and highly organized juridical body, the church is to make itself seen in the world as a movement of faith-filled people. The world today needs to experience the presence of God, and that can best happen where mem-bers of the church form small Christian communities Re'view for Religious through "familial love" of one another and collaboration for the faith of the gospel (GS §22). This encourages an "ecclesiology from below" char-acteristic of the way St. Paul in Ephesians 4 describes members of the church being formed into the Body of Christ. By sharing our truth in the spirit of love, we are to "grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ." The sharing is by dialogue, which had been promoted by Pope Paul vI in Ecdesiam suam and would be declared by Vatican II to be the special charac-teristic of the mis-sion of the church today (GS §82): "In virtue of its mis-sion to enlighten the whole world with the message of the gospel and to "r ~ gather together into one spirit all women and men of every nation, race, and culture, the church shows itself as a sign of that amity which renders possible sincere dialogue and strengthens it." By this we are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing community life, and what sign value it provides for others. Are we living "that amity which renders sincere dialogue and strengthens it"? At Coachella we did receive something of a posi-tive answer regarding the sign value of our community life. Three years after we arrived, the diocese conducted a thorough evaluation of the parish put into our care. One group of parishioners reported that before we came to the parish they were highly critical of one, another as parishioners. But, having noticed that the Holy Cross , 'We are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing .,community life, and what sign value it prov!des for others. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 294 priests and brothers never voiced a word of criticism towards one another, they decided they also should act that way toward one another. This had not happened sim-ply from our faithfulness to prayer and our apostolic zeal as a religious community. We had made the sacrifice of having weekly house chapters, where we shared with one another what was on our minds and in our hearts. Atoleast in this respect, we hhd succeeded in being "a sign which can and ought to attract all the members of the church to an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their religious vocation" (LG §44). Certainly the religious vocation of all the parishioners was to live out the New Commandment byloving one another aiad making it vis-ible. We also knew that the parishioners were .to see us as a sign that "heavenly blessings'? were already present in this wtrld, foretelling "the resurrected state and the glory of the heavenly kingdom" (LG §4). For that to take place, we would have to show the people that we loved them just as they were, and in very concrete ways. The Rich Man and Lazarus According to the council, religious are "to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," which includes his choosing to live as a poor man, as also was chosen by his virgin mother (LG §46). Here Vatican II was not saying anything new. What was new, and espe-cially challenging, was that as members of the church we are to evaluate the image we give to the world in light of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16): "Everyone must consider his neighbor without excep-tion as another self, taking into account first of all his life and the means necessary to living it with dignity, so as not to imitate the rich man who had no concern for the poor man Lazarus" (GS §27). Review for Religious Here again we are challenged to evaluate our sign value as a religious community. According to Gaudium et spes (§88), if we are living in a nation where "a majority of citizens who are counted as Christians have an abundance of this world's goods," we are in grave danger of causing scandal to the many nations where the majority are not Christian, and where the citizens "are deprived of the necessities of life and are tormented with hunger, disease, and every kind of misery." The council says that this is "as if Christ himself were appealing to the charity of his followers through the mouths of these poor people." How will Jesus see our life as a religious congrega-tion when he comes on the Last Day? How certain are we to be among those at his right hand when he comes in glory to judge the members of all nations by the cri-terion of how they served the needy? An Acceptable Sacrifice .Since Vatican II saw the mission of Jesus being con-tinued by the church, Pope John Paul II liked to repeat that the way of the church is to be the way of Jesus Christ. Jesus said we must lose our life for his sake in order to find it (Mt 10:39). He told those who wanted to follow him: "Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head" (Lk 9:58). St. Paul wrote that by our bearing affliction "the love of God will be poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Like St. Paul, we do not want Jesus to have died in vain, nor that his presence touch only those who believe in the Eucharist. As friends of Jesus, we want to help him make the world better, that the pleasing aroma cre-ated by his presence in us may indeed be, as St. Paul says, not as "an odor that leads to death" where people 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice reject gospel values--but rather "an odor of life that leads to life" (2,Co 2:16), where people are attracted to a gift of freedom to be themselves through sharing the wisdom, help, and love of the Holy Spirit. But today, as consecrated women and men "eval-uating the contemporary world wisely in the light of faith" (PC §2), we must ask whether the way we live our religious profession is truly becoming "an accept-able sacrifice." Jesus said that before he returned "the love of many would grow cold" (Mr 24:12), and he asked whether he would find faith upon the earth when he came again (Lk 18:8). Notes ~ It takes about seven minutes for the host to dissolve in the stomach and the consecrated host to be no longer present. 2 Although some church leaders interpret these signs as today's troubles and thus may see the world as especially hostile to the gospel, I would argue that according to Vatican II our times are today's evangeli-cal opportunity prepared by God's Spirit breathing over the world. 3 Francis Trochu, The Curi of Ars (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1977), pp. 116f. 296[ Gamble If l but touch his clothes. Mark 5:28 Did the soldier who won and wore the seamless robe allow it to touch him? Irene Zimmerman OSF Review for Religiou~ 'JEFFREY MICKLER Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Itw"googled" the term "difficult people" and instantly o hundred million sites were found. Business managers, owners, and employees are all seeking answers on how to cope with people who are genuinely difficult to get along with. The hilarious 1980 movie Nine to Five told of the revenge three female employ-ees took against their male chauvinist boss. In real life, however, revenge is never a solution, and dealing with difficult people is never really funny. Hence, there are books like Sandra A. Crowe's Since Strangling Isn't an Option. Difficult people drain others' enthusiasm and suck the life out of organizations, as the title Working with You Is Killing Me by Katherine Crowley and Kathi Elster suggests.' Dealing with difficult people in the workplace is one thing. Living with them in a religious commu- Jeffrey Mickler SSP has worked in formation and various other min-istries and was provincial of the Paulists' United States Province. His address is Box 595; 9531 Akron Canfield Road (Rt 224); Canfield, Ohio 44406. 69.3 2010 Mickler ¯ Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 298 nity raises the bar. Although all of us can be difficult at times, some religious are chronically difficult and even hostile. Augustine Poulain SJ in his 19th-century spiritual classic The lnterior Graces describes one type of difficult religious: Another trial., is living with an irritable person who finds fault with everything, never speaks a pleasant word . These difficult characters often have the reputation of being very amiable abroad because they are full of attention for those whom they need, or those who would not allow themselves to be bullied. These nervous natures may be likened to torpe-does on account of the charges that they let fly at those who .approach them. It is impossible to arrange any matter with them clearly and quietly. Above all, let no one try to excuse himself when they accuse him of anything or [try to] prove to them that they are mistaken . The volcano will then be in full eruption. Such minds will never be in the wrong; they alone are endowed with sound judgment. This behavior shows., a grave lack of charity. In community, characters of this. nature make life very difficult for others, and are sometimes the cause of abandonment of vocations.2 Father Stephen Rossetti, of St. Luke Institute in Silver Spring, Maryland, in his recorded conference Spirituality of Christian Leadership, describes such people as suffering "chronically impaired social functioning." These individuals have "inflexible, maladaptive ways of dealing with other people." Wherever they are sta-tioned, they divide and disrupt communities. Their nat-ural charm ensures that they will have some supporters, but their anger at the world for not revolving around their needs makes them almost impossible to live with. When confronted by authority with a long list of com-plaints, these people blame others and are unable to Review for Religious grasp that they themselves have caused any problems. Father Rossetti points out that they have narcissistic personalities. When confronted, they erupt into a rage that sends shock waves through a community.3 Some of them end up living in their own apartments because provincials can find no communities willing to tolerate daeir divisive behavior. Rossetti says the chances of changing them for the better are extremely slim. Traditional therapies have proven fruitless. He advises giving such persons honest feedback, together with strict and clear guidelines for their behavior. Leaders must be compas-sionate towards them, but firm. ¯ theses.temperaments. The leadership has a responsibility to do all in its power to prevent them from terrorizing the community and running roughshod over people.4 Rossetti's position that modern therapy can do lit-tle to change such characters corresponds to Poulain's 19th-century assessment: "I have seen very religious persons try to cure themselves of this irritability. They have been unable to succeed . I think a miracle is required to overcome these temperaments.''5 Se~in Sammon of the Marist Brothers has done extensive research on dealing with difficult people. Drawing upon the works of Robert M. Bramson, Charles J. Keating, and Robert L. Veninga and James P. Spradley, he has developed a pragmatic and effective ~ have seen very religious persons try t6 cure themselvesof this irritabiiity. I think a miracle 'is rdqyire~:to overcome 69.3 2010 Mickler * Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 300 approach that is presented on tapes from St Pauls/Alba House, Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Person. Like Poulain and Rossetti, Sammon acknowledges that efforts to change truly difficult people are basically fruitless. He suggests, however, ways we ourselves can change in order to better cope with them.6 He lists seven types of difficult people.7 He calls all of the first three types hostile-aggressive: they are "Sherman tanks," "snipers," and "exploders." The Sherman tanks are convinced of their ideas and dominate meetings by discounting out of hand the suggestions of others. They present their own ideas as the only rational, workable thing for the community or committee to adopt. They refer to other approaches as "stupid," a "waste of time," or "ridicu-lous." Sammon suggests meeting the Sherman tanks with calm strength. When the Sherman tanks begin to roll over a meet-ing, the chair should let them go on for a while but then abruptly intervene: "Stop right there; we have heard your objections; now we need valuable input from others." Sherman tanks will most likely add a few new objections until the chair or the presenter interrupts: "We will be covering those objections and discussing them as the meeting goes on!" Participants, present-ers, and leaders need to stand up for themselves against the Sherman tanks, clearly explaining their positions, not backing down, but avoiding a fight. Hostile-aggres-sive individuals almost always "win" in a fight, but the Sherman tanks usually respect such strength. They often do have valid insights that the community can benefit from; it is their ways of behaving that make it hard for the community to consider their input fairly. "Snipers" will make remarks that are just barely audible to the person being targeted. The remarks are Review for Religious biting and sarcastic, and the victim is supposed to laugh them off. These are different fr

Issue 36.3 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edtted by faculty members of St Lores University, the editorial 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 © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May 1977 Volume 36 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS; 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 I~OR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; 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. Nomadic Love Rita Bernard Walton, S.S,J. Sister Rita Bernard resides at the Corpus Christi Convent; Sumneytown Pike and Supplee Rd.; Lansdale, PA 19446. :: Fpr centuries men have responded to a voice, a formless, faceless, nameless voice, a voice that pierced the inner depths like a fiery sword saying: "Come and see" (see Jn 1:35-51). To come and see is to come into Jesus, and to respond to the call is only to hear it repeated over, again and again, to _come deeper into Jesus. It means a lifetime of coming and a lifetime of seeing as one .surprise of.love follows another:in living in Jesus. The heart hears the silent language of Jesus' love that calls for acceptance. 'The acceptance of his love entails ac-cepting all the Lover is and~ all he gives. He gives himself in sacrament, in word,, in life. He reveals himself slowly with each love-touch and fills the soul with wonder at the awesome burden with which he impregnates it. ~In this prayer of love one is. urged to stand firm, to persevere in the gift of.,love in the sense that St. Paul urged the Thessalonians to stand firm: ,"Stand firm, then, brothers, and keep the traditions that we taught y0,u, whether by word of mouth or by letter" (2 Th 2: 15). "Standing firm" is a recognition of having been chosen, loved, formed and hollowed. It is a 'recognition of one's emptiness and fullness in Christ Jesus. To "stand firm" is to accept further the responsibility to love and be loved;~to be known and to,know the God who is. "Standing firm" is to be used, used as a reed on which he plays his tune. ~ Coming deep into this love with Jesus re~uires a lea.ring behind of all ~hat ,is self and, in some way, living within the heart the life of a nomad by abandoning oneself to the purpose~ of the Lord in an emptiness of spirit-- being a nomad without a desert other than the desert of life itself. This nomad 337 338 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 life whets the appetite for the fullness of the kingdom, a life fully embraced. The nomad life is a living in joy, a living wholly in the now. This great love renders one powerless and defenseless and 'one. feels the pain of the rendering. Such powerlessness allows God to be G6d, bring-ing to the lips a prayer for an increase of faith which enkindles hope and which builds further the great fire of love. In this love-prayer, the~desire to pray and prayer itself are planted in the heart of one's being by the God of ¯ love. As the desire is nurtured, the heart of one's being grows and ~.the cycle of life in prayer develops. It is recognized as the Lord's gift. This writer invites the reader at this point to place himself or herself in the sandals of the nomad and let the following speak directl3)' td you. Come and see, Nomad. The nomad carries little. The nomadic lover carries little, too, for this lover must pass through love's gate as through the eye of the needle, free of encumbrances and the excess baggage of self-love. As nomadic lover you go through the doorway of Jesus as yourself~ as a real person. You go with Jesus' to go through Jesus into Jesus more deeply,, realizing so de.eply that Jesus is in you filling you with so much love. Loving is what living is all about. Living the love of Jesus is allowing the fruit of hislove to be'~plucked while it is ripe and rich. Following Jesus in nomadic love leads you to a still point. A still .point is a further death to self. Freed of the baggage and clutter of ~elf-will, hands are emptied to embrace the Will of the Father, the Cross of-Jesus, the Gifts of the Spirit. This still point is an intense grace of being~known, and being filled with an unknown kind of knowing God in his Oneness and Trinity of Persons. Reaching, or being brought to this still point of love is like passing through the turmoil of a storm and no longer being in .the path of its destruction, but aware of it and aware of being held at the center of calm only by his grace. It is an experience of an overwhelming sense .of quiet joy where your being sings an endless, wordless song of silent praise. Nomadic love extends you and develops all the facets of yourself, and then it changes you. You become a new self with all the old facets"refined. 'You come to a point where you hardly know yourself, and yet you do, more deeply than you did before. If the Beloved allows you to see yours.df"vfith his eyes you see a sight of beauty, surprising beauty. What you see is so grace-laden and love-filled that your heart responds again in silen(, ioyful song to the love and the Lover who has made you this way. You know that all this grace and beauty are his gift to your creature-self. It is yours to 'rejoic( in, to use and to give away~ When you return to your owns, seeing, you find you are the same, but not the same. You have been held b~y Love unaware of space and time and you somehow know that you hold a inystery~ and are held by Mystery. The nomadic lover has thus rested in th~ sweet oasis of love. ' Soon, however, the nomad is stirred from the oasis-rest .by th~ silent Nomadic Love / 339 voice the heart has come to know. "Rise, cla~p my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven," by Francis Thompson). "Yes" becomes the word on your lips and the journey continues. Now the desert stretches dry ahead and its night settles in like a winter season. The fruit and the comfort and rest of an oasis are not in sight, but the memory of them warms your heart. All is silent within and without, and the nomad must stand firm in the silence as would a silent sentinal. The treasure of love must be guarded within the heart. As nomadic lover in the desert night you know, you be-lieve~ you trust in the touchless Lover who is with you, who encircles you with his love. A nomadic lover prays: I cannot walk, my Love, I cannot walk alone. I must be led, or carried. I cannot trust myself, my own sense of direction. I must let myself be lost as it were, with no map or seeable route on this journey in faith and trust and love with You. My Love, I depend solely on You and Your guidance with no desire other than the desire to be Yours. You p!ace in shadow all that has been familiar during this journey with You. The oasi~ of Your gifts and consolaiions is lost ¯ in the darkness of this desert night in order to test my love for You alone. My~ Love, I ask for the grace of receptivity. Open me to the greatness of desiring You . for Yourself alone. ".Rise, clasp my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven"). So, once again Nomad, you hear yourself asked to "come and see" mindful you are nomad by invitation; that the journey is a gift and that you do not "stir love until its appo~inted time" (Song of Songs 2:7). Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? Marie Emmanuel, S.C. Sister Marie Emmanuel, though retired otficially, icontinues to exercise an extensive apostolate through her writings. She resides at Mount St. Joseph, OH 4505.1. No writer can speak from her heart unless wha( she says is consciously directed to a well-defined group of readers. Even a g!ance at the topic sentences of the following paragraphs, for example, would indicate that this article would "turn off" religious caught up in the urgencies' of seeking self-fulfillment, of 'being recognized as a person, of securing independence, and of embracing a life-style which has much more in common with that of a career girl or married woman than with that of the traditional religious of ten or fifteen years ago. And these same pages would probably read like something from outer space to the few fortunate religious in whose com-munities wholesome, holy religious life has somehow managed to survive experimentation. The vast majority of American sisters, however, belong to neither of these groups. They are the typical religious of our decade the thoiasands who look with aching hearts on what mistaken attempts at renewal (a renewal too often not rooted in a primary interest in the things of God!) have done and are doing to their corrimunities, and to religious life itself as they can see it. Their cause is seldom taken up by the religious press or cham-pioned by speakers; yet they are the ones who are holding the line for Christ. They know what their Lord was asking of them when he called them to their community--and they know what they gave. him on their vow day. Integrity permits them to dilute neither his divine requests nor their giving. These are the religious who must be assured that their questioning is being heard, that their Calvary is understood, and that, if they have but faith, their fears for religious life itself will be quieted by the same dear 340 Grassroots Sisters Today:~ Calvary People? Anawim? / 341 Christ who answered the frightened apostles in the tempest-tossed boat on Galilee: "O ye of little faith, why do you doubt?" Not even the hardiest can deny, of course, that hurricanes have been buffeting religious life for a decade or more, and that unprecedented winds and waves have sadly battered the bark of those who follow the evangelical counsels. There is no question here of the exaggerated fears of timid souls. Too many facts corroborate 'the ~threats, too many experiences bolster appre-hension. All one need do to be convincedis read, watch and listen. " See whathas happened in our day to the observance of poverty and obedience! And often not even chastity survives at least not envisioned as an espousal relationship with Christ, a concept which, iust a short time ago, was. generally accepted as basic to the vow. Silence no more has a place in most Interim Directives; prayer has become largely a completely personal matter, with sometimes not even the offi~ze or rosary said in com-mon; and the whole concept of community living is under attack. One does not have to be a seer to be aware that in some congregations goals, aposto- ,lares, and life-style have been so revolutionized that even the most recent of founders would be hard put to recognize their own! Administrators of certain large American communities, for example, seeing membership plummeting and the median age rapidly rising, have °already experimented with the idea of extending membership to anyone who wishes to live with the sisters, "regardless of sex, religious affiliation or marital status." In some religious houses such~ extended membership is already an accepted fact. At a meeting of formation personnel late in 1975, one young director told her audience (and was immediately quoted in metro-politan and diocesan newspapers) that her community had "already opened its doors to such .applicants, among them a married woman, a divorcee, and a woman whose husband is in Europe." These people, she assured her hearers, "share the life and home of the sisters and are regarded as mem-bers, not as guests; employees or volunteers." In order to supplement recruitment, other congregations have accepted girls who came with the avowed intention of staying just for a year or two, although canon law has stipulated that candidates may not enter on a temporary basis, that they must have the iiatention of remaining or at least the hope of determining their permanent vocation by honest trial. We hear,. too, of young religious who, though they may have entered with the inten-tion of remaining, are now reluctant to maki~ any permanent commitment and are being permitted to stay on indefinitely, despite canonical strictures, merely making temporary "promises" over and over. Yet though membership is being supplemented in such unorthodox ways, genuine religious vocations in America have dwindled to almost nothing. Vineyards entrusted to us by the Church are abandoned for works of our own choosing; conx;ents stand empty in the midst of fields white for the harvest, and the tragic exodus of professed sisters "back to the world" con- 342 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 tinues, though God knows that some motherhouses have few, except the aged, left. A further tragedy lies in the fact that those who remain tend to fall into groups so diverse in their reactions to experimentation that the attainment of consensus in basic areas becomes impossible. There are the sisters of all persuasions, liberal and conservative, who are content with the status quo as they meet it; there are the crusader.s, dissatisfied with the ."inadequacy" of experimentation as they see ,it initiated, and dedicated to revamping re-ligious life now to conform to what they consider relevant to today's world. And then there is the army of ordinary sisters down at the grassroots who have suffered shock after shock as they were subjected to innovations (allegedly designed to make them more relevant, more self-fulfilled, and more libera.ted, but which have a~:tually proven incompatible with their ideals of religious life) who are now openly seeking answers to the disturb-ing questions which haunt them. "What is going to become of religious life?" they ask in desperation akin to that of the apostles, when their small boat was. storm-tossed that night on Galilee. "Will,it someday be impossible in my community to live the life I v6wed? What will be left of religious life when all this experimen-tation is officially ended?" Before sisters consider the future of their own communities in the light of such questi0.ns, it is logical that a prognosis for religious~ life itself be attempted. Is it dying? Is it still relevant? A number of current books study the topic from various points of view, but the Vatican II Fathers .have already settled all doubts in ~this regard bY the place in the modern Church which they assigned to religious. A dying group would scarcely be commissioned, as religious were in the Constitution on the Church, to ,"stren.gthen the kingdom in soul~, and extend it to every clime." And who is relevant to our confused, anguished world if not those to whom the council, in the same document, entrusted the needy of that world? "Religious should carefully consider that through them, to believers and unbelievers alike, (he Church wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," decreed the Council Fathers. "Through them, Christ should be seen contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, healing the sick and maimed,, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent them." There is not one .sufferer among all those who throng our streets, or whose stories are blazoned in, the daily press or pictured on TV, who does not fit into one of the categories listed by the Council as being charges of today's religious. There is no human need, spiritual or temporal, which has not been confided to our charity in our own time by Holy Mother Church herself. Therein lies our blueprint of relevance. Father Thomas iDubay, contemporary writer on living the evangelical Grassroots Sisters Today." Calvary People? Anawim? / 343 counsels, states: "The religious life belongs inseparably to the Church's life and holiness . Periodically, in the history of the Church, someone is likely to prophesy the death of religious-life. Our day is no exception. Yet so closely bound up with evangelical perfection are consecrated virginity, voluntary poverty and ecclesial obedience, that to predict the disappearance of religious life is to assert the irrelevance of the gospel. The profession of the evangelical counsels may decline, through human weaknesses, but dis-appear it willnot.''~ Yet, notwithstanding such assurances, sisters confide that try as they will to tell themsel~,es that all will be right, they cannot shut their eyes~to what is happening in many communities. "Is it unreasonable," they ask, "to wonder how I can trust, when I know how convent walls have tumbled down since the '60's, destroyed not by enemies of the Church but by con-secrated women who are .apparently casting aside the very.essentials of religious life so as to grasp the best of two vocations without assuming the responsibilities of either? How can I"even hope that I will always be a nun, when I see congregations once flourishing and fervent actually falling apart or so revolutionized as to be unrecognizable?" Of course, there are no pat answers, as there are no pat answers for other questions'which vex us today. But Peter and his companions were expert sailors, and they had seen other vessels go down in squalls on Galilee like the one they were battling. Yet Christ rebuked them that night for their lack of faith when they were apprehensive. He did not tell them how to ride out the storm, he gave them no practical directives. But he did reassure them. "Fear not!" he said. And he did calm the winds and the buffeting waves, and bring his friends Safe to.shore. Suppbse their boat had sunk in the storm. Can we doubt that our Lord would have saved his 6wn; so that they still might, become the Spirit-driven anawim who were to establish his Church? That should tell us something! And there are many other gospel stories.~which'can set our troubled hearts at rest. This is a goodtime to remember~Bethany, for example; we who are frightened by what the future may hold have Christ's own word that our "best part"-~will never be taken away from us. In,another passage he gives us his solemn assurance that he will be with us always, and that whatever we ask in.prayer will be given us;, even to" feats like moving mountains! He reminds us that we did not choose him; it was he who called us. Dare we insinuate that-he was trifling with our hearts in making that invitation on our vow day? No, the circmfistances surrounding our aposto-lates may indeed be drastically altered, but our consecration to Christ no one no one--can take from us! Right now many mature religious stand onCalvary. We try to assure ourselves, perhaps, that faith and hope demi~nd that we look forward to a 1Ecclesial Women, by Thomas Dubay, 'S.M. (New York: Alba House, 1970). 344 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 glorious Easter, when resurrection joy and peace will fill our hearts again. That Easter will come. But ~hould we begin to face the possibility that we, personally, may never see its glad dawning? Maybe our little boat won't survive this. tempest! What if our community becomes so debilitated or so revolutionized that it no longer is our.community? Do we love Christ so much that we can offer ourselves, in that event, to become his anawim, the remnant beloved by God, who will somehow continue to carry on his work in and for a world which hungers for him while it rejects him? That may well be what he is asking of us now. If this should happen and we find our 'institutes rapidly losing all re-semblance to the dream of evangelical perfection which God gave our founders and to which he called us, we can find comfort, first of all, in knowing that religious life, itself will never die. That is where faith and hope lead us today. Isn't that, perhaps, where they leave many of.us, too? Let's admit it: we, at least we sisters in America, may well be Calvary-people all our lives. But .wasn't that what our Lord was? The shadow of the Cross touched everything he looked on, and Easter came only after the final agony of the crucifixion. "Fear not.t" Our Lord is saying to us. Even though this congregation or that is shaken, religious life will always flower somewhere in the Church, and no sister will ever be dispensed ]rom perpetual vows unles~ she herselI .has chosen, in some way, to cancel her commitment to the God who loves her with an everlasting love. 'We must remember that when things look black, when maybe even our own beloved community may seem'to be racing toward disaster.~, We must hang onto the fact, too, that "retreat masters and others in a position to see and judge are finding rainbows arcing over motherhouses here and there, where experimentation has not only. been lived through but is reaping a golden harvest of renewal. True, such blessed communities doubtless still have their respective cordons of dissidents unhappy because changes haven't been radical enough, but interested now in the ordination of women, in 'political jobs~ or~ in being, vocal on controversial theological questions. Their current involvement in topics beyond the jurisdiction of their communities leaves the body of the, membership free to yield. ;to the Spirit, and to concentrate on intensive, broadly-varying spiritual programs, which one priest-director tells me are proving "an astonishing purification, a genuine spiritual renewal, and a happy return to the ideals of the foun-ders" of several communities with whom he is in contact. How heartened many grassroots sisters should be by rumors of such rainbows, which indicate that for some religious at least, the storm is over for the time and the Paschal Sun is shining! There are communities, too, which have never lost their balance, but which, despite growing pressures, have managed to adhere t,o their self-definition and to maintain the life of the counsels as their founders would Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? / 345 have it lived at present. They are the ones (believe it or not!) who are be-ing sought out by young women who want just what these communities will give them. The same retreat master I quoted before confided that one such community with which he works "is swimming with postulants and novices, bright and lively young things who enter precisely because of the habit; who are genuinely (if youthfully) in earnest about learning the spirit of their congregation and (and through) the spirit of their founder." So even if, in our corner of the world, the eclipse still leaves us groping in dark and cold, we can rejoice that somewhere the sun is shining again on happy, holy novitiates and on burgeoning religious life. We can rejoice, too, that our way of-life is a good way; despite the odds against us, we do contribute to the holiness of the Church! And it is a relevant way. Millions of people contact God today because sisters still live and work among them. So if our particular corner of the vineyard is languishing, we must simply put our hand into the hand of Christ and trust him to use us as he will. Through an ordeal.like this, our consciences should reassureus that we are not disloyal because we can foresee local debacles resulting from ill-ad-vised changes in the very basics of~religious life. As mature religious we can-not help but be aware that congregations which cut themselves free from their moorings an the Church and dispose of authority, vows, silence, community prayer and the common life with fine, dispatch, are no longer offering their members the type of life the.y vowed to follow: There is no disloyalty here. No, it is love for the life to which Christ calls us that prompts us to challenge attemis°ts at renewal which have gotten out of hand. The pro~ing questions one hears now on all 'sides should alert the powers that be to the fact that definitely all is not well. Before it is too late, those influential in community affairs throughout the country should take inventory to see wfiether religious, life, as they are manipulating it, can flourish and bear the fruit God expects. Only a prayerful, serious evaluation by those supposedly in authority can dete~rmine for any congregation whether experimentation is sanctifying its members or secularizing them, meeting the needs of their assigned apostolates or merely working toward human goals or personal self-fulfillment. That some groups will not see the necessity for such reconsideration is a sad commentary on the problem. It is good, therefore, that individual sigters are not closing their eyes to what is being done, that we at last are asking serious qui~stions and seeking honest answers. We are not discountenancing faith and hope when we admit that we think it possible that our partiqular vineyards may someday lie in ruins. Rather, our faith and hope could never be fairer .than when we watch our dear garden-places transformed into alien desert and yet hold fast to Christ, confidefit of his love, ready to take up our interrupted apos-tolat~ wherever he wants us to be and to do whatever he may send us to do, even if that is just to suffer and pray for the harvest which we may no longer have an opportunity to plant or gather in. Symbols.'. Signs. and the Times Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is engaged in development work. curriculum planning and public relations at Cornelia Connelly High School; 2323 W. Broadway; A~aheim, CA 92804. _~er degree is in the field of sociology. Technically speaking,' says S. R. Wilson, signs are not symbols. Signs are perceptible m~inifes~ations which point to a condition present or to come because they flow from the ultihaate reality underlying the sign. In this sense signs are revelatory because the natural objects involved are ]as in-trinsic~ illy related to the ~:eality underneath as the smell of an onion is to the onion itself. For example, hot forehe'ad, weakness, perspiration and chills signify fever. Signs, in thig sense, cross cultural barriers of language and fl~ish essentially the identical message-content to all who can read the signs. At some point in history the acctimulated wisdom of a l~eople unravels the mystery behind the sign and passes on the same m.essage from generation to generation. Thus signs are stable in content because that which we~ per-ceive bears an unalterable and peculiar relationship to the reality wtii~zh is present or coming to be. Symbols are different. They are arbitrary things which are invested with 1Sociologists, in developing the implications of symbolic interaction, have made some distinctions between sign and symbol that differ markedly from the'more traditional scholastic terminology contrasting natural and conventional signs. For example, Berger and Luckmann in The Social Construction o! Reality speak.of "detachability" as a characteristic of all signs and sign systems while symbols are any significative themes achieving maximum detachability by reason of their being located in one sphere of reality but referring to ahother. A far simpler presentation by S R. Wilson has generated a line of thought that can be applied to the contemporary religious scene with some profit for us if we are willing to follow up his line of thought"with some applications made on our own. 346 Symbols. Signs . . . and the Times / 347 a tempbrary message by consensus of the group which employs the symbol. Symbols are the shorthand which capsulizes a larger"concept, perhaps an abstract one--the cryptography which presupposes that the users share the meaning so fully'that they can afford to reduce it to a kind of code word, that beStows brevity without sacrificing richness. There need not be any necessary connection between the choice of an object to act as symbol and the content of the message.Symbols are temporary: time-bound~ timely,, tied to. context so they lose their significance or are invested with new meanings in new times. How fickle symbols can be is well exemplified'by the quirk of fate that transmuted .Churchill's gallant V-for-victory hand salute into the peace symbol of the 1960's. Signs are natural, unequivocal, independent "of time and place an~l ¯ language, Symbols are culture;bound, subject to misinterpretation by the uninitiated and to re-interpretation by succeeding in-groups, long- or short, lived depending on the consistency of the ,sub-culture that employs them. Perhaps some reflection on this distinction, between sign and symbol can shed light, on:,one of the dilemmas facingreligious today. We religious have tried abruptly 'to change our symbol ~ystem and we find often enough that We have lost our sign value in the world., of today, We changed 9ur dress to relate more easily to the world of the ~twentieth century. Removing a barrier did not automatically create a sign 6f the Lord present among us. We chose the symbol system of modern womanhood .and sometimes found ourselves comfortably bunched .in with all the other .bananas. The public we served was not interpretifag our symbolic action as we meant it to be. And we are forced to recognize that the dress we donned and the veil we doffed were only symbol--not sign, not natural,.cross,cultural., unequivocaI expression of what .is or what is to come--:-only symbol, 9nly thingg subject tO misinterpretation, 'time-bbund even for us who made the gesture of changing the symbolmand ambivalent;~ even,~ to the ~degree. that not all religious~would agree on the what. and the why of the gesture. By and large our people are complimentary 'and comfortable with our new look, yet amid a growing congeniality we. have lost some of the eschatological sign value that should be ours. Why? I, Hazarding guesses is hazardous and it is;my guess that an understanding of signs and symbols can shed some light. If we understood how 'a society creates .a symbol, if we understood how a group learns toread a sign, .per-haps we could appreciate the impact of. context on communication. Accurate identification of the "things': we use to present ourselves depends on the context in which we use them. Think of ~ome "symbols" we have adopted in the last few years: There are religious who see denim as denoting fellow-ship with the poor, But with the escalation of the denim fashion' parade, to many people denim speaks of the radical chic, the young affluent who chooses to dress down, the professional would-be college kid revolting against .white shirts and starched,collars. To many, "fellowship" with a 348 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 "groovy" bunch in.~faded cut-offs has no religious connotations whats6ever. We want to say simplicity of life-style; they hear over-age college set gone "mod." Unwittingly, there is growing up a garbled version of the Fountain of Youth myth where what we wanted to hand on was the Good News about the Fountain of Living Waters which springs up in men of faith. Our~ sym-bols aren't bad; it's just that we exist in a cultural context which colors the interpretation of symbols "due to circumstances beyond our control . " We are talking about the fact that we can't control the whole configura-tion of life that put denim (or its equivalent) into a context in which it will be understood by those who see the same symbol system used to convey a different message. We human beings acting in concert unconsciously invest symbols with meaning 6nly in context. + can mean Christianity or + can mean add it all depends on what goes with it. It's the nature of symbol to be tied to other people's mentality. Let me" push the notion of symbols-in-context a bit further. In some ways symbols are .like bumper stickers~ That is, they are "one-liners", that punch out a limited message about one aspect of a question or point of view--concise, catchy, incontrovertible as far as they go. But when we are talking about the sign value of religious in their mission of revelation, we find that we aren't able to frame the essential message and crop off all the peripheral or block out all the other things we do and are. Hence, our symbols are never seen except in a broader context of the configuration of our whole lives. Let's think a little then about configuration. Have you ever pondered the variety of countenances .the Lord has fashioned out of the simple set of major elements such as two eyes, a nose, a mouth, some small degree of color in the eyes, some minor variations-- all within the magnitude of an inch or less--in the spacing of these ele-ments, the alignment of them, and so forth? Fantastic how .little he had to work with and yet how totally unique are the billions of faces that inhabit the universe! And all ~.because the particular configuration of similar ele-ments so alters the' finished product! How marvelous is the import of the configuration in which a single pair of blue eyes is set in defining the unique profile of a German lass as opposed to a California coed! Taken separately all the major elements of their countenances could be identical. Only the final configuration gives the identity to each as a unique person. Something like that is true of our symbol systems. When we changed our bleak habit woolens for blue denim or for fashionable fabrics and styles, we also re-arranged a thousand seemingly unrelated parts of the mosaic Called life-styles. Visits to hairdressers, pierced ears, cosmetics, jewelry, stereo sets in our rooms, guitars under our arms, weekends at the beach or skiing in the mountains, ten-speeds, dining out when pressures mount, happy hours and wine-and-cheese-get-togethers--all the places we went and the things we did in our new dress. And gradually we blended with the Every Woman in tune with the times--and lost any aura of the "otherness" of Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 349 the woman in touch with the Lord. It is frustrating and confusing since there is nothing wrorig with any of the items taken separately, nothing that could not serve as a ~,ehicle for inserting the message of the Lord into the modern context. Yet, unfortunately, the gap between intentions and outcome is real, if we'dare tell it as it is. So what can we do in such a dilemma? Retreat to our pre,Vatican II existence? . How dare we even consider such a move--we who have been called by. the Lord in his Church to seek ever new ways to bring his .same truth to our age? ~ . I believe that there are several lines of action open to us. First, and perhaps the easiest to admit, we must recognize.that a private symbol sys-tem whose true message is known only to ourselves is a useless tool for communication. Hence, in our recognition ~of the public nature of the sym-bols we choose to employ, we must be attentive to the feedback from those around us, the feedback that comes in the form of spoken criticism or spoken praise, and also the feedback that comes in the form of a vacuum-- the indication that we aren't, even noticed~ This isr not so easy since it implies that if we listen and respond'just to, those who catch the message, it might be we are only speaking to our in-group. Openness to criticism and willing-ness to. vary our approach is the on13~ way that will. make our knowledge of de facto social interpretation of symbols work for the good we yearn to. do. Apropo.s., algo, is the need for a discerning spirit that can ferret out the essence of a critical remark and that has no fear to dare to be different if the difference is where, it really: counts--difference, because our fundamental orientation even in choosing fashionable clothes, and so forth, is utterly other. For the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of those around me, for the sake of my apostolic effectiveness I choose to use the things I use; for ¯ their ability to extend my vital concerns outward, not just for their ability to enhance me. From .the apostolic point of view ~vhat my symbol system says to. those around rn"e is:more important than what it"says to me as long as"it is genuine. , A second direction in which to focus our attention is on the mutability (as w~ll as .f.allibility) of any~ symbol which derives from the other mean-ings conferred on the "things" we use or do by other people whose message differs from ours. '~We can always afford to bend and 'blend and experiment with our symbol system in order to keep it 'up-to-date. Indeed, we must be alert to those circumstances beyond our control which render any system obsolete or .misleading--changing customs, .changing values in some areas of life, changing vocabulary. Even semaiatics can' cause a loss of utility in a given form of expression. Knowing' the difference between what is essential and what is merely an arbitrary, ,though well-chosen, form of expression is an art capable of infusing life ,into the means we use to contact the world around us; The art of choosing wisely, rests largely on the nature of what we.try to signify. How can we speak to men of our God who is so utterly 350 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 other? What has holiness to say to a modern world? What can communicate spirit to flesh:and-blood men of today?. As men and nations,~scramble tO get, what words speak of giving.'? And what can emptying oneself to put:.on Christ say to empty men who have lost .their own identity? When thinking men unite to feed the world's hungry because 'the survival of all ultimately depends on the wise sharing of resources, how does one say that enlightened self'interest isn't enough? For a task of this magnitude, perhaps symbol .is the wrong tool. Maybe we can't rely~on a form of "shorthand" for all that the Christian message means to us. Perhaps we have to strive; to explicate our message--impress it more fullythrough expressions revelatory, :flo~ving from the essential reality of life in Christ. Earlier we spoke of the smell of an onion as peculiar to the. reality that is the onion. Substitute perfume to the rose if you prefer, but that is just how specific our expression should be to what 'it is we're trying to communicate! Perhaps sign is called for-- natural, unequivocal, universal harbinger of 'what is or what is to come. Sin~:e whatever we do can be so easily mis-read by a generation that rarely reflects deeply, our?language" (spoken, body, symbol) must be one that is unequivocal, timelessly true, inextricably bound up with the nature of what we communicate. Our "language" must be sign of what is or what is to come. We can only hope to sign the Lord to the world if we ourselves can be the living revelation of~God present among us, actuating what we are. When we so live in the presence of God that his thoughts have become ours, his con-cerns, outs, we can hope that the vitality of his life in us will speak to"men of Someone else, just as Jesus invariably led people beyond himself to ". the~Father who sent me; the Father himself loves you. ; if you knew me you would know the Father also . . . the words I speak are not mine but the Father's; . as my F~'ther sent me so I also . ; I do always what the Father command~ . . . ; I must be about my Father'S' business~. ; I will ask the Father and he will send you the Paraclete . . . ; whatever you ask for in my name that I will do so that the Father may be glorified in the Son . , . ; the world must: be brought to know .that I love the Father. ; I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from myFather." It was when Jesus said. to his own, "I came from the Father,and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the ,Father," that his men replied at long last, "Now you are: speaking clearly . because of this we believe that you came from God.,." (Jn 16:28-31.). Hardly can we expect to be heard by our world tif we are less specific! Hardly do we ~dare to be so specifi!! Yet. I doubt that there is one of us who has,not in prayer thrilled to the vocation that is ours and marveled that God should choose to use us as a means of revealing and witnessing to his presence in the world. We believe--and yet . We shall never be able to offer our people more than fickle symbols until it becomes "natural" for us to perceive and Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 351 to speak of ourselves as signs that God is present and coming~ Our work for the poor may appear to be just the fad of generous adolescence or neo-humanism in action unless we are in fact coming from God and drawing our people to God. Angry activists can demand' prison reform as effectively as we and still remain atheists'. To what am I signing on the picket lines or in the classroom? Many good men grow whole from their repulsion over human suffering. Ft. George Aschenbrenner, in his article, "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father" (REviEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jan., i975), spoke of the healing ministry of Jesus as springing from his vision of the holiness of God. So, too, for us philanthropy is not enough, It is significant that a woman of~ our times renown for her ministry of healing has had her story told to the world under the title, Something Beauti[ul for God. Mother Theresa undoubtedly comes to her poor as one sent ~by God to lead them on to him. Her meaning is unequivocal, its con-tent crosses language barriers and surmounts limitations of time and place. She is indeed a signto all of.the presence of God in his creation. But how was she different? She adapted the dress and the practices of religious life to the customs of India; so have we striven to meet America in the twentieth century. What more is there to it? . ' Perhaps it isosomehow or other connected with her approach to the first major work that .she undertook: her concern for the dying, the terminally ill; the cases that most of the hospitals there would not accept today be-cause there is nothing-that can be gained from medical treatment, there is no hope of recovery: . . . There is an element in her preoccupation with the dying that shouts aloud that dying is not the end, that even a dying man is worthy of respect and love and concern. Hers was an attitude-in-action which pointed a reality present in he~r and pre~sent in her world of the dying that could only mean that death~was not what it seemed to be to the masses who passed by the dying beggar in the streets. The reality alive in the center of her being revealed itself in act and attitude peculiar to those who know the God and Father of Jesus Christ. She was indeed a sign of God present in his world. Mother Theresa shows~us that it is possibleto be a sign in the world. What she stands,.for speaks internationally of humanity's ability, to stand 'before the experience of the Holy. Even more exciting, what she is and has become for our age is the revelation~that a person~who is sign doesn't sim-ply point out statically something that has .happened to her or him but rather that such a sign enables the beholder to experience the Holy for him'- self. It not only'allows man to~'think about God, but it activates an en-counter between God ands.the beholder. Our interpretation of the sign be-comes experiential, not simply intuitional or cognitive. I believe that the authentic Christian witness offered by Mother Theresa and her co-workers demonstrates, by the grace of God, the essential ele-ments of signs in an eminent degree. The grace which incorporates one into 352 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 the very life of Jesus enables a human life to be a natural revelation of the supernatural reality that is present and coming: Man's. experience of the Holy as it radiates through, the person and personality of another chal-lenges with the unequivocal demand to "take off your shoes" in ~ome fashion. The call to respond is universal, that is, it °cries out to hearts of men of every tongue, time or religious .traditi0n---assuming their hearts have been initiated into the mystery of God. And there is nothing in the configura-tion of his life~style to confuse or to cloud or to bury the sign under a bushel basket. ': We know that the same grace of God confers p6tential sign value on us all, even beyond the extent.to which we surrender to its gentle usurpation of our natural self. We may need to study our lives to perceive the dynamic of their configuration. We can scrutinize what we do with our time,, what we talk about, what we expend our energies on, what delights us, what we do with our free time, what .people we interact With most often--~and why. What do people ,bring to us as topics of conversation and as cause for concern? Not just what are the ice-breakers, but what are~ the substantive issues? Or .are there any substantive issues?,, Is it just fashion~talk, hair styles, and where are the best sales, what restaurants do we like, what about the latest recording artists, what team will win the World Series, what shows are worth seeing, what books are topping the Best Sellers lists? As well.educated women and well-rounded persons, we ought to be capable and to be intrigued .by exploring all facets of the contemporary scene.Yet there is incumbent upon us always the urgency of the prophet: A voice commands: Cry! and 1 answered, "What shall I cry?. Shout with a loud voice, joyful messenger . Shout without fear, "Here is your God." (Is 40:6-9) If we spend a day without ever mentioning our God to our world; if we: converse wisely about everything else but not about the Cent6r of our lives; if for a day, and days and a day, we apply psychology and economics and political :science and medicine and pedagogy in the. healing of hearts and the enabling of those striving to break out of bondage of any sort, it well may be that we present ourselves as professional personswho can live without any practical application of our religious profession. Then it is un-derstandable that the totality of the configuration of our daily lives obscures the sign and justifies our world's propensity for reading us according to the symbol system in vogue where we are. Our anomaly gtems not from our doing anything wrong and not from our not doing anything .at all, but just from the fact that our peculiar blend of actions~and attitudes islso familiar to our people that we fail to communicate the otherness of God. ~Where Jesus is the song sung softly all day long in the hearts of his own who are called to witness to him in this day and age, the most appropriate Symbols . . . Signs .,°and the~ Times / 353 exhortation might be "Preach what you practice." In terms of this article that could be translated to mean, "Find the ways--the signs, the symbols, the. emphases in the particular blend of attitudes and activities that are our life--(to say we come) from an inner experience of the God who is present and who continuously is coming." In this sign surely we shall conquer! NoW Available, As: A Reprint,, Colloquy of God with a Soul That Truly Seeks Him ,Address: Price: ~;.30 per opy,~ 161us post~ige.' Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand '~ St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Reflections on Vowed Living1 Claire Brissette, S,S.Ch. Sister Claire. a graduate of the Center for the Study of Spirituality at the Institute of Man, Duquesne University, is engaged in ongoing formation work in her province, working with sisters primarily at the local community level. She resides at 297 Arnold St.; Wrentham. MA 02093. More than a decade ago, the Church, speaking officially through the Vatican Council, invited and challenged religious throughout the world to re-evaluate their institutional structures and to re-examine their~ lives in light of gospel values and the spirit of their founders. For most congregations and most religious men and women, the spiri~t of Vatican II soon became crystallized in the phrase "renew and°adapt." During the years immediately following the council, we opened the windows of our lives and hearts to let in the fresh air and warm sunshine of renewal chapters', of .'revised Acts of the Chapter, of experiments in life-style~ community living, apostolate and forms of prayer. We questioned the structures and values of religious liv-- ing all in a sincer~ effort to ~:espond to the dictates of Vatican II. Through- 1This article is an integration of personal reflections from various sources. In listing these sources, it is difficult to distinguish Where their thought ends and where mine-begins. I wish to acknowledge my gratitude to each of these authors and speakers for their insight which fias stimulated my own integrative reflection. Besides the publica-t'ions listed in the bibliography, the following workshops have also influenced the con-tents of this article: "The Life of the Counsels" given by Thomas Walsh, S.J. and ~Bernadette Casey, R.S.M. at the Diocesan Spiritual Life Center in Pawtucket, RI on Feb. 28-29, 1976; "Fashioning the Future,of Vowed Commitment" a ten day workshop given at Mt. Augustine, Staten Island, NY, during which nine nationally known speak-ers, m turn, provided input on a specific vow. Appreciation also goes to Susah Muto, Assistant Director of the Institute of Man,, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, for her helpful suggestions regarding the final draft, Of th~is a~rt!cle. 354 Reflections on 'Vowed Living / 355 Out this period of painful searching, we sought to discover the Spirit of the Lord guiding us through the confusion and turmoil of the~renewal. In more recent years, as~the initial turmoil has begun to subside, we have found ourselves facing and grappling with one of the deeper issues of the renewal, the meaning of our vows. Because of the :legalism that charac-terized our pre-Vatican II way of life, the meaning and living out of our. v6ws was often limited to external structures and rules. As many of these were put aside, and greater emphasis was placed on personal fulfillment and community living, poverty, celibacy and obedienc( seemed to fade into the background. We were no longer certain of (heir meaning_nor of their relevance forpost-Vatican religious life:' As we begin to take a new look at the meaning of our vowed consecration, the living of our vows is gradually emerging as the concrete expression of a personal love relationship with the Lord. In reflecting upon vowed living, 1 would like to elaborate upon the meaning of our love relationship with God, as well as on the meaning of each vow in light' of this love. Vowed Living: A Relationship of Love: A clue to the inner attitude of love which lies at the heart of our vowed living, may be found in the book of the Prophet Jeremiah:Experiencing an inner crisis, Jeremiah speaks of God rather boldly and directly, as he says, "You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger" (Jr 20::7). Perhaps oi, too, living a way of life that seems absurd to our superficial world, .can address these same words to God. I can look back into my life, and perhaps remem-ber the moment I was seduced by God, the moment I felt the closeness of his presence and love in my' life, and with my whole being,, responded '~yes" to his invitation of loveTIt was a total "yes," one that would plunge me .deeply into ~n intimate sharing in the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus, pone that would demand a constantly renewed surrender Of my whole self to his hidden designs upon my life. T0,seduce and to be seduced implies a love so deep and,~so strong that it enables lovers,to move beyond the externals of looks and ways, to touch one another's hearts. In thecase of God and,myself, a human creature, I have been ocaugh~up in the' infinite love of a God for me, and.,of my total love for my God. For some mysterious reason beyond my .limited compre-hension, God has fallen in love with me; I, in turn, have responded to his love. Our love for one another is not passing or temporary. Nor is it a senti-mental love. Rather, it is a love that has been sealed in the total consecrar tion of my entire being to him. It is a love that has changed radically the ¢ '-'For a more complete and di~tailed reflection on the love-relationship aspect of the vows, see Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spikit (Washington. DC: Corpus Publica-tions, 1968), pp. 71-163. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 course of my life, a love so powerful that I, a human creature, have allowed myself to be seduced by a God who is Spirit. "You have overpowered me: you were the stronger." At the moment of my "yes" to God, I experienced the overwhelming reality rOf his love_for me. Caught up in the experience of such a love, I could respond only with love, accepting to follow him wherever he would lead me. In my enthusiasm, perhaps it seemed to me then that just about anything was possible:. For, in my weakness, he would be my strength. In moments of darkness, he would light 'the way. In the experience of my powerlessness, l~e,would sus-tain me with his~power. Iri moments of ,aloneness, he would be .present in the silent depths of my heart. Confident of his love for me, and relying on his strength and power, I could say "yes" to a way of life that seemed some-what out of the-ordinary. Many years, perhaps; have passed.since the d~y of my love-filled "yes" to my Lord. Since that day, I have tasted the joys of my yes, as wel! as its sorrows and disappointments. I have also felt the weight of the cross, as well as the new and deeper life that has emerged from its pain. At times, also, I have perhaps doubted my Lord, for he seemed absent when I needed him most. And my flame of faith and love seemed on the verge of being extinguished. Through the persons who have entered my life, as well as through the various situations and events that have constituted my sacred journey with my Lord, my love has been tried and tested.In his love for me, my God~ has attempted to deepen and mellow my Iove~ for him. Each day, he continues to .purify my love, to shape and mold me, making me ever more precious in his. sight. Have I let myself surrender to his mysteri-ous ways of love in my life? As I reflect upon my love-relationship with my Lord, I need to realiz6 that as a human person, I am flesh and blood, limited by time and space as well as by my very nature. I can live out this love relationship only in a way that is possible for me, given who I am as a person, and~the concrete situation in which my Lord h~is placed me. He has probed me and has known me even before I.was knit in my mother's womb (see Ps 139). He knows better than I do what are my limits and abilities.,His love demands no more than what is possible for the human person I am. He is well aware that I cannot deny my human nature or my human needs. I can only tran-scend my needs in and through the experience.of his love for me and of mine for him. I also need to keep in mind that my love relationship with God, sealed on the day of .my religious consecration, deepens and,mellows over a life-time; as does the love of a married couple. I need to respect the present level of my relationship with him; while remain, ing open each day to concrete possibilities for deepening that love. Within the context of this love relationship between my Lord and me, it becomes possible to reflect on the lived meaning of our vows. For, if we consider vowed living only on the human level, we risk becoming enmeshed Relqections. on Vowed Living / 357 in such thinking as "My human needs are repressed." Or, "Human fulfill-ment is impossible." Or again~ "This way: of life doesn't make sense?' No, it doesn't make any sense at all, if we limit our vowed living to the nar-rowness of human logic and understanding. For God's ways are not ours, and what seems wise in the eyes of men is foolishness to God. Consequently, I need to take the leap of faith into the horizon of my love relationship with my Lord in order to grasp something of the spiritual meaning of vowed living. Consecrated Celibacy:' During a recent hospitalization, I was, to some extent, an "object of curiosity" for my roommate. She questioned me at length about my~life-style and work. But what puzzled her most was my celibate commitment: She .seemed unable to grasp why any+ne would want to make stich a com-mitment. "Whatever made you do it? .How can you live that way?" she often asked; For her, a celibate way of, life seemed .almost unthinkable. And yet, before she left the hospital, she very spontaneously admitted that she had grown to feel comfortable with me, remarking that I was "OK." The attitude of my new-found friend regarding celibacy reflects the thinking of a culture which extols sexual pleasure andgratification. We need only.listen to TV commercials, look at paperback racks in the local book-stores, or glance through the newspaper movie listings to become aware of the sexual orientation of our culture, Or, we need only listdn to teenagers speak of sexuality to realize that sexual morality has changed drastically in recent years. Within this cultural context, celibacy is frowned upon and looked down upon as an impossible and repressive way of life because for many, sexual pleasure and gratification have, to some extent, taken on an absolute character. Sexuality and sexual pleasure in themselves are sacred values, willed .by God from the time of creation. Simply.sacrificing these values in. and for itself for no deeper value, does indeed lead to a repressive way of life. How-ever, viewed within the context of one's personal love-relationship with God, celibate living'takes on deeper meaning and dynamism. As my Lord becomes central in my life, he becomes the hidden trea-sure and the pearl of great price for whom I am willing to give. my whole life, all that I 'am and all that I have. As Paul tells us: aln The Vowed Li/e, va~ Kaam maintains that the attitudes of celibacy, poverty and obedience comprise the fundamental threefoldO path of human and spiritual unfolding. He sees these human attitudes already foreshadowed in the highest forms of animal life. All human persons, regardless of their life form, are called to live out these attitudes according to the specific demands of their concrete life situation. Vowed relig!ous, he says, are called to be living witnesses for the threefold path of self-unfolding. They profess to find the beginning and end of this threefold presence in Gdd. See Adrian van Kaam~ The Vowed Life (Denville, NJ: Dimension Books, 1968), pp: 11-74. 35'8 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Those things I used to consider gain, I "liave now reappraised as loss in the light: of the surpassing knpwledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake, I have forfeited everything; I have accounted all els~ rubbish so that Christ may be'my wealth and 1 may bein him" (Ph 3:7-9). To us, who ifi recent years; have placed much emphasis on human develop-ment and on the person, these words sound strong and absolute, demand-ing and without compromise. They may even turn us off. Yet, the challenge of the gospel, of Christianiiy, of vowed living is that over a lifetime, Christ become so central in my life, so real for me, that my human life and human values take their rightful place in light of him. Thus, the human value of the pleasure of a needy self-centered love is transcended by my total love for my Lord. He becomes the.companion of.,.my life, him in whom I live and 'move and have my being. In the exp.erience of his love, I grow in love for the human person that I am, a person with human potential and short-comings; a person entrusted with talents that I am called to own as mine and use for his love; a per~son graced with the loving presence of Father, Son and Sl~irit through the'.:gift ef baptism; a person so much in love with my Lord, that I too can willingly boast of my weaknesses, for I know and believe that his power is living and active within me (see 2 Co 12:9). Within the experience 9f God's personal love for me, I grow in self-love and self-acceptance. At the same time, I grow in respect and accept-ance of other~, the sisters I live with, the. persons I work with, those who enter into my life each day-s-loving them as they are, and allowing them to be who they are, different from me. Gradually, over a life-time, his love for me and mine for him free.;me, to some extent, from the subtle manipula-tion of using 'others for my"self-interests, or of trying to make others into my own image, and likeness. My love relationship with my Lord opens me gradually to the beauty of the other lying beneath the surface of appear-ances and behavior. In his love, I learn to transcend my own needs,"and begin to let go of my narrow labeling tendencies so as to allow the other to unfold as the unique person he or she is. Thus my celibate love fosters life within myself as well as within others. My love relationship with Christ makes me aware of his love .for others also. I do not seek to cling in a needy way to others, for ultimately, they, too, belong to God. Rather, rooted in his loxie, my love for others calls forth what is best in them. Celibate love cannot beqived in a vacuum. The deep and real sacrifice of the human love of marr!age and of a family must not turn me in on myself in a sterile, self-centered way. Rather, my capacity for love and inti-macy must gradually blossom forth in a deepening of my love for God, in the warmth and intimacy of human friendship, in the tenderness,of a love that moves outward to those with whom I live, and reaches out daily to those persons the Eoi-d allows to enter into my life, my co-workers, my stu-dents, patients or clients. R~ither than repress my human capacity for love, then, celibate love, vowed fc~r the sake of the deeper love of my Lord, frees Reflections on Vowed Living / 359 me .to spread his love warmly, tenderly, and generously, simply by being who I am and living what I am--a celibate lover/ ~ Furthermore, because I am human flesh and blood with needs, desires and passions, I may experience, at various periods in my life, and'with varying intensity, the overwhelming need for sensual satisfaction and gratifi- ¯ cation. At other times, I may experience the deep suffering of human alone-ness and of loneliness. To deny or repress any of these feelings leads only to deeper pain and suffering. Rather, I need to face my feelings, own them as .mine, and 'realize that they too are part of my being human. During .these, painful mon~ents, a living faith in my Lord's love for me, often concretized' in the love and concern of a supportive community or of a friend, may be the only means of transcending my suffering. Each encounter with my hu-~ man poverty and vulnerability becomes a renewed opportunity for strength-ening my love for my Lord as well as for other persons he places on my path to comfort and support ~me. Gradually, over a life-time, I learn to turn to him, relying on his strength and his power, aware that "when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12: 10). Poverty.~ A sister friend of mine~recently graduated from college. Shortly before graduation, as she and her classmates were busily writing r6sum6s and look-ing into various job opportunities, she was approached by Rome of her friends. "What happens to your salary? Do you get.to keep the money you make?" ~ They - seemed somewhat puzzled as Sister explained to them that she turned her salary in to the community. "You mean ,you can't keep what you earn?" they replied with a kind of disbelief. Their attitude is characteris-tic of another trend within our culture. For many Americans, material wealth and possessions h~ve become important status symbols. We need only listen to various individuals speak of wanting a higher salary, of moving into a larger, more impressive home, or of buying a more expensive car, to realize that personal identity and prestige are often dependent upon one's income bracket. Everyone, rich and poor alike, is engaged in the struggle for survival, for more money and more possessions~ Part of the American dream consists in the belief that if.'one, earns enough money and. eventually works his way to the top, he will be blessed with perfect h.apptness. For many contempor~try Ameri-cans, acquiring wealth and~ possessions has become an ultimate value. 4Hinnebusch describes love as f611ows: "To Io~,e is to go out of myself as the center of interest, and to make'.the loved one the focus of attention." Paul Hinnebusch, Corn- " munity in the Lord (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1975), p. 23.~This is the kind of self-giving attitude fostered by g~nuine celibate love. ¯ ~For a more extensive development of poverty as total dependences on God, see Johannes B. Metz, Poverty o[ Spirit, trans. John Drury (Paramtis, NJ: Paulist Press, 1968). 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Within this competitive materialistic culture, men and women religious vow to live poverty--not for its own sake, for poverty in and for itself is not a value to be encouraged. Rather, religious poverty becomes meaning-ful only in and through one's personal love relationship with the Lord. As I grow in the ispiritual attitude of vowed poverty, I become increasingly aware that God's love for me is so deep and so complete that he emptied himself totally'~of his equality with God, and took the form of a slave, be-coming one ofous, subjecting himself to the limitations of the human, condi-tion (see Ph 2:5-11). Once again, I find myself caught up in the mystery of my Lord's love, a love that has seduced and captured me. Only if I am truly in love with my God, rich in him, can I, in turn, gradually empty my-self of myself ~nd of material possessions. As my love relationship with him becomes central in my life, the human value of possession becomes subordi-nated to this: love, and takes its rightful place in my life. In the strength of his love, I am able .to let go, gradually, of my possessive attitude, no longer al-lowing myself to cling possessively to things such as clothing, money, food, the latest fad, machines, the community car, my own ideas, opinions, views, and.more. I recognize the need for possessions: for money, clothing, food, machines, as my friend recognized the need to earn a salary. Likewise, I recognize the need to have certain ideas, views, and opinions. But because I care so much for God, I care also for this world--for our world. Our love for one another frees me to use.things respectfully rather than possessively, with the detached attitude that allows things to be as they are, rather than with the grasping, and clinging attitude of hoarding, or of the' stubborn attitude that "my way is the right one.'''~ As my love for my Lord grows, I gradually learn to see myself in my rightful place as a.limited human creature. Through the eyes of a living~ faith, I begin to realize that my views, my opinions, my ways of doing things may be good and right for me, but remain relative for other members of the community as well as for those with whom I work. As iI become rich in the one thing necessary, the love of my Lord, the self-emptying of poverty helps me to transcend my need to totalize and absolutize. In light of my Lord's living and active presence in the cultural-historical situation of the world, I ~radually begin to distance myself from my views, values and ma-terial possessions. They are important to me at this time in my life, but they also are relative, even for myself. For if I remain flexibly open to the un, folding of my life situation, the values, principles and opinions that seem absolute for me today may be less important to me in a few years. For ex-ample, perhaps a few years ago, I was on the "band wagon~' for total, open-ness in community. At the time, openness seemed to be ~an ultimate value for community living, With time and experience, I may have come to see that openness is indeed important, but every member of the community is '~van Kaam, The Vowed Li]e, pp. 176-186. Reflections on Vowed Living / 361 not capable of the same level of openness. Consequently, the value of open-ness which at one time seemed ultimate for me, has become modified by the emergence-for-me of the deeper value of respect for the other. Through a continual self-emptying attitude, I gradually learn to let go of my opinions and views in order to become more open to the Spirit of my Lord as he expresses himself through the differing values and opinions of others, as well as through the unfolding of history. My love for my Lord enables me to learn to flow with life, expecting little, and accepting whatever comes, as it comes, rather than rigidly and possessively trying to control my" life. For, in love, I gradually come to realize that ultimately, I do not control my life; it i.s in the hands of a Father-God who loves me dearly and cares for me tenderly. Furthermore, the self-emptying of poverty viewed within the context of love, may prompt me to give myself' away through giving my time, through allowing persons and their needs'to take priority over things. In an individualistic culture .in which my life is often run by a time-clock, per-haps I have lost the art of sharing my time with others, of giving my time away for the sake of others. In silent reflection before my Lord, I gradu-ally discover how much of my time I can realistically give away, for the demands of my own life make it impossible for me to be totally available to others. While the self-emptying of poverty may at times demand that I give myself selflessly to others, this same self-emptying may at other times .require that I refuse a request, because of my personal obligations or simply because I need the time to restore myself both physically and mentally. The essence of the spirit of poverty is. that~I grow gradually into the lived realization that my life is in the hands of my Lord. In love, he .has created me. In love, he continues each day to sustain me. My love for him in turn, prompts me to empty myself of myself and slowly to detach myself from material possessions in order to create the inner space in which I may become ever more sensitive and responsive to the whispers of. his love in my daily life. The pain of self-denial and of daily dying to my self-centeredness is very real, and at times, may be overwhelming. At such moments, I need to remind myself that my Lord'~ love for me led him to the cross, the ulti-mate experience of detachment .and of self-emptying:Just as his love for his Father and for me enabled him to transcend his natural repugnance for suf-fering,? so too, my love forhim strengthens me to follow my Lord along the way of the cross, that through the pain of self-emptying, I may be glorified by an ever deeper share in his life (see Ph 2:5-11 ). Obedience A further reflection on our contemporary culture leads us to realize that the value of power, also, is highly esteemed. All of us, at some time or another, fantasize having some kind of power. Perhaps during my school years, I dreamed of being class president or president of the student council. 362 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Or perhaps during my early years in religious life, 1 dreamed of one day being house assistant or local superior. Or;again, since ~those structures of-ten no .longer exist, perhaps my dreams are now directed toward being school principal, or head nurse, ot an influential member of tt]e parish team. What-ever my fantasy or my dream, chances are that some aspect of it is related to my drive for power. ,. Often implicit in this climb to the top of the social ladder is having power,over other human ~.persons, as well ashaving the power to make im-portant decisions. In fact, our world civilization seems to be based on a power struggle between the free world and communism. ., This power stru(:ture has .implications for ~the life of every human per-son: we often feel overpowered by technology, by the intricacies of big government and big business, by large ,agencies :that seem to control some facet of our lives, and before which we feel helpless. In turn, each of us to some degree seeks to react against, these overwhelming powers by asserting our own power within.:our small domain, be it in our limited ability to say "yes" or ,no" to issues pertaining to our personal life and work. Power in itself is to be valued, for without some degree of power, I ab-dicate the gift of my :human freedom, as well as human responsibility. How- ~everi power becomes detrimental when other human persons become ob-jects of my . personal project and desires. Then my power infringes upon their human freedom, and can become a destructive force. When this hap-pens, power, becofiaes an ultimate value for me, one by which I hope to gain some prestige and security, thereby repressing my own inner insecurity. '~ Religious men and women who vow obedience within our power-oriented world are reminders that human power, like the values of pleasure and possession, is not an ultimate value; that in light of my personal love relationship with my Lord, power is relative. For to be seduced by God means that ! allow him to have power over me. It implies that I grow in my ability to become attentive to his will, and become increasingly sensitive to his demands and desires. Our' love relationship assures me of his con-stant care and concern for me, In the security of his love, I discover the space to grow in the awareness that what he asks of me through the 'persons, events and situationg that enter into my life each day, is the concretization of his will for me at this time in my life,r Just as he speaks to me through~these realities that exist outsid ,myself, so too, he speaks through the reality that I myself am. His presence can be discovered in and through my possibilities and my limits, my desires and ¯ ambitions, my physical and emotional strengths and weaknesses. All that ¯ I am is my Lord's gift to me, a gift through which he speaks his word. Paul tells us that our deepest self is hidden in Christ, Part of our 10ve-re- ':For a further development of obedience as listening, refer to van Kaam, The VoCved LiIe; pp.'q57-169. '- Reflections on Vowed l,iving / 363 lationship then, demands that I be true to that deephst self, created in the image and likeness of .my Lord himself. To obey my deepest self, to submit myself to other persons, to events and situations demands a love so strong, that I am willing to empty myself of my desire, for total power over my own life, to accept in loving faith, that my Lord does indeed reveal himself through other creatures. In such a love, I can'.gradually loosen my grip on my own life, and slowly begin to listen more openly to persons, events, situations, both within my community and within the culture, as messengers of his divine will for me. In this loving openness, I am gradually freed from a slavish attachment to my feelings, my views, my opinions, my ideas, because I allow myself to be enriched by those of others. Recognizing the presence of my Lord in and through persons and events outside myself is difficult and challenging. For unconsciously, I tend to be-lieve that I know what is best for me. I tend to believe that what 1 know to be best for me is the concrete expression of the Lord's will in my life. How can otherpersons, each limited as I am, reveal to me anything of God's will? Such thoughts gradually close me in on my own thinking, my own ideas and opinions, somewhat like a snail closed-in in its shell. Uncon-sciously, I make myself like God, giving myself ultimate power over my life. Only in love can I gradually transcend my self-centered God-like atti-tude, and slowly begin to recognize my Lord's will for me as expressed in and through all of creation persons, events, situations.and things. In love, I discover the strehgth to die daily to my own will, in order to allbw my Lord's will to live and to be express~ed in and th.rough the limited human person that I am. Thus, every person who enters into my life, as well as everything that happens in my life becomes an integral part of my~ personal sacred history with my Lord. Conclusion ¯ A~' I reflect upon vowed living within the context of my personal love relationship with God, I can begin to see my vows as gifts which invite me to a continual deepening of this love relationship. For no longer is God a distant Spirit imposing upon me the obligations of the vows; rather, He be-comes Someone for me, someone real and personal inviting me to an ever ,deeper intimacy with °him through the sacred bond of my vows. As this intimacY deepens, I grow in the awareness of my need for him. I cannot live my vows on my own strength; I need to rely on his power. Paul tells us that "We possess this treasure in earthen vessels, to make it clear that its surpassing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). In hu-man terms, my vowed life makes no sensi~; it is foolishness in the eyes of men. Moreover, on the human levd alone, ].am unable to live such a way of life. It is delicate, fragile and vulnerable; ever exposed to the opposition of my own human nature and of controversial forces in our world. 364 / Review ]or Religious, I/olume 36, 1977/3 Living my vows becomes possible only through the centrality of my per: sonal love relationship with my Lord. In that love, I am graced with the strengtl~ and power, to re~spond to his constant invitation to enter into the self-emptying process. Our Lord is a jealous God who wants to possess me totally. He promises in return, to fill my emptiness with his loving presence. Each call to self-emptying is an invitation to die to some aspect of my old ~self; my needy self, constantly in search of the security of human power, pleasure and possession. However, this death is but a means of leading me to a life of deeper intimacy with him. It is a death c.alling me constantly to the new and deeper freedom of love. Each day of my life, he seduces me, calling me t6 a.morb personal" rela-tionship with him. Each day of my life, I must allow myself to be seduced-- to give him love for love, relying on his strength and his power. This call is a daily challenge, the challenge of living my "yes" to him. Am I willing to follow him all the way; ever open to i:laily situations as so many con-crete opportunities .for deepening my love through consecrated celibate .love, through self-emptying poverty and through freeing obedience? Now Available As A Reprint, ¯ Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories with Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Address: Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Toward Further Self-Definition William F, Hogan, C.S~C. Father Hogan is an Assistant General and General Procurator of his congregation'. His last article in these pages, "Communily Reconsidered," appeared in the September; 1976 issue. He resides Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma, Italy. In' Per]ectae Caritatis the Fathers of Vatican II told us that it serves the best interests of the (~hur~h for religious institutes to have their own special character.and purpose. Thus, the spirit of founders and all the particular goals and traditions that constitute the patrimony of each religious institute should be recognized and safeguarded (See 'PC 2,,b). This statement oc-casioned a flurry of activity in some religious communities to start research-ing their traditions to ,.confirm again the self-definition of each community, and to stir up interest in the spirit of their founders. In many instances this activity has bo~ne fruit in that the religious have been put more'clearly in touch with their particular roots and have slowly effected,some changes of direction in their life and apostolic stance. In other institutes, the spurt of renewed interest subsided almost as fast as it. began, especially in those congregations in which nothing particularly unique seemed to stand out. The call to discover the uniqueness of one's heritage is being reasserte~i in the proposed new text of the law for instittitesof the consecrated,life; for those who have framed the proposed text have taken very seriously the mandate of Vatican II about' preserving,the patrimony of each religious in-stitute. Instead of drawing up legislation to cove'r all the points on religious life in a uniform way, as th( present law in. good part does, they are pro-posing general principles of Jaw within which each institute is to draw up its particular norms in accordance with its own traditions. By taking such a direction, the new law, if it be approved,, will be inviting and requiring of religious greater efforts at community self-understanding and self-definition. In order to meet this demand, it will be necessary for members of religious 365 366 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 institutes, and in particular members of general chapters, to develop a re-fined awareness of the founder's charism, the continuing charisms of the congregation as expressed into traditions and in its spiritual and apostolic heritage, a clear sense of where the institute has been in the past, where it is in the present and where the legacy of the founder and the traditions of the community are pointing for the future. That there is still a widespread need for further self-understanding and self-definition is becoming apparent from the various interim constitutions and position papers of religious institutes. Prior to the decree on renewal of religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, August 6, 1966) and the directive to revise constitutions, the legislation of religious institutes had a remarkable sameness because constitutions had to conform to the ~Norms of 1901 and the subsequent rules of the Sacred Congregation, promulgated in 1921, which, had to be followed in seeking approbation for the texts of new constitutions. Today a new similarity is emerging, although it bears little resemblance to the primarily legal approach of the pre-sixties. The present-day "sameness of texts" appears to be rooted~in the fact that religious in-stitutes have followed the" lead of the council and gone back to the gospel roots of religious !ife, t0_us considering it as flowing out of the baptismal commitment. As -a result of this important emphasis on religious life in the context of the gospei and of bap~tism, underscoring, as it does, the.thorough-ly Christian nature of religious life, frequently the same scriptural and conciliar texts are cited. And in the process of situating the religious insti-tute in its proper ecclesial and Christian context,.little, or at least, insufficient stress,,~.is placed 6n those particular ways in which the founder wished to emphasize the gospel message and on those facets of. the Christ-life revealed through the Spirit's activity in his or her life and mission. Generally speak-ing, all religious have~'been very conscious of the need to express religious life in terms of a broad ecclesial vision and to avoid any instances of the exaggerated c~ngregationai emphasis~that may have closed them in on them-selves in the past. But in meeting, this issue, they may be.losing sight of that part of their contribution to the life of the Church which consists in positively developing their particular heritage. There is ~no reason why there cannot be harmony and balance between .the ecclesial and the peculiarly congregational elements, and thus a clearer understanding of the role of a particular .religious institute in the Church. For some religious institutes it may be rather difficult to grasp the unique-ness of their heritage, especially if they have been founded since the 1800's, when many congregations came to birth under the ~inspiration of. the Spirit ¯ to meet particular needs in some specific geographic area, and have pat-terned themselves on-other, already existi.ng congregations. But even in such instances, there.may well exist a uniqueness of insight and emphasis fr6m the founder, the early members and the riches that have accumulated~from the various religious over the years--spiritual, intellectual, apostolic riches that Toward Further Sel[-Definition / 367 constitute the legacy, of the congregation. It is these factors that will have to be borne in mind in delineating the norms of law for the congregation' today, and that will yiel'd the necessary self-understanding of the religious institute. Religiou,s today often have recalled in liturgies or at congregational gatherings concerned with community and plurality the celebrated text from the_ first epistle to the Corinthians: There are different gifts but the same Spirit: there are different °ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given , ~ for the common good . . . (I Co 12:4ff,). And similarly from Ephesians: ~And his gifts were that some should be apogtles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers in roles of service for the faithful to build up, the body of Christ. till we become one in faith and in the knowl-edge of God's Son, and form that perfect man who is Christ come to lull stature (Ep 4:11-13). The't~exts in themselves obviously speak of individual gifts of the Spirit to the Church; but in the modern context they can well'remind us of the diversity of gifts and charisms within the categories of the traditional gifts in the Church. If religious life itself is a gift of the Spirit to the Church, as the Church teaches, then even more precisely is the religious life of a particular institute a special gift of the Spirit to the Church for the building up of the Church. And the religious of the institute should seek to fathom the gift in all its particular aspects. The° gifts of diverse religious institutes to the Church reflect the many-faceted splendor of the Father's love for his peo-ple. Our response to that love should reflect the facets of that love as these are particularized in our institutes and their heritage.- To continue to reflect on and search out the heritage'of a religious in-stitute demands the continued expenditure of psychological energy. Yet many religious are tired of devoting their energies~this way, especially in view of the crying needs of mankind ~hom they are called to serve. The self-definition and self-understanding being requested of them may no longer be seen as a value worth pursuing. It cannot be denied that there are many demands on religious today, and they must~become ~selective in which de-mands they will meet. But in developihg personal and ~ollective criteria for responding to demands, religious must not forget.that the time and effort spent in self-understanding and self-definition is~ultimatelyfor the sake of greater and more meaningful service to others and for the building up of the life of the Church. The deeper the unde.rstand!ng of the call of the Spirit .,to the founder and those who have come after him, the deeper and more intense could be the response. And the growth in appreciation of the gift Of the Spirit that is a particular religious institute contributes to growth in wonder and appreciation of the gift that is Church. 368 / Review Jor Religious, Volume "36, 1977/3 . If the proposed direction of the new law for institutes of the conse-crated life is adopted in the Church, religious could be the richer spiritually for what it will necessitate in terms of further self-definition. But if the easier, more .comfortable path is followed of just latching on to that which is familiar, without serious examination of roots and traditibns, then the opportunity for seizing onto the uniqueness of God's gift of the particular institute will be lost. Every religious group was called into being because of a unique need in 'the Church. The continuance and growth of'institutes is suppo~sed to be .in terms of their umque contributions to the life of the Church and the world. This uniqueness is born of the special love of God for the founder and those who have succeeded the founder with the passage of time, all unique persons, who, in sharing life and ministry together, should be creating a unique response to God, the Church and the world. We need to know exactly where our insl, itutes are "new" in terms of this uniqueness, how we have arrived at this point through our traditions and history, and the best steps to promote ot~r response within a thoroughly Christian and ec-clesial religious life for the future. The Church's renewed call to the dis-covery of uniqueness deserves a serious answer if we value the gifts of God that are our institutes. ~ The Pregnancy The cloistered life within her sends the fire that burns her cheek-- Nature's proud assertion; Life's excited'glow; The insuppressible, open declaration Of yesterday's.creation and tomorrow's warm embrace. A compliant constitution accommodates her child--~ Time's prodigy care~ering toward release From cell to self so he may show his face And state in gurgled language instinctive gratitude. Never more important or more vital to another; ~ Linked by blood and substance in protracted intimacy O~f singular and enviable duration-- A high point in the human testament of love. A legacy for embattled man to learn from-- Acceptance, peace, surrender of one's self, Belief'in time hnd patience that reveals The unfathomable restoration of life's fragments in a soul. Donald DeMarco St. Jerome's College Waterloo, Ontario N2L _3G3 Canada Chapter Delegate" Qualities and R esponsi bi I iti es Robert Morneau Father Morneau is an Instructor of Philosophy at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ The significance of general chapters of religious communities cannot be overstressed. The responsibility of providing and sustaining a vision, the challenge to be true to the gospel while preserving the uniqueness of the community's special charism, the mandate to read the signs of the times and yet have a universal sensitivity, all demand diligent work and competent deliberators. This article is an attempt to describe some of the qualifies in-herently crucial to the fulfillment of the above challenges and to specify areas of responsibility following upon election as a delegate to a general chapter. Essentially what is being offered is a job description, a delineation ot~ the functions of a trusted steward, The thesis of this article is that a chapter delegate is called to be a dialogical person, a prophetic person, and a wounded healer.' / Delegate: A Dialogical Person God our Father is a God of revelation. In the precious mystery of his grace, he has chosen to reveal himself and his gracious love to mankind. Throughout history God .has communicated with his people, calling all crea-tion to life and fidelity. As a diaiogical God, he longs to speak his love and forgiveness; he searches out those who will listen and respond to his word. ~The image of wounded healer is taken from Henri J. M. Nouwen's book by the same title. 369 370 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 God has spoken and told us where he is and who he is. We are called to imitate our Father: "Try, then, to imitate God, as children of his that he loves. " (Ep 5: ! ); we do this from one perspective by becoming dialogi-cal persons. Our model is the Father who shares himself with us in word and sacrament. The qualities of a dialogicai person are many; we will limit our con-sideration to three essential attitudes that must be present if authentic com-munication is to happen. The first and perhaps most difficult quality of a dialogical person is listening. Monologues are terribly common in life; empty, one-sided discourses in which no one is listening and probably no one is thinking. Dialogue demands attentive listening, feeling behind the words into the reality being expressed. This type of listening is concerned not with simple, audible comprehension but with a compassionate desire to enter into the world of the speaker to see what has been seen, to hear what has been given. An example of this sensitive listening can be found in Tolstoy's classic War and Peace: He told of these adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that he was tell-ing it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which a man has when women listen to him--not clever women who when listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own clever comments prepared in their own little mental workshop--but the pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing it was all attention: she did not lose a word, not a single quiver in Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a single gesture. ~ She caught the unfinished word in its flight and took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of all Pierre's mental travail.'-' If a delegate is to truly listen, there must be some degree of interior silence.Turning off the inner engines is difficult and demands discipline, yet so necessary if the message is to be understood and the feelings are to o be appreciated. C. S. Lewis expressed well our dilemma: "Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement.":' To obtain this silence we must deal with our own fears, insecurities and prejudices. These tendencies block lis-tening, put us into the land of defensiveness and create a sense of being threatened. Secure in our forts, with drawbridge raised and the moat filled with crocodiles, we protect ourselves from new ideas, visions and possibili-ties. Again C. S. Lewis drives home the point: "He could never empty, or silence, his own mind to make room for an alien thought.''~ A chapter dele- "Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, tr. by Louise and Aylmer Maude. (New York, 1942), p. 1241. By permission of the Oxford University Press. :'C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (New York, 1944), p. 140. 4C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York, 1955), p. 184. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 371 gate must listen and discern. Electing a nondialogical person to a chapter is like inviting a deaf person to a concert or taking someone who is blind to an art museum. Neither experience nor growth is possible if essential capaci-ties are lacking~ Listening is essential to dialogue. A second quality of a dialogical person is trust. In an essay written in 1952, Martin Buber stated: "But here is an essential presupposition for all this dialogue: it is necessary to overcome the massive distrust in others and also that in ourselves.''~ If Buber's observation is correct, and there seems to be sufficient evidence to,verify his reflection, we have a lot of growing to do. We must reestablish trust in others and in ourselves. H~opefully, we will gr~aund our trust on the theological fact that God has faith and trust in us. He has given us freedom and intelligence, blessed us with insight and grace. We are his stewards entrusted to do his work in our times. Sensing this, a delegate must come to a radical trust in his own personal insight and conviction. This trust must then be extended to others who are also on the journey searching for truth and goodness. Nothing breaks down communica-tion so quickly as distrust; it hardly pays to initiate a discussion unless there is a solid degree of self-confidence and a climate of confidence in others. Buber, quoting Robert Hutchins, writes: "The essence of the Civiliza-tion of the Dialogue is communication. This presupposes mutual respect and understanding, it does not presuppose agreement.'"; Our trust in self and others must be supplemented with respect and the ability to understand. It would be profitable for delegates to spend some time critically reading Emerson's essay "Self-Reliance" and Howe's The Miracle o[ Dialogue. Desire ]or truth is a third quality of the dialogical person. A longing for insight and perspective characterizes the mind and heart of a truth-seeker. Like an ink blotter, this type of person quickly and completely absorbs truth wherever it presents 'itself. Desire for truth means being in contact with facts (hard data). There is no excuse for ignorance; the homework must be done. Besides researching and interpreting facts, truth demands contact with basic principles, those patterns of meanings which explain and eluci-date reality. Experience and reflection are prerequisites here. Besides dealing with facts and principles, desire for truth calls for the basic disposition mani-festing a willingness to change and grow. Regardless of who speaks a "pagan" philosopher, a formed provincial, a member in one's local commur nity, a poet--the searcher for truth listens and evaluates. So often God is speaking through these and other historical channels. If the search is honest, change will be demanded; certain, pet ~:ategories will be dropped and new ones added (e.g., collegiality) ; treasured prejudices must be let go and open-ness of mind fostered; static, rigid formulations must be reexamined in the :'Martin Buber, "Hope for This Hour;" quoted in Maurice S. Friedman, ed., Pointing the Way (New York, 1974), p. 222. ~;ibid., p. 222. 372 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 light of new research and insight. The process is painful and not without its victims but this is the price of honest discipleship. If a chapter delegate is called to imitate God by being a dialogical per-son characterized by attentive listeniiag, deep trust and a desire for truth, several responsibilities automatically arise. (1) A chapter delegate must be available to the people he represents. The thinking, feeling and life-style of his ~onstituency must be familiar material to the delegate. The duty of being available is not without its price: time and energy, precious and limited commodities, must be sacrificed in fulfilling this obligation. (2) A chapter delegate must be able to make distinctions. Meriol Trevor, in her biography of Cardinal Newman, wrote concerning Ft. Faber: "He would never dis-tinguish between disapproval and dislike; he himself always spoke of hating people who disagreed with him and he could not believe others were differ-ent.'' r This type of person should not be allow~id to be in the arena of policy making. One must be able to know and experience the difference between understanding and agreeing, between a person and an issue, between an idea and its emotive force. Chapters in which such distinctions are consistently made result in community growth and peace. (3) A chapter delegate must be willing to speak during the chapter proceedings. Some eloquent (and not so eloquent) discourses on stairways and in other private areas would be more profitably shared with the. entire group. There 'is no excuse for devastating criticisms made outside the halls of the chapter room and silence reigning within. As a general principle no one should say outside of chapter what he is not willing to say to the whole group. A delegate is mandated to speak out, to take a stance, to express points of view. If this is done with respect and in the spirit of truth, there should be tittle to fear. Merton's insight is helpful: "Ignorance is the parent of fear.''~ Our talk should flow from our study and reflection on life. Delegate: A Prophetic Person Jesus was a prophet. The study of Scripture verifies this fact and. further points out that throughout the Old Testament the Father sent prophets on special missions. Jesus' mission was unique and yet contained the basic in-gredients of those who preceded him: to reveal who the Father was and also to provide the means whereby people might return to the Father. Like Christ, the chapter delegate is missioned. This "being sent" comes through the community and the task flowing from this mission resembles that of all the prophets. The booklet Spiritual Renewal o[ the American Priesthood describes the prophet in these terms: The prophet's function was to perceive the presence or absence of God in situations and to point out the consequences of that presence or absence. A 7Meriol Trevor, Newman: Light in Winter (New York, 1963), p. 86. ,'Sotlrce unknown. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 373 prophet had to know contemporary issues, but even more, he had to be sensi-tive to the mind and will of God.:' In the context of this prophetic role, certain traits clearly emerge that would characterize a chapter delegate. The first of these is sensitivity. This sensitivity must embrace the three sectors of time: the past with its treasures and cultural limitations, the present with its high ideals and ambiguous facts, the future with its plans and realistic hopes. It is possible and often happens in life that we eat but do not taste, read but do not comprehend, listen but do not hear. Historical insensitivity cannot be excused; we must be in touch with our roots and our traditions. Unless carefully nurtured, this sensitivity can be lost. Sensitivity demands that we perceive what is happen- .ing here and now; that we enter in or are caught up by the present moment. This is not just a cognitive apprehension, since it necessarily includes an affective involvement~ The future will be basically meaningless if we do not avoid the tragedy of lost sensitivity written of by Hopkins: Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wear man's smudge and shares man's smell; the soul ls bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.~° It is time once again to take off our shoes/' to be sensitive to our world, to our people, to our deepest self. A sense of reverence, awe and wonder is much needed in our merry-go-round world. Prophets are, of necessity, courageous people. If Emerson is correct in saying that "God will not make himself manifest to cowards,''r-' then the V~rtue of fortitude takes on added importance in fostering the kingdom. Among the courageous people in history, St. Paul has been honored in a special way: ¯ . . But the big courage is the cold-blooded kind, the kind that never lets go even when you're feeling empty inside, and your blood's thin, and there's no kind of fun or profit to be had, and the trouble's not over in an hour or two but lasts for months and years. One of the men here was speaking about that kind, and he called it 'Fortitude.' I reckon fortitude's the biggest thing a man can have--just to go on enduring when there's no guts or heart left in you. Billy h~id' it when he trekked solitary from. Garungoze to the Limpogo with ~This booklet, edited by Gerard Broccolo and Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., was pub-lished in 1973 by the Publications Office of the United States Catholic Conference ( 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., WashingtoniDC 20005). ~'~Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God's Grandeur." ~V'Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries." Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh." I~Ra!ph Waldo Emerson, "The Over-Soul." 374 / Review lot Religious, ~'olume 36, 1977/3 fever and a broken arm just to show the Portugooses that he wouldn't be downed by them.,But the head man at the job was the Apostle Paul . 1:~ Courage helps us to deal,with two tendencies that permeate human existence: the tendency to fear the unknown and the drive to flee spontaneously from any object of danger. "Fright and flight"14 can block us from experiencing reality to its fullest. Courage enables us ~to stand firm and fight when the situation calls for this type of response; courage enables us to die to our-s~ lves for the sake of life. A delegate, knowing well what happens to most prophets in history, will have to face many dangers and crosses. At times his courage will manifest itself in patient endurance (the most difficult type of courage), while at other times he will be called upon to pounce on evil.1'~ Whatever is not compatible with the gospel must be courageously ques-tioned; whatever is antihuman or subhuman must be diligently removed. Living courage is a great boon to the entire community, not just to the in-dividual exercising that gift. A third trait of the prophetic person, exemplified so clearly in the life of Jesus, is that of vision. A delegate is called upon to have a perspective of what religious life is, to be able to situate in their context contemporary. issues, to sense the interrelationship among such things as prayer, asceticism and the apostolate. The blind cannot lead; only a person with vision can point the way. If a guide has not been to a given territory or if he loses the map which would get him there by carefully reading, he is no longer an asset to the group which relies on him. The delegate without vision con-tributes little in the attempt to provide meaning and direction for the com-munity. Two dangers have always plagued a healthy perspective: myopia and ignorance. The first danger allows one to see, but only to the end of one's nose--not a terribly helpful overview. Ignorance, th~ second danger, can only result in a valley experience even though the voice of the ignorant leader be forceful, and filled with an apparent self-confidence. A number of responsibilities become obligatory for the prophetic dele-gate. (1) A chapter delegate must be informed. Study and researizh will be as necessary and as natural as breathing for such a person. There is no excuse for not being aware of contemporary issues, the movements of our present culture, the meaning and influence of history. The presence or absence of information is relatively easy to detect. (2) If a person is to.be attuned to the mind and heart of God, prayer is necessary. Special emphasis should be placed on scriptural prayer since it is God's word which illuminates our understanding of contemporary issues. If the porters at the chapter doors should bar the uninformed, they should be twice as diligent in barring l:~John Buchan, Mr. Stead[ast; quoted in C. H. Dodd, The Meaning o[ Paul/or Today (London, 1920), p. 7. ~4Rev. Kevin O'Shea, "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Li]e, Spring, 1975. ~sSee the. excellent Thomistic treatment of the virtue of fortitude in Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (Notre Dame, 1966), pp. 117-141. ,Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 375 a person who does not pray faithfully. (3) A chapter delegate should be a person of decision. Newman in his Apologia Pro Vita Sua states: "Certitude is a reflex action; it is to,know that one knows.""; Study and prayer should lead us to this type of certitude which in turn enables us to make serious decisions, even though there will always be some element of risk if not doubt. Another facet in this process of decision making is the,willingness to assume responsibility for the decisions made. Indecisive and irresponsible persons should not be elected to chapters. The duties of being informed, prayerful and decisive are not acquired in a day not even a week. Yet the delegat~ should be growing in each of these areas if the community is to be served well. Delegate: A Wounded Healer Jesus promised that when he had returned to the Father he would send their Spirit. That promise has been realized in all who have come to believe in the Lord. This Spirit is leading all back to the Father through Christ; this Spirit is a Spirit of love, joy and peace. Through the Holy Spirit, heal-ing and reconciliation happens in our world today. A great vision of unity found in Pauline theology becomes a reality to the extent that people are living the life of the Spirit. Yet this vision of unity is premised on the tragic fact and acute awareness that fragmentation permeates creation. Man is divided within himself and separated from his fellow man, his God, and his world. We are a wounded pe~ople, scarred and battered by our own sins and the sins of others. "Everything God has made has a crack in it.'''r Our voca-tion is to make all one in Christ, to reconcile all creation to the Father. The gift of the Spirit dwelling in the Church and in our personal lives enables us to begin this glorious and painful task. The delegate as wounded healer is distinguishable by a sense of deep compassion. Graced with the ability to perceive things from the inside, the compassionate person has a knowledge of the heart and not just of external activity. The secret of the fox18 is undoubtedly correct: "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Compassion promotes our seeing what is truly significant;.it goes far beyond the inhuman limitations of our sensate culture. So often in Scripture, reference is made to the neces-sity of a new heart.':' God's word urges us to .grow in compassion and empathy. Insensitivity to the hurts and pains of others, even though these may be self-imposed, prevents the building of community. Compassion heals! Hopefully, every deli~gate has had the experience of being healed a6Early in his book Newmah writes, "In the first chapter of this narrative I spoke of certitude as the consequence, divinely intended and enjoined upon us, of the accumula-tive force of certain given reasons which, taken one by one, were only probabilities." lrRalph Waldo Emerson, "Compensation." lSAntoine de Saint Exupery, The Little Prince (New York, 1943). 1:'E.g., Jeremiah 31 : 31-34; Ezechiel 36:24-28. 376 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 through the heartfelt concern of others. Perhaps the task of the doctor applies to all of us: "sometimes to cure, often to alleviate, always to care.''z'' Compassion is care incarnated. The destructive force of nuclear warfare is so obvious that no on.e can deny its effects; less obvious but extremely powerful in the psychological realm is the prevalent killer called judgmentalism. A delegate must be a non~ judgmental person. This does not mean that one ceases making judgments, judgments which at times are sharp and painful. God has blessed us with reason and insight and we must ferret out the truth and the falsity of our lives and the life of the community. We cannot renege on our responsibility to find the truth and to speak it boldly. Judgmentalism, on the other hand, uses the faculty of reason but in an abusive way. Judgments are made, not on dis-cernible consequences, but on motives which cannot be verified. Evidence is wanting, yet persons are judged and insinuations are made. This type of iudgmentalism is characterized by intolerance (a demand that everyone live by my interpretation of religious life), a defensiveness and air of hostility, a lack of warmth and affability. A delegate, therefore, should have a delicate balance between tolerance of persons and intolerance of falsity; between respect for the individual and firmness in sticking to principles; between understanding the human condition and calling each other to growth. We come to realize that without the gift of the Spirit we cannot but fail in this stupendous task. Again we are helped in this area by realizing that we have been blessed in our personal histories with people who have refused to judge and condemn us, who have manifested an infinite patience in allowing us to grow through the stages of personal development. If we have been ~he object of judgmentalism, our experience should forever prevent us from venturing down that road of psychological and spiritual destructiveness. The word of God provides light for our pilgrimage. In the prophet Micah, we are challenged by the Father's woi~d: this is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.21 The call to justice, charity and faith is clear. Interestingly, spiritual love has the quality of tenderness, a-term which forcefully describes the manner in which we are to reach out to others in concern. It is possible to serve un-willingly, to meet needs because of duty, to heal out of necessity. This is neither sufficient nor healthy in an ultimate sense. God calls us to enter fully and generously into the lives of others. A tender love, a gentle con-cern, a warm respect characterize total love. Underlying this kind of love is the keen realization that human beings are terribly fragile. Indeed, "avalances gather force and crash, unheard, in men as in the mountains." "-'°America, May 1, 1976, p. 377. Paul Ramsey was quoted by the authors. '-'1Micah 6:8. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 377 People with whom we live can be breaking apart inside without our aware-ness; a tender word and radical love can heal so many lives that are on the edge.of despair. A chapter delegate would benefit from reading Fr. Kevin O'Shea, especially his article "Enigma and Tenderness.''~ The chapter delegate, a wounded healer, is challenged to fulfill certain responsibilities in this area. (1) He must ]ace the negative in self, others and the world. A recent Cartoon showed a street cleaner lifting up the edge of a sidewalk under which he swept the city's debris. No healing can take place unless we honestly and courageously face that which is destructive within life. Exploitation and manipulation are too common to be ignored; these must be searched out and dealt with in a reasonable way. (2) He should ]ace the positive in self, community and the world. Just as dangerous as the rug syndrome is the denial of or unwillingness to recognize the vast potential waiting to be actualized in creation. Leadership qualities lie fallow because of fear; intellectual skills remain untapped because of a lack of .challenge; talents stay on shelves for want of affective nutrients. "Our in-tellectual and active powers increase with our affection.'"-':' The truly great person has the vision to perceive the gifts of others~ the truly great person has disciplined productivity and shares his love and life with others. The delegate must perceive and promote the gifts and talents given by the Lord. (3) He should rejoice in life. Nothing heals so quickly as genuine humor and authentic play. Joy is one of the signs of the Spirit's presence. It flows from an awareness of God's personal love and the gift of his life. Consoling Conclusion It is eminently unfair.to demand of a single individual the. multiple qualifications listed in the foregoing pag.es. Who could possibly fulfill the following want-ad posted on the community .bulletin board? WANTED!!! 25 people who are: !) dialogicai persons --who have deep capacity to listen, trust, learn --who are available, discerning, vocal 2) prophetic persons who are --sensitive, courageous, visionary --informed, prayerful, decisive 3) wounded healers who are --compassionate, non-judgmental, tender --realistic, joyful ~20'Shea, op. cit. ~:~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship." 378 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Although applications might be filled out, no one person could qualify in every area. The first spiritual Olympics are yet to be held. Consolation comes from the fact that chapters are not made up of only one individual. Rather, they a~:e community affairs and the principle of complementarity comes inio play. What one lacks, 6thers have. The above job description is not so much one for individuals as it is for a community. Because of the blessing of pluralism, many communities could easily qualify. Tragic is the election in a community that allows a strong predominance of a single personality type. Once again, it is diversity ttiat leads to life; a di-versity grounded in concern for the kingdom. Beginnings Somewhe.re, in the night I hear you gathering pebbles for tomorrow's task.' Take care to slip a stir amidst the stones you gather; temples hold fast with dreams. Only a locust lurks in the wrinkled meadows, keeping company with the wheat that waits to be reaped by our tears. Together we will meet you at the altar when only the sound of bees will be heard preparing waxen sacrifices for your vacant vigil. Until then, I will be chanting antiphons in tune with your canticles. Sister Carole MacKenthun St. Mary Academy 250 Forest Ave., Lakewood, NI 08701 The "System" Side of Stewardship Gerald R. Amelse Mr. Amelse has been a church finance manager and consultant for sixteen years. He studied Accounting, Business Administration and Economics at The Catholic Univer-sity, the University Of Notre Dame, George Washington University and the University of Maryland. Culrently he is a partner of Calkins-Amelse Associates, which offers management services for non-profit organizations. His office is located at 4531 Pine-crest Heights Drive; Annandale, VA 22003. The widely publicized financial mishaps of several Catholic Church organi-zations in recent years have brought into question the quality of church financial management in general and of financial management in religious congregations in particular. Public attention has tended to focus on the caliber of the financial administrators and advisors involved in these cases rather than on the adequacy of the underlying systems of financial organi-zation, policies .and procedures in each instance. Responsible stewardship can result only when qualified administrators function within an appropriate financial management system. An unsound financial management system; in whole or in part, can be as inimical to responsible stewardship as unquali-fied administrators or advisors. A sound financial management system is equally important for religious congregations because of their changed environment. For several genera-tions, ~religious congregations in the United States enjoyed almost steady growth in membership, resources, activities .and facilities. Now, however, total memberships are static, if not in actual decline; new needs, such as retirem6nt, are making additional claims on already limited resources, and the maintenance of much needed apostolic acti~,itie's and institutions is be-coming increasingly more difficult. Financial management systems developed and used during previous generations may have been adequate in an era 379 380 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 of growth. The present environment, however, requires a system that will improve the ability of a congregation to meet~ increasing internal and apostolic needs with limited and declining resource potential. The exercise of responsible stewardship today calls for clear financial organization, appropriate financial policies, and sound budgeting, account-ing and reporting procedures. Church leaders should be concerned about the adequacy of' their organization's financial management system and anxious to improve it in each of the following areas: Financial Organ&ation A congregation's financial organization is the structure of its formal decision-making positions, the relationships between those positions, and the lines of their accountability. Besides the standard positions (treasurer, controller, and so forth) a congregation's financial organization should also identify the individuals responsible for specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and clearly define their respective roles, relationships and lines of accountability. Lack of clarity in a congregation's financial organi-zation can easily lead to flawed communications, loss of direction, duplica-tion of effort, and wastefulness in the exercise of responsible stewardship. Financial Policies A policy is a definite course or method of action, selected from .among alternatives and in light of given conditions, to guide and determine present and future decisions. Without a comprehensive set of clear financial policies, officials and administrators ~i'e, in effect, more or less free to make financial decisions according to their individual discretion rather than according to previously approved courses of action. The four major sources of financial policies for a religious congregation are: Church law, norms and guidelines; the congregation's own rule and constitution; formal enactments of the congregation,s governing body; and day-to-day operating decisions. It is the responsibility of the congregation's governing body, however, to have a summary of financial policies prepared and periodically to review and approve it. Budgeting The budget is a congregation's principal financial planning tool. The long-range planning aspect of a budget (i.e., two or more years') should identify the congregation's future sources" and uses of funds, project the amounts of revenue anticipated from each identified source and project the amounts of expenditures required for each identified use. The short-range aspect (i.e., month, quarter, year) should detail the estimated ex-penditures for each proposed program, project, activity and department, and itemize the specific means of financing the expenditures. Since the objective of a budget is the development of a financial plan, it The "System" Side o[ Stewardship / 381 is necessary to begin the budgeting process with information about the programs, projects, activities and departments which the congregation is planning for the coming year(s). Information on past performance is an importarit input to the budgeting process, but relying too heavily on ac-counting data and financial reports (which are historical in character) can create the danger that.a congregation's budget will reflect more what has happened in the past rather than what the congregation wants to happen in the future. Clear financial organization is essential for sound budgeting. A budget can not be completely useful as a planning tool until the individuals re-sponsible for each program, project, activity and department have been identified and their responsibility for performance against the plan and budget has been accepted by them. Furthermore, budgets that are prepared without the participation of the persons responsible for directing specific programs, projects, activities and departments are generally weak as plan-ning tools. Program, project, activity and d~epartments heads can not be expected to comprehend fully, agree with or conform to a financial plan in which they did not participate in developing. Accounting ~nd Reporting The financial statements of religious congregations are meant to provide superiors, administrators, members and other interested parties with a mean-ingful summarization of the congregation's overall financial condition as well as the operating results of its programs, projects, activities and ~depart-merits. In order to achieve this purpose more effectively, congregations should introduce both "fund" and "functional" accounting procedures into their basic accounting systems. A fund is a sum of money or other resource, set aside for a specific pur-pose acc~ording to restrictions imposed either by the intent of the donor or" by regulation of the congregation's officials~ Grants, annuities and endow-ments are examples of funds whose uses are restricted by the intent of the donor. A retirement fund is an example of money set aside for a specific purpose by regulation of the congregation's officials. The significant char-acteristic of fund accounting is that it classifies and records the financial transactions within each fund--assets, liabilities, receipts, disbursements and fund balances--according to the specified restrictions. Functional accounting records expenses according to specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and reports this information to the administrators directly responsible for these functions. This procedure im-proves expense control and also provides a practical basis for realistically evaluating the allocation and use of the congregation's limited resources. A congregation could be led' tO revamp its finanEial plans of action when confronted with financial information that enables a comparison of pro-gram, project, activity and department ~osts with their intended results. 3a2 / Review jot Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/3. oaelusion Financial organization, policies and procedures are not the only aspects of responsible stewardship. They are, nonetheless, essential elements of-sound financial management and control. Any congregation that finds its present management system to be somewhat inadequate should obtain qualified assistance to help review and strengthen it wherever necessary. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 Retirement or Vigil by B. Ashley, O.P. .30 The Confessions of Religious Women by St. M. Denis, S.O.S. 30 The Four Moments of Prayer by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 The Healing of Memories by F. Martin .35 The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat by H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 The Teaching Sister in the Church by E. Gambari, S,M.M. .30 The Thepiogy of the Eucharistic Presence by J. Galot, S~J. .30 The Vows and Christian Life by G. Greif, S.J. .30 New Reprints Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet by M. B. Pennington, O.C.S.O . 50 Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Seeks Him .30 Prayer of Personal Reminiscence by D. J. Hassel, S.J. 60 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 No. Gra

Issue 5.2 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; l~/Iarch 15,,,1'946; NUMBER. i RgvIgW,FOR L.IGIOU S.: ¯ VOLUi~tE V " 'MARCH 15, 1946 : NUMBER 2 " CONTENTS BOOKLET NOTICES . . ~ - : ¯ , ,.84 " ~BIL~. OF RIGH'~S FOR RELIGIOUS James E. Risk, S.J . VOCATION BOOKLETS . , . °92 '\ OUR "CONTRIBUTORS . 92 - THE PARTICULA~R FRIENDSHIP--Gerald Kelly,'S.J .9.3. CHRISTIAN UNTOUCHABLES ?--John E. Coogan, S.J, . "COMMUNICATIONS . : . ; ¯ ¯ , 113 GOD FORGIVE~ AND FORGETS--Clarence McAuliffe, S.J .1. OUR LADY'S LACK OF FEAR--Charles F. Donov~n, S.J. 122 ,'QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 8~. Toties Qucties Indulgence in Community Chapel . ~. ¯ . L26, 9; Indulgences on Beads not Ldst by Restringing . . : . 126~ I0. Pater.nAve. and Gloria at Each Station . 11. ,Visit to "Church or Public Oratory;' in Community Chapel ., ~ 127" 12." :Foundaffqns for Ma~ses . 13. "Stretching" and Disposalof Holy Water . 128 14. Dispos!tion of Life Insurance by Religigus . 129 15. Holy Week Services in Hospital Chapel . ]31 ~ 16. Profits from S;~les Placed in School Fund ." . . . 2 . 132 BOOK REVIEWS~ ,John Henry Newman: Sermon Outlines; Splritual;Problems of Our Times; The Splendor ~f the Rosary; Going His Way; Gregorian Chant; Speech Models: 'The Divine Pursuit: The State in Catholi~ Thotlght: The Life of of Our Lord; The Flowering Tree: The Priest of the Fathers: The Religion Teacher an, d the World; Pascal and His Sister 0~cqueline; The Clean Oblation: Heads Above thy.,Stars 1~3 ¯RECOMMENDATIONS ¯ ¯ . . . " . 143 BOOKS RECEIVED , . . 144 R~VIEW FoR RELIGIOUS, Marcfi, 1946. Vol. V, No. 2. Published' bi-inonthly; January, March. May,,July, September. and November at the Co!lege Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka.Kansas, by St. Mary's College; St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as secohd class matt, er January "at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, '1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. A.ugustine Ellard~ S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. ! Ed~torial,Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 19:46 b~ Adam C Ellis. Permission is hereby g.r~anted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due c~edit be given this rewew and the author. St~bscription price: 2 dollars& yhar. Printed in,~U. S" Before writing to us,,please consult notice 6n inside back.cover. B r ' , . - ~ ~.,G. Augt~stine Ellard "THE OUr Fathe~0 which Christ taught the ApostIes when . |.they had asked.Himhow to pray,, has always been con- .:~ sidered the :great Christian prayer Bar. excelter~ce. The Fat'hers of the Church, theologiansr and.spiritual writers have .vied .with one another in extolling its virtues, in ~xplai~ing its meaning,-and in urging the faithful" to make. th~ .mbst of it. Not. 10ng ~ago a-new translation 0f ¯St.-Te~esa's study of the Our Fath~_was published in thi~ .country (see ~his REVIEW for March 1943, page 135). In .~theie brief remarks the Our Father is onsidered mostly with respect,~to one idea, .namely,. that of the ~disposition -which itsuggests to prefer the. more.~erfe~t thing. -~ : In view of th~ magfi~cen.t promise~:m~de by. cfiriSt to those ~h6"~ray and"bf fhe special merits of this, Hi~ own reco~mdnded f0rmul~ for ~r~ye¢~:~n~ would.expect 5hat ~he results achieved by it~would be incalculable. It is hardly conceivable.that a. Christian who prays atall would not 'sometimes use the.OAf Father. But gg'~ matter of factare its ~ruits as good and a~ great as the tree seemed' to promise? ¯ .~e gan hardly blame the~.prayer itself~ ~0ssibiy khe fault lies in.th~ state of will of him who pronounces it. '~Y~ ask ~and~ ye receive not, because ye ask ,amiss" (3ames 4:3, ¯Westminster Version). Possibly; as. St. Augustin~ sug-gests, we ask badly, or we ourselves are bad, or we~ ~sk f0r~ ~bad: thifigs. " . ~ - The Our Father consigns of two pfineipal parts: the invocation~nd the petitions. -~e opening word~, ';Our Father, who art in heaven,", constitute the invocation. ~e ¯ .number of.petitionSi~ variously giveh by ~aiious authori- . - ties. Since~St. Augustine'm0st ~estern~wrif~rs count Seven. G. AUGUSTINE ~ELLARD Reuiea~ for Religious The Greek Fathers and most ,modern-commentator~ take-all the hst .w.ords", .Lead us not into temptation, but deli¢ero us from evil," together and find only six." By t.akihg the words, '.'Hallowed be T, hy name," as an expression of praise and reverence rather than a request and joining them with what was given above as the invocation, the numbdr of petitions may be reduced to'five. In.any case these requests fall into two groups oi part~. " As in the case of ~he decalogue an~d of the two great commaffd-ments (Matthew 22:40), the first, part refers to .God, the sdcond to man. In the first thiee petitions, we seeb the glory of our hea~,enly Father, in the last three [if sixbe counted] the .advant:ige of ourselvgs and our fellows. But there is n9 sharp line of separation between these two. The glory of God is a blessing to His children, and what behefits them is a'glory t0 their, heavenly Father., Thus, while the first three petitions sh6w the end which ~ve should have in view the a~ccomplishment of Gdd's glory, kingdom, and will: the last three show the means provisio.n, pardon, and protection. The [different members of ~the] t.wo tril~lets corresp~r~d thus. The first petition is addressed to God as our Father, the°secOnd as our King, the third as our Master. We ask our Father for sustenance, our King for pardon. our Master for guidance and guardianship. The transition from the one triplet to the other, from man's re.gard for God to God's care for man, is made in the third petition; which would raise earth t6 heaven by securing that God's rule~ should be equally complete in both.- And in each ~riple.t the~e is progression. In the first, the hal-lowing of God's name leads to the c0~ing of the kingdom, and the coming of the kingdom to the perfect fulfilment of God's will. In the second, the obtiiining ot~ good is followed by the remo~,al of evil, past, present, and future. (Plummer,~.Comrnentaq/ on. S. Mat-thew, ,96.) The words of the invocation, "Our Father, who art in heaven," remindus at once who' God. is, who we are, and what our relations to, Him are.- Hence they su'ggest what our dispositiffns toward Him should be. With immense ~ondescension and 'liberality God ~vishes to be cailed upon and regarded as a father rather than, say, an almighty and 74 Mbr~b, 1946 : " .~ ::-:~F~:L~)RD'S,"P.P~'Y~R eternal "lord: Address.ing i~im a~ Father. w~ are .reminded that our feeling toward Him should be filial and full. of childlike.' love and confidence. Since He is a°father .who .dwells in heaven, we recall that our reverence, love, anal confidence should be in proportion to the h~ight and, mag-nitude of heaven: His infinite excellence asia father'c~lls for the be~t possible attitude upon our part.: If, as is more likely, we :address, not the First. Person, but all-three Persons of.the Blessed Tr~inity, as Our Father, God's incom-prehensible excellence and what our filial spirit should be are brought out into still greater relief. Moreover the fact .that our Father is in heaven should help us to realize where our true home is, where our.inheritance is to be found; and how great and permanent it is. If we ~dare to. call-the ~infinitely great and high God :"OutFather," we ought. feel thatour manners and lives should correspond to that- . dignity. Arid'if we t, ake complacency in God as a father, it would be oi~ly reasonable that we should give .Himoccasion to bepleased with us. " " -Of the petitions; th~ firstis: "Hallowed be Thy name." "'To hallow" isan old English term for":t0 make holy." The mode. of ex~pression is Semitic. '.'.Name" stands~'for the divine nature0r rather for God Himself in: sofar asHe ~i~s known, name being that.by which one. is ,known. We cannot make God more hol~; but' we .can recogniz~ Hi~ sancti~y an~d honor it.and"s~rive to mttke:0th~rS revere it, We. can acknowledge th~ immeasurable perfec~ibri¯ hnd excellence of God, admire it, esteem" it, love it," and exert ourselvesto bring others to the knowledge and love of God. In other words we can glorif~ God; and, briefly, that is what we pray for here. Before asking for anything for our-. selves, we show our willingness to look to God'sown inter-ests. Before begging for the means, we :petition for the end, namely, the divine glory, with which our own' beati- 75 ~. AUGUSTINE.ELLARD Reoiew ~or Reh'glo~s .~de is r~ally identical. Thus this firs~ request has°f0rqts object that which~ is ~highest and best. and~ ultimate in0~the -.whole scheme of things, the end Of~creatlon°and of the uni-verse. . , _~, ¯. If we tell God that we desire His glory, it,is o~nly rea-sonable that we should understand what we. desire~ and really 'mean what We understand. To glorify.,God ~is n~ot so much to keep reciting "Glory be to the Father., .'"as to share in His perfection, pa.rficularly in. His knowledge and love of His own infinite goodness. Thus we manifest~it.and acknowledge i~. in proportion as we make ourse_,lves better sons of G6d and advance in the knowledge and'10ve Of Him, we mirror forth and appreciate, His grea~hess more'-and more and s'o add to. His glory. That is what ~e profess to desire. Now there is ~nold axiom-to the~effect that he w.h0 wills ~he end, wills the means a!s0. in our prayer we do not e~xpress a limited, desir,e;: we ,wish°simply ~ind ~ithout r~se_r- ~vation th~it.God be glorified. If;that wish be whglehearted, we shall be willing to use all the means reasonably at our disposal. We, shall be glad not 'on!y-to do some things for the glory.of God, but all that we can; we shall be willing to use the be(ter means, ~to choose the bette~:- or more perfect way to the enid. ~The best ~of all ways of glorifying God's sanctity is to fulfill that ancient injunction: "Be ye holy because I-the Lord your God am holy" (Leviticus -19:.2). The second petition is: "Thy kingdom come": that is, "May Thy rule be extended." ".The devout Christian prays that the divine reign.may prevail everywhere.and at'all .times, individually and socially, in private derisions and publicpglic.ies, in,Church and'in State. The kingdom~of God will come to the Christian himself when he removes all,obstacles to 7divine grace and gives it his fullest coopera-tion. ~He hopes similarly, that infidels.and~fieretics will be con.v~i~ted to God, that°sinnerswill reform, that the tepid "Match, 1946 THE LORD'S PR~YER will become fervent, and that all Will become perfect: God Hill reign in the State Hhen it publicly and officially.hQnors Him, promotes His cause, and .lets all its laws and acts be inspired by His spirit.~ The divine kingdom will-come fully to ~he ChUrch when the human eli~ment in it is brought into cbmplete harmony with the divine, and when all members of the Mystical Body attain perfect adaptation to their Head. If all nations should treat one another with justice and charity and live in peace and concord, the king-dom 'of God would come to" the peoples of the world. Finally, we pray that- the celestial reign of God, with con.- summated gloryfor Him and final bli~s for us all, may not fail to arrive. "It seem~ evident enough th'atone who expresses to God, a desire that His kingdom should come in all its fullness and grandeur--and who is not satisfied with half-measures-- ~should realize that, to be consistent with himself, he o.u, ght to be willing to do whatever he can to advance that coming. He could not at the same time really wish for gomething and not do his best to bring it about. Rather he will be alert discern the opportunitlies given him to promote .God's inter-ests and glad to make the best use of them. Next follows'the third petition: "Thy will be done on - earth as it is in heaven." From the moral and spiritual point-of view this i~ probably the most practic~l part 6f the ~vhole Our Father. Doing the will of God is assuredly the gr.eat means both of glorifying God and of expanding His rule, at least in so far as achieving these purposes dep,ends Ul~On us. . Here Our Lord instructs us, to follow His own example: "I am come down from heaven, not to do'mine own will, but the will of him who sent me" (John 6:3"8) ; "My food is to do the will of him that sent m~, and to accomplish his work" (Ibid., 4:34). .o In the total will of God we may distinguish His abso- 77 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious ~fite will and His normative will. The former-is manifested in the couise of events inasmuch as these are independeiit of our control and shbject'only to .-the direction of divine providence: Misfortunes which c6me Upon us without any. act-of our own.exemplify this division of the will' of God; ~so do fortunateoo~cui:rences .which we have nothelped to briiag about. When therefore one recites the. Our Father, he Jiubmits it would seem,-at least implicitly, to whatever Providence may have in store for him. One may accept all these dispositions of the divine absolute will for God's own" sake, for one's own, .or even for the good of. souls. ,Rever-ence for God's supreme dignity and unselfish love for His infinite goodness could move one to accept becomingly and bear patiently, say, a painful, lingering illness. Enlightened self-interest would lead anybody wh6 really andpiac~ically believes in th~ divine guidance of events to take things as il~ey come from the infinite wisdom, benevolence, and power of his own heavenly Father. A man who says .this petition sincerely,-and realizes what it means, Shares in God's providence. He makes God:s plan. for him his own and then, strives-to accomplish it. He iswise enough to that no other counsel could be better. The normative'will of God is addressed to Our intelli-gences and wills., and depends upon us for" its accomplish-ment. It is simply that which is indicated by the divine precepts and counsels. To°the precepts, or as we may Say, to the preceptive Will of God, belong all laws, divine or human, imposing an obligation in ~0nscience, whether~ serious or slight. The object of the counsels, the directive" will of God, comprises all thegood or better things that God recommends and would like to see us embrace. They are proposed but not imposed: The evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience are an example. So is, other things being equal, giving ~i generous alms w_hen a 78 Marcb, 10~6 '- THg LORD'S PRAYER less¢.r One would satisfy all obligations, or receiving Holy. Communion daily rather than only once a year at Easter time.' Docility to grace will be a response to the pieceptive will bf God when grace inclines one to obey a legitimatd commandment, and to the directive will of God when His influence inclines one to some additional gdod that is not obligatory. In many, if not most, religious institutes of modern origin, the rules of.themselves pertain to the direr-- rive will of God. Evidently enough, in heaven God's will is carried out by each and every angel and saint with the greatest possible perfection, even down to the last little jot and ~tittle. It °could not be otherwise. He therefore who profes.~es to desire that God's will be executed on earth, just as it is done in heaven would, it seems, commit himself to doing his v~r.y .best for God. If that desire is genuinel and as long aS it remains genuine; he will not refuse to adopt any reasonable means to realize it. Of course it is not at all implied that so much generosity is of obligation. .~ This disposition would be the most perfect that one could have; and, if maintained steadily, it should quickly lead one to a very high degree of, virtue. One who wills. just what God wills would participate in the maximum possible measure in' the w.isdom and sahctity of God, in His divine work, in His peace, and eventually'in His Beatific life in heaven. All real and true reasons are in favor of a~dopting and kdeping such a .disposition; against it there can be only apparent reasons. All the reality of God Himself; a veritable infinitude of reasons, is on that side of the scale: His divine dignity and majesty calling for the deepest reverence, Hi~ boundless goodness alluring to wholesouled love, His im-mense, and numberless benefits suggesting gratitU'de, His outrag,~d excellence' demanding penanc, e and sa'tisfaction, and similarly with all the other'divine attributes. EaCh and ~G. AUGUST ~INE~ELLARD Re~ieua [or'Religlou8 ever~y divine attribute is an inexpressibly potent in~entive to carry out God's will on earth as in heaven. Self-interest will impel the enlightened Christian to strive manfully to execute, the whole planof God during his ear[hly p~lgrimage as he will hereafter. No other,pro-gram. could promise fewer disadvantages and more ad~an-rages. Even if~ t~e designs of God should contain much sufferiffg for one, .as in fact they-often do for those whom God loves most, those tbibulations would be still greater opportunities. ~One may losea cent, but one would gain.a dollar. God's service pays ~ell~ ~hatever God"intends for any of His children is meant eventuallyfor~that per-son's enrichment and ~appiness. If a man were looking out purely and simply for his own. profit, the best course that he could choose would ~e precisely that which God has already chosen for him. His prudence could hardly surpass God's,. he cannot love himself more than God loves him, nor could his e~cienc¢ improve upon the divine method. To attain fully to the.life and beatitude destined for us, it is necessary .to do all that enters into. the divine scheme for. that .purpose. And God's wishes are always possible and reasonable and accommodated to our weaknesses. _ The words "on earth as it is in heaven" may very,~ell be understood not only with the third petition, but al~0 wi~h all the first three petitions taken together. If so; We should pray that the way in which God is glorified, His kingdom brought about, and His will carried out in this life should be like that in which those great effects are achieved among the blessed. That would indeed be the best possible prayer. "In any "case these words prepare us for humbler~ requests. From the ~ivine-heights we descend to our human~needs. Havi0g, sought the .kingdom of God,:and, -- His justice, we are in a .better.positi6n to geek material bles- ~Marcb, 1946 THE LORD'S PP~YER sings. After professing 6ur willingness to do all that God asks of. us, 'we can more decently and.confidently go'on to ask for things for ourselves. Hence it is logical in the next place to pray for our natural necessities: "Give us this day our dail~; bread." We acknowledge that we depend~ upon our heavenly Father for even such lowly and .common things, as~ bread. We dq not ask for delicacies or luxuries but for that which js necessary or becoming. Nor do we desire" an abundance of material good: a supply for the present is enough. .In the fifth petition, "Forgi've us our itrespasses, as we forgive those who trespass agai.nst us," we are admonished of our sinfulness, sincg we must beg for the remission" of it; of our continual frailty, since we must plead fo~ indulgence continually; of God's willingness to pardon, ~ince He teaches us so to ask ~or cancellation of our debts; of ~he condition upon which it depends,, namely that we forgive ~others; ~nd finally of the measure in which we may expect it. "Pardon and-ye shall be pardoned; give, and it shall be given to you; good measure,jpressed down, shaken together, running over, shall they pour into your lap. For with what m~asure ye nieasure, it shall be mealsured~unto you in return" (Luke 6:38). .Thinking of God's liberality and benefits and the gratitude we owe Him should remind us of the contrast between the generous way in which He has treated us and the ungrateful manper in. which we have behaved toward- Him. A sense of shame and sorrow" will make our plea for fo.rgiveness more effective. It foilows that the greater our debt to God, the greater is our need of good will. The best means of paying tha,t debt~for p~ist sins ,is to have the best disposition to fulfill the whole plan and Will of God in the future, always to cho6se the more perfect alternative, to let grace abound where before we pr,efe.rred sin. Similarl~r the best way of making reparation to the 81 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious Sacred. Heart of Jesus is to try fully to do what pleases- Him best. Finally we-pray for protection, an obvious.r.equest for ¯ a child to make to a father. This petition refers to the future as the One for-pardon regards the past and the0ne:, for provision pertains to the present. "Lead us not into temptation"-: that is, "Do. not permit us to get into circum-stances in which we should be allurdd t0.sin and, as a mat-t~ r of fact, really yie.ld to ~theoenticement." We do not ask simply to be freed from temptations. -That would.ind~ed be in itself a most excellent and desirable thing; but it ~ould not be in a~cordance with the present order of divine" providence and would hardly be granted. But we do hope with God's grace to be shielded from dangers of sinning that w6uld be too great for us and to-do well ih those that ¯ God for good reasons does permit. We ask for the necessary help to turn such dangers into profitable opportunities. Now~ one would hardly deny that the first means of dealing well with t~mptations and of turning them to our benefit~ rather than allowing them to ruin us moially, is precisely to make the best use ofthe power we already have at hand to do good and avoid evil, that is, to do as much .good as we can. Doing our best implies choosing what is relatively to Us the more peri:ect thing-. The best defensive heke at~ least is a total offensive against the forces of evil. " ' Havi.ng asked to be saved from falling into sin, we end by.begging" for deliverance from evil: "But deliver us from evil.''~ There never has been agreement as to just-what is meant by "evil:" Some understand it generally of what-is" bad, and others of "the dvil one," that is, the devil. The latter sense is preferred in the Westminster Version:~ :'But deliver us from the evil one;" (Matthew 6:1.3) : Again some consider these words to be a parallel expression of the petition, "Lead .us not into t.emptation," and others" take 82 ThE LORI)'S PRfi.YER them tO constitute a new petition. It seems advisable, with St. Cyprian, to understand evil in the most comprehensive ".sense and also t.o interpret these final words as summing up aH our requests to Gdd. Thus we should ask to be freed from all evil whatsoever, moral and physical. Included would be sin, mortal and venial, imperfections, and phys.b cal evils such as disease, destitution, .war, and so inasmuch as they would be an impediment to our moral ~ progress) Anything at all that would prevent-us from realizing God's plan in its entirety and from winning-.for ~ ourselves and for others the full measure of beatitude is really a great evil. On the other hand, we should be very shortsighted and unkind to ourselves to seek to be spared any 6f these tribulations or sufferings which in the end would redound to our greater good. With this disposition, .reaffirming our desire tO accomplish fhe whole divine plan for us and fully to c0~form to God's schemk of pr~destina:- tion for us, we would conclude our petitions on'a strong and noble note. Catholics are sometimes,surprised to hear non-Cath01i~S ending the Our Father With the wordb: ',For thine is the l~ingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amem" -These words are not a Protestant addition. They occur.in some. manuscripts of the New Testamen~ and have always. been used by Oriental Christians, Catholic as well as schis-matic or heretical. They are found at the end of the Our Father as it is recited at the altar in most of the eastern liturgies. HoWever they do not seem to have been a part of .the prayer as it originally came from the mouth of Christ. It is.generally ackngwledged now that they are a liturgical doxologywhich was added afterw.ards, in keeping ,with the general tendency to end prayers, psalms, and hymns with an explkit expression of praise .an~ glory to God. A similar formula, from the royal Psalmist himseif; addressing God 83 ~. AU~GUSTINE ELL.~D as father, may be read in I Paralipomenofi 29:10, 1I: "Blessed art thou, O Lord the God of'Israel, our father from eternity to eternity. Thine, O Lord, is magnificence, andpower, and glory . thine is the kingdom, O Lord." BOOKLET NOTICES From The'Apostolate of Suffering, 1551 North 34th Street, Milwaukee 8, Wisconsin, we have received the Good Samaritan Almanac: 1946 (25 cents) and "'Sunnie'" One of God's "'Pets," (10 cents). The latter contains the brief but -inSpiring autobiography of Vera Marie Tracy, author and poet.of the ~hut-ins. together with some of her sketches and poems. This little booklet is a must for all whowould learn from example how to find happiness in the midst of' suffering. Mother Frances Schervier: Foundress of the Sisters of the Poor of Saint Francis, by the Most Reverend Amleto Giovanni Cicognani, D.D., (a reprintof the Intro-duction to the biography of Mother" Frances). comes from Rev. Roland , Burke, O.F.M. Vice-Postulator of her cause. Mount AIverno. Warwick, N.Y. Retreats for Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, by James L. McShane, S.J. which aims to encourage veterans to make retreats, is distributed gratis by the Central Bureau Press. 3835 Westminster Place, St. Louis 8, Missouri. The Heart in Divine Praises, by Frail is P. Donnelly, SJ. contains a series of reflections on the Divine Praises (used ai" Benediction) and on th~ Seven. Last Words. The booklet may be obtained from the author at Fordham University, New York 58, New York. The Radio Replies Press, St. Paul 1. Minndsota.'sends the following booklets: .Theolpgg of the Crucitixion, 10 cents, ,by the Reverend Francis'X. Sallaway; The Mosaic Manifesto (Fhe Ten Commandments simply explained for children and converts), 50 cents: New Light on Martin Luther, 15 cents: Why Squander Illness? (Prayers and thoughts for Catholic and ~non-Catholic patients), 15 cents: The Music of Ireland, radio commentaries on Irish songs, 15 cents. The October 1945 issue of St. Meinrad Historical Essays is unique. It is devoted exclusively to Holy Scripture. The ten essays.are the first-fruits of. an inter-seminary contest sponsored by St. Meinrad Historical Essays for the purpose of arousing greater interest among seminarians in the stud}' and practical presentation of Holy Scripture. Some of the titles read as follows: "The Family Bible," "Motives for Reading Holy Scripture," "The Bible as a Book of Meditation." Seminarians should find interesting and profitable reading" here. Single copies ma]r be obtained. for 60 cents from St. Meinrad Seminar}', St. Meinrad. Indiana. The Reverend Julius Grigassy sends us "Devotions to Our Lord Jesus Christ Crucified," a timely pamphlet for Lent. This may be obtained from Prosvita- Enlightenment, 611 Sinclair Street. McKeesport. Pennsylvania, or from Amer. Russky Viestnik. Greek Catholic Union.Building, Munhall, Pennsylvania, Price: 15 cents. 84 ¯ A Bi!l o1: Right:s for Religious James E.'Risk, S.J. 44~RELIGIOUS has no rights!'_'. Too often the calm t~ atmosphere of a retreat has been disturbed by this ill-considered though pious maxim. Called upon to defend such a statement, a director, would doubtless interpret it to rn'ean the unlimiteh extent of the ~elf-renunciation demanded by the religious profession. B~it the ambiguity likely to arise from this and similar devout overstatements m.ay make for confusion in the" spiritual life of a religious who is reader to accept every such statement at its face value. In virtue of his profession, a religious enters into an agreement with his institute, pledging himself to seek per-~ ¯ fection according to the plan of life adopted by the same organization. The institute, on its pa.r~t, assumes certain obligations to be discharged in favor of the religious. Hence, the institute enjoys rights and the subject enjoys rights.~ ¯ The superibr, vested with the authority necessary to direct the activities of a community, is us.ually the custodian if need be, the defeiader of the rights of the.ii~stitute. The rights and duties of both superiors and subjects often need elucidation. The present article i~ directly con- -cerned.only with the rights of subjects. A brief explana- 0 tion of.the notion of a right will be followed by an indica-tion of the.sources bf the rights enjoyed by religious. The addition of a few illustrations will, we hope, clarify the explanation. What Is a Right? A right is a power to do or to possess something. It "is also said to be a title or a claim excluding interference on 85 JAMES E. RISK Rbuie~ [of Religious the part of others. One may-lawfully possess a house because he. has some title or claim-establishing his exclusive ownership of it. Perhaps he has bought oro inherited it. The purchase or the bequest gives him the title or claiin to it. ~ It is his. Or again, his claim or title may extend to some #piritual object, some imponderable, such as his reputation, a possess!on not to be ravaged ,by the tongue of the d~trac-tor.~ His person, too, is to be trei~ted with respect. To these rights or claims there corresponds the d.ut~l on the part of others not to interfere with their peaceful enjoyment. Hence, one is obliged not to pillage his neighbor's home, nor to.maim him, nor to blight his good. name by irrespon-sible gossip: Sources of the Rights of a Religious . All will readily a~dmit that in virtue of the act of self-surrender formulated in his vows, the.religious relinquishes his right to the independent use of material things; he sol-emnly- forswears the consolations.and the pleasures natural to the married state; most of his actions are, at least implic-itly, under the supervision of a superigr. Yet, after this abdication from the empire of self, the religious still retains some inviolable possessions. This residual dominion of. rightssprings principally from a threefold source. The natural law itself endows each child of the"human race with certain rights. Canon law extends this charter still, further. Lastly, this endowment of spiritual possessions is aug-mented by rights granted by the constitutions of the indi-" vidual ins~itu.te. In other words, a religious truly pos-sesses an.-aggregate ofhuman rights, a spiritual dowry emsatayb ilnicsihdeedn tbayll yG°o rde'manadrk H, tihs arte penretrsaennctaet iivnetos roenl iegaiortnh .d Woees-not imply ~he forfeiture of civil rights, though the exigen-cies of cloister'life may impose'some limits on,their exercise. 86 March, ¯ A BILL OF R~GHTS FOR ¯R~LIG~ous Be it remembered~ that neither the possession~npr the !egitimate.exercise of one%rigbt need be'detrimental to spir-i( ual progress. We may add too ttiat, while one may respectfully, insist on" the exercise Of his right, the actual manner in .which this right is exercised may be determined by the rule or by the competent superior. ~ , Examples of Rights from the Natural Law On profession day, a religious does not renounce his right to ~food and shelter or to the proper care of his health. While the precise manner in which these rights are, to" be reaiized is subject to the prescriptions of common life as indicated by canon 594, § 1, or to the special provisions of - superiorfi, the basic riglqt to the means of sustaining life and health remains. Brother Jbhn, fc;r example, requires the immediate attention of a dentist. The superior gives him permission [o visit Dr. Will, the community dentist; but "Brother John prefers, the ministrations 6f his personal friend, Dr. Albert) The superior in the. interests of com-- mon life insists on the community doctor. B~bther John, unresigned to the superior's decision, voices, his opinions about the violation of his rights to proper medicat or dental attention. "The natural right of the Brother to appropriate health measures has been r.espected by the superior. - He is not obliged-to make an.y purely personal concessions desired ¯ by a .subject. -- Recreation,~ in"quality and quantity becoming a reli- "greiloieuvse, tihse r teeqnus_irioend obfy c ltohiest enro lrimfe aaln dintod irvepidaiura tlh ein d aomrdaegre dto. cells of human temperament. To some kind of genuine relaxation, the religious has a strict right, a right often explicitly-incorporated into the gonstitutions or the legiti-mate customs of the institute. Entrance into the cloister doesnot imply, the forfeitur.e 87 JAMES E. RZS~ -~ Review for Religious. ¯ of one's" natural right to his good name. " A co-religious acquainted with his brother's transgression has the obliga-tion to forego the wanton dissemination of it among members of the same community. Even the public denun-ciation of a secret fault can~be the means through which an offending religious loses his reputation in the ey.es of the community. The censorship of one's correspondence, as an antidote .against Worldly contagion, is freely conceded by the reli-gious "of many institutes. Immune from this ,censorship is the correspondence destined for .or received from certain authorities mentioned in canon 611. To provide enter-tainment for others by making the contents of a relig!ous' correspondence the subject of recreational gossip would "be an infringement of the natural right to secrecy enjoyed by the. religious. The seriousness of such an offense would be commensurate with the gravity of the matter revealed, or with the degree of pain and humiliation, experienced by the writer, or with the resultant diminution 6f Cbnfidence in superiors, not to mention the disedificati0n in.evitably to follow. : - Rights from Canon L~W. ' The religious is noli only vested with nature's rights, but the Church through the medium of canon law clarifies and extends nature's grant. The special dignity of the religious state demands rev-erential treatment; it furthermore calls for immunity'from .the obligation of military service and from arraignment before-any but an ecclesiastical tribunal. These rights are derived from canons 614, 119, 120, 121., A novice has the right to choose freely the adminis-trfitor oi: his prdperty and to assign the revenue accruing, .from the same to the beneficiar~ of .his own choosing ~accdrding to canons569, § 1. 88 A BILL OF I~,IGHTS FOR RELIGIOU~ By.reason of canon 530, § 1, no moral pressure may be employed to extract the manifestation of c~)nscience from a religious. - Unless his condition was fraudulently concealed before his profession, an ailing religious has the right to remain in his institute by the disposition of canon 647, § 2, 2 ° The exclusion of a religious with temporary vows from renovation, or from the. final profession, for other than ~just motives would constitute a violation of the right extended to such a religious by canon 637. A right familiar.to all religious women is that embod~ led in canon 522, whereby a nun or Sister, in order to insure her peace of conscience, may seek the ministry of the occasional confessor. The favor of this.law is to be sought in a reasonable manner, however. Reason demands that this right be exercised without the threatened collapse of religious discipline, or the entailment of extraordinary expenses. While shopping, for example, a Sister may take advantage of her presence outside the convent walls to con-fess in some church along the route. This is her right; it is the corresponding duty of the superior not to impede the enjoyment of this right, nor to make inquiries in the mat-ter. Rights Conferred by~ Constitutions It would, of course, be impossible to give a detailed out-. line of the rights conferred or determined by the various reli~i6us institutes. However, worthy of particular men-tion here is the right to a reasonable amount of time and opportunity to perform with satisfaction one s spiritual duties. The very nature of the religious.life demands this; and every religious institute at least implicitly guarantees it. A schedule of teaching, study, or other activities that habitually absorbs the best time and vit.ality of a relig[o.us, leaving but fragmentary moments for the fulfillment of the o JAMES E. ~RISK Review for R~ligiou~. duties,most .proper. to his vocation, is an encroachment on the fundamental ~ight of that religioias, to avail himself of the ordinary means necessary to his spiritual well.-being: . . Another right that calls for more than passing mention is the right on the part of the religious to appeal or t9 have recourse from the decision of a lower to the judgment of a " higher superior. For example, canon 647, § 2, 4° gives to the dismissed religious of. temporary~ vows .the right ~to appeal to the Holy See, Specific provision for recourse in other matters is made in many ~nst.itut~es. Customand everi reason itself approve of this remedy. For the existence of this right is necessary for the harmonious "ftinctionifig., of . any organization. Like the judge_in a court of appeal, the -higher superior, artier a re-examination of the 'case, will-overrule or sustain the decision Of the lower superior. Appeal to a higher saperi0r generally supposes that the lower or local superiorhas already been app.,roached _by the subject for a reconsideration of the order: A reversal of ¯ decision by the local superior will eliminate, of course, the necessity of approaching the higher authority. In-some cases; circumstances may determine the imp~r.acticability or impossibility.of a reconsideration by the localosupe.rior. In exercising .his right of recourse, the religious should make as complete and dispassionate a statement as possible, proposing the reasons allege.d, by the local superior for his-refusal to revoke or modify the original decision. Natu-rally, the lower s~perior will be granted the opportunity to presen.t his side of the .case, for the indispensable rule for making an equitable adjustment of disputes is to hear b0tb. parti.es. While the. appeal~ is under consideration before the court of the higher superior,, the subject should comply w~iththe ~rder of the lower superior as far as-pos'sible. To illustrate this right of appeal or recourse: Suppose that .Father Clyde, an excellent litera~y scholar, but~ of, ¸90 BILL OF RIGHTS FOR RELIGIOUS iet~rded scientific growth,' has been assigned by the local superior to'teach.advanced differential equations: To avert an academic disaster and perhaps.a sin against justice, .he asks the. superior to recbhsider the appointmerit, and to readjust the clasg schedule. The'~local superior cannot see his way clear to modify the original schedule. " An appeal to the higher superioris now in order. Since the misplaced professor of .mathematics seems to rest his case on a basis of academic justice, he should present to his ¯ higher superior a complete picture of his scientific incompe-tence. The ultimate decision, favorable or unfavorable to the protesting teacher, would not reflect on his right to file his recours,e. Depending,on the canonical status of the par-ticular institute, a worthy case might find its,way ,to the hands of the superior general. Needless to remark, the.use of the right of appeal should be marked by an absence ~personal resentment; ~ather it should be char~icterized by sincerity and the sweet .unction of religious charity. -To compile an exhaustive list of .the rights of r~ligious, even if it were possible, would be quite purposeless for the present study. The limited, examples already given should suf/ice to lay the retreat ghost: "Religious have no rights!" The Code of Canon Law and the constitutions will reveal re.any others. imitation of Christ A last question. Should a religious, sincerelydor;scious~ of his rights, always tak~ measures¯necessary to insure their vindication, or should he b~ar in silence the further rationing of his already shrunken liberty? Provided' no detriment follows to one's fellow religio.us or to the good ¯ of souls, a love of one's spiritual progress and the desire for a close conformity to the Redeemer .might p~ompt, a reli-giot~ s to bear in silence an act of injustice or the violation Of JAMES E. RISK his rights and to. forego the exercise of his right of appeal: Peculiar circumstances and the advice of an experienced con-fessor will more accurately determine the course to be fol-loWed in a gixien case. To proceed without counsel in these matters is not recommended to young religious. Such then is our brief comment on the religious' bill of rights, the joint bequest of nature, of the Church, and of his own institute--a~heritage directed to guide him in his quest for perfection along the ways of peace. VOCATION BOOKLETS Informational booklets which explain the nature of vocation and describe the work of a particular institute seem to be growing in popuiarity. Most of.them make effective use of photographs and drawings to illustrate the text. The following have been received" in recent months: The Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, ,from St. Joseph's Mother, House, 6400 Minnesota Avenue, St. Louis ~11, Missouri: Chosen Arrows, from the Ursu-line Nuns of the Immaculate Conception, Congregation of Paris, Louisville, Ken-tucky; The Gra~/moor Fathers: An Outline of Tl~eir Life and Work, from the Franciscan FHars of the Atonement, GraymOor. Garrison, New York: B~nedicrins Conuent Life° from Mount St. Scholastica, Atchison, Kansas: _,To Seek God (¯ clear and readable explanation of the "way and goal of the Benedictine Sister"). from St. Meinrad's Abbey. St. Meinrad, Indiana. What Others Haae Done, by Father Howard Ralenkotter. C.P. (Edit.) is ¯ collection of huh~an interest vocation stories;--facts, not fi~tion. Copies .may be obtained from the Good Counsel ~ Club. 5700 N. Harlem Avenue, Chicago 3'1, Illinois, Price: I0 cents (by mail 12 cents). OUR CONTRIBUTORS JAMES E. RIS~( is a professor of canon law at Weston College, Weston, Massa-chusetts. JOHN E. COOGAN,'a professor of sociology at the University of Detroit, Detroit, Michigan, is actively interested in promoting interracial amity. CHARLES F. DONOVAN is a student of' ascetical theology at St. Robert's Hall, Pomfret Center, Connecticut. CLARENCE MCAULIFFE, G. AUGUSTINE~ELLARD, and .GERALD KELLY are professors of sacramental theology, ascetical theology,, and moral theology ¯ respectively at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 'The two last mentioned are iikewise editors of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 92 The Part:icular I::rieridship Gerald Kelly, S.J.- THE novice closed the bOok, le~lned back in his chair, arid looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. He had been reading about the friendship of two saints. It was a warm and ~ intimate friendship; yet spiritual Writers would °surely call it commendable and sanctifying. On the other hand, only. a few days before, he0had heard a talk on "the particular friendship"; and this was definil~ely branded as reprehen-sible for religious and an obstacle to their sanctificat_iori. What is the difference, he mused, between these two types of friendship? Why is one good, the other bad, for religious? How can one enjoy the benefits of~the first while guarding "against the evils of the second? That novice might be any novice. In, fact, the puzzled reader of the account of friendship between the saints might w'ell be a-religious professed for many years. "Experienced spiritual directors say that the qhestion of friendship is a problem for many, if not .most, religious. These dirdctors think that the solution to the problem lies in a proper Understanding of the particular f.riendship; and they are of the opinion that an informative psychological discussion of this-topic would be helpful to religious. The following-notes represent an attempt .to-treat, or at least to outline,_ .the main points involved in understanding the particular friendship and in distinguishing it from what might be called ordinary friendship. What Is the Particular Friendship? ~ .A particular friefidship, ,as the expression is used in this article, is an exclusive companionship bet~veen two persons u~hicb is based on emotional fascination. In explaining 93 GERALD ~(ELLY Reoiew for Religious this definition it may be well at least for the present to limit 6u/selves to some concrete situation: for instance, to a p.ar-ticular friendship between two religious of the same.com-munity; or, even more concretely, to such a friendship between two novices. Later in the article the remarks can ,easily be applied to other situations. The definition I have given is.fi technical one. It is so worded as to exclude certain companionships that are,some-times rather inaccurately ~tyled palticular friendships. The clique, for example, is an exclusive companionship; it is limited to a few and excludes others. And because it is exclusive it is harmful to. common life. But it is not a par-ticular friendship in thestrict sense of the expiession because it is not limited to two persons. Even exclusive" companionships between twb persons are not. necessarily particular i~riendships in the technical sense. For instance, one-,pair of novices may be drawn together simpl.y becaus.e, each dislikes a crowd. Another pair may associate merely because of some mutual hobby a liking for birds, or for flowers, or for some.game or work. .And s~ill another pair may unite for the sole. reason that misery loves company; each is, as the saying goes, "agin the government," and their companionship furnishes, an outlet for this cbntrariness. In companionships like these there seems to be no strong emotional binding force; the exclusiveness appears to be the result of some purely external circumstances. Of course, associations sucti as these can easily lead to emotiona! att_achment; but until they do so,. they are not to be considered particular friend-ships in the sense in which we are now using the expression. In the real particul.ar friendship the precise reason for thi~.excl.usiveness of the companionship is ~motional f~scina-tion. The parties conduct themselves much in the manner of yoiing lovers. The whole pr.ocess of the formation aia,d 94 Match, 1946 THE PARTICULAR FRIENDSHIP. growth of the friendship follows a rather definite psycho-logical pattern. Religious should be acquainted with the psychology underlying this companionship so that they ¯ can protect themselves against tendencies that might other, wise prove very harmful to them. The Adolescent It will help towards a better understanding of the poar-ticular friendship .if we now leave our novitiate s~tting fo~ a time and take a brief glance at the emotional life of the growing boy. (I chb'ose the boy merely to be more definite. Everything that I say here. applies, with the necess~ary. changes of gender, to the growing girl.) In the years just preceding adolescence the normal boy has very likely limited hisclose friendships to other boys and has.had as little-as possible to. do with girls. Girls had no attraction for him, except perhaps to arouse his curl-. osity. But as'the weight of adolescence settles upon him things'change. He finds girls mysteriously charming, very; attractive; he wants to please them, and he seeks to be a 'hero in their ~yes. Perhaps, even in the very early years of adolescence, he experiences what is popularly called "puppy love"; he might, in fact have this romantic experience rather frequently. Usually, though not always, these youthful romances are of short, duration. There may be great emotional exhilaration for a time; but it.~ is easily exploded, like a child's balloon, and normally has .no severe lasting effects. But as the boy moves on into the upper years of ad£- le~cence, it is quite normal for him tocenter his attraction on one girl; and this .experience, though it follows the same pattern as the earlier cases of "puppy love," is more pro-found: It is this more matured experience that I want to analyze here--to observe its usual manifestations, its origin; 95 GERALD KELLY " ~ Review for Religious and its purpose. If you were to' ask a young man how he happened to fall in love with a certain girl, he might, be unable" to tell you. And if he could tell' you What had suddenly caught his attention ;and captured his heart, his answer might be: ¯ it was the" color of her eyes, the wave of her hair, the way she danced, the special musical quality of her voice-- all apparently trivial things. Or it might, be a word of sympathy, a word spoken in his defense, an impression of great virtue--things of greater significance. It is~ditficult to analyze this first step of falling in love; it is to a great extent mysterious. But the reaction to that first stimulus is not so mysterious. " The boy's heart is captured---riveted, as it were, on that one girl. The thought of her tends to absorb his mind; spontaneously he desires to share with her his thoughts, his wi~hes, his dreams, even his prayers. She has'become the center of his emotional life to the exclusion of other girls; and he wants a similar place in her affections. Hence he burns with jealousy if another boy enters into the picture. ,. ~ Of course, the .boy who falls in love still retains his affedtion for his parents, for his b~others and sisters, and fo~ his boy friends. He may still have a friendly liking for many other girls. But over all these affections--dominating them, as it .weremis this one distinctive attraction. If the girl he loves is absent, he suffers torture, oHe feels .dissatis-fied; he finds it hard to study, to do his work, even to be pleasant to others. He seeks some satisfaction in ,the posses-sion of little souvenirs, is inclined to telephone, to write frequent and effusive letters, and so for, th. When with his beloved, he is overjoyed. He wants to express his affection in sweet owords, in kissing and cares-sing. Incident~ally here lies the great dange~ to chastity in ever the purest courtship. It may be that these manifesta- -96¸ THE PARTICULAR FRIENd)SHIP tions of affection are joined with the deepest revere',nce; yet they tend to'heighten emotion, and thus to increase in fre-quency, ardor, and physical intimacy. It is easily seen that if the girl reciprocates the boy's affection, the natural result of the ~u.tual exclusiveness and intensity of,their companionship is a. complete assimilation of interests.They tend to have the same likes and dislikes. They want to share everything--from the prosaic act of munchi.ng the-same sandwich to the exchange of the most delicate secrets. In a word, their affection locks their hearts together; each is con_vinced that this state of affairs will las.t forever, and each craves a complete oneness with the other. They want to blend and share their entire lives. The experience of fallingin~ love is not something occa-sional or extraordinary. It has been happening'through0ut the world since" time was y~oung; it is happening now; and it will go on happening, so it seems, till the end of time. Because it is so common, and because it follows such oa definite pattern, it seems logical to conclude th,at the tend-ency to fall inlove'is instinctive. I do not mean that every-one h-as the experience; many factors can intervene toblock off the ~actual experience. But I do mean that, - speaking generally, .we all-have this tendency, an instinctive tend-ency; and if that is true, it must come from God, and He must have a reason for giving it. As a matte'r of fact it is not difficult to find a very good. reason why God should have placed this tendency, in human ,nature. God's plan for the family containsthe explana2 tion. In the divine~ plan for human beings, children are brbugl~t into the world ~is very helpless little things. They develop, slowly; they need the care of father and mother for. a long time. God ev_idently wants the faiher and m~)ther ¯ ,.to live together in the closest intimacy all the days of their lives. This long-.continued life togethe~ invoFces many- 97 GERALD KELLY "~" Revie~v [or Religious [~burdens: iind grav, e :~esponsibilities ~w~irds~ each other and ¯ towards the children: If this kindof,life did not haverits attractive features as Wall as.its b, urdens and responsibili-ties; only the hero~s Would have the courage to embrace.it. " As we know, God does not lay burdens:and responsb biliti~s on humhn nature without also providing compensa-tions. He. creates' e~ery human.being a potential.parent, .and He also gives each certain capacities and instinctive tenden- "c!es that make married life and parenthood not only.bear-able but ~am?a~tive. One of ,these instinctiv~ tendencies is the.!nclinati0n toan exclusive, tender.companionship. This serves as a powerful inducement to marriage; and after mar-riage, iif this mutual tender ¯love is fostered,' it not only pro- ~vides for the dare of the children but also i!ghtens the bur-dens of thelparents, and protects them, at least to some i~Xtent, from dangers that might come from outside the family circle. Applig, ation to N6oices The foregoing analysis 6f falling in love suffices for0i~r present purpose. We have answered the questions .that ~eemed fundahaental. It is t!m,~ noN to retu~rn to our novitiate setting and to apply the conclusions ,of our psychological analysis to the case of a particular friendship among novices. . - The applkation, ~it seems to me, should be fairly obvi-ous. A young man enters the novitiate at just about the tim:~when this tendency towards exclusive em6tional com-panionship is most apt to manifest itself. That it should m~inifest itself is perfectlynatural. On the other hand; the~ atmosphere of the novitiate is not natural; the novice's com-p) ini0nshlp is limited'to members of his own sex. But this fact is not in itself enough 'to suppress the instinctive y,earn-. ingfor exclusive companionship: Strong appetites have a March, 19 4 6 THE PARTICULAR FRIENDSHIP way of asserting themselves; and if they cannot find their normal object; they look for h substitute. The no~ice's tendency .to form a particular friendship seems tO be an unconscious seeking-for such a substitute. That is why ~he .particular friendship exhibits, as was remarked previously, many of the signs of a love affair: exclusiveness, absorbing ¯thoughts, secret meetings; and sentimental demonstrations of affection. Harmful Effects From what has been said it is easily seen how fosteri;ag a particular friendship:has disastrous effects on the religious "life. Its exclusiveness renders well-nigh impossible the practice of that universal and impartial charity which is so impor(an.t for harmony within a religious family and for carrying on apostolic works. The absorption of mired the love-object not only interfereswith study and work, but most of all it prevents the union with God that the life of prayer and other spiritual exercises ought to develop. The third source of danger is the ~.tearning to manifest one's affection, by bmbraces. Ifthese cravings are satisfied a great ~protective barrier to chastity is broken down, and serious sins can result. Moreover, once this barrier is broken by familiarities, it is very difficult to rebuild it. I might mention here that this danger is probably greater in a friend-ship between two women than in a similar friendship between men. Men are protected so some extent by the consciousness that kissing and embraci.ng are not custom, ary among the members of their sex, whereas among women it is more natural to express even ordinary affection in such ways. Embracing, of course, is not the only source of dangeb to chastity. Other little familiarities can also break down reserve and open th~ way to temptatio.n. And even when 99 GE ~RALD KELLY ¯ ~ Review for Religious external modesty is preserved, the emotional friendship can be a source of great disturbance to the imagination. Day,- dreams will not always remain on the spiritual plane. . We can end this enumeration of~ spiritually harmful effects by stating summarily that fosterifig a particular friendship strikes at the .very ro~t-significance of religious consecration. The vows themselves are but means 'of ¯ leading the soul to God; and t~he vow of chastity in particu~ lar is intende~l as a means of giving the heart to God. The particular friendship draws the heart away. Even if it does not lead to actual violations of chastity, it still deprives that vow of the fruit it should naturallfproduce. Not Limited to Novices' The particular friendship~ in the full sense in which we have described it, is hardly of frequent occurrence among religiousl But the tendency to form this association is cer-tainl'y common enough to warrant a thorough discussion of the sub.ject. And this tendency is not limited to novices. In fact, the possible combinations in Which the-part.icular friendship, might appear are quite varied. For instance, two religious of about the same age, both of whom have been professed f3r several years, might form such an attach- -ment while teaching or carrying on some other apostolic -work. The dangers in this case are generally much more grave than they would .,be in the novitiate because of the greater opportunity of indulging_the affection. ~ "Then there is the possibility ofa particular friendship between a young religious (perhaps a novice or a recently professed, religious) and an older religipus. One can hardly overestimate the.possible harmful effects of this relation-ship;, especially for the young religious. Indeed; a very .pr°mising vocationocan be lost in this way. The young religious is unwarily drawn into the affaiL loses interest in 100 March, :1946 . THE [SARTICULAR: FRIENDSHIP ~spiritual exercises, ~ suffers perhaps many grievous tempta-tions against chastityiand at last, with former .high. ideal~ of religious perfection completely shattered, returns to~tl~e world. A~ older religious who would take the i'i~itiative in a companionship of this kind or willingly encourage it would be running a risk of giving grave scandal. Fortu-nately, ignorance excuses from. guilt; 'but such ignorand~ should not be perpetually fostered. 'Again, the particu!ar friendship is not li~hited to the religious family;, an extern may begone of .thd ~parties. For example, it is not entirely uncommon for a pupil to develop what is sometimes referred to as a "crush" on the teacher. If the teacher al~o loses~emotional control, there results the particular friendship of the teacher-pupil~ variety. This topic is usually treated ratlqer thoroughly by ~he psycholo-gists ¯ of adolescence. Many" ad61escents develop these "crushes"; on.their elders. These young people~, we. must remember, arestill in the ~ransitional period; their emo.-~ 'tional life is just developing~ It will go on develop'ing nothing happens to fix it at a childish level. Bu~ ~, long-continued .reciprocal "crush" can fix it at that level: Thus one of the great evils" of ~be teacher-pupil particular fri~nd-ship is the retardatioh of emoti6nal development in" the This is a di~icult ~ituation to handle, as anyone wilt~ admit. In the first place, it may require self-crticifixion for ~the teacher; for religious t~achers are apt to get very lonely. They may ~find themselves spontaneously yearning for affection and attention, especially in times of discourage-ment. The affection of the pupil would satisfy this yearn-ing. But if itis satisfied by reciprocating the pupil's atten-" tions (and much.more so by ta ~king the initiative in seeking attentions) a very harmful-situation arises. The pupil's own emotional growth is stunted, .as we mentioned above; lOl GERALD KELLY Reoie~ for Religious and scandal is given toothers because of the partiality. which is usually shown and because of the 0ut-and-out childishness that a teacher sbmetimes manifests in Such cir-"~ cums~t.ances. Youth have a right to expect better emo-tional control-of us. Yet, even if the teacher's own emotions are perfectly under control, the handling of the adolescent "crush" is a delicate matter. As it is unfair to the pupil for the teacher to initiate these emotional attachments or to respond emo-tionaliy to them,° so it seems equally damaging to deal harshly with such a pupil. The teacher, has to be both objective and kind. L- uella Cole, in her books, Ps.qcholog~/ of Adolescence and The Background for College Teach[ng, suggests three p.~inciples for the teacher to follow on these occasions. The first principle :is one we hive already indi-cated: namely, the teacher should never show emotional interest in the pupil. The second principle is to avoid being alone with the student, especiallY behind closed doors, because it is then that the emotions are most li~kely to riln liot. The third principle-is to pro,vide ,the devoted student (whether boy or girl) with plenty of work. The author suggests such physical ~ctivities as cleaning erasers and washing blackboard.s, and, with special reference to the col-lege student, some mental occupation such as special work. .in the library. It is her opinion that several weeks of these physical .or'mental tasks will be sufficient to cool theardor of the student.1 Her suggestions ~eem very. helpful. The one precaution that might be added here is that in assigning Work the teacher should guard against giving, the appear~ ance of favoritism. Perhaps what I have written about the teacher-pupil attachment was a digression; yet I believe it is not wholly 1Luella Cole: The Backgruond for College Tea__ching,. Farrar ~ Rinehart, 1.940, pp. 164-5 ; Ps~Icholog!l o? Adolescence,'same pub!is.hers, I 942, pp. 147-9. 1-02 THE PARTICULXR =- F~IENISSHIP without pertinence. And the remarks made with reference .to this relationship ~re also¯ applicable to other situhtions in which religious deal with youth. Similar attachmeiats can be formed; similar .dangers .are present; .and similar precau-tions and treatment are necessary. ¯ ¯ We can conclude ~he enumerationof the various'situal tiol~s that might: occasion .a particular .friendship .by ieferring biiefly-to °thd most obvious case, though fortu-nately not the most- common namely the possibilit~ Of ¯ falling in 10ve with a person of the opposite sex, In theii early years of training religious are u~ually prote~te.d from this danger, at least to a great extent,;by the)fact tha~t they do not ass0.cia, te much with externs. Andeven in lat_.er.years, when ~hey. are engaged in works of,the apostolate, they are somewhat piotected ~by the ordinary regimentation and super.vision of their l~ves. They .would be ~sMeguarded grill :.m0~e if .th~.'pr0.~iSi0ns. f0~r ~iois.te~,. comp~fii0hs) eXteiaal reserve, and.so forth, Were alwa~s~rigorouslg 0bserved.But nothing save a.sl~ecial grace of God can protect¯¯ them to¯the point of utter immunity. As human beings, they are alivays susceptible to ~uch attachments. A very realistic .professor of pastoral theology used to tell his seminarians: "In youe priestly lives.you will often h~ve to deal wi~h women. In some cases you will neces.sa.rily. be ai0ne with them. If, on ~he of these occasions, a woman "should ¯burst into tears, do not yield to th~ impulse to dry ~hem for her." This is a rather concre.ge way of saying that bn"e must not let ~impathy'interfere with judgment. EVen spiritual ministries and apostolic words can be very dagger: ous, especially when sympathy plays On the heartstrings. A prudent reserve is always chlled for if one wants to keep his heart where he placed it at th~ time of hisconsecration to God in the Heart of Christ. GERA~LD. KELLY. ., R~eview [.or Religious ¯ Ordinary Friendship. Artier hearing a discourse on the particular f~iendship,'. oa~young religious is apl~ to be~confused. "What does it.all mean?" is his .question, even thofigh unspoken. "Am~I supposed to have .no intimate friends? Must I keep my heart in solitary connnement. The answer ~to such questions, whether spoken or unspoken;" should be very straightforward, T, rue friend-ship is one of the great blessings.of life, and it ~belong~ to religious just as much as to others. Father Tanquerey, after treating ofthe benefits of true friendship, has.the fol- - lowing.pertirient paragraph: The question has been asked whether or hot such friendships should be encouraged in cdmmunitieg.-~It may be feared tlSat .they will be detrimental to the affection which should unite all the mem-bers~ and that~ they .will be the cause of j,e,alousies. " As,suredly, car~ must be taken that such friendships do not interfere with th~ charity due to_ all, that thhy~be supernatural and be kept within the limits set by Sfiperiors. With these provisions, friendship, retains in com- . munities all the advrintages dessribed 'above, since religious as-well as others need the counsel, comfort and protection that a friend alone can give. However, in communities more than elsewhere, all that savors of.false friendship must be avoided with jealous care. (The S~iritual Life, n. 599.) Certainly the lives of religious who 'became canonized saints furnish ample proof that genuine friendship is not at variance with the ideals of the religious life. These saints had intimate friends within their communities and outside their communities, friends among those of t.h, eir own sex ,~nd friends of the 6pposite sex. Moreover, the mere reading of some of their letters indicates that their friendships were warm and affectionate. And we-need not confine ourselves ¯ to the lives of canonized saints as if true friendship were a'i~rerogative "of heroic sanctity. Very likely most religious who are now in-the declining years of life could tell us that- - 104 , March, 19~46 " .~ ~ . :- THE PARTICULAR' FRIEIqDSHIP,-. the~fiieridShips they-have ~formed ha~e been "a sohrqe .gre~it joy~ m their h~es~and of much help, in the Ser)ic&of ' ;~-7-'~God. ~" "~ " ~ ' " )=": ~--~ he.essential difference apparently lies in qualit:y:~on~ kind ~f friendship is good for ~eEgious; ~an0?her "a~ harmful. With'regard tS h~man compafiionship,, th~d~i~i ~.on~ ssnse in which religious must go,to-God alone; iense in which c;mpanionihi0, intimatd compahionsNp,~is ?n ootnly permissibl,e u bt e h u ipf 1. ~ -- ~" - How to Distin uish? . ' how can .one -"jadge:~gether a f)ien ship is jast o~dinary friendship o~ But, "the young rehg~ous will ask; " - . p2r~i~Ul~r friendship? The simples~ way of makmg,tBi~ diStinCtion is to examine a companionship to see,,if it mam~ fest~ the specific ~igns of the particula~ friendshlp. 2 ~ One Sp~c~c characteristic of ~he particular fri~ndshi~ -~ts exclus¢oen~s. Ordmary~fnendsh~p ~snot. eXclus~v~.~ mdy be that,:, because of circumstances or,-because of" one"~s own temperament, he has only one good.friend; bu~.thi~ .,is- not of the, nature of ordinary friendship~ One person can,h ve_many ~ood friends. ~ _ ;:~ :'~:' -, T~d~ exclusive tenddncy of the particular friendshipS" easily~,breeds jeatohs~. The ~fact thh~ One's friend has other' friend~, is resenred.'~ Ordinary. friendship does n6i have this effect:- Irma!lows freedom not only for oneself but for one's fri~ffd in thi choice of other friends. - ~- . .,~ TBe particula) friendship' is marked by-internal absorp:~ .tio~ o~ .,.mind on the ~riend. ., The ~houghts. ~ and affections'~ t"~ . :are;.as ~t were, bounff to one person: . i n t e r,"n ~a,"l ffee~om to :,~:;p~g~,~O~studg, to work, to be with. other do~panions; to rook separano~, ~s hampered, :Or&nary friendship,; on ~e ~h~ hand~ does not greatly interfere witKthis I~sa~at _ does not greatly interfere, because ~t' seems ~to ~'~ ~':- . ~,,- - ~.~ ., " ~, " ,~. "_ ~ 105 . Do ELLY . -- ~ ::that one cain& Without-.qualifi~atio~ apply tO ordinary f~iend~hip the dictum,"'out o~ Sight, ouvof mind.'," E~en :th):tTue~t and mosg s~iritual of fridndships is not~as co~d as that. Perhaps it gogld be more accurate to say that in . paiticgNr friendship ~.internal ¯adjustment ~to separ~tion:~is exVa°rdmanly, d~Ncult,~ whereas, m the case of. the s~mple ~ ~ .u .~r~e'asu:~ it is campara~:~e~y~ ¯ ¯ ~ yaas". . " '. ~, "~ ~ ~ ~ Finally, the tendencg.td manifest affection bg soft wo~dg :;~nd embraces arises spontaneously ~hen a.particular friend- " shi~-is fdstered. This4s ffot a distinctive characteristic o~ ~o~dina~) friendships. It is~ tgue, ~} course, that so~e people are'much more externallg affectionate :' than others; true al~o that a certain amoun~ of external demonstration is :.'.~more natural with women tBan ,~ith.mefi. Ndvertheless; these things are not characteristic ~rks o£ the:, ~i~le friendship: ~n, un~ual-tendency to sgch manife~t~tlons ig ~isign. ~hat sgmething other than ordinary friendship ~S ' mvolvea.~ ~" To sum the matter up negatively: or~ina~friendshi~- doe~ not ifiterfere~ with the common 1)re, with. imparfi~al ;:charity, with prayer,, with the-p~rfprmance of One's du~y,~ .with the prfident reserve tha(must characterize the bearing ~4:-~f religious, Agxin; briefl~ ~ut still negatively: ~n)friend-'~ ~.shi~ ~hich does not interfere with the attainment of r~li- :gibus ideals is a iound friendship. Finally,, m put it' posi- ~tigely: any friendship which helps 9ne to lead ~ gdod ~reli- ¯~ious life i~ not only s~fe and permissible, but actually gi, ft~ Of Gbd. , ~-,[EDf~O~s' NOT~: Our nSxt Kumbtr will contain some, suggestions for b~eaking a p~r~icular friendship ~nd for preventing the formation of on~.] -~- ¯ ~: . rl lan. n ouc a hies. ~ohn =. C6o~dn~ S.~.~ ~ Negroes attack segregation? Why, as they cbnve~t: .~ the color~d, don:t they b~ild for them churches and schools bf .their own? Then when they are all converted,~ interracial 9nderstanding will come of itself." ~ This sincere question from a zealous priest.surely ~omes at the '~eleventh-ho~ r." When law~ both federal- ' and . state are ~anning racial discrimination in public employment and privgte . :industry; when state ~ivil rights bills are making it criminal (evegqn the priest's own state) to make racial discrimiqa tions in hotels, restaurants, and places of public r~sort; when labor ~unions are d~manding that ~no. man's color should deprive him of an ~qual chance, t~ earn his ~ail~ - '~read~this is a late hour indeed for a champion to rise in_ ~ fhv6r of Catholic racial segregation. But the ~uestion has been honestly' asked ~by one wh~ is otherwise the soul 0f .~kindliness; and the voiced query of suCh a one is certainly-~ ~e unvoiced query of many. As the-priest live~ north of~ _ the Ohio River, traditionally the '.'River~30rdan'~ t0 t~e freedom-seeking Negro, we sfiall, frame our reply accord-" ingly. We oppose segregatioa in our Cath01icyhurches and schools because it is unj~st, impious,-~gd scandalbus a bar to the conversion of non-Catholic Negroes, and a cadge-of perversion of the Catholics. _. Such segregation is unjust because, for one thing, it rob~ -~tfie Negro of, self-re~pect. If yogr test of acceptability were - condhct or character or virtae, each might hope one fl~Y t~ q~alify. " But" iLyou~tell h~ that your ban is:o6 all those~ oLhis hne," ~ then the offense is in his blo~d. He Knows.~it .IOI-IN'E. 'COOGAN ' ' " l(evie~,tor Rdi~iOu. ~L .n6t merely that his appearance does not pIeaSe. Negroes , -'~o~ne in all shape'-and Sizes, in all mixtures of blood, imhll ~,shades of .complexion, in all .types of features. Some Negroes are strikingly handsome, far more so surely than. many whites; and yet almost any white c~in at least be. tol- o. erated, whereas no Negro need apply. He knows that ygu draw no such rigid line against members of another religion. Non-Catholic whites are admitted.to ~Catholic institutions. fr~in" whicl~ Catholic Negroes%are excluded. The right" ~eiigion seems less.important than the righ.t race. It is use.- "x ,.less to tell the Negro that acr'ods town somewhere there is a Catholic church for his kind; that mil'~s away ~there,is'a "o schoi~l to which he can send his childrefi. Miles. away, ac'rosg-'railroad tracks and through traffic; miles away, out ~from" St. Luke's parish they may go, past St. Thomas', ,past St. Mark's, past St. Ignati.us~ and St. Ma.ry's,. to find .refuge at last in St. Peter Clhver's or_ St. Benedic~ the.~ ;Moor'.s. " Such mass rejections by a dominant m~jorlty inevit~aMy weaken and destroy self-respec't in a weak minority. How destructive this can be wheff the Church herself se'ems' to" jgin.'in the accusing chor~s. Pope Leo XIII rightly :declared that poverty can so dehumanize that morality ~becomes. inhumanly difficult. Racial bars can be at least as demoralizing; for even a beggar can dream of 0utlivin~." want; but race is an act of. God and is bled in th~ bone. We add that these-~racial bars are not merely unj6st in -that they destroy self-respecl; they are impious in that they., are effective denials of the most solemnl~ proclainied reli- ¯ gio~s truths. If God is the. Father of all, .why must His .children besegregated before His face? ~If all share Adam's nature, Whence comes this special taint of blood? If theS~sn ~f Man is each man's Brother-, whence comes th~ color bar? "A'nd if H~ died eqUally for all, why these pretensions of:the Caucasoid?~ Did Christ's vt am the vine, and you branches" extend only to the lily-_whites? And, in the Mystic_al Body is pigmentation more important t'hafi sanc2 tifying grace?- Christ and His Church have told us_wha~,o~, things count in God's sight; .and race is not among.~he.m.~ The separation of the sons of men into sheep and goats on ~.any other basis than Christ's is a consequence of the ~s~ime di~cisiveospirit that has rent His seamless robe fnto the mulr °tiple tatters of Protestantism. Mother Church has give, n -'both impieties a lille repudiation. Racial segr3gatiori we have called'not merely unjust arid~ ~ impious; i~ is scandalous.in the strictest sense'of the word; it is a moral stumbling ,block and .lock of offense. ~ Few better-class Negroes will listen to'the call,of what ~ee~ms'to them a-white man'.s church. "To. the rrfajority of ~du-" cared Negroes," the President of Howard, their national " urfi'vers~ty, has truly said, "the Catholic ChUrch simp!y does not exist."" The march of grow,ing Negro leade~ship~ i~'seldom towards Rome. In some centers of special Cath- ,~ olic effort the"un, derprivi!eged eagerly~ answer :the call df truth, but the great masses remain untouched. Yet this bar to~conversion is but one 6f the scandals arisihg from. "5~reljgious segregation; of both born. Catholics and converts many find it unbearable to think themselves step-children Mother Church. It is the wildest flight from reality for us to~ imagine-that we can convert and hold the' N~gro through a system df segregated churches arid schools. It-will cost us the ~,loyalty of the race if we t, ry it. The Negro will not tol~ ~erate'a pariah Oosition of untouchability. And even if ~this were not so, where, when, how could we man and-finance an,adequate separate system ofchurches aiid schools? Eyen~, tgX-~,_,upported separate school systems have broken down. Conversion of the race will require all the efforts of the-~ - - "~- 109 .~. ,°~,,~ Boston,- Grand Rapids, oor Indianapolis. The $i~ste~s of : JOHN.~. ~00G~_ N* .~." "" ' - . Review for Religious ~.Whole Church laboring, an~d g[vihg with ,a Willing heart and hand. .Tying our hands behind us through a-policy of segregation means le.aving closed the door of opportunity;_ much, many will be lost; and with what gain? The hao~rement.awi~y from segregation in educatibn and . ~religion is so strbng that the reactionary is hopelessly dated. There is "hardly a~ollege or university in thi~ North, from Maine to California, that professedly, defends the ~olor~bar. .," The haost renowned girl~' scho~ols;: registers of social accept-ability, have their" colored students, sometimes even teadhers> 2Each spring, Negro magazines, pieturg, their scores of degree "~inners, including many Ph.D.'si and these from theooldeg't and~most respected American universities, Catholic schools~ ,~despite a belated start are ralbidly accelerating; .one in a-,bor- . der cityhas raised its colbt?ed enrollment from'-none to more than one hundred in a single year, and announces th~ move_ a complete success. Even our schools for problem childre.n ~:h~Lve fdund it desirable to repudiate any color bar: two at least of the, local Good Shepherd homes, have Ye.c~ntly - opened their doors to all. Boys To~n flung wide its doors from the beginning: As Father Flan~agan explains: ' . ~I know when the idea of a boys~ home grew i~ my miniJ.I never thought of anything remarkable ~bout taking in all of the r, aces affd all the creeds. To me, they are all God's children. -They are.my brothers. They are children 6f God. I must p~otect them to the best of my ability. These Negro boys h~iv-e been just as fine and . decent as the boys of my own race . If I were apastor of a parish. '- whether it was located in the slums of the city or in millionaire row. ~I would follow the same policy. ~- Recently~ a bi-racial "convent for Dominican cont~m~ plat!vies .~as 6pened in Alabama. The Dis.caked c~rmelites have announced:the same Christ-like policy; already the- .,colored spouse Of Christ can find a haven id the Carmel Of i March,?194~ ,~ " " ~ CHRISTIAN ~.U.~ Social ~6ik,, too; ha~ opened their , ~anks: to daughters :" Ybla~k bu~'- beautiful." And a~ ciea'~-eyed Domihi~fin ~Mother General has scorned the mcons~stencF of praying Blessed Martinde~Porres fo~ vocatiofis wh le ~efus~ng raceSisters. , . ~, .~. "~ ", Advocates. of.racial segregation within the Churkh~ ~e recently~ dealt a body-blow through publication, of the.story ':~,of the foundation of the Sisters; Servants of th( ImmacfiL .late Heart of M~ry, at Monroe, Michigan, a handred years a"g doT. W ° f o t h -e t h" r e e~Sh o' u n dfNmegg mo ers w~re-o ro ¯ .-blbo ; bne of these was the first m6ther general,-#ho b~ids~ fair. to become a"canonized saint[ From th~ three m0~her ~ houses' in Monroe, Philadelphia, and Scranton have gon~- forth ~h0usands of cons&rated women giving~,thei.r' all~q ~ervice in the two Americas. Their blue-clad rffnks today number ~h~r~y-seven hundred, truly a princel~ pro0f,0f~th~ ~-fertil~.y of race brotherhood. Among ~the .cle;gy, to~ fibta~e blows are ~eing ~truck at segregation. Father ~ohn La Farge, S[J., is authority for the statement~ that 'the ,[~ardinal-El~t of -New York has ordered tha~_~here color line:draw.n in any institution of ,his archdiocese: Much th~ same statement is made of Los Angeles. " The~e are 9nl f6ur-known ~colored ~iocesan priests at present; bfi~ 'yearother seminaries ~o inter-racial. The~notable-~ucce~ Of N~gro.pries~s already Orddined makes their rapid inevitable. ~T0 the merits and success of tile largest ~in~le ~:~ group 6f these priests~seven ~f "" ~ the.,Soc~ety of ~th e D~i v=ine. Word working within the Lgfayette Diocese--its-bisho# gives~this ~revealing t~stimbny: The enthusiasm.with which they were received, and t~e spiend[~ ~rk~ they~are doing.in the t~ree parishes now entirely "under theirS'~ :dtre~t~on,,slay for.all time t~e groundless and mischievous~yth tha~ he'colored do not care to have pr~esis of their own ra~e fo mihister ~hem~ .JOHN E~ COOGAN. ,~ "Revtewfor~Re! g~ou~, . " '.~he New "England Province of the Society of J~sus.has ~ele~en Colored members from Jamaica. -~e Benedictines ~ . - Colle~ewlle, ~-M~nnesota, have e~ght Negro 'youths- ~n. their ~, seminary, studying for the priesthood. Their c~reers ~lthln- ~t~e~order will be determined.by their abilitigs and interests; -_Lff+t~by any'accident-of race. At least eight~other r~ligious orders and congregatiois .claim ,a share Of the present-one.i. hundre~nd se~en Nflgro seminarians. All thii ~s littf~ in. Lompaiisdh,with _the ~ative clergy .of so-called"'darke~t Affica,".With its three bishops, four hundred and-~fty, priests,-t~ree' hundred and sevefity:fivI Broihers, and~t&O~. .~thbusand nuns;. But America is awakening from" th£:,~ .n~gh~mar~of s~gregat~on and willnot sleep again. ~-~ ~ Th~ battle'against segreg~tio~ must promptly be-won in'~our~schools. From segregated schools; race leadership . continues to come "too little and too late." As a" ~esult,. - through whole vineyards ."branches'"are dying on the Vine.~ ~Meanwhile our many largely lily-white Catholic schooig . are'beiffg-~alled~and-democratic, in sharp contrast to the public schodls which admit all races and colors. And in, "O--~E dul.own~ ranks we suffer from the p61icy~of exclusiveness. :. ? Mutual appreciation co£es only from mutual.knowledge;-.,,) ' ~:and our thildren are being denieff the education to be ha&~ from a~ pers6nal knowledg~ of fellffw Catholics drawn ~ from other'branches of the human race. ~ " " ~ We Catholics must then ~choose betweem segregation~ and thk c0nve~si~n of our thirteenmillion Negroes. We~. a~ "perhaps have 0neor the other; we most surely cannot~'h?v~ :bot~. It~will riot avail ~us to s~y that our racial policy -" mbre liberal tha£ tha'f of any o~her, creed. Since when. ha~ theY"pillar and-groundo~ the truth" ~hought it suCcinCt ~:, merely to ~e a bit more just or more kind than sbme, tag-tag_ ~heresg? S~gregati°h~tmust gR; ~o~_~'There ii neither "nor . Greek-- :'"there- is .~ither gond not~ free: there :is, neither March, 19 ~ 6 COMMUNI~ATIONS ~ale nor. female. For you are all, one. in Christ Jesusi" ~(Galatians 3:28.) " ~ "'The Negro poet'saccusihg query addressed tO Anierica" is addressed as well to our every churc~h and school: How would you have us-Z-as we are, Or sinking "neath the load we bear? Our eyes fixed forward on a star? OF gazing empty in despair? Rising.o.r falling? Men.or things? With dragging.pace, or footsteps fleet? Strong, willing sinews in your wings? Or tightening chains about your feet? . ommunicaffons Reverend Fathers': .~ " . That a Christian.attitude can be cultivated foward the N~gro even in the deep South is a fact proved" by successful attempts which.- have been matle by students of Mr. Carmel Academy, Lakeview, ,New Orleans, in this pha~e of Catholic living. The student actlvi:, ¯ ties in this field of endeavor are given here~ in sketchy form: ,-,, First and foremost, the study of the Mass and the Liturgical Year were helpful means to strengthen the spiritual llfe of the students, which naturally found expression in a more Christian attitude towards all members of the Mystical Body of Christ. In the January, "1936, issue of their school pa.per, Echoes of Car-mel, a first hesitant step was taken by reprinting from the the Inter-racial Review an article, entitled,. "Can Prejudice Be Cured?" by the Reverend J~hn LaFarge,-S.J. This article showed the effects of prejudice and the power of personal example. "Prejudice can be cured if we use our natural reason and the gifts of God wherewith to. cure it:" No reaction sprang from the appearance of this article, which might have l~ad the effect of an atomic bomb inthe racial eldment of the South. ¯Then followed a~.series of articles by th~ student COMMUNICATIONS Review for, Reli#iou's Men-Are Eqtial;" .which-was a de~reloPment of the Manhattanville Resolutions concerning racial prejudice. .Devotion to Blesse.d Martin de Porres, the Negro ~D0minican Br0th'er, was pi~om0ted 'thro.ugh the ~0dality, while the school paper introduced an Interracial C01t~mn in' the December, 1937, issue. This column endeavored '~to instruct the students.in their duties towards the Negro as a member of.the.MysticalBody." On several occasions during, the annual vocation week s~onsored by the school, the Reverend Cl.arence Howard, S.V.D., leading" mem-ber of the Negro Apostolate, addressed the students on the vital sub-ject to most Southerners--the racial-question. The ~reaction of th~ students to these talks was gratifyihg. A Sister of the Holy Family, a Community of Colored Sisters founded in New Orieans, was guest speaker for the monthly Catholic Students' Mission Crusade meeting. Th~ crusaders were edified and voiced their appreciation generously. A soptiomore of Xavier University, a lovely colored student, also addressed ~the Carmel .students during one of their observances' of mission week. She was given a thunde"rous applause, and, together with her companion, an6ther Xavier student, was sh0wfi every -~of c6firtes~ during their stay at Mt.Carme1.~ In the afternoon of that sam~ day, the ~wd Xavier students a~c0mp;inied.eighty Carmel stu-dents to Visit Xavier Univ, drsity;- the 0nly Cathtilic Ufiiversity foi Negroes in-the United States.The visit through Xavier ended in the~ cafeteria where a delightft~l musical programwas enjoyed. Refresh: men~s were ~erved while six Caimel students sat at each tabl~ with Xavier"stu~lent acting as hostess. Here Color was forgotten'whil~ beautiful social contacts were enjoyed between the colored and White students of Xavier and Mr. Carmel: /~nd this was in the deep South! It Was du~ng another' missioia week .ffhen Xavier students of tiae music-department ,were invited to give a."rausical program at Lake-view Caimel. " The sttidents Weredeeply appreciative of the, display of fine ~alent and served a luncfieoh to the visiting Xavier students. -H~re a~ain "c01oi was overlooked and°.dile recognition .was given to high taldnt. " After sch6ol was dismissed that same afternoon, a youhg lady Called, accompanied by her sister Who was a first year student at Mt. Carmel, and said ~he would-withdraw her sister from a school ~ which entertained Negroes. No excuse was offered by°othe school. authorities, nor was any step taken to retain the little first year stu- 114 March, 1946 COMMUNICATIONS dent. It was thought that a student with a spirit of that type Would be better elsewhere. ~.- Dark Symphbny, a life-sketch by Elizabeth. Laura'Adams, a highly talented Negro girl, was interesting reading during.Religion class-- so much so, that one of the students dramatized the book, then" directed the staging of "it by members of the class. The-play was presented for the entertainment of the student body. The spirit dis-played by the players and the audience was very satisfying. Books and magazines w~hich promote the welfare of the Negro are found in the fac,ulty and student libraries. The books arc: Dark .Symphony, Adams: The Dove Flies South, Hyland; ~oi-ored Catholics in the United States, Gillard; Royal~Road, Kuhl; George Washington Carver, Holt; The 'Negro American, Gillard; Marian Anderson, Vehanen; Interracial Justice, LaFarge; Up From iSlavery, Booker T. Washington; ,Negr~ Builders and Heroes, Braw-ley; Street or: the Halt: Moon~ Farnum. The magazines on display are: "Interracial Review, Colored Harvest, St. Au[~astine Mes, sei~ger, The Negro Child, The Catholic Worker, and Twinkle. i This last" is edited by Miss Ora Mac Lewis, a graduate of Xavier University; New Orleans. Sister Consuela, O.Carm. Rev~erend Fathers: While I fully approve the Catholic campaign (especially in the press) to secure for the Negr~ his civil, social and economic rights,. .I cannot help being convinced that the best way of making him a convert to the faith is by personal contact. Nearly all Negro converts have been made exclusively by colored missions and schools. Here is an experiment of seven years' standing. In 1939 I tried to get some chil'dren to attend a Sunday-School arSacred Heart Church in Denver, Colorado. ~ The Franciscan" Sisters offered their assistance. We had an attendance of from 12 to 1 It proved a failure. In 1940 we tried a vacation school in July inthe basement of a house close to the center of Negro population. Our attendarice,was 42, but, the basement was so crowded we had to give up_for lack ,of standing room. In July, 1941, we secured an empt~y .storeroom on East 26th Avenue. We had 103 children nearly all of whom were non- COMMUNICATIONS Catholics. ' For the next three years our efforts met-with equal suc-cess; but'in 1945 we could not find a location in.which to h01d our summer school until the. very last minute. We, finally' obtained a portion of a large empty garage on the outskirLs of the N~gro district. Due .to its location and the delay in obtaining it, we had only 43 children in regular attendance," of whom all but four or-'five were non-Catholic. _ In commenting the 1945 summer school ~e made an appeal to all colored or non-Catholic children by theans of a circular letter. Our summer school is supplemented by a regular adult instruction. Class lasting six m~nths, which meets twice a .week: In 194~ there were eighteen adult converts. Z~he results So far have been the' con-version since th~ year 1940 of five entire colored families, numbering ~rom eight to. ten children each, with their parents, and of more than sixty other cbnversions of adults and children.~ The enrollment in. our palish school now includes sixty colored children. Several .bap-tisms of colored babies have followed as a mattet~ o2 course. /~irchbishop Vehr and a fine Catholic attorney are patrons of the' school. They pay the bills, amounting tO approximately $400.00 a year, including cahdy, ice cream, a yearly, picnic to the mountain, ¯ parks or the Denver city parks, salaries to teachers, rental of clas~- rooms, and the transportation of equipment. A location for a Negro center in the heart of the Negro district has been obtained, and a few. days ago the archbishop informed me that he ig'ready to begi.n building as soon"as circumstances permit. The Franciscan Sisters were originally in charge of the summer school, but for the last several years the'Sisters of Charity have been in charge. [ have one final" observation. It i~ difficult for the priest or sister to approach the adult non-Catholic Negro .on matters of ~ligibn.~ However; we have found as a result of this work that it is easy. to approach these adults through the children. These you.ngster.s, of course," report to ~heir parents what they °have been taught in school and the attitude of their teachers, and as a consequence and in a'sh~rt time the parents themselves visit the schoolmake inquiries, and in many cases enroll ifi the adult education classes. This w'o~k has resulted ~n approximately 125 converts in the last six years and with but one or two exceptions all have proved to be fine Catholics. A. Versavel, S.d. 116 ,od Forgives and Forgets Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. THE meditation on mercy is always one of the .bright hours of the annual retreat. We may not have com-mitted a serious sin at all, but the unknown pitfalls of the° future lie ahead. We are keenly conscious of our-own weakness. We might some day commit a mortal sin. Hence we are glhd to devote some time to the consoling parables of the Prodigal Son or the Lost Sheep; or to the actuaLcases of St. Peter or Mary Magdalene or the Good Thi_ef, "God is ready, even happy, to forgive," That is the purpQr~t of. both parables and case records. Moved by grace we are impressed with the thought and we rise from our colloquy reassured, confident, inspired to greater love by the realiza-tion that God will extend His succoring hand 4f we ever become His enemy. But although this'poignant and lasting consciousness of God's readiness to forgive is the main purpose of the reflection on mercy, we should not overlook a secondary aspect of thi~ meditation. This has to do with the manner in which God forgives sin. When God forgives, He forgives completelt.I. "He casts all our sins to the bottom of the sea" (Micheas 7: 19); when the sinner repents, "his iniquities will no longer harm him" (Ezechiel 33:12); sins may be like scarlet, but repentanc.e "will make them white as snow" (Isaias 1 : 18). God forgives and forgets. "God's ways are not our ways," says the Prophet Isaias. These inspired words are applicable to the sum-total of our thoughts, viewpoints, attitudes, and actions, but they have a very special application here. Most of us are ready to forgive. Indeed, we are obliged to forgive even .thotlgh offended repeatedly. To-this extent we bear a !ikeness to I17 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Revfew for Relfgious God Who is always willing to forgive the repentar~t sinher. But is our manner of forgiving like God's? Is our forgive-ness burnished by the quality of comp.teteness? Do we not only forgive, but forgive so thoroughly that offenses once pardoned.exert no influence upon our future conduct? H~re, indeed, "God's ways are not our ways." We forgive, but we remember. Previous offenses skulk about in the recesses of our minds; and when a fresh offense is committed against us by the same party, the forgiven ones come back with their pristine vigor. We refuse to look upon the latest offense as an isolated fact. it is always a link in a chain; and the wholk chain captivates our imaginations and" stirs up. our resentment when the latest injury shocks our oversensitive. selves. We forgive ;~ but we don't t:orget. Take that unkind remark or act, that .gossiping behind our-backs; that garbled report to a superior. The perpe-trator by a Slight favor, a kindly'attltude, a show of humil- ~.ity wins. our forgiveness. But we feel that our attitude tow.ard him in the future should not be the same as before the offense. Our relations will incline n6t to the lubri-cating, but to the frosty side. It's best to maintain a cool reservd towards such a one. Otherwise he ma~, jolt us with another slight. That's the way we are strongly impelled to act. It's the way we frequently do act; and though this may involve, no culpability, it reveals that our forgiveness was not like God's. It was offered willingly, but it was not complete. We remembered. But perhaps we plead "Not Guilty" here. We do really forgive and forget in single instances. Then just alter the case a bit. Suppose the gossiper continues on with his backbiting. You forgive him once; twice, three tim~s, and oftener. Ask yourself how you reacted to the second and subs.equent offenses. Did you view thdm as separate, segre-gated indignities? Or did you recall offense number one 118 .Ma.¢c~, 1946 . . , . : GOD FORGIVES AND. ~'.ORGI~T$ .when~.-offense number two occurred? And when number. .two occurred, was the. extent of your,displeasure measured ~by number two alon.e or was it enhanced by the remem~ brance of number one.?. Did yo.u ever say to yourself~i:~ter, r.epeated offenses:, "That's the~ straw that broke the ~c~n~el~s :b~ck," 6r ':I. can't .stand.: it. any longer,'.'¯ or (in Hitler's words)'"My patienc~ is exhausted,", or '0'I forgave .him' 0iace an.d he did it again?". Suchexpressions indicate'that our fo.rgiveness is: not complete. Old-offenses ha.ve com~ back to merge~ With. the latest one. Offense :number sever~ is no~ j.ust numberseven.¯ R's number se.ven comblned.withsix of its predecessors. We forgave; but we did'not forget.:We " allowed pardoned offenses to influence our futur~ 'condu&': ¯ But with God it is otherwise. Let us suppose that",~ person, commits a mortal sin. .He has disobeyedG0dW15o ~b~s a right to our service and hence h_eh~is offered~God :~per2_ , sonal insult. This insult deserves two penalties: The first ~ ,is'.eternal. damnation. The.second is a~ temporal punish-ment incurred by xhe misuse of God's~property. Burthe sinner r~pents; 'He goest0 the sacrament~ofpenance, of h~ makes an. act. of perfect contrition intending to og0 'tO" tl6b sa¢rament later~, or perha'ps., he' is not a m~mber .of the Church and so is baptized.' 'His' sin is forgiven. "God remits'the personal insult . and ~ becomes the man's friend: He lifts the threat of hell from the man's path. He takes aCay some, even all, of the temporal punishment according to the perfection of the penitent's dispositions. But that.ii . not the whole story. So far we may appear to act in. a: similar way when we forgive an'offense. However,iet us suppose that the ab.~olved man gOei forth from the: confes: sional and commits another mortal sin, be it of the same or a~ different kind. By thisfresh iniqu~ity, he again is stibjedt to.God's personal displeasure.° ' He als0 deserves hell a~d temporal punishment again, But how about thefor,.me~. 1'19 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review ~¢or "Religions sin already committed? Does it come forth from the tomb again? Does God say to Himself: "I-~forgave that man once. Now he hasbffended me again. I can't forget. His ne~ sin is really a double one. I am personally insulted twice, not once. He deser~,~s a twofold punishment in h~ll, one for the forgiven sin and one for this added one. His temporal punishment for this latest, sin should be double what it was for the former one"? God does no such reasoning. That's the way toe argue . with OUrselves when offenses are repeated. But God for-gives and forget~. Once a sin is remitted, a new sin is not a rung in a ladder. It's a rung all by itself. It's not a warship in a. flotilla. It's a warship all alone on the high sea. .Repentance impels God to "cast. our sins to the bottom of the ocean" never to be retrievedor resurrected again. ~ God's forgivenessjs complete. He really .forgives and forgets.He " refuses to be influeaced by tr.ansgressions which He has pre- ~iously remitted. This is not theological guesswork, It is so certain that many theologians.say it would .be imprudent to doubt it. It is so certain that no arguments brought up against it will everalter it. If we look over those texts in Scripture that have to do withGod's way of forgiving sins, we find t, hat they are all unconditional. God doesn't say:, "I forgive you provided you don't sin-again." He states: "Once you .repent, your former sins will never be allowed to harm you in .the future. I shall cast ~rour iniquities to the bottom of .the sea where nothing can. ever get at them and bring them, ¯ back." That this is God's loving w,ay of forgiving sins is also clear from the manner in which the sacrament of penance is Conducted. All morial sins must be revealed in this tri-bunal, except those that have already been properly' con-fessed, if these former sins came. back to life when a fresh 1-20 March, 1946 GOD FORGIVES AND FORGETS mortal sin is committed, tl~en they H0uld necessarily have to be confessed again. But such is not the case. The sinner is obliged tb accuse himself only of those mortal sins com- - mitted since his last worthy confession. The others, there-fore, have been completely wiped away. God has t~orgotten fhem. If the penitent wishes to mention them, he maydo so; but he is under no obligation whatever. ;Fhis complete forgiveness of our sins is one of God's wonderful mercies. If Hi were small-minded like ourselves, He, would brood over past offepses when new ones are com-mitted. But His 10re is too great. When we repent, we always start again-from scratch. We are never just on parole; for when a judge pe.rmits parole, he forgives but he places a condition. He says: "You are free to go back to your family, to engage in. your work on condition that don't violate the taw again. If you do, you will go back to jail to finish your sentence for your foirner crime and to get an additional term for .your new crime." God never puts the repentant sinner on. parole. But just because God forgets our sins by true repent-ance, it doesn't follow that we should forget them too. Per-haps not1-iing is more profitable in the spiritual life than an abiding sorrow entrenched in our :minds by the thought of past forgiven sins. Such sorrow induces humility, grati-tude, confidence, love, mortification, fraternal Charity, ~and a host of virtues. But if God forgives and forgets, then surely it would be improper for the sinner,ever to woi'r~ about past forgiven sins. That would be to forget the cev tain doctrine of theology propounded in this paper. Such sins have been. cast by God "to the bottom of the sea.i.' True, the sinful acts enter into the historical record of our lives. They were once committed and nothing-can" ever alter ~hat fact. But their recollection should furnish fuel for piety, not for ~inxiety. God forgives and forgets~. 121 ,Our Lady's Lack ot: Fear Charles F. Don.ovan, S.& ~S WE.READ St. Luke's restrained .description of the .~'~ visit made to Mary by the A~rchangel Gabriel, bearing ¯ . the most amazing message ever to reachthe world,, we are apt to pass over a notable feature, of the scene Mary's calmness, her complete lack of fear when Gabriel lighted her ~room by his sudden presence. The. Gospel, to be sure, says Marywas troubled; but this was not fear.of the angel. She was not troubled until he had spoken; it was his message, not his presence, that bothered her. When she had seen him, "she'was troubled [Monsignor Knox aptly says 'per-plexed'] at his word, and asked herself what manner of salutation this might be" (Luke 1:29) .She did not under-stand Gabriel's braving before her and telling her that she was full of grace, that the Lord was with her, that she ~as blessed among women. Her humility made her wonder at these expressions, but she was undismayed by the sudden appearance of an" angel. How unique Mary'~ reaction was and how unparalleled in sacred, history we can gather by recalling the fright, the real terror that seized even very holy peoplewhdn, "lil~e Mary, they .found themselves face to faee ,with an angel. When the Archangel Rai~hael disclosed who he was .to Tobias and his son, "they were troubled, and being seized With fear they fell ,upon the ground on their face" (Tobias 1.2:16). Mary,'s own messenger, Gabriel, appeared to Daniel; and the saintly prophet tells us, "I fell on my face trembling . and when he spoke to me I fell flat on-the ground; and he touched me and set me upright." (Daniel 8:17, 18.). When this same Gabriel stood at the right of OUR LADY'S LAc~ OF FEAR the altar where Zachary was burning incense to God, "-Zachary seeing him was troubled, and fear fell upon hin4'~' (Luke 1 : 12). On Christmas eve, while shepherds of Beth-lehem were keeping watch over their flock, "an arigel of.tlhe Lord stood by them and the glory of God shone round about them and they feared with a great fear" (Luke02:9) On ,Easter morning at the tomb of Our Lord the holy women "were stricken with fear and were turning their faces toward the ground" (Luke 24.:4, 5). We. could enforce this picture "of the normal ~human reaction to.heavenly apparitions by adding othe~ Gospel instances, like the apostles' terror when they dimly saw Christ on the water and when:they heard God's voice at the qZransfiguration; .and there are non-scriptural examplesof fear in similar circumstances, asin the cases of,St. Teresa ~f Avila and St. Bernadette. But even limiting ourselves the scriptural record of the spontaneous human fright at the sight of an angel, we can see that Our Lady's composure in the presence of Gabriel is a detail that is small and almost hidden in'the Gospel record but rich in its revelation of her character. - -Let us not make the mistake of dismissing this.point by saying, ".Why should Mary be afraid of an angel? After all, she.is Queen of Angels and God's Mother, isn't she. In viewing a past event we are always in danger of re~,ding into the minds o'f the people involved our o~n knowledge of subsequent history. When the angel saluted Mar~., she was not the Mother of God. She was not yet Queen of Angels; .or if .you wish to think she was, at least she v~a.s not conscious of it. As f;ir as ~he knew,'none of the glori- Ous titles which were to follow upon the decision she was about to make tould be attri.but~d to her. Her oi:ily title when Gabriel entered the' room was th~ one she told him handmaid of the Lord. i23 CH!~RLES F.'DONOVAN' " Review fo~ Religious, ~ That this young girl--:--for that is what. she. was--~, should beso imperturbable, so much mistress of herself and ~v~°of the situatiffn where-others--saints,~ grbwn men, chos~in friends of God-=-had been smitten to the, ground in fright i~ Certainly a luminous and distinctive fact,, a fact whichthe Holy Ghost has recorded for h~r honor and our instruction. What it revealsabout Mary is no(courage'or fearlessness; "such was her nature that there was. hardly .even a question of exercising the virtue of courfige here-. Rather it seems to-be a sign and a measure of Our Blessed Mother's-spirituality, her pure faith whereby she was habitually alive to supernatural reality and consciously immersed from day to day and,frorfi minute to minute in a sea of the divine presence and goodness and 16ve. It seems as simple .(and marvelous) as this, that Mary was not surprisedoat a visitor from heaven because r~ally and truly, and constantly i. her conversation was there. :The significance of this incident; Our Lady's matter-of~ fact receptionof the archangel and all that it impli~s~-- sanctity, at~home-ness with the worl~ of~ the spirit~ com-plete at-home-ness with God--these are things which we c_arinot~ grasp in a single reading Of St: Luke or by a few .medit~i~ions: Years of spiritual refinement may gNe us a -truer appreciation of the mystery; but I think tha~.the more deeply we probe it, the more baffling and awesome will become the truth that Mary was full of grace. We customarily address Mary as Mother.of God,as our and heaven's Queen, as Mother of Sorrows, as Medi-atrix of All Graces. In otherwords, we habitually think. of Our Blessed Lady as she is after her Eat. But we can also think profitably of her as she was before that da~zling instant. As soon as Gabriel spoke God's proposal, Mary ¯ knew that she was someone special, that She was by God's 124 March, 1946 OUR LADY'S LACK OF. FEAR :grace the most extraordinary of women. B~t up to that moment, thou_gh God loved her as He loved no other crea-ture, she apparently did not realize how much He loved her or"how°mu~h she deserved His love. Dare we hope that Mary's unawareness of impending glory we have, in some analogous way, a figure of all elect souls, who with varying constancy and ardor peer towards God through the mists of faith, little dreaming what blessings He has prepared for-them, until, in a moment, in the twinkling of a.n eye, there bursts Upon them the flood of beatific light and they are penetrated with the undiminishing su.rprise and joy of God seen, embraced, and embracing? Before the Annunciation Mary was already a soul set apart, but she was not conscious of it. She lived an obscure, e~ternally ordinary life, but a life of perfect union with God.~ DeCaussade says, "Mary's reply to the angel, when ¯ all that she said wasFiat mihi secundum Verbura tuum was a r~sum~ of all the mystical theology of our ancestors . Everything in it reduced, as still today; to the purest, the simplest abandonment of the soul to the ~¢ill of God in whatever form that Will might present itself." Before the Annunciafionmbefore that event which suddenly made her the center of history, the core of a new divin~ economy, the hope and channel of salvation--Mary was living from momer~t to moment so totally in the hand of God, so aban-doned to His Will, that each moment was a dress rehearsal for ~her mighty fiat. When Gabriel appeared She was calm and poised, because.this moment was no different from any~ other.-. The content of God's will did not matter, whether it indicated something big or little, marvelous or common~ ,place. Just so it uJas G6d's will--that is what counted.~ So we have a calm little girl looking quietly at .the angel and uttering with the ease of endless practice: "'Fiat mihi.'" 1'25 ¯QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~e~ for Rdig~ous ~ Dear little maid of Israel, truly blessed virgi.n even when not yet Virgin-Mother of God, grant.us somehow to under- Stand, in some way to imitate the unique, the hidden, the Unmeasured surrender to God their brought Him from His flaming home, through Spread clouds of planets, to one , sphere, one land, one heart--.to you, Mary, and tO us. Questions and ,Answers Can we Sisters gain the totles quotles indulgence on the feast of the Most Holy Rosary as it !s granted to the members of the Confrafe;nity'of the Most Holy Rosary by mak;~ng the v;sits in-our own communffy chapel, or must we make the visits in the parish Church? We were told by our pastor that in order to gain these indulgences we must visit the parish church which~has this special privilege. Provided you are members of the Rosary Confraternity, you ~an g.ain the indulgences mentioned in your own community chapel. This is clearl~r stated in the official collection of indulgences,to be. gained by membersof the Confraternity of the Most Holy'Rosary,'published in pamphlet form by the Dominican Fathers at The Rosary Aposto. late, 1909~South Ashland~Avenue, Chica~o8, Illinois. We quote in full: '"Religious Women, all in Colleges, Seminaries, Schools a~id Catholic Institutions who are members of th~ Rosary Confraternity, can gain all the Indulgences which require a visit to the chapel or Church of th~ C0nfr.aternity, if they visit their bwn Church or Chapel (p. 13, n. 3 I, Note H). If a rosary is taken apart for the purpose of restringlng it, are +he indulgences Io~t? Nff, they are not. The indulgences are attached to the beads, not ~to the chain which holds them together. This may be renewed again and again. Individual' beads which have been broken or lost may be replaced (S. Congregation of I~dulgences, Jan. 10, 1839), and this .may be done repeatedly without losing the indulgence on the beads. Nor need the beads be restrung in their original order. ¯ 126 March, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ~0 ,, Is it necessary to recite" a Pateri Ave, and Gloria at each station when making fh_e Way of the Cross, and fo say the same six flmes af the end? Neither "is necessary. ~he S~icred Congregation of Indulgences stat~rd explicitly on 3une 2/ 1838: "The recitation of the Lord's Prayer~and of the Angelic Saluthtion for each static~n of the Way_ of the Cross, as well as the sixfold repetitibn of the same at the end of the stations, is only a laudable custom introduced by certain person.s. It is by no means a condition necessary for gai.ning the indulgence~ attached to the Way of the Cross, as the Sacred Congregation of Indulgences very plainly declared in the ad.monitions to be observed ih making the exeicise of the Way of the Cross, issued by order and with the approbation bo~h of Clement XII, April 3, 1731, and Benedict XIV, May 10, 1742:" The more recent decree imued b~- the Sacred Penitentiary on October 20, 1931, changed the indulgence.s "gr.~anted to this devotion, but did not change the requirements- for gaining them. ~ " II Certain indulgences require as a condlflon for gaining them fhaf a visit b6 made.to "a church or public oratory." Can all religious make this visit in their communlfy chapel, or is this privilege granted only"to-certain instltufes~ Yes, all reI~gious may satisfy the obligation by makin~ the ; isit in their community cbai~el, provided their they can satisfy their obli"- gation of hearing Sunda)? Mass in that chapel. This is stated explicitly in canon 929 of the Code, and applies not only.to religious of both ~exes but also to the laity who lead a community life in ~a boarding school, hospital, institution, and the like. Two condition~, hov,;ever, are lald down: (I) that the community has no church or. public chapel (otherwise the visit must be made there), and (2) that "for gaining the indulgence a visit is prescribed siropl~/.to a churchoor public oratory. If a specific church or public oratory is prescribed for the visit, then it cannot be made. in the ordinary community chapel but must be made in the church or public chapel specified. It m~y be well to note here that various privileges to ~he contrary have been. granted. To mention but two: Franciscan Tertiaries mawr gai.nthe P6rtiuncula Indulgence in their own convent chapels; membersof tti'e Confraternity of the Holy Rosary livifig in community °(both r~lii gious and lay persons such as boarders, patients, inmates of an i ngti- 127 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ~ Review [or Rdi~ious tution) may gain all the indulgences requiring a visit to the Conga: ternlty church or chape~ by making the visits in their own chapel. Wha~ is the exac~ meaning of foundation Masses? .Are ~hese Masseg to be taken care of at ~he motherhouse or at the individual missions? A "foundation for Masses,'" or "funded Masses," is a sum of money given with the intention that it" be inuested and the annual income used as stipends for Masses to be said for the intentions of the donor (canons 826, ~ 3, and 1544, ~ 1). The place where the Masses are to be celebrated depends upon the will of the donor or founder. A religious institute must have the consent of-the local ordinary, given in writing, before it may accept such a foundation (canon 1546, n.l)." .It must likewis~ have the consent of the local ordinary b~fore investing the capital and for every change of investment (canons 533, ~ 1, nn. 3 and 4; canon 1547). Finall%, the religious institute must give an account of the administration of such fohnda-tions to the local ordinary on the occasion of'his canonical visitation (canon 535, ~ 3, n. 2). Undoubtedly the motherhouse is in a better position to administer -such a foundation than a local mission house. But if the will o£the founder requires that the Masses be said locally, and if in such a case it 'is desired to transfer the foundation to the motherhouse for its admin-istration, then permission for the transfer must be obtained from the ordinary of the place where the Masses are to be said and an account must be given to him by the Id'cal superior on ~he occasion of his canonical visitation. Futtffermore, his permission must be obtained for the initial investment of the' foundation and for every change of investment. The modern tendency, at least in the United States, i~ against pecpetaa~ foundations. Hence it would be preferable to have the foundation made for a definite number of years twenty-fiye, or, forty, or at most fifty. Some diocesan statates require this, and the faithful are informed that their wills will be thus interpreted. How much water may be added to holy water in order to "stretch" i~? ~lday hol~ water be diluted more than half and then disposed of,'as it has lost its blessing ? ~ Canon 757 p.rovides for such a method of "stretching" baptisraa! 128 ~arcb, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ ~water (l~y adding less th~n half~of~he quantity on hand). Perhaps one might argue-that, the same method could be fo|lowed with regfird to'ho!y water. However, there seems to be no need for such a pro-cedure since it is so easy~ to have holy water blessed. On.e may dilute holy water more than half and then dispose of it because it has lost its blessing. But this does not seem to be neces-sary since holy water which is no longer suit.fible for' use may be dis-posed of by pouring it into the sacrarium, 14 A youn.g woman off entering religion is already insured in a family insurance policy: besides she has taken out a twenty-year endowment pol- " icy upon which she must still make seventeen annual payments. (I) When it comes to making her will befoPe first'-profession, is she oblkjed to refer to the above facts at all? (2) If no mention of insurance is made in her will,-and the insurance on the endowment policy becomes due, what right has the religious or her community to the money? (3) If her parents keep up the premiums on the family insurance policy, is the religious entitldd' to make any claim on the insurance when it comes due? (4) If the religlous dies before the time when her endowment policy falls due, who gets the insur-ance? (5) If the beneficiary of a life insurance policy should die shortly before .the religious does, so that the latter has no opportunlty.to appoint° another beneficiary before her own death, who gets the insurance money? Life insurance is a contract by which the ir~surer, in ~onsideration of a certain p.remium, undertakes to pay a stipulated sum (6r an. annuity equivalent) upon the death of the person whose'life is insured" to the person (the beneficiary) for whose benefit the insurance is written. In a wide sense any insurance policy which is p~yable to any member of the family" could be called "family insurance." Inca strict sense this term refers to small policies written on young children for small weekly or monthly payments made by their parents. Usually the insurance is payable to the parents upon the death of the child, or,. in the case of an endowment policy, at the expiration of the~ period of the policy. In cases where parents insure their children between the ages of ten to fifteen years, the parent can give the child the right tO change the-beneficiary after he has attained a certain age (usua|ly 1"8 .- to 21), and the policy will be writfen accordingly. Tfaus ~he chil~ will have the right to change the beneficiary automatically upoh" reaching the specified age. Lea~cing aside now the specific form of family insurance expihined Review fo~ Reli~lious above, adults can kake out life ins°urance in one of ~three different ways :~ .either ordin~r.y life pla~i, or limited life .policy, or by endow-ment policy, The ordinary life plan involves paying a premium" annually throughout life: the limited life plan requires~ the p.ayment~ ¯ of a premium for a specified number of years only (for instance, 20 Y~ars), after which no further premiums need be paid, but the ins~ir-~ ance is not payable until after the death of the person insurdd; an endowment policy involves the payment of a premium for a defihite number of years at the expiration of which the insurafice may be col-lected only by the insured either in a lump sum, or in definite annual phyments for a definite number of years.~ Sl4ould the in~ured die befole the expiration of the term of the endowment ~policy, a defini~td sum ~f insurance will be paid to the dir'ect beneficiary .whose name has been written into the Policy. Keeping t'hese geheral ideas in min~l, 'let us now take up the ques- ¯ tiofis "proposed. "(1) Is a novice required t6 mention her insurance pol.ic!~es in the will she is obliged to make shortly before her firgt pro-fdssion of ~row~? The answer is no, since, an insurance policy is a contrhci by which the insurance will be paid automatically to the-be'fi~ eficiary 6f the polic.y upon the death.of the insured person. This - ~.- .-insurance is the equivalent of a- g!~t morris causa, and does not enter-" in-to .the will of the deceased. However, if the novice is to. continue the payments of premiums on an insurance policy during her life-time, she will have to make.provision for these payments when she appoints her administrator and determines what use is to be made of . her annual' income. - She may provide that ~these~ payments be made from her annual incom.e, if that is sufficient to cover it. " ~2) What right has the religious or her community to the insur-ance 0r/an endowment policy when it becomes payable? As regards the religious herself, we must distinguish between the two policies mentioned in question one. (a) If her parents have paid the pre- -miums on the family insurance policy, and have. not grafited th~ reli-gious the rigl~t to change the beneficiary, she has no right to the ~insurance, since it belongs to her pa.rents. If they have granted her this right, and she has changed the beneficiary in her own favor, the insurance comes to her and isto b~ added to her patrimony. (b) In the case of ~he twenty-year endowment policy, the insurance belongs ~o her, provided the religious has made all the payments herself. It is p~rt of her 'patrimOny, and should be reinvested. ~,Thecommunity ha~ no right~ to ahy of the insurance under either 130' ,~arcb, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS policy when it becomes~payable by reason of the expiration of the - term for- which the endowment policy was issued.'~ In case the reli~ gious'w~re tO die before the expiration of the period for which endowment policy had been issue~, and provided° that the community had been written into th~ policy as the direct beneficiary in case of death, then of "course the insurance would go to the community. (3) If. the parents keep up the premiums on the family insurance policy, the religious has no right to claim the insurance when it is due at the expiration of the period for which it was written: but belongs to heb parents ~nless they had given her the right to change the beneficiary and she had done so in her own favor. (4) If the religious dies before the expiration of the twenty years fo~ which her own endowment policy was written, the direct beneficiary gets the insurance. (5) If the direct bene.ficiary of a life insurance policy ~hou!d die Shortly before the death of the ieligious who had taken out the pol. icy, and the latter had no opportunity to appoint another beneficiary or for some reason failed to do so, then the insurance reverts to the. estate of th~ deceased religious, and it would be distributed ~long~.with her other per.sonal propery in conformity with her last will and tes- ~° tament. To avoid such a ,contingency, it is always advisabld to desig- ¯nate in the policy itself a second or contingent beneficiary who will" take the place.of the direct beneficiary in case of his death. " . Supposing that the novice,-because of l~ck of income or for any: other reason, does nor care to keep oup the payments of the premiums _ on her twenty-year endowment policy, she may do one of three, -things: drop the policy altogether; or better, if the'polic~r allows it, take a c~sh value payment based upon the amount which she has alrea.dy paid in: or make an agreement with her parents or witl~ her ,kommunity Whereby either would keep up the payments and collect." the insurance, and then pa); back the amount of money the religious had already paid as premiums up to the time that she turned the pol-icy .ove.r to them. In this last case the parent or community should -be written into the policy as the direct beneficiary in case of death before th.e expiration of ~he endowment policy. In our.hospltal we have a chapel which is frequented byt.he rellglo.u~s communi~.h/, patlen~, and, hospital emplo,/ees. ~Are ,~e ~llo~ed ~o h~ve the Holy Week services in our. chapel? Q.u,~s~to~s ~o/~sw~s " " I~evlew rot l~etigious ' You~ chapel is a se~ni~p'ublic chapel as defined in canon 1188 of the Code. In Such a semi-public oratory or chapel lawfully erected, all divine services and ecclesiastical functions may be celebrated, unless the rubrics f6rbid or the ordinary has made ;ome exception (c.: 1193). The rubrics requi.re that the services-of the last three days of Holy Week be celebrated solemnly, that is, with deacon and sub-deacon. If.~these can be had, you. may have the solemn services in y.our chapel. If only one priest is available you may not have the simplified services (without.deacon and sub-deacon)~unless you get special permis~sion fromCyour local ordinary: " In the case of a paroi:hlal grade and high school conducted by Sisters, there exists a school bank fund from which all the expens.es of the school are " paid. In general, is it permissible to place all profits arising from school activities of various kinds into this fund? In partic.ula;: (I) May the profits of the school cafeteria be.put into this g,ene~al fund? 12) If a gym fee is charged', may what is left over at the end of the_year after expeqses are paid be.put into thls same fund? (3) If a fee is charged for children's, sup-piles-- ink, crayons, and the llke--may what is left over after expenses are ~--. paid.be.transferred to tee cJeneral school fund? (4) May the balance 0t! .~Jepo~;~s made for br~ak~cje ;n the science department be transferred fo ~ ~ the cjeneral school fun~ at the end of the year? This general sch6ol fungi has'no connection with the expenses and receipts of the religious com-munffy. The tuitibn paid by pupils of parochial and d~ocesan scl~oois .iS ordinarily not sufficient to cover running expenses of the school, including upkeep of buildings, furnishings, and other necessary? equipment; hence any profit derived from the pupils could be con-sidered as being given back to them by~p'lacing it in the general school" fund,, as it helps to keep the school going for their'benefit. The .sup-position is; of course, that all such profits are legitimate, and not sub-ject to or.her conditions. (1) The profitsderived from the scho~Lcafeteria may .certainly be put in the general fund, since they must be given back to the pupils in some shape or form to avoid forbidden selling. (2) In the case of the gym fee, there is no question of buying and selling; hence a°profit. may be legitimately derived from such fe.es. !f these fees are charged merely, for the Use of the gym, the profit arising may be used for any purpose; hence it may also be put into the general fund. If the 132 March, 1946 BOO~ REVIEWS express purpose ot: the gym flee is to provide for the upkeep of the. gym and for improved equipment, then the profits should be kept and used for this purpose only. (3) The profit derived from the fee for supplies such as ink, ~crayons, and the like will either be small or large; if it is small,~-it may be added to the common fund; if it is large, that.would be an indica-tion that the fee is too high. The balance should ~b.e kept~ in the ink and crayon fund and used for further supplies to be distributed gratis to the children until the fund.is exhausted, when a new fee may be asked of them. (4) The very nature of a deposit for breakage precludes ahOypos-sible profit from this source. What is left at the end of the year must be returned to each student, since he has a right to it in justice. t ook Reviews JO~N HENRY NEWMAN. By John Moo'dy. Pp. xlv -I-353. Sheed and Ward, NewYork, 1945. $3.75. This life of Newma

Issue 68.4 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Theology and Life Religion; Life Models ,Exemplars of Faith Sharing ,Experience QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©200~ Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~hohc ~pirituah~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 353 theology and life Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance Randall S. Rosenberg sketches how the theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar challenges us to ask whether theology is not simply about understanding, but about an understand-ing that includes aesthetic-dramatic encounters. How You Eat Matters A. Paul Dominic SJ draws the implications from sacrifice, meals, and human eating in the Hindu, Jewish, and Christian traditions that all human eating is truly meant to be a religious act. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 364 379 religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study Patricia Wittberg SC proposes that current religious , congregations consider encouraging social-movement organizations (SMOs) as viable versions for future religious life. Revisiting Religious Identity William P. Clark OMI carefully reflects on how Vatican I! presented religious life and brought a freshness once again to the special vocation offered by God to those consecrated by religious profession. " Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Review for Religious 389 exemplars of faith ~ Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Leo J. Heriot SDB draws upon the experience of St. Paul and of St. John Bosco to show how God may communicate with us, telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 395 On Hilda of Whitby Sister Hilda Kleiman OSB reflects on the origins and spirituality behind her new religious name, Hilda, which means "Battle Maiden." 4O4 411 sharing experience ~ World Youth Day and Religious Life William Prospero SJ describes how World Youth Day promotes consecrated vocations by providing young Catholics with a joyful experience of living the evangelical counsels. Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? Benny Phang OCarm works from an insight from John Paul lI's Theology of the Body to see the complementarity of the vocations of marriage and celibacy rather than viewing them as rivals. 427 432 443 departments ~ ,~ ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms with an Elephant in the Room Book Reviews 2009 Index 339 68.4 2009 prisms I n early January 2009, I was told that I had less than a year to live. As I come to write these reflections in our final issue of the year 2009, I share various reac-tions that have been part of the landscape over the past months. My first response to the doctor's prognosis ff)r pancreatic cancer was that it is a gift to be told that one has so many months to live and that an end is in sight. The doctor, of course, went on to give options. I could have an operation, and it would likely add some months. I could also have the operation, followed by chemotherapy/radia-tion, and it would add some months and likely some years. The doctor wanted to give me some time to think about the options, but I immedi-ately agreed with his own stated preference that I would undergo the operation and follow up chemotherapy. It seemed that medically I was in a place where I should follow the biblical injunc-tion, "choose life." The operation seemed to be successful in removing the visible cancer, and the six-month- long chemotherapy treatment has been an experimental study program including a vaccine that eliminates radiation. I have fin-ished the program as of the publication of this issue. Now I live within a wait-and-see time of measurement and ~esting. Revie~v for Religious November remains a church time to remember the dead and remind ourselves of our own mortality. I have been feeling even more attuned to the reality of my own personal dying throughout these past months so that it is easy to celebrate November liturgy. It is nice to be put "on notice"--which is how I consider the identi-fication of my cancer. The likelihood of dying is just made more real and, as it were, within reach. It allows me time to reflect and pray how I face this kind of time, what attitude I want to take, and how I want to use the time I have. It does not seem fearsome or dark. In fact, it seems full of surprises of how God wants to meet me in unexpected ways, sometimes not initially pleasing to me. I seem to be taught a lot about powerlessness, patience, and the goodness of strangers. I also believe strongly in the efficaciousness of the prayer support of others. Advent is a church time of looking forward to new life and especially of our life forever with God. It con-eludes with Christmas, a celebration of how God, in Christ, enters into our human life, never to let it go. Throughout 2009 with all its medical focus, I have con-tinued to be blessed with finding new life and I again look forward to entering into Advent with greater ¯ appreciation. Christmas will be God's own gift to me of celebrating the gift of human life for however many more months and years God intends. With celebrating Christmas, it is good to remember that we were all born to be living a life forever with God, and that remains my hope too. David L. Fleming SJ 341 The Review for Religious Advisory Board and Editorial Staff wish all of our readers a most blessed Advent and Christmas season. 68.4 2009 RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance theology and life 342 "Ihe Swiss thinker Hans Urs yon Balthasar is something of an enigma. He has been called the greatest Catholic theologian of the 20th century. He is the inspiration behind many believers who understand themselves as "orthodox" or "solid" Catholics. His work has been seen as an example of greater integration of spirituality and theology. He is the author to whom Jon Sobrino SJ refers in his reflec-tions on the "faith of Christ," a controver-sial position which has been criticized by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. His ideas about gender complementarity and women's ordination have angered many. Some scholars, with strong Thomist commitments, have vigorously criticized his Christology and ¯ soteriology. Other scholars besides Sobrino are Randall S. Rosenberg is assistant professor of religion and philosophy at Fontbonne University (a school spon-sored by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet); 6800. Wydown Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63105. Review for Religious beginning to make use of his thought to meet the con-cerns of liberation and political theology. My plan here is not to analyze all these currents. Rather, I intend to look at Balthasar's distinctive ideas about the aesthetic-dramatic constitution of Christian reality. He sees God's revelation, God's self-disclosure, as occurring first in aesthetic and dramatic forms, and he sees Christians as called to be co-actors in this "theo-drama" through liturgical ritual and a distinctive way of living. A Generational Concern Some of my attraction to Balthasar is probably gen-erational. I was born ten years after the Second Vatican Council. Although my childhood was shaped by a won-derful Catholic parish and school, my contemporaries and I still experienced what William Portier has called "the dissolution of the American Catholic subcul-ture." Not that I particularly desire a restoration of the good old days; for many, those days were apparently not so good. But it seemed to me, as I began to read Balthasar, that he was not only restoring something of the Christian vision's rich particularity and oddness, but also pointing out to people how beautifully and dra-matically that vision has enhanced all kinds of human lives, the great variety of saints most eminently. As he writes in Love Alone Is Credible, "Lovers are the ones who know most about God; the theologian must listen to them" (p. 12). It was exciting to discover a thinker who brought into his theology the witness of holy people and great texts not normally found in systematic theologians' reflection: Th~r~se of Lisieux, John.of the Cross, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Dante, to name just a few. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Cbristian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. And yet this same thinker also engaged seriously the thought of Hegel, Nietzsche, and Heidegger. In other words--Rodney Howsare has shown this in his book Baltbasar and Protestantism: The Ecumenical Implications of His Theological Style--Balthasar's theological vision had room both for God's revelation in Christ and for the works of reli-gious- philosophical scholars as legitimate moments in under-standing and present-ing Christian truth. Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. His enviable dis-play of both loving devotion and a critical engagement with modernity prompts me to see him as embodying in important ways the dual task of ressourcement and aggior-namento set by Vatican II. Christian Existence as Theo-Drama The aesthetic-dramatic nature of Christian life is shown in the Scriptures. Moses and Paul experienced, aesthetically, the beauty or glory of God in the burn-ing bush and on the road to Damascus. These aesthetic encounters were also dramatic, and they led to the rest of their lives' being high drama as well. It is a com-mon feature of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures that experiences of God are not just holy feelings; they have a vocational, missionary purpose. The first part of Balthasar's multivolume trilogy, The Glory of the Lord, describes the way we first encounter the phenomenon Review for Religious of divine revelation as beautiful. The second part of the trilogy, Theo-Drama, recognizes that God's revelation is not something we merely look at; rather, we are drawn into the drama of revelation and are called to respond. Robert Barron nicely captures Balthasar's aesthetic-dra-matic emphasis: Christianity--like painting, baseball, and philoso-phy- is a world, a form of life. And, like those other worlds, it is first approached because it is perceived as beautiful. A youngster walks onto a baseball dia-mond because he finds the game splendid, and a young artist begins to draw because she finds the artistic universe enchanting. Once the beauty of Christianity has seized a devotee, she will long to submit herself to it, entering into its rhythms, its institutions, its history, its drama, its visions and activities. And then, having practiced it, having worked it into her soul and flesh, she will know it. The movement, in short, is from the beautiful (it is splendid!) to the good (I must play it!) to the true (it is right). In my own encounter with Balthasar, I have most appreciated his dramatic emphasis. In the first volume of his breathtaking five-volume Theo-Drama, Balthasar gives attention to the drama of human existence by using writers like Shakespeare, George Bernanos, Bertolt Brecht, Eugene Ionesco, and even the American Arthur Miller in a kind of prolegomenon to his understanding of Christian existence as "theodramatic." His range of reference to Christian, non-Christian, and even anti- Christian dramatists is astonishing. He uses the theater to illuminate the risk and gravity of human life, the catastrophes and tensions that constitute our existence, and the finite time span within which we must struggle for the good, under judgment and in the face of death. The theater can offer an opening to people's encoun- 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Theology'$ Relevance 346 ter with revelation. Balthasar's theodramatic approach employs the metaphor of the world stage. As actors in history, human beings share in the Son's mission, under the Holy Spirit's direction. Just as an actor's role in a theatrical drama constitutes a limited part of the play for a particular purpose, the finite lives of persons who share in the mission of Christ, no matter their life span, dis-close meaning that is relevant for the whole of history. On a personal note, I have appreciated Balthasar's dramatic treatment of the tragic in human existence. I have made my own the following remark of Rowan Williams: "What I found in Balthasar's work was an extraordinary depth of contemplative understand-ing, along with vivid awareness of the tragic quality of human existence--the hellishness of humanity and God's involvement in it--which resonated very deeply with me." Ever since I was a child, I have been par-ticularly sensitive to this tragic dimension, a disposition that has been heightened by my wife's daily work with children who suffer from cancer. The problem of evil as it manifests itself in sickness, natural disasters, random acts of violence, war, oppression, and genocide is never far from my mind. The late British theologian Donald MacKinnon, noting that Balthasar rarely treats the horror of the Holocaust directly, adds that "the nervous ten~ion of the whole argument witnesses to the author's passion-ate concern to present the engagement of God with his world in a way that refuses to turn aside from the over-whelming, pervasive reality of evil." Balthasar does not paper over the pathos of the real world, a pathos full of darkness and ambiguity. For him, God, in the incarna-tion and passion of Jesus, "steps to his opponent's side and, from within, helps him reach justice and freedom. Review for Religious Hnitude, time, and death are not negated: they are given a new value in a way that is beyond our comprehension. Indeed, even what is hostile to God, in all its profound abysses, is not abandoned; God does not turn his back on it: it is taken over and reworked." Balthasar never taught academic theology at a uni-versity. He spent many years, however, as a university chaplain. In the Switzerland of the 1940s this kind of work was largely cultural. Balthasar the chaplain spent his time giving lectures, in the evening debating in various student societies, and giving retreats. To borrow John W. O'Malley SJ's useful catego-ries from his Four Cultures of the West, Balthasar's thought more resembles cultures three and four--"Poetry, Rhetoric, and the Common Good" and "Art and Performance"-- than it does culture two--"The Academy and the Professions." O'Malley's remarks on Erasmus could be said about Balthasar: "He felt he could criticize Scholastic theology because he had an alternative to offer: a return to the more literary and rhetorical style of the Fathers. That was the 'ancient and genuine' the-ology, quite different from the 'modern' theology. It was genuine because it was drawn directly from the sacred texts and because it had led to a 'theological life.' It touched the heart and centered on the few truths that were essential to Christianity rather than on the second-ary issues the Scholastics pursued" (p. 160). Balthasar once remarked that his study with the Jesuits, largely in Neo-Scholastic mode, was a "grim struggle with what men had made out of the glory of revelation." He Balthasar never taught academic theology ,at a university. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance 348 ~ "could not endure this presentation of the Word of God and wanted to lash out with the fury of Samson," tear "down the whole temple," and bury himself "beneath the rubble." It is often true that Balthasar's mode of presentation resembles a patristic sermon more than a scholastic treatise. In my recent experiences of presenting papers, giv-ing academic lectures, and doing job interviews, it has become evident that this aesthetic-dramatic emphasis genuinely excites scholars and ordinary laypeople. This emphasis could also be said to be Balthasar's greatest shortcoming as a "systematic" theologian. He is called "unsystematic" by those who argue for the indispens-ability of a more scientifically or theoretically con-structed theology in the manner of Thomas Aquinas. Let me address both sentiments. On the one hand, I am convinced that Balthasar's aesthetic-dramatic emphasis nurtures an appreciation for the inexhaustible mystery that resides at the heart of Christian revelation. He offers a richly symbolic and imaginative approach--one that fosters better Christian living, namely, the dramatic artistry needed for fulfill-ing our own unique missions. That is, his theology can give momentum to the religious feelings and beliefs that help us accomplish good in the particular circumstances of our lives. On the other hand, the aesthetic-dramatic emphasis is not always helpful when one does "system-atic theology" in order to answer the further questions that arise out of one's aesthetic-dramatic, liturgical, or devotional life. Balthasar's theology, besides being eclectic, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let "paradox" be the answer, rather than carefully working out a set of terms and relations and bringing a theo-logical intelligibility to the concrete conditions in which Review for Religious Christians live their lives. One is more likely to find this kind of intelligibility in Bernard Lonergan or Karl Rahner. Let me offer an example. It was my encounter with the writings of Balthasar that helped me discover the "weightiness" of the mystery of the cross. Balthasar is not content with presenting the cross as merely a consequence of Jesus' prophetic stance in the world. It is that, but it is also much more. It contains a vicarious element, which somehow involves Jesus' "taking on" the sin of the human race. Balthasar desires to do justice to a dominant theme in the Fathers, namely, the admirabile commercium, God's "wondrous exchange," with sinners. With aesthetic and dramatic power, Balthasar communi-cated to me the cross's power and centrality. And yet as questions arose--How did Jesus "take on" sin? Did he also take on our guilt? If so, did he also experience a loss of hope and the kind of darkness sinners experience?-- I became less satisfied with his systematic answers (or lack thereof). In my own research I have been more satisfied with a Thomist pattern of explanation (also not without its critics), given contemporary expression in Bernard Lonergan's writings on "Satisfaction" and the "Law of the Cross." Such writings offer terms and relations that can be used in engaging the modern sciences construc-tively. Balthasar has often prompted in me an excite-ment and concern about such theological questions Balthasar's theology, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let ',paradox" be the answer. 349 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance and then failed to give me adequate answers. In his De Verbo Incarnato, Lonergan writes that, if one approaches Christ's passion and death with primarily a "symbolic mentality," where image and feeling predominate, then one is likely to express the meaning of the cross in terms of "substitution" or "satispassion," that is, in terms of Jesus' "suffering enough" for sins. These words do not do justice to the sophistication of Balthasar's approach, but they indicate something about his theological style in general and his theology of Christ's passion and death in particular. In my estimation, because of its dramatic terminology and its reliance on the mystical experiences of Adrienne von Speyr, Balthasar's theology of Christ's passion and death is often unclear and even reckless. I wonder, though, whether this theological question, sparked by the power of Balthasar's presentation, would have occurred to me at all without his help. Balthasar himself was not concerned with meeting the requirements of a technical, theoretical, systematic theologian. He once said in an interview, "My books are not the kind of theology that belongs to the aca-demic guild and therefore they are not particularly suited for dissertations." He remarked, "I have to say that for me the only truly interesting theologians are the saints: from. Irenaeus through Augustine to Anselm, to Bonaventure, or figures that allow the radiation of holiness to show forth, such as Dante or Newman; one could also mention Kierkegaard and Solovyov." A Call for Fruitful Integration My concern goes beyond the question of Balthasar's adequacy as a systematic theologian. I have accentuated his aesthetic-dramatic approach here, but I know there are many other approaches as well. My concern is the Review for Religious shape of Catholic theology in the 21st century and the place of the aesthetic-dramatic style therein. Vv'hat does theology conceived in Anselmian fashion as "faith seek-ing understanding" mean in light of the many theologi-cal styles we have inherited from the 20th century, from what Fergus Kerr has called "the Heroic Generation"? In my discussion of the cross, I have offered a "the-oretical" or "explanatory" challenge to Balthasar's theological style. Let me now say that Balthasar, too, offers a challenge. He makes us ask: Must not theol-ogy go well :beyond understanding to an understand-ing that is aesthetically and dramatically in touch with the joys and challenges of ordinary Christian existence? Shouldn't theology be more attentive to the Mystery that is encountered in aesthetic and dramatic form in our workaday world's prayer and worship? A question remains regarding what to do with the diversity of theological styles we have inherited. R.R. Reno has suggested that "we need a period of consolidation that allows us to integrate the lasting achievements of the Heroic Generation into a renewed standard theology." Let me suggest, without adequate exposition, one possible way forward, a way which has been similarly outlined by Robert Doran SJ. The chal-lenge of this generation is to integrate three 20th-cen-tury theological movements--contemporary Thomism, the ressourcement project of la nouvelle thdologie, and the various expressions of political-liberation theol-ogy. These three movements could be of help (1) in explaining theological doctrines in a theoretical man-ner that is capable of engaging with the natural and social sciences in search of a unity of knowledge; (2) in experiencing and mediating Catholic thought and culture through aesthetic-dramatic forms; and (3) in 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance dealing with concrete human suffering of all kinds in light of the gospel mandate to transform a world in need. Such a grand vision would require sympathetic and critical conversations, the highlighting of comple-mentarities and dialectical differences, and the humil-ity to be open to revision. If such an integration were to occur, it would require doing justice in an orderly way to the richness of being human in the flow of his-tory, that is, being psychological, intellectuall rational, moral, loving, mystical, and worshipful. For this enter-prise Balthasar would certainly not have all the answers, but he would have much to contribute to it. By Beauty Tethered God of the dawn and high noon and of twilight and midnight; God of the tides and the myriad droplets of dew; God of gardenias and larkspur and tulips; by beauty, God,~ tether my being to you. Mary Anne Huddleston IHM Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC How You Eat Matters I fEatthien gti,t lAe sJeoeymous sa Sbaict rpiufizczel.i"n gIn, It hper ompoatstee ra noof tehaetr-: ing, as in every other human exercise or experience, there is surely more to it than meets the eye, or indeed the tongue or any other sense organ. Perception of such impalpable reality may take no time or consume no little time. Communicating that reality, however, normally requires time, and maybe a detour. Anyway, in the present case, the process has been for me an experience of obscurum per obscurius, though at the end it was all darum (clear), bathed in light. "Hindu Prayer: A First for Congress"--that was the title of the news item from India Abroad News Service on 14 September 2000. The news was the historic event of a Hindu priest delivering the opening prayer in the United States House of Representatives.1 The prayer ran as follows: "O God, you are omnipresent, omnipo-tent, and omniscient. You are everything, and nothing A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote for us about dreams in 2008. His address is Aishalton c/o St Ignatius Mission; Lethem P.O.; Rupununi, Guyana (South America). Emaih pauldominicsj@yahoo.com 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters is beyond you. You are our mother and father, and we are all your children." It continued: "Whatever you do is for our good. You are the ocean of mercy, and you forgive our errors. You are our teacher, and you guide us on to righteousness . Today, in this great hall, are assembled the elected representatives of the people of this nation. They are ready to perform their duties. God, please guide them in their thoughts and actions so they can achieve'the greatest good for all." The prayer ended with an invocation from the ancient scriptures of India. "May all be happy, may all be free from disease, may all realize what is good, may none be subject to misery; peace, peace, peace be unto all." The fact of the Hindu prayer in the U.S. Congress was objectionable and even threatening to some. Many others strongly counterprotested. Anyway, the words of the prayer cannot be construed really offensive to any-one, except of course an atheist. As a matter of fact, they breathe the deepest longings of harried humanity hop-ing in the Divinity. The way they are addressed to God smacks of no narrow Hinduism nor any sectarianism for that matter, but an inclusive theism. The God invoked is everybody's God.2 If the Hindu priest had his own traditional or peculiar thoughts about God, in no way does that show itself in his prayer. Even the concluding prayer, taken from the Hindu scriptures, sounds indeed more universal than particularly Hindu. It seems to show that genuine prayer cuts across ,barriers of religion. Everything connected with prayer in Hinduism can-not, of course, be explained thus. There are aspects of Hindu worship that are confined and meaningful only to adherents of Hinduism with its practices and tenets. Even here, however, it is wise to distinguish between what is exclusively Hindu and what is purely religious-- Review for Religious even though in practice the two are generally too inter-twined to detect. We should, however, exercise ourselves in this regard, for we can be surprisingly enriched as Christians and, what is more, find ourselves agree-ably bonded with other sincere believers. For example, though the ritual of sacrifice in various religions is dif-ferent in all of them and likely to distract and distance other people, the faith element in those sacrifices can be heartwarming and edifying to all those who can intuit it. Some reading I did about Hindu sacrifice proved to be quite inspiring. From it I got a sense of the homely and heavenly meaning of sacrifice beyond the altar's formal vesture, furnishings, and ceremony. I have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. I was confirmed in my belief when I found a simi-lar thought in a poet with a Christian background. He shares his vision charmingly and persuasively: Since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship, And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacri-ficed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.3 I have no inkling of how the poet arrived at his vision of profound truth. I can recount, however, my experience in this regard, recalling first the Hindu insight. i have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters A Hindu Adumbration The universe in the ancient Hindu vision originat-ing from the Vedic4 times of 2000 BC consisted of three worlds: the physical, the psychological, and the spiritual manitCesting themselves not as separate but congruent spheres. Fire (Affni in Sanskrit) at the physical level was obviously visible flames, like those burning a sacrificial offering to the deity. At the psychological level it was the mind exercising itself in thinking and knowing. At the spiritual level the same word was a name of God. Given the superiority of the spiritual over the physical and the psychological, the latter two were regarded and grasped as manifestations of the one supreme Spirit called Agrni, extending through the three-tiered universe. "The fire which is the sun, the fire which is the earth, that fire is in my own heart," as a Vedic verse put it pithily. One cannot miss the images of the three worlds: the sun standing for the spiritual, the earth for the material, and the human for the psychological.5 Anyone who is not at ease with this ancient under-standing needs only a moment's thought to see its con-nection with reality. For this a comparison with another religious tradition may help. In the Judaic tradition, physical fire serves the cultic needs of purification and liturgical rituals of offering. Fire that necessarily burns can signi~ blazing anger and, more importantly, the tribulation that cleanses the heart and proves the soul righteous. Fire is predicated of God's own self in theophanies of saving presence, transcendence, and benevolence. God appears as the burning bush and the pillar of fire and indeed as consuming fire (Dt 4:24, 9:3; Is 33:14). God purifies his servants and sets them afire with zeal so that the whole universe may shine in glory. Christian tradition has inherited this entire view Review for Religious and given it its own emphasis. Recall Jesus saying: "I have come to bring fire on the earth and desire that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49).6 Observing parallels in the Vedic and Biblical views of the world, one may see other ones as well. In the Vedic thought, sacrifice involves a conscious perception that the three worlds are bound together as one universe. Sacrifice involves lighting a fire and burning an obla-tion on the altar. The idea behind the ritual is that the spiritual fire that is in heaven is also buried in the earth, and so it bursts forth when stones or sticks are struck. By being burned, the gifts laid on the altar are carried to heaven. The fiery sacrifice returns all that is on the earth to its original source in heaven. The ideal of sacrifice behind this graphic picture is not absent in the Bible. Elijah's successful sacrifice when the prophets of Baal miserably failed (1 K 18:22.-38) comes to mind here. To continue still further with the inner significance of the Vedic sacrifice, as long as sacrifice is performed everything keeps returning to its origin, and human beings find themselves living in harmony with the uni-verse. When people fail in their duty of sacrifice, they interfere with the cyclic rhythm that sustains the world of which they are a part. They use the mountain of gifts without attending to their nature, thereby isolating both themselves and all things from their origin. They violate the law of the universe. But, when sacrifice is duly and gratefully done, it redounds to universal prosperity. This seems reflected in Psalm 50: "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and pay your vows to the Most High." The last element of all sacrifice is perhaps too obvi-ous to be striking: it is eating the sacrificial offerings. What is offered in sacrifice is normally things that peo-ple eat, and so a sacrifice ends as a sacrificial meal. But 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters In the matter of sacrifice, the universal beliefwas that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. who eats in sacrifice? Those who sacrifice, of course. But, as the sacrifice is not offered to themselves, they do not eat alone. When the sacrifice is consumed by fire, it is believed that the deity above consumes it. This understanding is highlighted in the Hindu scriptural verse: "I, the Lord, become the fire of life, and seated in the body I consume the four kinds of food." This passage is certainly obscure for many, though it is for Hindus a familiar verse (vakya in Sanskrit) of the Bhagavad Gita, perhaps the most personal of all their scriptures. Anyway, what it says links human eating with divine eat-ing. In the matter of sacrifice, the universal belief was that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. Similarly, one may well conclude that what humans eat in ordinary meals is at the same rime consumed by "the fire of life," which is none other than God dwelling in human bodies. And so a human meal itself becomes a sacrifice to God. Bede Griffiths, the English Benedictine who, along with other foreign pioneers in India, continued the Indian tradition of ashram (akin to monasticism in the Western tradition), explains the point thus: "That fire, which is in the heaven above and in the earth beneath, is in our own bodies; we offer our food in sacrifice in that inner fire and it is consumed in the fire and surrendered to God again. So a meal is a sacrifice." Here is a subtle move from a sacrificial meal eaten on occasion to daily Review for Religious meals eaten in the joyous, harmonious spirit of sacri-fice. Drawing from another stanza in the Bhagavad Gita, Griffiths concludes that "anyone taking a meal without sacrificing is a thief; this is to take the gifts of God and appropriate them to oneself instead of receiving them as gifts and returning thanks.''7 A Christian Follow-Up Such a thought can startle nominal or profane Christians who have no thought of God whatever when they satisfy their hunger and thirst or overly indulge their tastes. Normal devout Christians accustomed to their routine mealtime prayer may well find more mean-ing in their daily practice. The grace before and after meals will then become the grace of meals as sacrifice. The whole meal from start to finish becomes an exercise and experience of grace, with the grace understood in terms of sacrifice. If sacrifice involves material fire for burning the oblation, daily meals as sacrifice ought to burn with the psychospiritual fire of desire--desire not merely for food, but for the One who gives the food. The Giver of food gives not only the natural and won-derful food and drink, but also the hunger, thirst, and taste buds necessary to enjoy it. Further, through our gratefulness God raises our minds beyond the mean philosophy of eat, drink, and be merry before it is too late. Enkindled by this grate-fulness, we cannot but experience a burning hunger for God. This does not produce asceticism in us so much as refine our taste for the simple, healthy, necessary food that makes for joyous living. At the same time it enables us to find God in food itself.8 This way of eating, that is much more than munching and gulping, becomes a sacrifice by virtue of the prayer surrounding our meals. 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters As St. Paul says, food is for the stomach and the stom-ach for food, and ultimately the body is for the Lord (1 Co 6:13). Sacrificial prayer, then, from hearts burn-ing with fervor for God, rises like incense and raises people's spirits while leaving them contented with their daily bread. It is the very opposite of making a god of one's belly (Ph 3:19)9 and sacrificing to it. This talk is not farfetched or feverishly imagined. It breathes the spirit of Jesus who, being more a mystic than an ascetic, ate with much gratitude to his Abba God and with the childlike merriment of having been blessed. When necessary he gave hungry people food, but he also chided them for not understanding their hunger aright. One may learn a lot from his controversy with them as they were looking for him the day after he had miraculously fed them with bread and fish to their hearts' content (Jn 6). He unveiled to them their own undignified thoughts regarding food and satisfaction. He warned them not to work for food that cannot give life, but for the food from God that gives eternal life. "God's bread comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." Jesus told them that people do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God's mouth (Mr 4:4). Jesus' conduct in eating teaches about meal as sac-rifice. He takes the bread, looks up to heaven where his Abba Father dwells, gives thanks to him, and shares the bread with those around him generously, then pre-sumably eats along with them till finally making sure that nothing that remains goes to waste (Mt 14:19-20). While this pictures partly the proper Jewish uttering of a blessing such as "Praised be thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest forth bread from earth," Jesus portrays more faithfully and characteristi- Review for Religious cally what his Abba intended when he led his people, feeding them with manna and so training them for life. His counsel to his eager listeners on the Mount is not to worry about food and drink. His words are meant to uplift them with the realization of their blessings on any given day, making of it a sacrifice of praise and grati-tude. The same spirit suffuses the prayer Jesus taught people to pray: "Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread" (Lk 11:2-3). Because our daily meals are ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and.uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father, Jesus began his unique sacrifice at an ordinary, if festive, meal, his last meal before he died. And there he bequeathed his new sacrifice in the form of a unique meal. It is with the same inspiration that he spoke of the heavenly life with God as a banquet of communion with God and all God's beloved (Mt 8:11, 22:2). What happens when, thinking of a penitential aspect of sacrifice, we lose sight of the sublime aspect of eat-ing and drinking? One answer is that then we cannot fully engage in the divine mystery of our Christian sac-rifice. We would even act contrary to the spirit of the sacrifice when we are not celebrating the Liturgy for-mally. The Corinthians did this, as Paul reminded them. When they came together for the Lord's Supper, they did not wait for the Lord. Paul says: "When you meet together, it is not the Lord's Supper that you eat. For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal, and one is hungry and another is drunk" (1 Co 11:20-21). To spell out an implication in Paul's words, ordinary human meals should be much like the Lord's Supper. There is or should be etiquette and the spirit of sacrifice in every ordinary meal. 361 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters 362 The Hindu version of what happens when we do not honor the sacrificial aspect of human eating is best illustrated by a Hindu story. A man sought to know from a Hindu priest the greatest being in the universe worthy of a sacrifice. Following the clear instruction, he began offering food to the newly acquired idol in his house. One day he found a rat eating the offering. Inferring that the rat must be greater than the idol, he began making his sacrificial offering to the rat, till one day he saw a cat threatening the rat. So he began mak-ing his sacrifice to the cat. One day the man's wife saw the cat on an eating spree in the kitchen and chased it away with a stick2 Made aware of this greater power of his wife, he began making his sacrifice to her. Then one day, finding the meal she cooked and served too salty, he shouted at her. She quivered at his anger. That encounter made him feel superior to his wife, and so he began to offer food sacrificially to himself. He ate and ate until he died. Can anyone be so foolish? Not in such an obvious way, but most of us are probably about half that foolish. The really wise, of course, would know how to enjoy food and drink while recognizing that they are also part of the grateful sacrifice due to God. There is something beautiful and divine in such sacrifice pervading daily life without formal rubrics and yet illumining the rubrics of the altar. "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:31). Notes ~ There was a similar first occurrence of prayer, this one in Sanskrit, spoken by a Hindu in the Nevada State Assembly on 19 March 2007 and in the Nevada State Senate on 7 May 2007, both in Carson City. See Kaumudi USA-News, March 2007 (front page). 2 Some Muslims, however, would not agree on this. Review for Religious 3 Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 30. 4 The word derives from the Vedas, the earliest Hindu scriptures in Sanskrit. s See Bede Griffiths, A New Vision of Reality (New Delhi: Indus, 1992), pp. 58-59. 6 See John L. McKenzie, Dictionary of the Bible (Bangalore: Asian Trading Corporation, 1998), pp. 277-278. 7 Griffiths, New Vision, p. 61. The verse itself runs thus: "Nourished by your sacrifice, the Gods will grant you your heart's desires. / What a thief is he who enjoys their gifts but gives nothing in return!" (3:12). See Raimundo Panikkar et al., The Vedic Experience (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1977), p. 428. s As Jesus overturned the notion of unclean food in Jewish Pharisaism and declared all food clean (Mk 7:19), he would also declare all food good against what may be called Christian libertinism. 9 Of course, in the Pauline context the reference was to Jewish dietary laws that in Christianity were being superseded, whereas here it is the regrettable exaltation of food for food's sake. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. How do you consider grace before and after meals meaningful to your Christian living? 2. Can you explain that the Last Supper exemplifies for us how our daily meals are "ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father"? 363 68.4 2009 PATRICIA A. WITTBERG religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study More than fifteen years ago, Miriam Ukeritis csJ and David Nygren CM published their groundbreaking study, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States) In it they predicted that religious congregations had only a ten-year window of opportunity before the aging of their current members and the lack of new entrants would render them nonviable. Many resisted this prediction, refusing to believe it. Some spun visions of an alternate (and socio-logically naive) future in which religious con-gregations would expand to include married and single, vowed and nonvowed, Catholic and non-Catholic, male and female, all somehow gathered together under the aegis of a vaguely defined charism? Others, not knowing what to believe, considered religious life's future Patricia A. Wittberg SC wrote about the "recipro-cal identities" of apostolic life and consecrated life in our July-August 2002 issue. Her address remains 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Email: pwittber@iupui.edu Review for Religious something they could do litde about and focused their diminishing energies on their ministries instead. Fifteen years later, for many religious congregations, the window of opportunity appears to have closed. Few if any of their members are under the age of sixty; no one has entered for ten or even twenty years; vocation directors are burned out or depressed. Many members coverdy believe--and some openly argue--that it is use-less and unethical to invite young people to enter. It is for these congregations, especially, that I am writing this article, but I offer it as well to communities which are in less dire straits. I. believe that both could profit from the following alternative. I would like to point out a different--and more sociologically feasible--path for the future of declining religious congregations. I do not see this as replacing traditional religious life--which is thriving on a smaller scale in some (but not all) of the CMSWR congregations in the United States, and on a larger scale in Africa and South Asia. There will always be a place in the church for the traditional model of religious life. But U.S. Catholic culture is no longer as hospitable to this model as it once was. If it were, several hundred, not a few dozen, traditional religious congregations would be springing up in this country, and they would be doubling in membership every decade. Such explosive growth was the norm for religious congregations founded in the 19th century, and it obviously is not happening today. This comparative lack of interest, however, does not indicate that present-day U.S. Catholics are unspiritual heathens. They simply are not attracted to the traditional model. I believe that American Catholicism would be bet-ter served if several other versions of religious life were also available to young Catholics. By"other versions" I 68.4 2009 tVittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. 366 do not mean the lifestyles currendy being modeled by most of the non-CMSWR religious congregations. These are faring even worse than the traditionalist orders in attracting new members. Their charisms are still beau-tiful and, for the most part, still valid in today's world. But they are not being presented in a form that appeals to young Catholics today. Instead, I want to suggest a different strategy for handing on a congregation's charism to a new generation: starting one---or preferably severalmsocial-movement orga-nizations. To explain how this would work, I first need to define a few terms. Broadly considered, a social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. Examples are the civil-rights movement, the women's movement, the envi-ronmental movement, and the right-to-life movement. Each of these movements may con-tain dozens of separate social-movement organizations (SMOs) which focus on particular activities, particular groups of people, or particular issues related to the larger movement's goals. Thus, the environmental movement includes large organiza-tions like the Sierra Club, the Nature Conservancy, and Greenpeace and also many smaller groups that focus on saving the monarch butterfly, cleaning up a local river, opposing the dumping of toxic waste, and so forth.3 There have been religious social movements and, thus, religious social-movement organizations as well. In Review for Religious Protestantism, a succession of social movements called "Great Awakenings" sparked a host of religious revival groups throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, several of which developed into full-fledged denominations such as the Mormons, the Seventh-Day Adventists, and the various Pentecostal churches. In Catholicism, waves of devotionalism swept through both 17th-century France and 19th-century North America,4 spinning off pilgrim-age societies, sodalities, and prayer groups devoted to particular saints, scapulars, or novenas. These were not .religious orders at their inception, but some later did develop in that direction. Other times they simply strengthened the existing orders. I am suggesting that religious congregations con-sciously try to foster something similar today. Most still have one or more members who are passionate about meeting some particular need in today's world, be it sav-ing the environment, feeding the poor, sheltering home-less women and children, providing free medical care to the uninsured, or mentoring the spiritually searching,s Many of these members have already worked out a more or less specific theology to ground their activities and to explain how their passion fits with the congregation's charism. Some have recruited a corps of volunteers to help them in. their work. To paraphrase the famous line from MoliEre,6 they are already "forming a religious SMO without knowing it." However, these passionate members are often less connected to the rest of the con-gregation. For years, even decades, the other members may have left them alone to "do their own thing." But it is only a small step from what these indi-vidual religious are already instinctively doing, for their congregation deliberately to form and maintain several SMOs to enflesh its charism for subsequent genera- 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 368 tions. All that remains is to help each incipient group to articulate its identity publicly, to specify clearly its religious grounding in the congregation's charism, and to take specific steps to ensure its leadership continuity and stable membership. This might simply involve: ¯ Picking a name connected with both the charism of the congregation and the specific focus of the group: "Vincentian Servants of the Homeless," "Franciscan Brothers and Sisters of the Earth," "Centering Pray-ers," and so forth. ¯ Adopting an identifiable sign of group affiliation, for example, a common T-shirt or a medal. ¯ Maintaining a public-relations effort to inform potential volunteers, donors, other members of the con-gregation, and the church at large about the group's existence and to attract them to its mission. ¯ Spelling out the criteria for entering and exiting the group, expectations of membership, and ongoing group governance. Previous evidence indicates that, paradoxically, groups with more rigorous expectations are more likely to succeed than those which demand less of their adherents.7 The first two steps are relatively simple, and may already have been taken. But they are not enough. Unless some provision is made for the continuance of the SMO, it may not survive its founder's retirement. The founding brother or sister may be neither inter-ested in nor skilled at such bureaucratic maintenance activities. For the remaining steps, therefore, a religious congregation may be able to offer valuable help from its communications office (for the third task), and its leadership (for the fourth). The kind of social-movement organization I am advocating may or may not be represented by a con- Review for Religious gregation's associate program. A congregation's associ-ates could certainly be this kind of group--but only if they are organized around a readily articulated spiri-tual focus and/or apostolic activity that distinguishes associate membership from the larger call given to any Catholic. Simply stating that associates are devoted to "living the charism of the founder" is not enough. The more focused the associates' commitment--whether in monthly or weekly prayer/lectio according to the founder's spirituality, or in working on a regular basis with the vowed members in their ministry, or in staffing some auxiliary ministry that complements that of the vowed members--the more my SMO proposal here can be applied to them. Otherwise, an associateprogram will not be sufficiendy distinct from the lifestyle of non-associates to enflesh the order's charism on its own. Advantages of the SMO Model I am suggesting that some congregations--especially those whose members have tacitly abandoned the hope of attracting new vowed members--make a point of acknowledging this and then start to recruit people for their present members' particular SMOs. What would be the advantages of such a strategy? First of all, any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. The future of religious life does not rest with the tired or apathetic, but after a long period of decline many religious now are both. Most congregations have only a few members with the needed passion and enthusiasm. Moreover, these members may not all be focused on the same passion. Some may live and breathe God's call to serve the poor; others may devote their energies to preserving God's 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window Any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately ~devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. 370 creation through environmental activities; still others, with a more contemplative bent, may foster spirituality through centering prayer, pastoral counseling, or reli-gious art or music. A religious order faced with only a handful of healthy and passionate vowed members, each deeply devoted to a different passion, faces a serious dilemma. It can either focus on one of these passions to the exclu-sion of the others (which would be profoundly alien-ating to those left out), or it can try to include all of them (which dilutes the con-gregation's spe-cific identity and its ability to rally its members around a common goal). Either way, a congregation's ability to recruit to vowed membership is weakened if its remaining passion-ate members are devoted to different articulations of its charism, because its overall corporate mission identity will be weak.8 In contrast, enfleshing these articulations in several different SMOs would strengthen a congregation and improve the chances for its charism to survive. Since each SMO's participants are not necessarily vowed to the congregation, it is not only possible but desirable that several could exist under the same congregational "rOOfo''9 The more different SMOs a congregation's members "spin off," the greater the chance that one, at Review for Religious least, will catch fire. As I will argue below, this may then become the seed for the congregation's future. A second advantage of the SMO approach is that it is a sociologically feasible way of incorporating temporary members or inviting specific demographic groups into the congregation's family. The prospect of temporary membership in permanently vowed religious congrega-tions has been discussed for over thirty years without ever coming to fruition.'° This is probably a sign that the concept is unworkable. A host of decisions would need to be faced in a congregation that included both permanent and temporary members: financial expec-tations, for example, or voice and vote in chapters. Maintaining a distinction between the two groups could imply a second-class status for the temporary members; erasing the distinction would depreciate the perpetually vowed members' commitment. Also, there is not now and never has been any indi-cation that large numbers of potential entrants are clamoring for the option of temporary membership in communities with perpetual vows. If anything, the opposite is the case. In contrast, however, various lay movements that are similar to SMOs are thriving in the church--which may be a sign that the model is a more compatible and sociologically viable Way of enfleshing a religious call in today's world.'1 Lay social-movement organizations are compat-ible with temporary commitment. In fact, many actu-ally expect that their members will stay no more than three or four years. Prayer or volunteer groups specifi-cally targeting high school or college students would be examples of these. A recently begun group is the St. Joseph of Arimathea Society--groups of high school students in Cleveland and Louisville who help provide 371 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A final advantage of religious ¯ social-movement organizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. dignified and reverent funeral services for homeless peo-ple, and for murder victims and deceased old and young people whose relatives are too few or too devastated to arrange a funeral themselves. The students provide sing-ers and pallbearers, tend the "potter's field" cemetery, and collect money for flowers and grave markers. More traditional examples of student organiza-tions include prayer groups (Athletes for Christ, rosary or adoration societies) or twinning arrange-ments with a school in a poor area. There is no expectation that the students will remain members of these groups after their graduation, although they may be directed to affiliated adult groups which they may or may not choose to join. A final advantage of religious social-movement orga-nizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. While no data exist on the number of failed attempts that preceded or accompanied the suc-cessful founding of religious orders in previous centu-ries, anecdotal evidence in our histories indicates that at least as many attempts to found religious orders have failed as succeeded. This appears to be true today as well. Of the 97 new religious communities listed in the 1999 Directory of Embrging Religious Communities, 24 had dissolved by 2006, and another 21 had lost members.~2 Founding or truly refounding a religious order is a chancy business, and those who commit their lives to one of these new groups risk losing both financial security Review for Religious and mental/emotional health if they fail. Committing oneself to an SMO carries with it many fewer risks. Outcomes For those religious who are concerned for the pres-ervation of their congregation's charism, forming one or more SMOs could have several beneficial results: ¯ Social-movement organizations may be effective recruit-ment vehicles for vowed membership. With few religious teaching in Catholic schools, most young Catholics have never seen a sister or brother. And few religious inter-act with anyone younger than fifty on a deep or regu-lar basis. How can young Catholics join a lifestyle they know so little about? How can religious invite those they never see? Participating with vowed religious on an ongoing basis in a soup kitchen, a prayer group, or an ecological project will help young people get to know the religious involved--and vice versa. ¯ One particular social-movement organization may develop into the vehide that will carry a congregation's charism into the next generation, after all of the former vowed mem-bers are gone. If so, this would finally realize the inclusive ¯ scenario that the "Transformative Elements" painted for the future of religious life twenty years ago. How could anyone say that a religious charism was extinct if, instead of a small number of vowed religious, an SMO of married, single, Catholic, and non-Catholic men and women were living it out by feeding the hungry, praying a particular devotion, tutoring poor children, or in some other way were bringing the founder's original vision into the 21st century? "Life is not ended, merely changed." ¯ A truly successful social-movement organization will often, however, contain a number of members who do want to devote their entire lives to its vision. It may 373 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window be that these members will not join the original community, but will instead begin a new one. If the first community is still around at this point, their wisdom and experi-ence would be invaluable for the new group. If not, the stories of the SMO's original founder--the sister who started a free clinic in Appalachia, the brother whose soup kitchen mobilized a city to feed the poor--will serve as a template. After all, Frederick Ozanam (the founder of the St. Vincent de Paul Society) lived sev-eral centuries after Vincent himself. St. John Bosco had never met St. Francis de Sales. Throughout the millennium and a half that Catholic religious life has existed, many new religious orders or lay groups have been formed from old templates. SMOs could provide templates of this very kind. Next Steps I believe that social-movement organizations could be useful, both for religious congregations that have given up on recruiting vowed members, and also for more-viable communities that still attract some young people. For the former, it may be the last remaining way they have of passing on their charism to a new genera-tion. For the latter, it may help them attract even more new entrants. The next steps I would suggest to con-gregations wishing to found such organizations--or to foster the ones their individual members have already begun--are as follows: ¯ Take inventory of today's society: What are its deep-est needs or desires? As I have noted previously,~3 the best way to determine these needs is to look at what larger social movements are currently growing. The most pressing social movements reveal themselves by the large number of SMOs they spawn. Are there already Review for Religious a lot of small environmental groups? Prayer groups? Adoration groups? Groups working with the poor? Women's groups? Check out the directory of associa-tions on the Internet Public Library (http://www.ipl. org/div/aon/)to find out. Is there room for another SMO, locally, in this movement? For example, is there a group that the movement currently does not reach, such as Hispanics or high school youth? Is there a new tactic or way of addressing the issue that existing SMOs do not use? Could adding your congregation's spirituality or charism deepen commitment to the social movement? ¯ Take inventory of your congregation: Who are your passionate members? What are their passions? How, if at all, do these passions relate to the charism of your founder? What larger social movements do these pas-sions relate to? Are your community's passionate mem-bers interested in leading or organizing a group to assist them in their work? Or, better, have they already done so? Are other members in your congregation interested in helping them? ¯ What does the group still need in order to succeed? Does it need to expand its pool of potential volunteers? Secure more stable funding? Plan for the founder's retirement? What is the optimum size for the group? Would expansion be good for it--or dilute its unique character? If the latter, can the group's model be "fran-chised" in some way, with separate independent chap-ters in various cities?14 ¯ What assistance can the congregation render? Can your communications office help to publicize the group? Can your vocation personnel and/or associates help locate new volunteers? Does the group need a place to meet? Need mentoring in finances or grant writing? What about retreats or prayer days on the charism? And 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 376 who in the congregation could provide these services? A weakness in any new religious organization is its "liabil-ity of newness," which may lead to mistakes that imperil its very survival. A more experienced mentor could be a tremendous help. It is obvious by now that religious life is at the end of one of the cyclic downturns which have recurred over the centuries. Rather than resign ourselves to our "inev-itable" extinction--and thereby create a self-fulfilling prophecy--I think we should notice that the SMO model offers a way to midwife the new forms of religious life that will thrive and grow in the years ahead. The many permutations of this model already appearing--associ-ate programs, lay ecclesial movements, mixed emerg-ing communities--are foreshadowings, I believe, of an absorbing future. This is true even if most of them fail, as new ventures often do. More will continue to spring up until some "get it right." With their centuries-long experience and the passions of at least some of their vowed members, today's religious congregations could help in this rebirth. Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993). 2 A good example would be the third and fourth of the so-called "Transformative Elements" developed by the joint CMSM/LCWR meet-ing in Louisville in 1989--and cited on pp. 255 and following of Nygren and Ukeritis's book. Supposedly, this is what religious life would look like in the year 2010. In hindsight, it reflects more wishful thinking than any real-world trends for vowed religious life. 3 Fora fuller discussion of social movements and social-movement organizations, see my Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), chap. 4. 4 See Elizabeth Rapley, The D~votes: Women and Church in Seventeenth Review for Religious Century France (Montreal: McGill-Queens University Press, 1990), and Anne Taves, The Household of Faith: Roman Catholic Devotions in Nineteenth Century America (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986), for these waves of devotionalism. s My own congregation has individual sisters--of whom I am extremely proud--deeply involved in all of these activities. 6 Or maybe not so famous--the citation refers to a line from Moli~re's comedy Le bourgeois gentilhomme, in which a nouveau riche man is being tutored in literature and discovers that he has been speak-ing prose all of his life without knowing it. 7 See, e.g., Rodney Stark and Roger Finke, Acts of Faith: Explaining the Human Side of Religion (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), chap. 7. 8 According to the Nygren and Ukeritis study, mission identity is the principal variable influencing a congregation's success (see pp. 97-98). 9 Several religious families have known this instinctively. For exam-ple, my own Vincentian tradition includes, not only the Congregation of the Mission, the Daughters of Charity, and the various Sister of Charity Federation congregations, but also the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Ladies of Charity, Vincentian Marian Youth, the Association of the Miraculous Medal, and the Missionary Cenacle, all of which are move-ment organizations of nonvowed laypersons. Similarly the Salesian family includes, not only the Salesian priests and Visitation nuns, but other vowed religious such as the Sisters of Mary Help of Christians, the Missionaries of St. Francis, the Salesian Missionaries of Mary Immaculate, and the Oblate Sisters of St. Francis de Sales, plus lay groups such as the Association of St. Francis de Sales and the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales. to I am not referring here to societies of apostolic life like the Daughters of Charity, who make annual vows, but rather to including an option for temporary membership in congregations whose members are now expected to make perpetual vows. Moreover, even among the Daughters of Charity, there is the assumption that one's annual vows are really for life. ~' According to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), Emerging Communities of Consecrated Life in the United States (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2006, p. 16), ten of the twelve most rapidly growing new indigenous emerging communities in the U.S. are mixed communities with some, or all, lay members. t2 CAP, A, Emerging Communities, p. 16. 377 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New V~ndow ,3 Wittberg, Pathways, pp. 80-85. ,4 The above-mentioned St. Joseph of Arimithea Society seems to operate through "franchises"--the Cleveland and Louisville chapters appear to be separate from each other. Many.other groups enlisting high school or college students operate similarly. A Sampler of Potential (and Actual) Religious SMOs 1. "Franchised" Youth Groups (local school chapters, perhaps with a national headquarters supplying materials or training) a. Volunteers supporting a local soup kitchen b. A high school or college centering-prayer group c. Group spiritual direction, big brother/sister spiritual mentoring d. Adoration societies, sodalities 2. Ministry Groups (non-age-specific, perhaps linked nationally in a network or association) a. Supporting crisis pregnancies b. Companioning the dying c. Running a women's shelter d. Strengthening marriages 3. Spirituality Groups (may have a centralized head-quarters and/or a youth branch - see #1, above) a. Devotion to a particular saint b. Performance of a particular spiritual practice (Eucharistic adoration, centering prayer, pilgrimages) c. Spiritual mentoring, group spiritual direction 4. Lifestyle Groups a, Simple living b. Intentional communities c. Peace and reconciliation Review for Retigious WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Religious Identity mnthe years following the Second Vatican Council, uch attention was focused on changes in religious life. Much writing and much effort have been directed toward rethinking or reimaging religious life. In light of all that, one might be tempted to say "Enough already!" An old saying has it that familiarity breeds contempt. Familiarity can also breed complacency and neglect. It might be good, then, to look once again at what it means to be a religious, to reflect on our religious iden-tity. Besides the decree on the renewal of religious life, Perfectae caritatis, Vatican Council II also spoke of the role of religious in Lumen gentium, the dogmatic con-stitution on the church. In chapter 6, §44, we read that the religious state "manifests in a special way that the kingdom of God and its high requirements transcend all earthly considerations, bringing home to all people William P. Clark OMI, longtime teacher and administrator, lives at St, Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. 379 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the immeasurable greatness of the power of Christ in his sovereignty and the infinite might of the Holy Spirit marvelously working in the church.'" The council is simply saying religious life gives special witness that, above and beyond earthly values, there is something we call the kingdom of God. While religious life's characteristic witness is spe-cial, it is not exclusive. It is the duty of all Christians to give witness to the kingdom of God. All Christians, be they lay or religious, are committed to living out their baptismal consecration. Emphasis on the common voca-tion of all Christians highlights what is of fundamental importance, the fullness of Christian life informed by charity. That emphasis also counteracts any tendency to draw unfavorable comparisons between the lay and religious states, as though laypersons are somehow sec-ond- class citizens or "children of a lesser God." That broad emphasis on all Christian life is rooted in the most ancient tradition of monasticism. In his masterful study The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers, Louis Bouyer finds certain constants in the literature of monasticism. He affirms them because they were some-what obscured by later developments. One such insight is that the primitive monk did not appear special. Whether by himself or others, his vocation was not considered par-ticular or exceptional. The monk was simply a Christian, a devout layperson who took the most radical means to live the Christian life to the fullest. The monk proposed no other end than to be saved. All his life, the monk asked for no other teaching from his elders than the means of attaining that goal. His fundamental and persistent ques-tion was: "Tell me. How can I be saved?" Two points need emphasis. First, holiness, the fullness of Christian life, is not something reserved Review for Religious to religious, while laypersons are called to something less. Second, religious are to focus on the essential, on the search for union with God, and not see holi-ness as something incidental or distinctive which sets them apart from "ordinary" Christians. Fundamental to religious identity is one's identity as a Christian. It is the fullness of the Christian experience that constitutes Christian identity. There are three major elements in the Christian expe-rience. The first is not distinctively Christian. It is the human preamble. It consists in discovering that human happiness and fulfillment are not brought about by tak-ing. We all start out that way, looking for that certain something or combination of things which, if we could only latch on to it and make it our own, would provide fulfillment. The Christian experience becomes possible once we realize that what we really seek is something or someone to give ourselves to, something or someone greater and nobler than ourself. It is a search for some-thing or someone that will endow our life with meaning and purpose. Finding that something or someone is the beginning of faith as a lived reality. It becomes the basis of all commitment worthy of the name. The second element makes the experience specifi-cally Christian. It consists in finding that greater-than-self reality in the person of Jesus Christ. It is finding in his words meaning for our life. It is finding in his life the pattern and model for our own. The third element is the desire to share what we have found. We want others to find the meaning and purpose that have become our own. We want to live out this meaning and purpose in love for one another. The full Christian experience, then, is apostolic and missionary. 381 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Reli#ous Identity 382 If this Christian experience is not real in our lives, no amount of theorizing about what it is or should be will ever make it so. Furthermore, theorizing will not help much in our lives as religious. If the Christian experience is real, it can be progressively liberating, freeing from all those attitudes of mind and spirit that limit us to operating within the narrow confines of self-ish interests. Like all Christians, religious are to give witness by their lives to the possibilities open to everyone for liber-ation from enslaving attitudes like inordinate ambition, defensiveness, possessiveness, self-pity, and cynicism. The life of religious should also be an active witness to joy, to hope, and to love. The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that peo-ple often try to evade its challenge. In doing so, lay-persons sometimes say that holiness is something for religious and priests, not for "ordinary" persons like themselves. Likewise, religious sometimes find a type of escape through dependence on the system. Religious life involves a kind of system that includes public vows, constitutions and rules, and a goodly number of prac-tices found in the traditions of various religious insti-tutes. We might think just plugging into the system will make us as holy as we need to be. It is easy to just coast along. All too easily we can come to rate as virtue whatever is conformable to our religious surroundings. Custom and routine can so enslave us as to dispense us from personal decision. Of course, custom and routine, as well as the regular practices and exercises of religious life, are also great helps--if we understand and use them righdy. They do not, however, carry us all the way. They reflect the fact Review for Religious that in choosing to be religious we have set the direction of our lives. But they do not guarantee we never lose that direction. The need for ongoing renewal is simply the need to reaffirm, to reset our direction. The human condition is such that nothing can be taken for granted except the constancy of God's grace, of his invitation. Another point on which the council spoke explic-itly is religious consecration. Everyone of the faithful is consecrated to the divine service by baptism. Clearly, in various contexts the word "consecration" has various meanings, causing difficulties to be raised about how this idea applies to religious. In address-ing those difficulties, the council begins by relating religious con-secration to baptism. Religious consecra-tion adds nothing to the baptism's sacramental character. It is, however, in the line of baptismal grace. That grace can be lived in varying degrees of intimacy. The coun-cil speaks of religious as being "more intimately conse-crated to the divine service." That phrase is significant. It does not say "more strictly" or anything that might seem to emphasize some form of legal obligation. What the council points out by those words is that baptismal consecration can be interiorized to a greater or lesser extent by grace and by love. Ultimately, the truth of every Christian life consists in one's baptismal consecration. But God calls people to live out that consecration in different ways. For religious The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that people often try to evade its challenge. 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the call to God's service is more explicitly determined. It takes on a particular form or style. To put that a bit differently, for religious the vital response called for by God's loving initiative is made concrete in a specific and distinctive way. By making a certain explicit profession of the evan-gelical counsels, persons technically become religious. The purpose of such profession is to commit ourselves more explicitly and more profoundly to living our bap-tismal consecration. At one time religious profession was commonly called "a new baptism" in homilies at profession ceremonies. In those days it was not always adequately explained. The council statements revitalized and clarified that idea. In reflecting on religious consecration, it is important to realize that such consecration is the work of God. Virtually every page of Scripture speaks of God's initiative in regard to creatures. Jesus told his disciples: "You have not chosen me. I have chosen you." Passages like that have a particular resonance for religious. It is God who calls religious and consecrates them through the church's ministry. Because it is God's work, religious consecration is permanent. God's choice and God's fidelity are unchanging. God is constant in the grace he offers, in his call. Our challenge is to keep trying to respond generously to that call. Religious consecration represents a special instance of the mysterious interaction between grace and human freedom. Obviously it is essential that those consecrat-ing themselves to God's service be free. At the same time we must recognize that the consecration is ulti-mately God's work. Religious profession has never been considered a sacrament by the church. In recent years many things have been referred to as "sacraments," in a broad sense Review for Religiot~s of the word. In the strict sense, religious profession is not a sacrament. That does not mean, however, that religious profession has no reality beyond the disposi-tion and conduct of the subject. Religious consecration is something accorded to free persons precisely as free. To be received, the consecra-tion requires a personal response to God's call. That response includes certain characteristics. It must be sufficiently enlightened, conscious, and free. A person's intention and the vows which formulate that intention are eminently free acts. Conversely, when the church dispenses from vows, she judges that in reality there was some impediment to freedom in the original profes-sion, something lacking in what was offered for divine consecration. The fact that religious consecra-tion is not a sacrament does not mean nothing more is involved than the liberty of the one making vows. On God's part the engagement is indefectible. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a cer-tain manner of life. Each vocation has its own structure and laws. Those laws are not to be understood as some-thing imposed from the outside. They derive from the very nature of the life in question. To ignore structure and laws proper to religious life would be to think of reli-gious life as funny putty which can take on any shape one gives it. History shows significant variations in the forms of religious life. But, in the last analysis, that life must always be directly related to what is most fundamental in Christianity, the search for God and growth in charity. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a certain manner of life. 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Religious Identity In the Christian understanding of life, the goal is progress in charity. Jesus made it clear that love of God and love of neighbor sum up the whole law. Love gives ultimate value to what we do. That is why religious con-secration is wholly directed towards love of God and neighbor. It is precisely that love which gives the value of consecration to the activity of the religious. The idea that one's activities must continuously be animated by charity is certainly not new. We have heard it countless times in one form or another. Nor is it distinctive. It is true for everyone. By religious profession we are committed to that goal more explicitly, more officially, as it were. On the part of religious, the consecration of one's life consists in using distinctive means for achieving the common Christian goal of progress in charity. My cir-cumstances, my state of life, determine the means that are most appropriate for me. Jacques Maritain offered an excellent definition of means. He said means are the end in the process of coming to be. Thus, at each moment of our journey toward the perfection of love, we make that end real by employing the appropriate means, Perhaps we should emphasize the word "journey." While we hope we are on the right road and we try to keep moving in the right direction, we never reach the end, the perfection of love, in this life. Another way to put that is to say that holiness is not so much a place we arrive as it is the way we travel. Consciousness of our shortcomings and failures makes us reluctant to think of ourselves as holy. A num-ber of years ago Archbishop John Roach of St. Paul, in a pastoral letter on spirituality titled A Friendship Unlimited, offered a valuable insight in this regard. He wrote: "It's a funny thing, but for years I couldn't imag- Review for Religious ine thinking of myself as holy. I was equating holiness with perfection, and I knew I simply didn't have that. It is clear to me now that holiness is the desire to be a friend of Jesus Christ and to surrender my will to God. I may stumble along with that. I have so far--but, so long as I continue a sincere effort toward that goal, I am holy." It might help also to remind ourselves of one charac-teristic of holiness that is often overlooked. It is compat-ible with human frailty. Many stories and most statues of saints give a wrong impression, an impression of otherworldliness that obscures the fact that those saints were real human beings with human faults and weak-nesses. Examples are plentiful. St. Augustine was given to rages. St. Thtr~se of Lisieux had bouts of depression. St. Vincent de Paul, the great saint of charity, was said to be bilious and subject to fits of anger. St. Jerome was aggressive and insulting to persons who disagreed with him. In fact, one of his contemporaries said of Jerome that his malice was such that no saint could live within miles of him. The secret of all of those people is that they never gave up struggling and working to overcome their human weaknesses. They knew what counts is not the triumphant victory of total perfection, but persevering effort. Teresa of Avila said we should strive and strive and strive, for we were made for nothing else. She was right, of course, but the way she said it makes it sound hard. And it is a constant challenge. We cannot gloss over that. But I like the way T.S. Eliot put it when he said: "We are only undefeated because we keep 6n trying." In question 186 of the Secunda Secundae of his Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas treats of things that per-tain to the religious state. He speaks at length of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and argues their ,387 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity necessity for religious perfection. He points out that "a person cannot offer his whole life to God directly because that life is not lived all at once, but only suc-cessively. Hence, a person can only offer his whole life to God through the obligation imposed by vows" (my translation). Thus, our real challenge is not the perfor-mance of heroic acts, however beautiful, however noble, for every human act is by nature transitory. Our real challenge is the heroism of a whole life, offered to God without measure, without reservation, without regret. This is done through religious consecration, through the vows. And in this the entire person, mind and heart, must be involved and permanently involved. Note ' The Vatican translation and the revised Flannery translation, melded. See Lumen gentium, chapter 6, §44: "Regni Dei denique super omnia terrestria elevationem eiusque summas necessitudines peculiari modo patefacit [status religiosus]; supereminentem quoque magnitudi-nem virtutis Christi regnantis atque infinitam Spiritus Sancti potentiam in Ecclesia mirabiliter operantem, cunctis hominibus demonstrat." Ed. 388 Questions for Personal and Group Reflection If religious sisters and brothers are identified with the laity, how do you claim their special religious identity? 2. Has Clark been helpful in underlining aspects of religious identity that distinguish religious life for priests, sisters, and brothers? Would you want to add or subtract anything? Review for Religious LEO J. HERIOT Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Saul was present at the stoning of the lov-able Stephen, and perhaps this increased the Pharisee's desire for Christian blood. Fernand Prat says, "Not content with being present at the torture of the victims, he entered into houses and dragged out the inmates, both men and women, to hale them to the dungeons."' Saul set out on the trail of Christians not to evangelize them but in pursuit of them to bring them to what he thought was justice. He had asked the priests to give him the offi-cial mission to seek out Jesus' disciples in the synagogue of Damascus and drag them before the Sanhedrin. In the Acts of the Apostles we have three accounts of the vision on the way to Damascus (9:1-19; 22:3-21; 26:12-20). It is Luke who makes the first announcement of Leo J. Heriot SDB wrote for us about Margaret Bosco in 2007. His address is now Don Bosco House; PMB Government Buildings; Suva, Fiji-Islands. exemplars of faith 389 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late this event; later we hear Paul giving his own account. The accounts agree on the important points: the occa-sion, the place, the time of day, the dazzling light, Saul's fall to the ground, his dialogue with the mysterious voice, his blindness, the return of his sight, and the total change in his life. From being a firebrand of a persecutor, he became a sower of the Good News of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The whole change of his behavior, his heeding of the strong voice's words, and his subsequent dedica-tion to a new cause make us aware that he was not led by fanaticism or goaded on by personal ambition. Jesus Christ seized him, pulled him close to himself. From the accounts of this conversion, nothing presaged it, noth-ing hinted that the fierce Pharisee would change regard-ing this person Jesus Christ, changing and becoming a disciple of Jesus and a preeminent apostle. Looking at this conversion, one gets the impression that it is beyond human explanation. It would be folly to try to find some simple plausible human causality. Pauline theology gives pride of place to the empow-erment of grace, and Saul was certainly under the influence of grace. It is not possible to explain this con-version apart from divine grace. Paul helps us with these assertions from his writings: "Have I not seen Jesus, our Lord?" (1 Co 9:1). "Last of all, as one untimely born, he appeared also to me" (1 Co 15:8). Grace found in this man fertile soil that would produce a great extension of the stoW of Jesus, a stoW that would make people aware of the immense, unfolding gift God gave to Saul and to the world on Saul's way to Damascus. Saul's encounter with the risen Lord as he sought to obliterate that Lord's message had a huge influence on him. One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound Review for Religious teachings was that of Christians' being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. For this Pharisee, Paul, Christ becomes all in all; Christ becomes everything. This idea is contained in seminal form in the question Jesus puts to the blinded Saul: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" (Ac 9:4). Paul was not attacking Jesus directly; he was defending his Pharisaism by trying to prevent Jews from falling into the ways of this crucified "reformer" of Judaism. In Saul's conversion God's grace is evident, work-ing a transformation immediately. It is like the blinding flash of light. The extraordinary illumination appar-ently brought about Saul's immediate com-pliance with Jesus' words and his swift transformation into a disciple and apostle. The stunned Saul changed his course once and for all. He found himself in a new world, a world almost alien to the life he had lived until then. Paul was overwhelmed by a new faith, a belief in the person of Jesus Christ as his Lord and master. He began a new and demanding life that only a strong and deep faith and love could sustain. He expresses that faith in his Letters to the Galatians and the Romans, an active faith that revolutionizes the whole person and alters the direction of people's lives. From the moment of his conversion the gaze of Saul is riveted on the person of Jesus Christ. We would go too far, however, if we reduced Paul's life to the moment One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound teachings was that of Christians" being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. 391 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late of his conversion. His continuing deep reflection on the mystery of God's love strengthened him as he went about his apostolic life. Our beliefs, too, are not simply the result of our reading or reflection, but come from God's communication with us, often in the quiet con-templation of a Divine Master stretching out his hand to us and telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 392f The Boy from Becchi, Another Man of Zeal In an audience on 21 March 1858, Pope Pius IX, now Blessed, told the priest from Turin: "When you get back to Turin, Don Bosco, you write down these dreams and everything else you have told me, minutely, and in their natural sense. Save all this as a legacy for your Congregation so that it may serve as an encouragement and norm for your Sons.''2 After nine years this same pope questioned him once again. Don Bosco's reply was "I truthfully lacked the time. I was so taken with [any number of things]." The pope said, "Well then, I not only advise you, but order you to do it." Don Bosco promised to write down his early experiences, and he kept his word.3 In his poor handwriting Don Bosco scrawled out his first dream. "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life. I dreamed I was near my house at Becchi, and a crowd of young boys had gathered there to have fun and play games. Some were playing, some were laughing, and not a few were cursing. Shocked by their expres-sions, I jumped in among the boys, swinging wildly and shouting at them to stop saying those things. At that moment a Person appeared among us. He was dressed in a long white robe, and his face radiated such light Review for Religious that I could not look at it. Suddenly he called me by name. 'Giovanni, you have to win these boys not by blows but with gendeness and kindness (bont~). So begin right now to show them that evil is ugly and virtue is beautiful.'" Although these words confused him, this little boy, nine years old in 1824, was being commissioned for God's work. He said, "I am so small and these are young men. What you are asking me to do seems to be impos-sible." But he was told: "What seems so impossible, you must achieve by being obedient and acquiring knowledge." The boy shouted, "You ask me to do the impossible!" The voice said, "I will give you a teacher under whose guid-ance you will learn and without whose help all knowl-edge becomes foolishness." Beside this Person stood the Lady to whom young Bosco's mother had taught him to pray regularly. The Lady, taking his hand, said, "Giovanni, look carefully. What do you see?" The crowd of boys was changed into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and various other animals. The Lady of his dream said to him, startlingly: "This is your field of labor." Then she gave him a one-word recipe for getting these boys to improve: "amorevolezza" (loving concern). The wild animals disappeared, having been turned into sheep. The Lady then told him, "In due time you will understand," and with that she put her hand on his head. At table for morning coffee he told his family about his dream. Each one said something different. His "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life." 393 68.4 2009 Heriot * Encounters Early and Late brother Joseph said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become a farmer looking after sheep and goats, caring for them." His brother Anthony said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become the leader of a gang of ban-dits!" After other such remarks, their wise old grand-mother said in an authoritarian tone: "Giovanni, take no notice of dreams." And Mama Margaret said con-vincingly, "Prepare yourself, Giovanni, for your future apostolate." This, then, is what Pope Pius IX referred to in 1858 when he told Don Bosco: "This is the begin-ning and the foundation of your work. Give this dream to your Congregation and make it a part of their life." On the road to Damascus, Paul was astonished by the voice that changed his life. It had the power to change his life and send him on a new mission. While any comparison of nine-year-old John Bosco's dream to Paul's experience near Damascus would be lopsided, we may remind ourselves that both of them were impelled into a new life, a new apostolate, by mysterious expe-riences beyond usual explanation. Are there not many other divinely wondrous experiences as well? Why not keep them in mind? Notes ~ Fernand Prat, The Theology of St. Paul (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), p. 25. 2 The Biographical Memoirs ofSaintJohn Bosco, ed. Eugene Ceria SDB (New Rochelle, New York: Salesiana Publishers, 1980), vol. 5, p. 577. 3 Ceria, Biographical Memoirs, vol. 1. pp. 95-96. Review for Religious HILDA KLEIMAN On Hilda of Whitby ~ah~na tIr oennt eorre da tfheea msto dnaayst.e Ir yw, Ia hs ando nt orta cisheodse an Catholic, and I was not named after a saint, though I had a lovely name. After I entered, the prioress asked me to choose a patron, and I chose St. Hilda of Whitby. Initially I hesitated to choose her because, generally speaking, we do not know much about her. We know when she was born and died, where she lived, and some of the activities she pursued, activities for which she was well known and respected. But we know little about her character, her spirit, or her inner life. How did the tone of a gathering change when she walked into a room? How did she regard those whose lives and souls were entrusted to her care? Was her glance warm or cool? Did she have a glint in her eye? Answers to these ques-tions seemed permanently unavailable. A few months after I entered my community, I attended a concert given by Festival Chorale Oregon, Hilda Kleiman OSB writes from Queen of Angels Monastery; 840 S. Main Street; Mt. Angel, Oregon 97362. Email: ajkjune@juno.com 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby a local, award-winning choir directed by Dr. Solveig Holmquist. I had been a student in her college choir for three years at Western Oregon University. I was excited to see her again, even from a distance, even from the back as she conducted the choir. When she entered the concert hall, she was as I had remembered--not tall or physically imposing, yet filled with a presence that shot through her spiky hair, her sharp eyes, and her earrings and many bracelets. I saw a woman in full possession of herself and the situation at hand. She stood before the choir and the orchestra, and they knew what to do sim-ply by the movements of her hands and a thin baton. I remembered standing before her with my eyes on every move she made. In every gesture, every expression, she embodied musician and conductor. She made the vocalists and musicians one as we let her lead us--as, with our minds but also our hearts, we let her be our breath to the very last note. When Dr. Holmquist arrived at Western, she had clearly learned how to draw people together. Shortly after being hired, she was told there were no students at Western who could really sing. Given that this was untrue, and even uncharitable, Dr. Holmquist did not listen. She simply set up a table at the activities fair at the beginning of the school year and started signing students up for auditions. By the end of the year, she had set the choral music program on its feet, doubling the size of the choir, planning tours, and establishing a student-led choir council. I began to see that music was Dr. Holmquist's life, and part of that life was invit-ing the rest of us into the music in whatever way was appropriate for each of us. I loved her for it, and I still do. Though I do not think I would have used the word at the time, I see now Review for Religious that what I received from Dr. Holmquist was a deep and vigorous image of vocation. I have no doubt that through the music she is doing what God created her to do. Shortly before I graduated, I tried to say as much to her. In her office one morning, I described what I saw in her. I said I was not a born musician like her, but rather a writer and a reader, and I was looking for my own purpose in life. The day I attended the Festival Chorale concert was November 17th, the feast day of St. Hilda, and the first time I observed her feast day as my own. As I watched and remembered Dr. Holmquist, some of the reasons why I choose Hilda began to emerge. It was not about wanting to be an abbess as Hilda was, any more than it was about wanting to be a cho- , ral conductor. It was not about imitation in such a specific sense, but about living in the presence of someone who could play a part in calling me to be who I am supposed to be and to do what I am meant to do. It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. If I imagined myself as a member of Hilda's monastery, much as I had been a member of Dr. Holmquist's choir, what could I learn about who I am supposed to be here and now? It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. 397 The Venerable Bede, an English monk and writer of the 8th century, is our sole source of historical infor- 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby marion on Hilda. After serving as the abbess of several monasteries, she established at Whitby a double monas-tery, a community of monks and nuns. In his history of the English church, Bede tells us she taught those within her community to study the Scriptures thoroughly, to observe good works, and to foster many virtues, "but especially peace and charity." In part, the influence of her goodness was seen in the five outstanding men from her monastery who became bishops. In addition to her own monks and nuns, others from all walks of society sought her direction. In this way Hilda, "whom all her acquaintances called Mother because of her wonderful devotion and grace," guided many people to God along the path of their particular gifts and circumstances. Bede also gives us the story of Caedmon, a shy sheep-herder whom "God's grace made remarkable." One night Caedmon received a vision from God in which a man asked him to compose and sing him a song. Caedmon answered that he could not sing, and the man replied "But you shall sing to me," and he did, thus becom-ing the first poet of the English language. When Hilda learned of Caedmon's gift, she invited him to become a monk and be instructed in sacred history, which he then rendered into beautiful music and poetry. Caedmon soon became not just a poet but a disciplined and beloved member of the community as well. At his death he asked if there were any who held any ill will against him, and he was assured that there was not. When then asked if he was at peace with those attending him, he replied, "I am at peace with all the servants of God." Among well-known events of church history, Whitby is known as the site of the synod in 664 at which the controversy between the Celtic and Roman dates for observing Easter was resolved. The problem disturbed Review for Religious many people, Bede tells us, even to the point that they feared "that they might have received the name Christian in vain." Those arguing for the Roman date were victo-rious, yet Bede describes Hilda and her community as favoring the Celtic practice. While he tells us the results of the synod, Bede does not describe Hilda's response to the decision. We do not know if in the end she was saddened, relieved, or pleased. From what we do know about her leadership, however, we can perhaps assume that many looked to Hilda for guidance as to how they should respond to this decision. We can see the great respect she had for the Scriptures and the wisdom of the church. We can see that she taught those around her to be of service in all peace and charity. Even as she neared her death, she urged those in her monastery to "maintain the gospel peace among themselves and with others." I imagine that Hilda had a profound sense of perspective, of knowing, in the end, which beliefs and practices held priority. Unity within the church mat-tered more than any particular date, and gracious accep-tance of the decision of the synod mattered more than the content of the arguments. I was aware of St. Hilda before I was a Catholic because I attended St. Hilda's Episcopal Church for sev-eral years during high school and college. St. Hilda's is a small community; the church holds perhaps fifty peo-ple on a Sunday. I met the vicar, Noel Knelange, when I first arrived, and about a year later Noel's husband Bill was ordained a deacon. I attended the ordination and sang in the choir, helping to lead the congregation out of the church singing "The King's Highway" for the recessional. During the service I was taken aback 399 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Whitby Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without~ pretense; connected ~that image, to me, 400] by the beauty of the liturgy and the fact that Bill was grounding his life and identity in his faith. Somehow God wanted him. God wanted exactly who Bill was, a middle-aged man, a deaf man deeply involved with the deaf community of the diocese, a man who loved to fish so much that during the homily the bishop gave him a new fishing pole, now that he would be a fisher of men. Afterwards, during the reception in the parish hall, I was standing near Bill and Noel, probably eating a cookie, when Noel turned to me and said, "Well, you could do this too you know!" What? I did not want to be a deacon or a priest. I did not understand why she said that, and we never talked about it later. I forgot about Noel's words until after I had become a Catholic and been a member of the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel, Oregon, for several years--even though I had often wondered when the thought of becoming a nun first came to me. Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without pretense, connected that image to me. The seed of the idea of staking everything on "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen," as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews, was planted and would take root in ways I never suspected. Just a few years Review for Religious later, I was led to the Catholic Church, to a Benedictine monastery, and to a surprising new relationship with St. Hilda, a relationship reflected in women like Solveig Holmquist and Noel Knelange. Regardless of whether they were aware of all the details, they could and would change the course of a life in a single breath, with a single word. The name Hilda comes from the Old English and means "Battle Maiden," a fact I learned only after I received the official word from .the prioress that I could take Hilda as my new name at my final profession. I took to the image of the Battle Maiden immediately--the tension between toughness and gentleness, knowledge and innocence, between what we think we know and what we in fact do not, a tension not to be resolved but used as ingeniously as possible until the day of death. Other people have taken to my choice of the name Hilda, to the "Batde Maiden" too. "Battle on, maiden!" says my mom before she hangs up the phone. After ask-ing me to explain the meaning of Hilda to my class-mates, one of my seminary professors warns that "from now on, you gendemen better look out!" The best, how-ever, is my friend Ania. With her I have established The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens. We have taken as our charter the words of St. Paul to the Corinthians: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies." To bet- 401 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby ter understand our society, I have listed qualities of the Battle Maiden, which include the following and will surely be added to as I ponder this further: ¯ A persistent love, grounded in the love of God that pursues us without end. She can keep extending her love for other people, regardless of how they respond, if at all. If she feels hurt by this, she takes it to mean that her efforts were not the most gracious way to love this particular person, and it is time to try something else. She is intelligent, so her persistence does not suggest beating her head against a wall, but rather keeping her wits about her and being willing, always willing, to try again. ¯ The beginning of an understanding of the fourth step of humility in the Rule of St. Benedict: "The fourth step of humility is that, in this obedience under diffi-cult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his [or her] heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape." She does not, in the end, resent that this step asks her to endure injustice, even contradiction, for the sake of the God she loves. She accepts that sometimes such endurance will require her to speak her mind, to name what is difficult, recognizing that endurance can be more than just waiting for the bad to run its course. Bravery of heart becomes part of her core. She understands that false sisters and broth-ers (and are not we all false and contradictory at one time or another) are part of reality; to deny this is of no use to anyone. She uses their words and actions to strengthen her reliance on the Lord so that it remains possible for her to pray for her enemies. ¯ An enduring kindness that she tries to exercise in any situation, par.ticularly in her words. At times, she may manifest her kindness in ways that are more tra- Review for Religious ditionally recognized as kindness--offering to lend a hand in household tasks, greeting guests with courtesy and assisting them in their needs, acknowledging the accomplishments of others with a sincere compliment. Kindness, however, is also needed in more challenging situations. It is a kindness to try to change the sub-ject when she hears murmuring or gossip about some-one who is not present. It is a kindness to walk away and not participate even by listening when this tactic fails, perhaps biting back the words rising in her throat that she would like to put everyone in their place with. Kindness calls her to address only in private any embar-rassing situations that involve another person, so as not to worsen the pain her words would likely cause if spo-ken publicly. To enjoy membership in The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens, you and I do not need to be in full possession of these qualities. We do need, however, to recognize their worth and strive to live with their inher-ent tensions, tensions that in the end are simply the tensions of the cross. Image Bearer One of a kind, Here for a reason, Plucked from the mire, Now wearing white, Bearing His likeness, I am immortal, A soul crafted By the Holy. Teresa Burleson 403 68.4 2009 Vv'ILLIAM PROSPERO World Youth Day and Religious Life sharing experience 40_4] Many vocation directors will confirm that a substantial number of candidates for seminar-ies and institutes of consecrated life consider a World Youth Day (WYD) experience to have been an important part of their discernment. Many candidates say they first thought seri-ously about religious life or the priesthood while on a WYD pilgrimage. What is it about WYD that promotes consecrated life? Sister Joseph Andrew, of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, asked me to speak about this very topic at a recent discernment retreat at the motherhouse in Ann Arbor. No less than a hundred 'thirty young women attended. When I asked how many had been to WYD, about one third raised their hands. The main reason for "only" a third, I William Prospero SJ is pastor of St. Mary's University Parish (on the campus of Central Michigan University); 1405 South Washington; Mount Pleasant, Michigan 48858. Emaih will.prospero@stmarycmu.org Review for Religious believe, is that most of them were too young to have attended any other WYD than the one in 2008 in Sydney, Australia. Sydney did not draw huge numbers from the United States because of the travel cost. Nonetheless, many of the young women present had managed to attend that WYD. I believe there are several reasons why WYD pro-motes consecrated life and priesthood. Though I do not have any statistical analysis to prove my points, I have a wealth of experience assisting young WYD pil-grims in their discernment about consecrated life or priesthood. I have attended four WYDs: Denver (1993), Toronto (2002), Cologne (2005), and Sydney (2008). I have served as a priest on the last three. I have wit-nessed more than ten pilgrims enter religious life or the seminary. The main reason, I believe, for the wealth of WYD vocations is that WYD gives a taste of life as a conse-crated person. Pilgrims experience about two weeks of consecrated living. WYD provides a veritable "trial run" of living the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In. living the vows on WYD, pilgrims experience the intense joy of the universal church gathered around the pope. They make the connection that living as a religious could be enjoyable and meaningful. The possibility of consecrated vocation becomes real for the first time in many pilgrims' lives. Pilgrims experience poverty the first day of com-mitting to go on WYD. They realize that the costs can be high. As I began recruiting for Sydney, I recall sev-eral students resisting, sa.ying $2,850 was too costly. My response was: "Do you want to go? Has God put this desire in your heart? If so, then commit and the money will come. I promise. And, if not, I will personally cover 405 68.4 2OO9 Prospero ¯ World Youth Day and Religious Life Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of religious poverty. 406 whatever you can't. But you must promise you will com-mit to this and try your best to raise the funds. I prom-ise you, God will provide." Every pilgrim had enough funds. On four WYDs I have never met a pilgrim who fell short of funds. For the 2008 WYD in Sydney, we took seventy pilgrims from the Diocese of Saginaw, each paying $2,850. There are stories of pilgrims finding funds flow-ing in from fund-raisers and from the most unexpected sources. Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of reli-gious poverty: God provides. Pilgrims trust him, and all works out. From the beginning, they learn that those who commit to a reli-gious pilgrimage are cared for by God. They learn this throughout WYD, beginning with their first moment of commitment. Poverty finds many manifestations, usually very inconvenient ones. As the pilgrimage officially begins, I speak of the "great ball of suffering" that one endures on WYD. For some reason, chaos and inconvenience reign. This makes trusting God mandatory, not optional. For example, because of delayed flights, our travel time from our departure to our host parish in Kiama, south of Sydney, was thirty-eight hours. And the last two hours were in a bus with a broken heater (it was winter there) while rain and forty Fahrenheit degrees of damp cold were welcoming us. These horrendous situations created the proper spirit in which to celebrate Mass, Revie;v for Religious namely, our sense of spiritual and actual poverty: "We are not in control!" Having celebrated Mass at a crowded boarding gate in the Los Angeles airport (LAX), we found special meaning in celebrating Mass again, hungry and cold, at the very end of our trip. I was reminded of the four thousand hungry and tired people in Mark 6:1-8 who were worn out from their journey, so Jesus fed them. It was as if Jesus intentionally brought the people out to a deserted place to experience their poverty and to see and taste the goodness of God. Poverty makes pilgrims hungry for Jesus. Another example of poverty happened at the Papal Welcome at Sydney's harbor. Afterwards we were hun-gry and cold. Several pilgrims collected our chits or tickets and got our meals, bags of hot stew (option: beef or pork). After getting the same victuals several days in a row, pilgrims were cheerfully dubbing them "barf bags." Our meals were being eaten on the ground or on cement blocks or wherever we could prop ourselves up. One night, however, several alert pilgrims found some plastic chairs and brought enough over for the group of seventy to sit. We could sit and eat! We were so grate-ful. I cannot recall ever feeling so grateful for having a chair to sit on. This is what WYD does: it makes the ordinary into a gift from God. Once one begins to see that everything, everything, is a gift, then one can start living a radical Christian life. So the gift of sitting, eat-ing, enjoying each other's company, and basking in the reality that we just saw in person the Vicar of Christ, all add up to an explosive experience of the joys of the kingdom. Poverty makes human experience more real, and opens us to the true value of community. How sim-ple and uncomplicated it all is. 407 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. 4081 If pilgrims are properly prepared and guided, they have a wonderful experience of interacting positively with the opposite sex. Even sleeping conditions, oth-erwise inappropriate, become an experience of intense respect and honor of boundaries. One sees the "other" as sacred and as a fellow pilgrim on the way, some-one to be honored and respected. I have never known of any of our pil-grims engaging in actions that are meant for mar-ried couples. Sleeping shoulder to shoulder with two thousand other pilgrims may seem cause for temptation and raised eyebrows, but never have I seen anything but excellent moral behavior among our pilgrims. Even where there are dating couples, they hardly ever "pair off" from the group. The whole atmosphere is one of intense commu-nal living. People are attentive to the needs of everyone, sharing and caring for one another. The pilgrim learns that one does not need to pursue or engage in roman-tic relationships to be happy. Celibacy for the kingdom becomes tangible, livable, and enjoyable. At WYD the intense communal activities, which sometimes involve distressing conditions and both-ersome inconveniences that must be endured, build a joyful esprit de corps. Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. Opportunities for minor sacrifices abound, such as shar-ing personal items to assist another in need and collect-ing meal tickets and standing in line to retrieve meals for a group. These and other sacrifices reveal acom- Review for Religious mon care for one another. Moreover, the group lead-ers have the ultimate say in all major decisions about travel, gatherings, agendas, and special needs that arise. Individual wills give way to the group, or to the lead-ers' decisions. Through these experiences one finds joy in sacrificing one's own will for the good of the group, opening up to the gift of religious obedience. Consecrated persons make a sacrifice of their lives for the good of the church and the world. Pilgrims experience the power of loving sacrifice firsthand, and its power to build up the Body of Christ. Eddie Dwyer, a Saginaw seminarian, said: "Three things I hate are lines, sitting on the floor, and crowded spaces, but the love at WYD made sacrifice easy." All these experiences find rich meaning in the cel-ebration of the sacraments, namely, confession and Eucharist. The intensity of confessions, celebrations of Holy Mass, and Eucharistic adoration affirms God's real presence among his people. All the sufferings and joys of pilgrimage are offered up to the Father in the won-derful exchange of gifts that the Eucharist makes real. All is gift. As a priest I am overwhelmed by the power and joy of the priesthood, by the sacramental fruitful-ness on WYD. What power can be manifested in such weakness! The Papal Mass at the conclusion of WYD provides the perfect environment for the overflowing gratitude of the pilgrimage to express itself. Pilgrims, freshly and deeply aware of God's goodness, gratefully share their belongings with others. Jackets, caps, and an assortment of other personal items are offered and received in a wonderful exchange of gifts. God's kingdom becomes visible in everyone giving their things away to bring joy to both receiver and giver. In his Spiritual Exercises 409 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life St. Ignatius Loyola speaks of the free exchange of gifts between those who love each other (§231). This is the Christian life. As church and bride of Christ, we receive every good thing from God and make an offering of our very selves back to him in gratitude. This joyous exchange finds particular power at the Papal Mass. The accumulation and possession of .things no longer has appeal. The giving and receiving of love becomes the reason for existing. Consecrated life witnesses to the joy of the kingdom of heaven through the. gift of self to God. The Papal Mass provides a taste of the joy offered to those who radically take up the call to follow Christ the Bridegroom wherever he goes. As I lead pilgrims to WYD, I make a point of having several priests, seminarians, and religious sisters accom-pany us. When lay pilgrims rub shoulders with conse-crated persons, consecrated life now has a face, and that face is familiar and human. No longer is the question of consecrated life somewhere off in the distance, but it is real and lived by real people. The possibility of consecrated vocation opens up as the joys of serving the kingdom find witness. I count WYD the single most important vocation promotion ministry that I do. 410 Review for Religious BENNY PHANG Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? MMarriage and celibacy are often seen as contraries. isunderstanding about these two vocations still exists among many people who do not fully under-stand celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven or the meaning of marriage. They see marriage as con-trary to celibacy, totally separated from it, and unable to contribute anything to it. And they understand celibacy as merely a pessimistic, negative rejection of married life and love. They even think celibacy is responsible for many sexual problems. About these matters people raise critical questions such as: Is marriage contrary to celibacy or even a rival? Is marriage a higher and better state than celibacy, or is it the other way around? Does marriage confirm celibacy or devalue it? If marriage confirms celibacy, how does it do so? Benny Phang OCarm, an Indonesian priest studying at the Angelicum for a doctorate in moral theology, can be addressed at Centro Internazionale Sant'Alberto; Via Sforza Pallavicini, 10; 00193 Roma, Italy. Blog: theouiosoter.blogspot.com 411 68.4 2009 Pbang ¯ Marriage and Celibacy On this topic I want to draw some reflections from the messages of Pope John Paul II (collected in Theology of the Body), from the critical reflection on celibacy in the Catholic Church written by Aloysius Pieris sJ, and from the experience of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux of her vocation to religious life. Marriage and celibacy, are interrelated. To hurt either one by being unfaithful in it also hurts the other. 412- Rival Vocations? In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus places the counsel of celibacy in the discussion of the impor-tance of marriage, when he argues against divorce (Mt 19:3-12). Pope John Paul confirms this, saying, "[From Matthew's Gospel, Mt 19:10-12], it can be seen sufficiently clearly that here it is not a question of diminishing the value of matrimony in favor of continence, nor of less-ening the value of one in comparison with the other.''1 "Christ's words on this point are quite clear. He proposes to his disciples the ideal of continence and the call to it, not by reason of the inferiority of, or of prejudice against, conjugal union in the body, but only for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.''2 One can, however, argue for St. Paul's position when he writes, "So then, he who marries his fiancee does well; and he who refrains from marriage will do better" (1 Co 7:38). Does this Pauline text not mean that mat-rimony is good, but celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is better?3 Review for Religious We need to comprehend the reason for celibacy in the evangelical counsel. Jesus says, "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:12). This is the only reason for the evangelical counsel of celibacy. The reason is not to devalue marriage, but for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. To understand the "difference" between Jesus and Paul as regards celibacy and marriage, John Paul gives us an insight: In his pronouncement, did Christ perhaps suggest the superiority of continence for the kingdom of heaven to matrimony? Certainly he said that this is an excep-tional vocation, not a common one. In addition he affirmed that it is especially important and necessary to the kingdom of heaven. If we understand superiority to matrimony in this sense, we must admit that Christ set it out implicitly. However, he did not express it direcdy. Only Paul will say of those who choose matri-mony that they do "well." About those who are willing to live in voluntary continence, he will say that they do "better" (! Co 7:38). (Theology, p. 275) The conscious and voluntary renunciation of the conjugal love of marriage and family life by celibate per-sons is not a devaluation of marriage, but it is a form of self-sacrifice. John Paul explains: "Christ understood the importance of such a sacrifice . He understood the

Issue 58.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1999. ; f'o r reli i , C~stian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ~°~NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared r(flection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. Tbe articles in tbe journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or ~ometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back c~)ver for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER'1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ¯ NUMBER5 contents 454 perspectives The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response Vilma Seelaus OCD places the biblical God-related understanding of the. self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. 470 The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Frederick E. Crowe SJ examines some major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world, especially as a new context for the meaning of consecrated life. 490 brothers "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood Joel Giallanza CSC reflects on the very identity of the religious vocation of "brother" as providing both brothers themselves and the church with a rich and prophetic spirituality. Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Paul Bednarczyk CSC shares his reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers and on some possible countermeasures. Review for Religious 5OO journeying On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming Avis Clendenen brings together personal experience and psychological and theological insight in addressing the reality of making and breaking commitments. 515 Charism and Membership: Surpassing the Institutional Limits of Religious Life Deborah M. Cerullo SSND proposes that emphasis on becoming grounded in the charism through a common novitiate experience would create a better synthesis of diverse ways of being members. 524 associates Identity, Purpose, Organization: Ongoing Associate Programs Rose McDermott SSJ presents a brief historical overview of associates and associations joined to religious institutes, reviews church legislation, and then raises issues about sound future development. 537 Similarity and Uniqueness in the Association Experience: Theological Reflection Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, Mary Mester RSM, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share their experience of using theological reflection in a regional gathering of associates and sisters. departments 452 Prisms 546 Canonical Counsel: Impediments to Admission 552 Book Reviews September-October 1999 prisms Thy kingdom come The words kingdom and reign sound off-putting to most Americans. We have little tra-dition of kings and queens. What we have of it stems from a relatively brief past of early colonizers looking back to European roots. But when we Christians pray the Lord's prayer, we find ourselves begging God--the one we address by Jesus' word Father--that "your king-dom will come." By Jesus' teaching us a way to pray as he prays, we seem to be using language that pictures God as ruler or king and God's area of influence as a kingdom. What do we mean when we pray "Thy kingdom come"? Perhaps we can gain some cl,arity by identifying first what we do not mean. Kingdom is not to be identi-fied with any political entity. Even the age-old notion of Christendom was not tl~e same as this kingdom, and so the breakup of Christendom was not a dissolution of the kingdom. Kingdom is not a certain physical locale. The Roman Catholic Church as an institutional structure is not identified with the kingdom. The church has an important role to play in the kingdom, but it is not the kingdom itself. The church continues the mission of Jesus in proclaiming the kingdom. The church is at the service of the kingdom; it is meant to be a sign, a sacrament of its presence. The kingdom is not something that we human beings fashion or build. We may sing some songs about Review for Religious our "building the kingdom of God," but there is no reality to be done corresponding to our words. According to the gospel imper-ative, we seek first the kingdom of God. We want what God wants. We desire to be totally available to God, ready to serve, eager to do God's will. Doing the will of God involves discipleship--hear-ing the call of Jesus and responding with the total gift of self. Doing the will of God makes the kingdom present, because we are busy about what God is busy about, and so we are where God is. Above all, as our petition teaches us, we pray for the coming of the kingdom since it is God's doing, it is God's work. Jesus himself never gives a definition of kingdom, and we may be surprised that no one seems to question him. In the synoptic Gospels, he never claims the kingdom as his; it always is identified with the one he calls Abba. Only through parables do we find Jesus giving some description of the kingdom. Our Christian Eucharist anticipates the frequent parable allusions to the eating and drink-ing at the Lord's table in the kingdom. For in every Eucharist we place ourselves with Jesus in his total availability to God as he prays "not my will, but yours be done." So what are we to say about the kingdom? How are we to make this petition our own every time we pray the Our Father? The kingdom is the inbreaking presence of God to our human world and our responsive relating to God's being with us. God continues to pour out divine life--what we name as grace--and, when human cooperation is present, then the kingdom is right at hand. Just as the disciples experienced the transfiguration of Jesus, so too the kingdom is often experienced by our touching into this transfiguration kind of moment of a deeper-down reality shining out through our ordinary world. As we enter into this jubilee year, not through the alarms of some millenarians, but rather through the gospel introduction of Jesus, we hear anew Jesus' call to conversion and repentance, his admonition of obedience and watchfulness, and his appeal to be ready and waiting. We are like members of a wedding party--joy-ful, expectant. But it is no bride or groom whom we serve and cel-ebrate. It is our triune God--shining out as the redemptive presence of the Father in Jesus through the power of their Spirit of love. What do we want for ourselves and for our world? "Thy Kingdom come." David L. Fleming sJ September-October 1999 perspectives VILMA SEELAUS The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response This article was conceived at the end of the Carmelite Seminar of 1997 at St. Mary's College in South Bend. I had an opportunity to browse in the Notre Dame book-store, and two titles in different sections waved for my attention. The first was The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World, in which Jungian author James Hillman takes archetypal psychology in a new direction. He claims that, with the soul of the world sick as evidenced by violence and corruption, individuals become sick at heart and suffer heart attacks. To restore the heart's courage and its imaginative power, therefore, the soul of the world needs the same attention that we have been giving to the soul of individual persons. Situating the individual self within the heart of the world challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self.1 The other book that caught my attention was Anthony Thiselton's Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self, in which he offers a hermeneutic of selfhood. Thiselton compares and assesses both modern and post-modern interpretations of the self in relation to Christian Vilma Seelaus OCD made this presentation in June 1998 at the Carmelite Seminar at St. Mary's College in South Bend, Indiana. It is being published also on audio- and videocas-sette by ICS Publications and the Carmelite Institute. Her address is Carmelite Monastery; Barrington, Rhode Island 02806. Review for Religious theology. Postmodern interpretations, he acknowledges, perceive the self as trapped within a network of role performances imposed on it by the power interests of others, but he argues for a deeper understanding of the self and its destiny. Postmodernism de-cen-ters the self; it denies any permanent, integrated reality to the self. It claims that identity is socially constructed and that people in different kinds of societies have quite different identity-forming experiences. Thiselton accepts the force of this, but argues for a deeper understanding of the self in relation to the biblical vision of reality and Christian theology.2 Reading Hillman and Thiselton enticed me into further study of postmodern thought in relation to the self. Before long, the complexity of the topic had my head spinning) Furthermore, post-modern debates about the very nature of reality challenged beliefs that shape my life as a Carmelite. And yet, the more perplexed I became, the more firmly did an inner conviction stand its ground: that our Carmelite mystical tradition has perennial values and insights for our postmodern world and perhaps for many worlds yet to come. In these reflections, therefore, I place the biblical God-related understanding of the self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. I do this in two parts. Part One brings together important insights from both the mod-ern and the postmodern movements, showing a shift in under-standing the self. Part Two looks into the writings of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross for what they offer by way of chal-lenge, expansion, or depth in regard to the self and in regard to our own spiritual journey.as we enter the new millennium. Part One Walter Truett Anderson's insightful and witty book titled: Reality Isn't What It Used to Be helped me to realize that the self in particular is not what it used to be. What did the self use to be that it no longer is? What are the shifts in self-understanding, which, for better or for worse, postmodernism names for us? How might we as Christians respond appropriately to the challenge of post-modernism? First, what do we mean by postmodern? Postmoderns claim to have superseded, to have gone beyond, previous ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving which developed in the so-called modern September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought period. It deconstructs them, to use the "in" term. At the same time, postmodernism is far from a developed, coherent social theory. Scholars dispute whether or not it is a form of radical modernism or something distinctive after modernism, or some of each. According to Philip Endean in his foreword to an issue of The Way dedicated to postmodernism and spirituality: As the structure of the word implies, the postmodern cannot be understood for what it is in itself, but only in terms of what has preceded it: the postmodern is a gamut of reac-tions to the modern, swinging between two moods: a mood of disillusionment, as previously unquestioned assumptions and standards are found wanting, and a mood of exhilara-tion, as new and better alternatives are explored, develop&d, and advocated. Postmodern thinking draws on a wide range of sources: from cybernetics to feminism, from literary the-ory to the new physics, from cultural history to psychoanal-ysis and linguistics. Perhaps for this reason its expression can be, notoriously, opaque.4 Although the philosopher Kant back in the 18th century.paved the way, the 1960s are considered the true beginning of the post-modern era. At that time everything came into question, and all belief systems, with their traditional values, came under attack. People in the '60s began to question what they called the myth of objective consciousness: that, when you looked at things, what you saw and described was what was actually there. (At the scene of an accident, eyewitnesses often give conflicting accounts of what happened.) Today constructivists hold that the "real world" is an ever changing social creation. In the 1960s, thoughts about the self were also changing. As Anderson points out: In the '60s, people assumed that, if you developed enough contempt for your old socially adapted self, a new True Self, unsullied by any conformity, would magically appear, that a True Culture and a True Politics likewise stood in the wings--and that when they appeared they would not have to coexist with old selves, old cultures, old politics. Things didn't work that way!6 Though the '60s were the time of eruption, postmodernism con-tinues and radicalizes trends that actually began during the Enlightenment, at the dawn of what philosophers call the "mod-ern period." Descartes (1596-1650), the classical modern philoso-pher of clear and distinct ideas, attempted to provide clear and Revieva for Religious certain criteria against which our knowledge can be tested for truth. He was also intensely preoccupied with the subject who knows these ideas: the knowing person. For today's radical deconstructionists, like Derrida, such Cartesian objectivity is anathema. Derrida holds all reality to be socially constructed. Reality is simply the interpretation of the perceiving subject. Derrida insists that we cannot grasp reality because it slips by before we can catch hold of it. Everything, then, is interpreta-tion. Nevertheless, Derrida and the other decon-structionists are in a way Descartes's descendants. Descartes understands the self as an active agent, whereas for Derrida the self shifts from active agent to passive situatedness. Instead of a core something (called selJ) determining how it will respond to different situations, the situation cre-ates the self. Different situations call forth a dif-ferent self to be expressed.7 On the whole, postmoderns recognize the importance, for its time, of the modern move-ment. It brought new values to the fore. We ben-efit from the knowledge that scientific objectivity makes possible. From it come the many techno-logical wonders that are integral to our everyday life. In the moral and political spheres, modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. Religion, too, has been enriched by modernity. Most Jewish and Christian believers, for example, no longer subscribe to a literal understanding of the Bible's story of creation in six days.8 But the improvements of modernity have a dark side: the exploitation of nature and its resources, the emergence of indi-vidualism and the consequent collapse of the sense of community, the divorce of technology from moral values, and denials of the worth of ethnic, tribal, and religious traditions. While the modern period gave us universal abstract systems and scientific "metanar-ratives," accounts of the origins and development of the universe, these often denied the existence of God or denied that God could ¯ be discovered by the conscious self. As a result, in today's world many lives are governed by efficiency, profit, success, and the will Modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought to power without regard for ultimate human values. Talk of love, truthfulness, belief, loyalty, and so forth has little meaning. Further, advanced technology, the offspring of the modern period, has introduced a world of ceaseless change. New models quickly replace the old. Things are made not to endure, but to be consumed and replaced. Think of how quickly appliances need replacement or upgrading. Indeed, today we struggle with both the benefits and the dark side of the modern period. As science enabled the modern self more and more to carve out and control its own destiny, the self tended to be assured and opti-mistic. But today, as postmodern thinkers become increasingly aware of the self's arrogant, power-hungry dark side, the self appears to be, in fact, de-centered--no longer an active agent, but instead taking its identity from the variable roles imposed upon it by society and by its own inner drives and conflicts, conflicts which the communications media keep in constant motion. The media, especially the advertising world, tell it who it should be, how it should look, what it should own, and where it needs to travel in order to feel good about itself. Postmoderns see our opinions formed for us by the collective perceptions of the media. Under such conditions, notions of a true self give way to the self as wear-ing different masks to suit the occasion, with little sense of a solid identity underneath. We tend to become who we think others want us to be. In theory, the will of the individual is still supreme, but often it has no strong center, no belief system to serve as anchor. When everything is up for grabs, the self lacks the support of collective meaning. There is too much to choose from; this can leave indi-viduals feeling alone in a sea of options. Many people today feel estranged from others and even from themselves. When people see no value to their lives other than the imperatives of efficiency, success, or serving the power interests of others, when their "real-ity" depends on what the TV screen says is real, no wonder there are high r~ites of suicide and physician-assisted death. Veronica Brady, in an article in The Way, describes it well: "Caught in this ceaseless flow of images, the self almost ceases to exist, breaking into fragments, identifying only with the flow. Right and wrong become a matter of personal taste, depending not so much on what is done but who does it. The center does not hold because there is no center.''9 A character in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses says: "Information got abolished sometime in the Review for Religious twentieth century, can't say just when, stands to reason, that's part of the information that got., abolished. Since then we've been living in a fairy-story . Everything happens by magic. [We] haven't a. notion what's going on. So how do we know if it's right or wrong? We don't even know what it is.'''° Rushdie's world of illusion hangs within the "actual" world of extremes of rich and poor, with millions dying of starvation as nations invest billions of dollars in developing new and deadlier weapons that are then sold to warring ethnic and tribal groups intent on destroying each other. In this context the theories of deconstructionists like Derrida and Lyotard begin to make sense. The absurdity of human confidence in its power to rule the world is becoming more and more apparent as the products of the human mind threaten to destroy us. At the same time, on the positive side, the modern period highlighted one of the deepest urges of the human heart: to be someone. The drift of cultural change is in the direction of human rights, of wanting everyone to be free to create personal identity and experience, even though, for many in our world, resources are not available. No wonder people become dishonest--seeking to have and be and do what the TV ads say they should have and be and do. The struggle to be someone is now a global struggle. Some years ago I had occasion to live in Israel for three months. The incongruities of the struggle became vivid for me when I saw, above Bedouin tents in the desert, TV antennas con-necting them with the modern/postmodern world. As Walter Truett Anderson puts it: "Every morning billions of pairs of eyes open, and billions of societies of mind set forth on the adventures of selfhood. For many the adventure only rarely rises above the level of a struggle to keep the body alive, but even the most mis-erable among us also hear the aspirations of the self---the 'me' craving reassurance that it exists and is good and the modern me that pursues happiness and believes that, whatever happiness it finds, will be what it has taken or created and not what has been handed down by fate.''~ To add a further dimension, the global struggle to be someone is seen with fresh and deep insight by postmodern psychologists who have been influenced by Buddhism. Psychologists Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman hold with Buddhism that self/oth-ers are empty. This does not mean that they are void; it means they have no existence other than in relationships that are con- Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought World and self mutually influence and create one another. stantly arising in the immediate experience of the moment. To say that the self is empty means that the self is not a thing and there-fore has no unchanging core characteristics or essence. It is a way of indicating that self is always completely connected to its imme-diate experience, that in the immediacy of the moment, uncon-strained by past residue or future expectations, self is always free. As the Buddhist Diamond Sutra notes, the past is gone, the future is not here, and the present cannot be grasped. This is perfect freedom.12 As the authors point out, freedom here is not to be confused with a pseudofreedom that seeks to abandon all constraints. Instead, to understand emptiness as being connected to immedi-ate experience can lead to greater generosity and compassion toward the self and others. Past experience no longer has the last word. The empty self, actualized in immediate expe-rience, binds together apparent opposites: the dynamic interchange of oneness and separate-ness. These are not mutually exclusive. The empty self is the connected self which is actu-alized in context and in relationships. Observation reveals self-identity to be fluid and constantly changing according to context and relationships. As the Rosenbaum-Dyckman article puts it, "At work we may be decisive and authoritative; when out to dinner with our spouse, we may be hesitant and deferent about what to order for dinner. Yet we believe ourselves to be the same person.°13 Postmodern psychologists repeatedly make the point that our person is not encapsulated by our skin, but exists in relation. The self is always self in relation, in action, and as such is always con-textual. They hold that emotions are always a reliving in the pre-sent rather than a recall from the dead past. If we do not need to be attached to an unchanging self, and can see change as the only constant, it becomes somewhat easier to image change in prob-lem behaviors24 Although the self may be fluid and constantly changing, it must nevertheless have a boundary, but, according to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, a boundary with infinite length enclosing a finite, definable area, different from the rigid boundaries of lines on a map. Human boundaries are not abstract, conceptual schemas, but are always embodied in constant interaction with a world from Review for Religious which they are not separate. World and self mutually influence and create one another. Such mutual influencing has the potential to stretch present definable boundaries and give glimpses into the infinite. Here the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican comes to mind. If our attitude is one of self-righteousness that places us over against the rest of the world, we will be unable to hear the challenges that postmodern psychologists offer us for continued growth in our postmodern world. Our boundaries become sealed in finitude, and the infinite capacity that is ours becomes rigid, like the lines of a map. Psychologists in increasing numbers address the postmodern shift in regard to the self, and they offer valuable insights for living healthily in today's changing world. At the same time, postmodern philosophers and psychologists do not have the last word, and so now we turn to the mystics for their insights into the self. Part Two Since human boundaries are not abstract, but are embodied and are in constant interaction with the world from which they are not separate, precisely here does the biblically based Carmelite tradition offer timeless help. Back in 16th-century Spain, Teresa of Avila wrote a book to help her daughters of the reformed Carmel relate to one another and to the world, from which they were not separate even in their cloister. In her Way of Perfection, she gives her daughters some advice that flows with meaning into our post-modern age: "I shall enlarge on only three things., for it is very important that we understand how much the practice of these three things helps us to possess inwardly and outwardly the peace our Lord recommended so highly to us. The first of these is love for one another; the second is detachment from all created things; the third is true humility, which, even though I speak of it last, is the main practice and embraces all the others.''~s Many centuries separate us from Teresa and the particularity of her issues, but the interrelated dynamic of love, detachment, and humility are integral to spiritual growth in today's confusing world. Postmodernity challenges much of what we cling to by way of values and beliefs and, in particular, our self-understanding. To understand the self as fluid and constantly changing invites a deeper penetration into the Christian, Carmelite Understanding of Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought detachment. It would have us be attached to nothing, not even the most innocent of things, for in time of need they fail us com-pletely. John of the Cross insists: "To come to the knowledge you have not, you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you' have not, you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not, you must go by a way in which you are not . This places us in our center of humility.''16 Detachment and humility go hand in hand. They cre-ate an openness to new ideas, a willingness to let go of the past an, d let the context of the present create us anew. The contextual pre-sent is the place of encounter with God. The past, while it may continue to influence present behavior, is in fact nonexistent, and the future evolves out of each passing moment. Detachment opens up roads less traveled; but, if we feel attached to our current road, we may all too readily say, "This is me; this is my self." We have heard people say, "I'm a one on the enneagram or an INFP on the Myers-Briggs, so you have to take me as I am." With such a self-fixated attitude, we will less likely hear God's invitation into the infinite realms of potential self-realization. If we conceive of the self as determined by the pathways already taken, a composite of past experiences, it will be hard to let go when unknown paths beckon us onward. As Rosenbaum and Dyckman put it, "The self, as an accumulation of experience, is a prison; the self as empty, as shimmering potentiality, is a prism that, depending on its positioning, gives forth many different colors."17 In his Spiritual Canticle, John of the Cross reminds us that the woods and thicket in which we find ourselves today have been planted by the hand of the Beloved.18 God's self revelation con-tinues right within the human story. The density and darkness of postmodernity--which holds that there is a multiplicity of per-spectives in the search for truth, which denies a stable foundation of self and of knowledge--can generate extremes of uncertainty. But the de-centered self of postmodernity has its own gift to offer. It invites us, beyond the limits of what can be known and con-trolled, into a self that is mystery, into God as ultimate Mystery. The temptation is either to stay blinded in self-righteous cling-ing to the limitations of human knowledge, or to despair before the uncertainties of life. Detachment itself can be the void of despair, unless it is grounded in faith and in the experience of God. The Dutch theologian Frans Jozef van Beeck, in his contem-porary. Catholic systematic-theology series titled God Encountered, Review for Religious reminds us that "the human subject., is naturally and radically 'de-centered': the mature person's true center does not repose in the person. Authentic persons live on the strength of unfulfillable desire . Grace graciously enables human persons, along with their world, to that most natural, yet most divine of all things: freely to move toward God in total faith and abandon."'gIn the midst of alternative versions of reality, and many different ways of being in the world, with the postmodern tolerance for a plethora of possibilities, choosing to believe in something is vital. We can be respectful of others with differing beliefs and still stand firm in the faith that is ours, a faith that centers the self in God. According to the philosopher Kierkegaard, faith is the pas-sionate embrace of objective uncertainty.2° Faith bypasses the postmodern self that interprets, even cre-ates, its own reality. It bypasses human reason to plunge us into mystical depths where being and nonbeing are held in cre-ative tension by God's abiding presence to human life. At this level Rahner rightly speaks of the experience of God and the experience of self as one.2' In his insis-tence upon the possibility open to all of an immediate experience of God, Rahner writes: "I am convinced that such an immediacy between God and the human person., is of greater significance today than ever before. All the societal supports of religion are collapsing and dying out in this secularized and pluralistic society. If, nonetheless, there is to be real Christian spirituality, .it cannot be kept alive and healthy by external helps, not even those which the church offers., but only through an ulti-mate, immediate encounter ofthe individual with God.''22 The Harvard psychologist Charles Verge names this place of encounter "the divine self.''23 Here the self and God mirror each other.24 The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. "Beloved of God" defines the self. The Spiritual Canticle of John of the Cross is a text that writes the self of each one of us. In the Canticle, God's passionate love for the soul, enfleshed in Christ, The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought stirs a passionate response and gives meaning and direction to life right within the extremes of uncertainty that surround us. To be transformed into the image of Christ, to become like Christ, con-stitutes the heart of the divine promise. Faith enables us to embrace, with passion, the ultimate objec-tive uncertainty that the mystery of God revealed in Christ is. Christ lifts the self out of its predefined situatedness with its self-interest, into love for God and love for others. God's love trans-forms the will to power, to possession, to lust, into will to love. The detachment that faith calls forth issues in genuine love even for those who differ from us. Postmodernism stretches our capacity to love. Life today beckons toward a global embrace of love; love for those who may look different from us, love for those who may think differently from us, and love for those whose values may be different, even opposed to ours. Today, in the face of our differences, love holds the special challenge of intense, respectful listening, which can only happen if the heart is humble. A humble heart is a heart detached from pre-conceived ideas and personal prejudice. According to Teresa, humil-ity is truth, and our truth is that we are all, without exception, finite, fragile creatures capable of sin and that as such we always stand on the threshold of ongoing conversion. At the same time, integral to truth is that each one of us is always infinitely loved and possessed by God. Insofar as we fall short, God invites us to continued conversion and, even more, to divine transformation. Our challenge is to live Christ's gospel of love. Such love dissolves the disharmony of suspicion and distrust, it detaches us from self-interest, and it opens us to others in humility and genuine con-cern. As Rahner sagely asks, "Why should there be any need for deception, which serves to protect the self, if the self is loved, wel-comed, accepted, and reconciled-as-one with the Other?''2s Receiving the self from God in Christ, giving the self to others in love, and serving the other's interests as one's own are mirrorings of God, the divine self-giving Trinity, in whose image we are. In trinitarian theology, love constitutes the ground of selfhood. The gospel account of Jesus at table, encircled by the outcasts of his time, symbolizes the self today cast out from itself and in need of re-centering in Christ. From the horizon of Christ, we see the incompleteness of all that is human in relation to our total commitment to Christ, but in Christ we also see ourselves con-nected with the heart of all that is. Revie~v for Religious The archetypal psychology of James Hillman invites us to this from a psychological perspective. He would have us see ourselves and others as intimately connected with what he calls the soul of the world. Today conversion extends to claiming our part in what Hillman rightly names the sickness of the soul of the world. He claims that the world, because of its breakdown, is entering a new moment of consciousness by having its attention drawn to itself by means of its symptoms. It is becoming aware of itself as a psychic reality. We now encounter pathology in the psyche of politics and medicine, of language and design, of the food we eat. Sickness, says Hillman, is now "out there" as well as "in here.''26 To situate our individual self within the heart of the world not only challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self; it also invites a deeper awareness of our connectedness with others and with planet Earth, whose beauty and balance are today oppressed by our violent consumer world. The world itself is now a patient in need of hea~ling. Postmodernism offers a broader understanding of the redeeming mission of Christ. The entire cos-mos becomes the locus of redemption. Like us, our church and civilization and even planet are all in need of Christ's redeeming, healing, transforming love. Postmodernism is globalism; as such it is the half-discovered truth of the one unity that transcends all our differences. The language of postmodernism would be alien to Teresa, and yet, as she increasingly experienced herself as centered in God, her self became increasingly fluid. She seems astonished as the boundaries of the self continue to expand. There are many exam-pies, but in her Autobiography, her Vida (chap. 15, para. 7), Teresa, experiencing herself infused with the light of God, comments: "And I, though being what I am, seem to be another person." In 23.1, recalling how God freed her from herself, she writes that "here begins another new life." In 27.1, having placed herself com-pletely in the hands of God, she says, "l saw that I was a com-pletely different person." In 27.9 she says, "One of these graces is enough to change a soul completely.''27 In the context of these remarks, Teresa specifically mentions that she is growing in either love, detachment, or humility. At the height of her mystical life, Teresa has a profound expe-rience that, on the level of the divine self, reflects the empty, de-centered, but relational, contextual self of postmodernity. In 40.5 of her Vida, she writes: Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought Once, while I was reciting with all the sisters the hours of the divine office, my soul suddenly became recollected; and it seemed to me to be like a brightly polished mirror, without any part on the back or sides or top or bottom that wasn't totally clear. In its center Christ our Lord was shown to me, in the way I usually see him. It seemed to me I saw him clearly in every part of my soul, as though in a mirror¯ And this mirror also--I don't know how to explain it--was com-pletely engraved upon the Lord Himself by means of a very loving communication I wouldn't know how to describe. ¯ I was given understanding of what it is for a soul to be in mortal sin. It amounts to clouding this mirror with mist and leaving it black; and thus this Lord cannot be revealed or seen, even though he is always present giving us being. In God, Teresa is connected with the world's sin, even as she affirms the ever present graciousness of God always giving us being within the darkness of sin. God is present in Teresa, not with power and might, but in love and with an invitation to self-transcendence that is as pertinent and penetrating for us today as it was for Teresa. In 3 7.11 of her l/ida, Teresa sounds as though she is living in our present age. After lamenting the foibles of her honor-bound society, with its elaborate system of etiquette, she says, "I don't know how it's all going to end up; even though I'm not y.et fifty, I've already seen so many changes I don't even know how to live anymore. What will they do who are now being born and will live for many years?" What will we do, we who have been born in this postmodern era, this era in which we live for many years, often into our nineties? Like Teresa, we do not know where it is all going to end up. Many would say that dark night engulfs our entire world and the times in which we live. The Carmelite tradition, however, assures us that God is in the night. John of the Cross eloquently describes the meaning of the soul's journey into the night of God. In this night of faith, we discover that love is the eye of God and we in turn are to see and interpret all things through the eyes of God. From this perspective we see that we are all one in God's love and that we bear one another's burdens. By the quality of our lives, Christ would have us be bearers of hope for all who suffer the travails of poverty, violence, injustice, and oppression. Right within the many forms of death that surround us is the seed of resurrec-tion impatient for new life. As we work with our differences in families, in our civic and Review for Religious church communities, we can dare to hope that our graced strug-gle will energize efforts toward understanding, toward finding common ground within the extremes of diversity that ctiaracterize our postmodern world. What we see in Teresa's writings is a devel-opment in her understanding of herself and of Christ, who com-panions her journey. Today,. as we find the self anew, we also find new ways of seeing Christ and the Christian mysteries right within our postmodern world, without getting caught in nostalgia for the past. Again, like Teresa, we do not know where it will all end up. What we do know is that the future is present, like a seed, in today's disconcerting moment. Our challenge is to live now, to live fully (but with humility, detachment, and love) what we say we believe. The sufferings of our time are not meaningless, as sec-ular postmodernity might see them. They are integral to the groan-ing of creation in labor until it brings forth redemption, the final triumph of God's love. At its deepest level the self is caught up in the incomprehensible mystery of Love we call God. Notes I James Hillman, The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World (Woodstock, Connecticut: Spring Publications, 1995). 2 Anthony C. Thiselton, Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self'. On Meaning, Manipulation, and Promise (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998). 3 It also leaves me with a little anxiety that the many authors that I read be given due credit. As I prepare this paper for publication, I real-ize that much of what I read merged in my thinking as I internalized the material. 4 See The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 175. s According to Anderson, Kant's work in the 18th century began with a problem that was as divisive in its time as the objectivist-con-structivist one is in ours--in this case a conflict between the British empiricists such as Locke and Hume, who saw thought as merely an instrument for understanding or using "real world experience," and the Continental philosophers such as Descartes and Leibniz, who saw the mind as the supreme organizer and discoverer of all reality. This was not a postmodern debate. All parties assumed that people could appre-hend unchanging and universal truth. Kant's attempt to resolve the con-flict was his own contribution to the search for "foundational" knowledge or reality--beyond historical and cultural relativism--but it pointed toward a view of the mind as a creator of reality. Kant describes the mind as an active organ that orders and forms the raw data of experience, 1-467-- September-October 1999 Seela~s ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought imposing upon them its own structure; we do not experience things in themselves but rather representations of them. See Walter Truett Anderson, Reality Isn't What It Used to Be (San Francisco: Harper, 1990), pp. 59-60. 6 Anderson, Reality, p. 48. 7 See Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman, "Integrating Self and System: An Empty Intersection?" Family Process 34 (March 1995): 26- 27, and Kenneth J. Gergen, "The Social Construction of Self- Knowledge," in Daniel Kolak and Raymond Martin, Self and Identity: Contemporary Philosophical Issues (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1991), pp. 372-403. 8 See Max Charlesworth, "Postmodernism and Theology," The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 188-202, for an interesting summary of the devel-opment of modern to postmodern thought. 9 Veronica Brady, "Postmodernism and the Spiritual Life," in The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 181. 10 Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (London: Viking, 1988), p. 313, quoted in Brady, "Postmodernism." 11 Walter Truett Anderson, Reality, p. 132. 12 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 28-33. 13 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 26. 14 According to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 35-37, acknowledging memory as constructive, as a present contextual experi-ence, rather than as retrieval of the past, helps to avoid difficulties such as the controversies over recovered memories of trauma and abuse, which are a sensitive contemporary issue. ~s Teresa of Avila, Way of Perfection (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980), chap. 4, para. 4, p. 54. 16 The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), p. 150. 17 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 37. is See his Spiritual Canticle, stanza 4, in Collected Works, p. 494. 19 Frans Jozef van Beeck, God Encountered: A Contemporary Catholic Systematic Theology, Vol. 2/1 (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 238. 20 Soren Kierkegaard, "Truth Is Subjectivity," in Concluding Unscientific Postscript, ed. and trans. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), pp. 169ff. "Truth is precisely the con° tradiction between the infinite passion of the individual's inwardness and the objective uncertainty. If I am capable of grasping God objectively, I do not believe, but precisely because I cannot do this I must believe. If I wish to preserve myself in faith, I must constantly be intent upon hold-ing fast the objective uncertainty, so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy thousand fathoms of water, still preserving my faith . " Review for Religious 2~ See Karl Rahner, "Experience of Self and Experience of God," in Theological Investigations, vol. 13 (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 122- 132. 22 See "The Immediate Experience of God in the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola," in Karl Rahner in Dialogue, ed. Paul Imhof and Hubert Biallowons, trans. Harvey D. Egan (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. 176. 20 See Charles Verge, "Foundations for a Spiritually Based Psychotherapy," in Religion and Family, ed. L. Burton (Hayworth Press, 1992), pp. 41-59. 24 See also her Autobiography in Collected Works of Teresa of Avila, Vol. 1, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), chap. 40, paras. 5 ~nd 10. Teresa here recounts two visions in which God and the soul mirror each other. See also Spiritual Canticle, stanza 12, in Collected Works of John of the Cross, pp. 515-519. 2s Quoted in Thiselton, Interpreting God, p. 160. z6 Hillman, Thought of the Heart, pp. 96-99. 27 With only a quick glance, I found chap. 20, paras. 23, 25, and 26- 28; chap. 21, paras. 8-9; and chap. 25, paras. 18-19--all referring to Teresa experiencing herself as a different person. The Salvation Cup I raise my fragile, broken cup. Accept it empty. Nothing I own can f!ll it. This is the cup of my truth, my faith in the promise, my salvation cup. Fill it with the wine of the Spirit, the river that makes fertile my barren ground, the ocean of never ending mystery. This is my cup. With it I offer my fragileness, my sinfulness and my broken promises. Heal me, Spirit of God, with theelixir of salvation. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ September-October 1999 FREDERICK E. CROWE The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II An old proverb, once thought to be scriptural, warns us that where there is no understanding the people perish. Scriptural or not, the proverb itself is sound enough, and I would apply it to the institution of religious life. On all sides the question is heard: Is religious life dying? I refuse to believe that the God who gave us Anthony of Egypt, Benedict, Francis, Dominic, Ignatius, and so many others down to Mother Teresa is a God who intends religious life to perish. But I do believe in the need for under-standing, so that through our input God's operative grace may become cooperative. The Pattern of Human Thinking This essay is, then, an essay in understanding, but much more modest in scope than the preceding paragraph would suggest. It does not attempt td study religious life in its essence, its proper-ties, its various manifestations. It goes back rather to a prelimi-nary question and takes one small point for study: the Christian attitude toward what we call the "world." It is my hope that, if we gain some understanding on this background question, we will have a context for an eventual rethinking of religious life itself. Frederick E. Crowe SJ wrote "The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality" for our July-August 1994 issue. His address remains Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario; M4Y 1P9 Canada. Review for Religious My approach is historical rather than analytic. It examines the major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world. It finds a dialectic running through history, a dialectic of to and fro that is not a mere alternation, but a progressively unfolding pat-tern in which each alternation is a step forward. It concludes with the way the church is finding new meaning for its role in the world, and proposes this as a new context in which religious too might find today the meaning of their consecrated life. The advantage of approaching history as a dialectic in the sense described is twofold. First, it may lift us out of our "crisis" mood, in which we think of our present situation as a spiritual fever, as a low point from which the patient may either die or recover and resume life as it was before the crisis. In a dialectical understanding, that is not the case. The low point is an opening on a new high. Second, a dialectic follows an intelligible pattern, with each step part of a natural, though not necessarily logical, sequence. This means that, if we can plot the sequence up to the present, we may be able to establish the direction of movement and discern the path we should take into the developing and unknown future. That "natural sequence" is the pattern of human thinking in time, the way the human mind naturally works as it progresses toward fuller and fuller understanding. In itself the pattern is sim-ple enough. Faced with a problem area of any complexity, the human mind will first find some specific factor of explanation, will tend to make that the whole explanation, but will eventually see that it is insufficient as a total view. It will then discover a generic factor and will in turn make that the full explanation, only to dis-cover that this too is insufficient as a total view. Eventually, in the dialectical oscillation of specific and generic, the mind will arrive at a higher viewpoint and hold the specific and the generic in the unity of a full understanding. The Pattern Illustrated That is terribly abstract. So, before applying it to the history of Christian thinking on the world, let me offer two concrete illus-trations that show the pattern as realized in actual history. First, the natural priority of the specific is easily illustrated in human lan-guage. "So in Homer there were words for such specific activities as glancing, peering, staring, but no generic word for seeing.''1 This is "both the strength and the weakness of'early language";~ it Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican ll The term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). has the power of the concrete, but is unable to reason in abstract or generic terms. And so in learning to write English we are told to search for the specific, for the concrete descriptive word, but in the strict reasoning of, say, a legal question we may have to resort to technical and abstract language. What is true of human language is true also of human think-ing, and so my second illustration is taken from the theology of our need for divine grace. Here there was first the discovery of a specific explana-tion, namely, the fall of our first parents. This was largely the focus of St. Augustine's thinking, which centered on the difference between their state before the fall and ours after it. This idea ran its course for about seven centuries, cul-minating in the position of Peter Lombard, namely, that there are in the grace-history of our human race "four states of human liberty: the earthly paradise, fallen man, man redeemed, and heaven.''3 Our need for divine grace is understood in relation to those states. Meanwhile, however, the insufficiency of this specific step was gradually becoming apparent. There was difficulty in defining lib-erty; the doctrine of merit tended to hang in mid air; even grace itself lacked a clear definition, for what is there that is not a free gift of God and therefore grace?4 The dialectic of ideas was prepar-ing theologians for the next step, the discovery of the generic the-orem of two orders with quite distinct status in the universe of being, the supernatural order and the natural: "not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, and the natural love of God.''5 This was largely the work of Philip the Chancellor in Paris in the early 1200s. It was an epoch-making discovery, and it put the question of our need for divine grace on an entirely new basis, releasing a whole series of developments. But so intoxicating was Philip's idea that theologians made a mistake exactly parallel to the one their predecessors made in the use of Augustine: the view that this was a complete and adequate explanation. Thomas Aquinas himself, in his early writings, shows hints of this one-sidedness, not giving sufficient attention to the moral impotence that is the result of Adam's fall. Nevertheless, it was Thomas who finally Review for Religious brought, the two factors, the specific and the generic, into unity. Peter Lombard's four states remain in the Thomist synthesis, but as applying to a specific question within the genus of the total divine plan.6 The Pattern Verified in the Specific Idea of "World" I have illustrated the way the human mind naturally works in time as it advances in understanding: first, a specific idea; then, exaggeration of this idea; next, a generic idea; exaggeration of this in its turn; eventually a synthesis. I believe the pattern is discernible also in the history of Christian thinking on the idea of the world. There too I find a specific and a generic factor, with the specific the first to be discovered and exploited beyond its potentiality, and the generic the next to be discovered and in its turn exploited beyond due measure. Again let us turn from the abstract to the concrete. Concretely the first step may be located in, or at least represented by, Anthony of Egypt. Toward the end of the 3rd century, "Anthony gave away his possessions, and devoted himself to a life of asceticism, and c. 285 retired completely into the desert . Towards the end of his life, the numbers of those who turned to the solitary life of the desert increased as the result of the secularization of the church.''7 It is possible to see this development in too simplistic a fash-ion, but at least one characteristic feature is clear: flight from the world. So it produced works with titles like De contemptu mundi (On contempt of the world). It filled Europe with hermitages, con-vents, and monasteries. For twelve centuries the idea ran its course with enormous impact on Christian v.alues, Christian living, Christian institutions.8 But it suffered the handicap of being a specific idea attempt-ing to provide a total view. For one example, the term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). In this respect the laity of the church and even the diocesan clergy were deemed to belong to a lower class: they did not have a "voca-tion." A reaction was inevitable, but it was centuries taking shape. Many diverse influences were at work promoting it. Its history is a complex interweaving of those influences. There were subver-sive along with legitimate movements. But what was positive and valid in the reaction, and quite natural and basic in the unfolding Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II dialectic, was the emergence of the generic factor in the concept of the world. The Pattern Verified in the Generic Idea of "World" The quite basic event, then, in the. emergence of the generic concept of the world was the discovery by Philip the Chancellor of the two orders: natural and supernatural. I used this earlier to illustrate the pattern of human thinking as it is found in theology (not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, an'd the natural love of God). I use it now as a basic explanatory factor for the new stage of our dialec-tic. That is no accident. It is an idea so fundamental that it is bound to appear in the history of any theological idea. It underpins all that I have to say in this section and the following. Every discovery makes its way against opposition from an estab-lishment. The recognition of the natural order had to be followed by a recognition of its rightful autonomy, and that could not fail to be a traumatic experience for the church. The history of this strug-gle need not detain us here. In essence the point is that the human race was not only created divine; it was also created human, with a need for hunting, fishing, farming, for song and dance, for math-ematics, science, philosophy, whatever lies within its potency for development. Without grace we are able, Thomas Aquinas would say, using his favorite example, to cultivate our fields and build our houses. But the full extent of that principle means that without grace we can marry and be given in marriage, form guilds among artisans, establish universities, function as nations, join in a world union of peoples, explore the boundaries of space. Further, the natural has its own laws. Natures operate uni-formly: we do not gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles (Mr 7:17). And those natural laws can be isolated in thought and allowed to develop and flourish according to their own potential. For to be human is to learn: to learn that there are human tech-niques for producing good crops, human means for controlling nature, human means of self-government, human means for gain-ing wisdom and educating upcoming generations, and so on through the list. If, then, we take a broad view of the forest, not stopping to study individual trees, we can discern here the generic factor in Review for Religious the concept of the world, the needed complement to the specific factor provided by Anthony. This generic factor is the recogni-tion of the world as good in its own right. God did not create an evil universe, but made all things that they might have being and life (Ws 1:13-14; 1 Tm 4:4). That means that we can no longer be satisfied with the negative connotation of "flight from the world." There is a positive side to Anthony's strategy: its focus on the transcen-dent. The negative side is not repudiated, but it has to be seen in relation to that focus and has to be complemented by a generic view of the goodness of all creation. But the pattern of the dialectic suggests that this step too will be exaggerated, and that is exactly what happened. In the intoxication of this new idea, there was a widespread repudia-tion of the age-old flight from the world. Convents and monasteries were emptied; instead of contemptus mundi, there was a glorification of the secular.9 And so secularism arose: what was legitimate in the discovery of the natural, what was legitimate in the declaration of its auton-omy was magnified to an ism. What was a genetic idea that should have been brought into union with the specific paraded as the full explanation of the universe. A movement for the liberation of the secular became a secularism. The secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Categories Christian thinking on th~ world has gone through the two phases inherent in the dialectic of human learning: the discovery and undue exploitation of a specific factor, followed by a reaction, and the discovery and undue exploitation of a generic factor, fol-lowed in its turn by a reaction. The current need is for the inte-gration of the two factors, and the categories that offer hope of that are the sacred and the secular. This pair of terms has crept into our discussion as related to, but not identical with, the supernatural and the natural. They need more careful definition. The natural and the supernatural provide the framework of creation; they are what philosophers would call Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 the ontological constituents of the universe. But the secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation; they pertain to the cultural sphere rather than the ontological. The natural cannot be made supernatural: as Isaiah reports the word of the Lord, "my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8, NEB). God is the wholly other. Grace perfects nature but does not destroy it. The natural, then, maintains its identity within the unity of God's creative plan. Catholic schools do not use a different mathematics to add and subtract, to divide and multiply. But while the natural remains what it was created to be, it can be invested with the aura of the supernatural, and in this sense the natural can be sacralized, become sacred. Bernard Lonergan provides a context in which to locate this cultural transformation: "The whole world of sense is to be. a token, a mystery, of God"; and again: "the world of sense is. a mystery that signifies God as we know him and symbolizes the fur-ther depths that lie beyond our comprehension.''~° This means that the secular, not only as a world but also in its various aspects, can in human thought and feeling be given the character of the sacred. So in primitive peoples there was a religious ritual for plant-ing and harvesting, for coming to puberty and marrying, for rev-erent remembering of the dead, and so on. All these activities are given a sacred aspect, though their natural basis allows for their secular use. But they are only potentially secular; they are not at first recognized to have that aspect. For the human race is funda-mentally religious, in the sense of being created with a religious consciousness, and has remained religious despite all the protests of unbelievers. One may say: In the beginning was the sacred. That is, what later became distinguished as the two zones of the sacred and the secular was at first all one zone, and it was sacred. Now, just as in the ontological sphere the natural component of the universe had to be recognized for what it was, the natural, so too in the sphere of the cultural the legitimately secular aspect had to escape from the domination of the sacred and assume its independent role in the plan of creation. In the course of this development, there was inevitably a conflict with the representa-tives of the sacred; inevitably too the secular won its rightful inde-pendence. "For this sacralized construct of man and his universe was impugned and impugned successfully by Copernicus, Galileo, Review for Relig4ous and Newton, by Darwin and Freud, and by the swarm of philoso-phies" at least since Descartes.~l So the struggle between natural and supernatural was repeated here, with the same exaggerations. The extremists were not con-tent to liberate the secular; they were driven also to desecrate the sacred. Concretely we might think of the relation between a sec-ular day of rest and the Lord's Day. There has been a strong ten-dency in this matter for the sacral to dictate to the secular, imposing a religious observance so strict as to frustrate the secu-lar purpose of a day of rest. But on the other side there is the des-ecration of the Lord's Day represented in past history by the extremists in the French Revolution and, some would say, by the present Sunday shopping. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Strategy Perhaps it is possible now to sketch the lines we might follow to achieve the desired integration of our specific and generic fac-tors. Our question is: How is the church to achieve the unity of Anthony and Aristotle, of Jerusalem and Athens, of the transcen-dent and the this-worldly, and now in particular of the sacred and the secular? Our suggestion is that what had been at first unwit-tingly sacralized was then wittingly secularized. Bur what was wit-tingly secularized can be wittingly resacralized for Christian purposes as the need arises. The pagans of Rome sacralized their meat by offering it to their gods, but the Christians could, in effect, desacralize these meats with a good conscience and, if they wished, resacralize them to their own purpose: "he who eats meat has the Lord in mind when he eats" (Rm 14:6). Again, a game of golf may be just what workers need on their day of secular rest, and present discipline in the church allows them to keep holy the Sabbath and still go golfing. But the new sacralization will be different. There will be a new understanding and a new humility. The sacred will not dictate to the secular in the latter's own sphere. It will be a sacralization through the intention of believers, using the natural end of a nat-ural entity to their religious purpose. They who eat meat have the Lord in mind when they eat; they who golf give thanks alike in the weekly Eucharist and in their outdoor exercise. A final point brings us back to larger issues: sacralization will not be merely extrinsic to the natural world. On this question Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Marie Dominique Chenu Op has some helpful remarks. He sees a purer presence of the church in the world creating a new kind of Christians in the world: missionaries of the gospel, and not the protectors of a civilization that they themselves have organized. The real vocation of lay people will be to show that Christianity does not despise the world, but lifts it up, consecrates it, and ful-fills it. And this new presence will unite intrinsically with the world, will make it a true partner, for the believers will read the signs of the times and through them discern the elements in the world and human history that are, as it were, naturally open to the sacred, offering the possibility of a new praeparatio evangelica. They now look for a spirituality that will integrate their life in a world that has become the main field where they must seek their sanctifica-tion. 12 Religious Life in the Ongoing Dialectic The focus of my attention has been the new path for the church in the world today, along the lines of the Vatican Council II document Gaudium et spes. We must be clear on the church in the new age before venturing to discuss religious life in the new age, for religious are Christian before they are religious; that is the order of the council in its document on the church, Lumen gen-tium.~ 3 But of course that means that the dialectic we have dis-cerned in history will apply also to the features of Christian living that religious have in common with all Christians. In that context we may anticipate the direction that applying the dialectic to religious life should take. We will understand how the religious state began as a "flight" from the "world," and we will realize that, as our conception and knowledge of that world has changed enormously, so also must our notion of flight from it. We have come a long way from St. Anthony of Egypt. I trust, never-theless, that we have not left him behind. With all reverence we may conceive an analogy with a hymn of Thomas Aquinas that the church uses in Holy Week: "The word of God, proceeding forth / Yet leaving not his Father's side." Our task is not to aban-don Anthony, but "proceeding forth" to retain his insight and transpose it into a realization of Vatican II's "church in the mod-ern world" and of religious life as it is to be lived in the coming millennium. Our task is to achieve in our own way the unity of the specific and ~he generic concepts of the world. Review for Religious Religious, then, will retain their vows, and the vows will have the meaning they had for Aquinas, a revocatio ab affectu temporalium, a withdrawal from affection for this world.14 They will have the meaning also that Anthony's flight from the world had for him in his time of secularization. And that meaning will remain even in the most sacred of times. A focus on the transcendent and the escha-tological state will necessarily involve the reevaluation of the world that the saints have always shown: not a contempt for the good of creation, but a love for the better to which the good is open. Correspondingly, there will be far more attention to the positive aspects of the vows. This movement has already begun, but it should undergo an extensive development. Similarly for the pos-itive counterpart of the "flight": contemplation of the divine. The cloistered will redouble attention to their contemplative role, and the active will redouble attention to their role as contemplatives in action. As we follow the dialectic in its future course, we would do well to consider our starting point. The first word in the gospel message is "repent" (Mt 4:17; and see the same in Mk 1:15, but with a preface, "The time has come . . ."). Our examination of conscience in this respect might ask in what degree, if any, we transferred to ourselves as perfection what belongs rather to the realm of the sacred. Medieval theologians argued at length about holiness and the more perfect state. Should the operative word be, not "holy" in the sense of personal virtue, but rather "sacred" in the sense of "consecrated to God"? Notes 1 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1994 reprint), p. 87. 2 Lonergan, Method, p. 87. 3 Grace and Freedom: Operative Grace in the Thought of St. Thomas Aquinas (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1971), p. I0. 4 Grace and Freedom, pp. 14-15. s Grace and Freedom, pp. 15-16. 6 Bernard Lonergan, "Gratia Operans: A Study of Speculative Development in the Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas," doctoral disser-tation, Gregorian University, Rome, 1940, pp. 36-37. The preface and introduction, from which the dialectical pattern is taken, were published in Method: Journal of Lonergan Studies 3, no. 2 (October 1985): 9-46. The whole dissertation will he published in volume 1 of the Collected September-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "World"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 Works of Bernard Lonergan, soon to appear from University of Toronto Press. This section of my article simply paraphrases Lonergan's position as set forth in that dissertation. 7 The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, ed. EL. Cross (London: Oxford University Press, 1958), article, "Antony, St., of Egypt." s See, for an example, G.J. Engelhardt, "The De contemptu mundi of Bernardus Morevalensis," Mediaeval Studies 22 (1960): 108-135; 26 (1964): 109-142; 29 (1967): 243-272. On the same topic Robert Bultot published widely in books and periodicals of the 1960s under the title La doctrine du m~pris du monde. 9 The turnaround had an interesting development in the Lutheran idea. Lutheranism "does not consider the call of the pastor any more sacred than the call of each Christian to witness to the lordship of Christ in his life and work. The universal priesthood of believers., makes the vocation of every man a holy calling"; see "Lutheranism" in A Handbook of Christian Theology (Cleveland and New York: World Publishing Company, 1958). Here too there is a valuable insight, namely, the vocation of every Christian, but it is not integrated into the dialectical development on the "world." 10 Bernard Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 689, 692. '~ Bernard Lonergan, "Sacralization and Secularization," unpublished MS of a 1974 lecture (originally given 1973), p. 23. My whole article relies heavily on this lecture. ~2 Spirituality in the Secular City (Concilium 19), pp. 114-115. I have paraphrased, with frequent verbatim quotations, two pages of "Desacralization and the Spiritual Life" by Claude J. Geffr~ op. ~3 See chap. 6, §§43-47, on religious, in Lumen gentium, the coun-cil's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church. 14 On "revocatio ab affectu temporalium," see Thomas Aquinas, De perfectione vitae spiritual#, chap. 6. Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood In Genesis, chapter 45, Joseph, one of Jacob's sons, has the delicate task of revealing his identity to his brothers. Having sold him into slavery several years before, they do not recognize him now in this powerful Egyptian official, second only to Pharaoh. In his self-revelation Joseph tells his brothers, "Come closer to me. I am your brother" (Gn 45:4). To be convincing, Joseph has to do more than tell his brothers who he is; he must demonstrate this through his attitudes and actions toward them. If he was truly to be their brother, then he had to do what brothers do. Only then was he gen-uinely recognizable to them. This story has a valuable reminder for religious brothers today. The name by which we identify our-selves in life and in the church reflects a rich and prophetic spirituality. "Brother" is not only a title, it is what we are. Even more, it is what we are called and committed to do among ourselves, among the people, and for the church. Also, it is ever a reality we must become: it cannot be fully and finally accompJished at the time of our religious profession. In my experience of the church and sodety today, several forces outside lay religious life often contribute Joel Giallanza csc wrote for us as recently as our May-June issue. His formation work continues at Charles Andersen Residence; 320 Brahan Boulevard; San Antonio, Texas 78215. Septe~nber-October 1999 brothers Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brotber" We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. to making brothers unrecognizable, unknown, or unappreciated. One of them is that the church's administration emphasizes-- implicitly and explicitly--the clerical state as normative for min-istry and governance within the church, while brotherhood tends to become invisible or at least peripheral. Another is that in a vari-ety of cultures the term brother is used to designate seminarians and other candidates for presbyteral ordination. From this perspective brotherhood tends to be inter-preted as a transitional stage. These outside forces, how-ever, are not alone in influencing the public perception of brothers. Two internal forces come to mind. Sometimes we define our-selves or allow ourselves to be defined in negative terms, that is, by what we are not: unordained or nonclerical men religious. To go through life with "un" or "non" as the beginning of our self-iden-tity is not a good basis for explaining our vocation. It is even a less good basis for promoting vocations. And sometimes we do not reflect upon sufflciendy and articulate clearly our own identity, including the challenges we face simply because we dare to call ourselves brothers. Being Brother Immediately striking about the term brother is its relational character. It expresses both a specific relationship and a way of being in relationship. For us it assumes that we are willing to enter into relationships with others. It assumes we choose to be involved, not isolated. Though Vita consecrata does not speak extensively about the vocation of brothers in the church, it recognizes four relationships that are to characterize our way of life. These religious are called to be brothers of Christ, deeply united with him, "the firstborn among many brothers" (Rm 8:29); brothers to one another in mutual love and working together in the church in the same service of what is good; brothers to everyone in their witness to Christ's love for all, especially the lowliest, the neediest; brothers for a greater brotherhood in the church (Vita consecrata, §60). Review for Religious I would like to comment on these four relationships and on their prophetic implications. Brothers of the Lord Whatever else we may do, whatever our ministry, the rela-tionship that defines and shapes religious life is our relationship with the Lord. This must be the first and deepest of all our rela-tionships. Jesus says to the disciples, "You are my friends, if you do what I command you . I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from my Father" On 15:14-15). Our relationship with the Lord, our friendship with God, is rooted in knowing and doing what we have learned from the Lord. To be brothers of the Lord is to know the ways of God and to do what the Lord asks of us. To be brothers of the Lord, we must be people of discernment and people of fidelity. We must probe God's will ever deeper and then faithfully put into action all that we discover. We must be skilled in seeing God in all and in seeing all in God. We thereby proclaim and live the intimate closeness of God to this world, even when global events or personal experi-ences provide no evidence or apparently contrary evidence of such intimacy. Brothers with One Another Everything we say about ourselves and about our life together will not be authentic if we do not live in such a way that our com-mon life is marked by love, mutual care and concern, courtesy, hospitality, and a genuine interdependence. Jesus tells us that we will be recognized as his followers if we love one another (see Jn 13:3 5). Note that Jesus does not say what we would be recognized as, if we did not love one another. Could we become completely invisible, thereby rendering impossible any kind of recognition? To be brothers with one another in a religious community is much more than merely getting along; it must go beyond friendly tolerance. There are two important elements here. First, to be brothers with one anothdr is to recognize and accept that we do not live this way of life alone. We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. There must be a mutuality and an interdependence among us by which we September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" strengthen and support one another. Second, to be brothers with one another is apostolic. The quality of our life together commu-nicates something about God's presence and activity in our world. In some areas of the world, we may be the only witnesses people see, the only evidenc~ they have that God is alive and active in their lives and in their culture and society. Brothers to the People Our very title brothers excludes distinctions among us. Nationality, culture, ethnic heritage, education, ministry, natural and acquired skills--all these are gifts that are to unite us, not dif-ferences to be made into walls of division among us. So too our presence among the people must communicate without compro-mise that we make no distinctions, that we welcome and are hos-pitable to all people. To be brothers to the people also influences the way we approach ministry, whatever our ministry. Our apostolic activity among the people must be a model and a means of unity for them. We must be skilled in guiding people to work together, to appre-ciate one another's gifts, and to share those gifts with one another for the good of all. Regardless of the specific nature of our min-istry, this task of facilitating union among the people is a primary aspect of our mission and message as brothers in the church and society today. Brothers for the Church There are many unnecessary distinctions in our church today. Among the most dominant are those between women and men, between lay and ordained persons. Our presence and activity in the church must strive to communicate a perspective free of the kinds of distinctions that can and sometimes do deteriorate into divisions. To be brothers for the church is to live and proclaim, in St. Paul's terms, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male 6r female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). We know it was a risk for St. Paul to preach such a message two thousand years ago. In truth, it is still a risk to preach this today precisely because people can and do establish their identity in distinctions. Any message that seeks to Review for Religious remove distinctions tends to disrupt that identity, thereby stimu-lating responses that range from simple admonition to sharp antag-onism. I believe it is part of the mission of brothers in the church today to preach and to live such a message regardless of the con-sequences. Doing What Brothers Do What I have said so far pertains to being brothers, pertains to our basic identity as lay religious in the church and society. To be brothers of the Lord, with one another, to the people, and for the church will have a definite influence on our doing what brothers do. Doing what brothers do is the prophetic dimension of our life as lay religious. In terms of these four basic relationships, what do we do as brothers? Through our relationship to the Lord, we demonstrate the possibility of living the example of Jesus in today's world. Jesus' example of selflessness, of compassion, of service to others is not popular today. We observe the sustained promotion and tenacity of an individualism which condones and constructs self-contained and closed styles of life that do not readily respond to the influence or needs of others. The danger is that Jesus' example could be placed on the shelf of items that are no longer realistic or useful for our world: items that are fine for museums of ancient artifacts, but not really relevant for everyday life in contemporary culture. To do what brothers do is a clear expression of the importance, necessity, and urgency of Jesus' example for today. Through our relationship with one another, we demonstrate the possibility of love and reconciliation. In a world where self-ishness and self-containment become the ways of relating to one another, love and reconciliation become ever more rare. Personal histories, past mistakes, and present weaknesses become conve-nient excuses for not reaching beyond ourselves to love, to for-give, to be reconciled with others. And yet it is only through our humanity--with our histories and mistakes and weaknesses--that we can love one another. To do what brothers do means commit-ting ourselves to love and forgive and reconcile, and to take up whatever means are necessary to live that commitment every day. Through our relationship to the people, we demonstrate the possibility of living in peace and unity. The rich diversity repre-sented in social, political, religious, cultural, and ethnic differ- September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" ences is too often used as a basis for creating divisions among peo-ple. And as the barriers supporting those divisions become stronger, mutual destruction appears more effective and efficient than coop-erative dialogue. Conflict, violence, war then become the usual ways of dealing with differences in life. To do what brothers do means making every effort to show that the differences among people are graces and blessings to be celebrated, not burdens and bothers to be shunned. Through our brotherly relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility of living and ministering in equality. This equality is not uniformity; there can and must be distinctions among the many necessary ministries within the church. The important and imperative idea here is to help maintain the link between those many ministries and the common good of the Body of Christ. To create and then vindicate situations in which peo-ple are excluded or treated slightingly is not acceptable. Ignoring such situations is also not acceptable. To do what brothers do means pointing out injustices and inconsistencies--in our society, but most especially in our church. We will not be popular for iden-tifying such realities, but to neglect doing so would contradict what we profess to be and to do. The Haunting Question Male lay religious are often confronted with the simple but haunting question "What is a brother?" Brothers themselves, as well as other church ministers, struggle with formulating a satis-factory response. I do not believe that any response, however elo-quent and theologically sound, will ever be satisfactory. Indeed, it cannot be. If being a brother and doing what brothers do is at heart a matter of relationship, then our identity as brothers will be found in our actions, in our witness and our way of relating to the Lord, to one another, to others, and to the church. Thus, the only worthy answer to "What is a brother?" is simply "Watch us! Watch what we do, how we behave. Observe our love, care, concern, com-passion. Watch us. Then you will see and know what being a brother is." Are we willing to make that response? Will the integrity, consistency, and quality of our lives withstand such close scrutiny? The precedent for this response has been established already. When asked by John the Baptist's disciples, "Are you the one who Review for Religious is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus responds, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the leper~ are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them" (Mt 11:3- 5). Jesus' response invites a simple and direct method: observe, then report what you see. Could it be that we work to enhance the eloquence of our language and the soundness of our theology in responding to "What is a brother?" because we hesitate to say "Watch us"? Obviously, to invite close observation is to imply an integrity and a quality of life that are beyond question or com-promise. Writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul is boldly explicit in continuing Jesus' precedent: "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). In fact, no less than seven times does Paul make this recommendation in his correspon-dence with the early Christian commu-nities (see 1 Co 4:16 and 11:1; Ph 3:17 and 4:19; 1 Th 1:6; 2 Th 3:7 and 9). We might wince at the bluntness--almost arrogance--of his recommendation. Nevertheless, the only way to avoid rel-egating Jesus' example to the realm of theoretical ideals is by a practical demonstration of it. Only a living example can accomplish that demonstration effectively. Brothers must live in such a way that we can make this Pauline recommendation with confidence and integrity. If we believe that our God is incarnational, then the example of our own lives must be the first of all our responses to the simple question "What is a brother?" Again, we must ask ourselves about our willingness and ability to make that response. Any other response, whether from an individual religious or froma general chapter, will fall short of the convincing and transforming power inherent in a living example. Being brothers and doing what brothers do involve decisions regarding a belief and a behavior. The belief is that the example of our brotherhood, as a reflection of Jesus' own, is necessary for society and for the church today--and tomorrow. The behavior is our effort to follow Jesus with integri.ty, simplicity, and fidelity. Through our brotherly .relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility Of living and ministering in equality. September-October 1999 Giallanza * "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" This belief and behavior must stem from deliberate decisions, for they will not and cannot come into being by themselves. If they do not find explicit expression in our daily lives and activities, then they do not exist at all. If we cannot invite the world to "Watch us" when we are asked about the identity and meaning of our life as brothers, then we have only words. Such words die in thin air without living exam-ples to certify their truth. Action verifies articulations; witness confirms words. When action and witness are separated from artic-ulations and words, credibility is compromised. To speak and to act, together, must constitute our effort to define who and what we are as religious brothers and, being brothers, what we do. All else is shifting sand. All else contributes to the continued invisibility of religious brothers within the church and society. Being and Doing To be brothers and to do what brothers do are inseparable. We must strive for consistency in our life so that what we per-ceive and profess ourselves to be and what we do become a single reality. Otherwise we compromise the quality of any prophetic presence and activity we would have in the world. To be and to do as brothers of the Lord, we must be men of integrity, firmly rooted in the Lord. To be and to do as brothers with one another, we must be men of communion, who willingly choose the interdependence necessary for a healthy and whole life. To be and to do as brothers to others, we must be men of mis-sion, who love others through compassion and service. To be and to do as brothers for the church, we must be men willing to pro-vide challenge, whose commitment to the church enables us to question its inconsistencies even as we continue to love it. In the Book of Genesis, the challenge confronting Joseph is both to reveal his identity and to witness to the truth of that rev-elation. He begins with a simple invitation, "Come closer to me." He invites closer scrutiny and careful listening, confident that he will be recognized and accepted for who and what he claims to be. We religious brothers, by the very nature of our vocation, must extend the same invitation in all our relationships. The witness of our integrity, our sense of communion and mission, and the chal-lenge we present will confirm or contradict the truth of what we claim to be and profess to do. Vita consecrata says that brothers participate in the "mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life" (§60). Such proclamation and such witness are responsibilities we bear and services we provide. They are the heart of our invitation to "Watch us"--to "Come closer" and see ¯. "I am your brother." Questions for Personal and Communal Reflection These brief reflections need fi~rther refinement from the particular cultures and contexts in which brothers live and minister around the world today. In fact, the most sound theologies of religious brotherhood today will conte from within those cultures and contexts. Generic theologies of religious life, by attempting to speak to everyone, run the risk of speaking to no one. As we continue to reflect on and discuss various dimensions of our religious life, we must remain ever attentive to the specific culture and context in which we live and minis-ter. The following questions are offered as a starting point for individuals and for communities. For us as brothers of the Lord, what aspects of Jesus' example and teaching are particularly striking and significant, given the heritage of our religious congregation and the particular culture in which we live and minister? As brothers with one another, what do we desire people to see in us through our life together? What do we believe our wimess communicates to people? What evidence do we have to support that belief?. As brothers to the people, what means do we use to foster peace and unity among them? How do our ministries serve towards dialogue and reconciliation? As brothers for the church, what efforts do we or could we make in our local area to emphasize the equality of persons within the church? With what specific challenges does our heritage as a congregation con-front the church? In which aspects of our life are we confident in saying "Come closer"? In which aspects of our life fire we hesitant about saying "Watch us" in response to people's questions about our vocation? What are the principal gifts we bring as brothers to this cultural set-ring? What are the principal social and ecclesial challenges confronting us today as brothers in this cultural setting? What is the most attractive quality about our religious life in this cultural setting? What is least attractive? What means would be effective in the particular culture where we live and minister for educating the people and the church about the voca-tion of brothers? In addition to the witness of our life, what are effective strategies for promoting vocations to religious brotherhood today? Septentber-October 1999 PAUL BEDNARCZYK Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Religious congregations of brothers can no longer ignore the question of new membership. The "vocation crisis" is staring us in the face. We can debate more effective governmen-tal structures, we can plan new mission orientations, and we can write more documents about solidarity with the poor, but, unless new members join our communities, what will it all mean fifty years from now? The membership crunch seems to be hitting home more now than ever. In many dioceses and religious congregations, the vocation question has been moved to the forefront. At their annual national meeting three years ago, the United States bishops agreed on a comprehensive strategy for vocations to the priesthood and reli-gious life. In June 1998 the U.S. bishops' committee on vocations sponsored a national symposium that had an overwhelming atten-dance. In addition, both the men's and women's religious leader-ship conferences--the Conferences of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM), the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), and the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious (CMSWR)--are exploring how leadership corporately can be more active in promoting the priesthood and religious life. For the past thirty-some years, we have quietly and sometimes unconsciously watched more brothers leave our corigregations than Paul Bednarczyk CSC, of his congregation's eastern province, first published this article in Horizon, a journal for vocation directors. His address is Congregation of Holy Cross; 85 Overlook Circle; New Rochelle, New York 10804. Review for Religious enter them. We prayed for vocations, and many communities even maintained their commitment to a full-time vocation director, but few prospects have joined our prenovitiate programs. Although over the years there was a general concern about the lack of new members, still--because numbers of brothers remained in the "work force"--we felt somewhat comfortable regarding our num-bers. These days are now gone. Our congregations are aging, men are retiring, and fewer members remain in full-time ministry. Our younger members continue to be few. We must confront the new-membership question. Much has been written about societal factors that create a cli-mate unfavorable to religious vocations. Family and neighborhood structures are no longer what they once were. We are witnessing changing definitions of family: single-parent homes, blended fam-ilies, children being raised by gay or lesbian couples. In addition, physical, sexual, drug, and alcohol abuse have greatly impacted the trust and stability that families need. Individualism and mate-rialism have consumed our American culture. Authority is looked upon cynically and institutions are considered suspect. Combine that with young people's inability or reluctance to make commit-ments, and religious vocations become an uphill battle. The changing face of the American Catholic and the tension between Catholic teaching and American values also have an impact on the numbers of religious vocations. The rising multi-culturalism of U.S. Catholics challenges us. Many Hispanic peo-ple continue to abandon the Catholic faith of their ancestors for fundamental and evangelical groups. Polls claim that many Catholics believe that the church's teaching on contraception, homosexuality, and premarital sex is outdated. Although young adults in general do not see the difference between clerical and religious celibacy, they will say that celibacy is the primary rea-son why they would not be a priest or a religious. Likewise, given our democratic values, American Catholics must reconcile them-selves with a church that does not function democratically. I believe it important to mention these factors at the outset because, although they are beyond our control, they have an effect on our religious-vocation promotion. In this paper I intend to share my own reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers. Although I belong to the Congregation of Holy Cross, I have shared some of these ideas with brothers in other religious congregations. We are not alone in our struggle. After five years Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brothers as vocation director, I offer thoughts I have gleaned from numer-ous vocation talks I have heard and given, from many meetings and discussions withadolescents and young adults, from direct-ing men and women on both personal and group discernment retreats, and from my association with other vocation directors both regionally and nationally. 492 A Question of Visibility We religious brothers are invisible. To put it more precisely, people generally have no clear idea about who or what we are. I say this neither cavalierly nor despairingly, but as simple truth. Part of this is the reality that we are fewer in number. In the United States, according to thd 1998 official Catholic Directory, the number of religious brothers dropped in 1997-98 by 178, resulting in a national total of 6115. Of course, many of these are retired or infirm and therefore no longer engaged in part- or full-time min-istry- and so are even more invisible. Brothers in teaching congregations cannot assume that the freshmen entering our high schools in September know what a religious brother is. Even though some come to us from Catholic grade schools, many have not met a religious brother or sister and know little or nothing about religious life. If they do have a min-imal understanding oic our life, most likely their perceptions have been influenced by what they see in the media, which is often dis-torted, stereotyped, and scandal ridden. Their parents, too, a generation that had greater exposure to religious in classrooms and parishes, have limited understandings of religious life. They may have romanticized notions of who we once were or, on the other hand, may endlessly repeat stories of brothers and sisters maintaining uncompromising discipline and inflicting harsh corporal punishments. In addition, people are con-fused by the polarization of the various religious lifestyles. How do lay people find a balance among various extreme "liberal" and "conservative" positions taken by religious men and women? How do they understand community when the religious they know live in private apartments or are in scattered communities of twos and threes? Although there are justifications for various places on the spectrum, the average persons in the pews just do not understand. I think it safe to say that they are confused, just as we are at times. The question of visibility is more complex than the reality of Review for Relig~o~!s fewer members. It is, I believe, also related to a greater issue in the church. Without a doubt, within the past twenty years our church has become increasingly clerical. At a time when there are fewer and fewer priests, lay religious life is not always promoted in the church as enthusiastically or emphatically as it could be. In litur-gies all of us have heard public prayers for vocations to the priest-hood and privately wondered why we were not also praying for vocations to the religious life. I do not think these omissions are intentional. When I have respectfully asked presiders to include in their future prayers of petition a mention of an increase in candi-dates for religious life as well, I was usually met with sincere apolo-gies and a response such as "To tell you the truth, I didn't even think of it." Such admitted forgetfulness is disarming, but the response remains a telling one. Another reality is that many bishops and priests are "gun shy" of religious men and women. Since many of their dealings with us have been confrontational and neg-ative, it seems they may be choosing to either ignore or avoid us in order to avoid future hostile situa-tions. Likewise, we religious have suffered from our own antago-nisms with the clergy and the hierarchy, and we too may choose to either ignore or avoid them. My point is not to say that we are right and they are wrong, but rather that stereotypes and false generalizations held by either party only lead to further break-downs in communication and in understanding one another's voca-tions in the church. If we assume an "us and them" mentality, we add to the divisiveness that already exists here and there in our church, and it is the church, the people of God, that ultimately suffers from such internal strife. To pin the blame of our invisibility solely on the church would be both unjust and inaccurate. We brothers must own the fact that some of us have chosen to be invisible. In the neighborhoods of some of our communities, I would conjecture that most of the neighbors are unaware that there is a religious community of men living on their block. Instead of participating in the life of our local parish community, some of us have chosen instead to par-ticipate anonymously in a nearby parish that may provide a better liturgy or choir. At a time when many teaching congregations have made concerted and successful efforts at connecting the mission of We religious brothers are invisible. September-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brotbers their schools with the mission and charism of their community, some brothers choose not to participate in school activities, often to the dismay and wonder of lay colleagues, parents, and alumni. Although reasons for these examples may be acceptable to us, we must realize that such choices promote further invisibility and anonymity, something which we brothers can no longer afford. Without a public presence, our hope for future vocations is dim. The old clich~ has much truth: "Out of sight, out of mind." Not being part of the clerical hierarchy has given us a unique freedom that is comfortable. I heard one brother say about the hierarchy: "It's good that they forget about us--this way they leave us alone!" We come to a religious community not to dis-tance ourselves from the existing tensions or authority in the institutional church, nor to find a supportive haven for our anger against church authority, nor, for that matter, to promote our own church agenda. As consecrated religious we are men of the church and in the church. Our vocation by its very nature calls us to deepen our baptismal commitment and our relationship with the people of God. The faithful see us and look to us for who and what we are: men who through our vows have consecrated ourselves totally to God and to service within the church. They expect us to be integral to the church: when they do not see this, they are surprised and confused. If we are going to welcome men into our communities, I believe that we must all realistically deal with our feelings and beliefs about the church of today--not the church of yesterday or tomorrow, but the church of today in all of its glory and weakness. Generational Differences The majority of us have lived through the social, political, and ecclesial turbulence of the 1960s. We experienced the devastation of political assassinations, the power of the people in working for justice, and the sense of betrayal and shame that resulted from Watergate. We mourned the violence and casualties of the Vietnam War and of the racial wars that were erupting in our city streets. We underwent our own personal and spiritual transformations after the drastic changes set in motion by the Second Vatican Council. Suddenly our equilibrium was shaken. We experienced a shift in values from uniformity to diversity, from authoritarianism to collegiality, from commonality to individuality. Review for Religious We dealt with these dramatic events and changes in a variety of ways. Some simply left religious life. It seems to have been a good decision for some, once they discovered they .may have become brothers for the wrong reasons. On the other hand, oth-ers left and we still wonder why. Regarding these departures we still grieve. And, into the bargain, some of us have stayed. What are our reasons for remaining? After these radical shifts in church, society, and culture, has our dependence upon God and one another deepened, or have we learned instead to place more trust in our own self and in our material security? Have our vows increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Do we face the uncertainty of the future with excitement and hope, or with cynicism and despair? If we are to witness to an attractive lifestyle option, we must answer these questions honestly and reexamine our own commitment to religious life. Unlike many of us who were brought up with the order and constancy of a triumphal church, our young people today have experienced conflicting messages from a church in transition, and they seek, simply, truth. In the face of New Age spirituality and watered-down Christianity, there are those who, in their desire to know more of what it means to be Catholic, resort to tangible, traditionally Catholic symbols. I find it fascinating that Exposition and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament is making a comeback on college campuses. In the midst of the noise and rush of their aca-demic lives, students appreciate the hour of silence in the pres-ence of Mystery. Similarly, young adults are rediscovering the virtue of Mary, and have found the rosary to be an attractive form of prayer that is identifiably Catholic. Some ofos may be quick to categorize these young people as conservative or wacky, but these are students who volunteer weekly at local soup kitchens and par-ticipate in "alternative" spring breaks with Habitat for Humanity. They are also class officers, athletes, and students on the dean's list. As I have discovered, our younger people defy the neat and tight boxes in which we tend to categorize them. Have our VOWS increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Relig4ous Brothers To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is inconvenient and at times even uncomfortable. In my meetings with men who are exploring a vocation, I have found that it is not because of ministry, education, or social-justice convictions that they are drawn to religious life. Our church has evolved to where, if this were their primary desire, they could eas-ily do this in a Catholic institution as laypersons. They are com-ing to us first and foremost for the religious life itself. To live in the secular world as a committed Christian espousing Catholic values is difficult for them. They admit their need for a community of like-minded individuals who could strengthen their love for God and their Catholic convic-tions. They are not looking for just a nice group of people who do good work. They are looking for men who know and can lead them to God and who can give them a sense of hope in a world that has become increasingly pessimistic and destructive. They want to pray together, share their faith, and bring the Good News to people through their ministry. They acknowledge the Eucharist as central to our faith, and they have devotion to it. Since they often come from an unchurched, nontraditional back-ground, they seek structure and definition. From our community perspective, that is quite an order to fill! Some of you who are reading this are probably wincing and saying, "I thought we got away from that years ago!" To put it simply, I believe we find ourselves in the middle of a generation gap. Thirty years ago some brothers retained their habits, sat in their pews, and looked with distaste upon those who wore jeans and colored shirts and prayed on throw pillows. They thought that, for sure, religious life was quickly going down the tubes. The younger brothers, however, challenged the older brothers to renew their zeal for religious life by adapting to a different lifestyle, one that was based more on shared expressions of faith and on more interpersonal, communal living. Likewise, the younger members were taught by the elders to appreciate the tradition of our life and consequently were enriched by their fidelity to their vows in the face of change. Since some of us have lost a younger generation in our con-gregations, we have forgotten what it is like to be challenged by the young. The lively community dynamic that occurs with the mix- Review for Religious ture of generations--the elderly, the middle-aged, the young--does not happen in many of our local communities. As a result, many of us have grown comfortable with one another and in our life together. For the majority of us, the mutual challenges and exchanges that we all remember from our earlier years and that occur naturally between the young and old do not happen anymore. At forty-one years old, I am still considered one of the "young" brothers in my community. I realize that much of my religious life has been lived with men older than myself. Although I am thank-ful for the benefit of their example and wisdom, as I enter my own midlife I realize that I have been deprived of living with the con-tagious energy and enthusiasm of much younger religious. I know that I need at times to be challenged to think in new ways and to experience life differently. Most of us are middle-aged or older. If we are to have a newer generation following us, we must--even if it becomes increasingly more difficult as we age--be open to the renewal of our basic val-ues: prayer, community, and lifestyle. Ironically, those who are considering religious life look for deeper community experiences while some veterans of thirty or forty years say they are tired of the routine and demands in community. How do we bridge this gap? To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is incon-venient and at times even uncomfortable, but I know of no other way. Although youthful idealism may need some tempering, we must admit that at least it is refreshing. We have now become the "older" brothers of yesterday, and, like the older ones of thirty years ago, we too are invited to new ways of thinking and being as we look to the next generation in religious life. I do not believe that age has to be a deterring factor. When I hosted discernment retreats for prospective candidates at our retire-ment facility, I would invite three of our elderly brothers to tell their vocation stories. The combined witness of almost two hundred years of faithful religious life is better than any vocation brochure I could ever design! Their authentic fulfillment in Holy Cross and their continuing joy and vitality were always evidence to these interested men that this life can be lived and can be lived well. Our young people look to their elders for inspiration. They hunger for the wisdom that comes from living a prayerful and reflective life with God. If, however, they see stagnation, apathy, and cynicism, they are left disillusioned and wanting. For many of us, our lives as religious have been deeply enriching and grace filled, and yet some September-October 1999 Bednarczyk * ReligiousBrotbers of us are reluctant to share these experiences with each other. We underestimate at times the power of our stories. In many religious congregations it has been the tradition to respond to "the signs of the times" and to the contemporary needs of the church. I maintain that we need to continue this spirit of openness not only to our mission and ministries, but also to our religious lives as well. The Answer Is in the Present I do not claim to have the answers for the future. To be truth-ful, my worry is not for the future, nor is it for the past. It is the present that is my concern. We can only theorize about the future, as we can only reminisce about the past. Such intellectual exer-cises tend to distance us from the responsibility of making neces-sary choices about our lives and our community in the present. In general, given the societal changes and challenges discussed above, some recerit shifts in our culture seem to coalesce with our lives as religious brothers. For example, our society displays a renewed interest in spirituality. Celebrities from Oprah to Madonna have made daily meditation chic again! With the pro-liferation of self-help and support groups for every issue imagin-able, people long for connection and belonging. They desire "to share their story" and to be validated by a group. Corporations are supportive of community service, and some school systems have included service components in their curricula. As a result, volunteerism is at an all-time high. Ironically, many authors are making lots of money with their best-selling books on how to sim-plify one's lifestyle. It would seem that religious brotherhood would somehow fit into this picture. Our life is a wonderful secret that needs to be shared more now than ever before. As religious brothers we bring, I believe, a special gift to the church. Our faith teaches us about a God whose love is uncondi-tional and whose mercy is unlimited. If faithfully and genuinely lived, our vows attest that fulfillment is to be found more in the transcendent than in the transitory. Where division and broken relationships characterize many families and marriages, our com-mitment to community life, despite its inherent struggles, myste-riously witnesses to welcome, order, acceptance, and equality. I have read many books and articles detailing futures for reli-gious life in temporary vowed commitments, lay associate mem- Review for Religious bership, satellite communities, blended communities, and so forth. All of that makes for interesting reading and good discussion, but I return to the question: What about now? How do we live now the vows we professed, however many years ago? Do we do so with the passion, zeal, and love of our early years? I do not believe that the answer to the challenges of our pre-sent situation is as simple as the reconstruction of past external structures. Our lives are much more complex today than they were thirty years ago. No one can deny that our traditional structures served us well, considering the church and spirituality of the time, but it would be naive to expect the former ways to meet our con-temporary needs. We can romanticize about the past, but we know that it is impossible to turn the clock back. I am, however, not convinced--at least in my own congrega-tion- that we are at present compelled to create new models and forms of vowed religious life. We do not need to reinvent the wheel. We need to insure that the wheel we already have is on the right track. Besides, since Vatican II, a number of experimental lay and religious communities have already been formed, imple-menting exciting new models of lifestyle and commitment. How they will fare in the future, only time will tell. I am convinced that as brothers we need to reclaim who and what we are. We are men of the church vowed to a life of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. We commit ourselves to a life of prayer and mission with each other in community. Given today's society and culture, these core values are what make us countercultural. Our vows are meant to be lived joyfully, with hope. This life was meant to be lived in relationship with God and with one another. Our challenging times invite us to probe and to enter more deeply into the essence of our vows and the mysterious grace that comes with this life. I believe in the gift of religious life, and particularly in the gift of religious brotherhood. I want a future for us because I believe the church would b6 lacking without us. Knowing how much I have been enriched by my own vocation to Holy Cross, I desire to share this gift with a new generation of religious. I am sure that the majority of members in our communities desires the same, but to do this requires conversion and a courageous open-ness to the Spirit that speaks to us today--and not yesterday and not tomorrow. [--z~00 September-October 1999 AVIS CLENDENEN II On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming journeying It has been sixteen years since I requested and received a dispensation from my religious vows. The following reflection explores--from ethical, psychological, and theological perspectives-- the experience of malting and breaking promises and leaving the vowed religious life. Principally I will be drawing upon the ethical con-siderafions of Sister Margaret Farley RSM, the psycho-logical insights of Dr. Carl Rogers, and the theological depth of Father Karl Rahner SJ. These pages reveal a slice of an experience shared by many--that is, the mak-ing of a religious commitment, living in a vowed reli-gious community for years, developing bonds of trust and friendship, experiencing a crisis of fidelity, discov-ering the personal inability/choice to sustain the orig-inal commitment, and ultimately breaking the commitment and leaving religious life. A suspicion I had as I thought about examining the psychology and theology behind the making and break-ing of promises was that Rogers and Rahner had more than their first names in common. I sensed they shared a fundamental understanding of the human person, the Avis Clendenen PhD, associate professor of religious stud-ies and director of the Pastoral Ministry Institute, teaches pastoral theology and ministry at Saint Xavier University in Chicago, where she can be reached: 3700 West |03rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Revie~v for Religimts human dilemma, and the graced and flawed human quest of becom-ing whole and free. The following reflection reveals some signif-icant connections between Rogerian psychology and Rahnerian theology and offers a way of viewing the painful process of leave-taking and becoming. The painful and hopeful contours of this all-too-familiar experience can be traversed again in openness to the possibility of deeper revelations about the choices we make that sustain our word of love. Sixteen years from my departure after a thirteen-year commitment gives me perspective and a desire to return and examine the process of making promises, breaking promises, and becoming. In the fall of 1969 at nineteen years of age I entered the Sisters of Mercy. My letter of request to enter was all of two paragraphs composed by a nineteen-year-old touched and transformed, as late teens can be, by the turbulent events of the 1960s: My reason for choosing religious life as my way of life is because this in the only life that makes sense to me, as an individual. I want to express my life as a commitment of love to God and His Church. I am not quite sure why there is an attraction to the Mercy order in particular, but I believe my potential for giving and receiving, of freedom and ful-fillment, lie within this community. By the time I would profess my final vows in 1978, all refer-ences to God in the masculine pronoun were to be stricken from my vocabulary. By 1978 1 would be a graduate of the Jesuit School of Theology, having been the first woman admitted to its master-of- divinity program. Throughout the 1970s I struggled with the weight of a patriarchal church, including the graces and conflicts surrounding the inclusion of women in all ministries of the church. I would, over the expanse of years, come to greater clarity as to my "attraction" to the Sisters of Mercy as women of valor and vision, with a deepening sense of gratitude for the reciprocity of our rela-tionship. The issues of freedom and fulfillment became bemus-ing, and the turbulent times never did seem to abate. At thirty-three years of age, thirteen years after my entrance and less than four years after my final profession, I received a dis-pensation from my vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. The following are excerpts from the letter I wrote to the provincial administrator, initiating the formal leave-taking process: To try and summarize all the spiritual and psychological investigations I have done would be an injustice to all that has September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming gone into this decision. To say too little would be an injus-tice to the quality of relationship I have shared as a Sister of Mercy throughout these years. I feel great pain as I accept responsibility for breaking my promises. But it was the pain of remaining in religious community that finally made the decision. I have asked myself again and again about the truth and integrity of the final commitment professed in 1978. That moment expressed the insight and honesty that was available to me; and while only four years ago, it's been a lifetime. In the months I have lived alone, I have read all the journals from my thirteen years as a Sister of Mercy. I saw the patterns of my struggles repeated year upon year. I read and remembered delightful times in community. My loneli-ness lines many pages. Notes from numerous retreats reminded me of my love for God. And, oh, the growing rage at the institutional church as it demeaned me and our efforts for women's voice and body to be celebrated all places, including the altar. I do not believe that in asking for a dispensation from my religious vows I am walking away from the vision of Catherine McAuley, the works of mercy, the body of Christ, or the commitment with feminists to liberate ourselves from the patriarchy. I am stepping away from a vowed relationship among you. I promised to persevere for life. I believe I per-severed until there .was no more life for me. I am so very sorry. I do not look for understanding, I~ut I will always expect compassion for that is why we bear our name. For the compassion that has been shown me and I have shared with you, for the years of service given expres-sion to as a Sister of Mercy, for the treasured moments and persons, I will always be grateful. I remain a believer and a daughter of Catherine McAuley. I hold now with courage and trepidation her legacy, my Bible, and I turn a corner. And trust. To Give One's Word Yale University Professor of Christian Ethics and Sister of Mercy Margaret Farley's tough thinking on the meaning of fidelity and its claim of obligation form an important frame of reference in analyzing whether one has the moral sanction to end a com-mitment. Sister Margaret Farley wrote her book on commitment in the late 1980s, when the permanency of commitments in American marriages teetered at a fifty-percent divorce rate and when "defection" from the priesthood and religious life in the Review for Religious American Catholic Church continued to deplete the ranks of ordained and vowed Catholic ecclesial leaders. For many years I successfully avoided Margaret Farley's 1986 book Personal Commitments: Beginning. Keeping. Changing. Research for this article inevitably led me back to her work and the challenges to think hard about why we give our word in mak-ing commitments, why we are obliged to keep them, and under what circumstances we may be morally released from them. Farley suggests that the rise of the human-potential movement served to shift the goals of many from the challenges of permanent commit-ment, fidelity, and responsibility, toward the increasing warrant of the call for per-sonal growth and self-actualization. It was as if these two venues for being and becoming were mutually exclusive. Those who had previously interpreted their life in terms of a religious vocation began to claim the. need to transfer voca-tion from one locus to another. "It was not always easy to tell whether these were expressions of faithfulness or of irresponsibility and betrayal."' What does it mean to say you make a promise with a sense of its truth and integrity and then years later suggest that your insights and sense of integrity have changed so signifi-cantly as to justify a breaking of the bonds and a release from obli-gation? Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed fr6m the vows professed in an act of freedom, a free action always given into the hands of an uncertain future? As Farley eloquently explains, commitment has to do with the free action of free persons who give their word as part of them-selves. Commitment m~ans to give my word because that word belongs to me and I freely choose to entrust it to another's keep-ing. In a sense, commitment means to share with one or more per-sons claims on my being there in a promised way with and for them. While my word is "given away," paradoxically I still pos-sess it because it is myself. In commitment we freely take on an obligation to do as we have promised. The motivation for the kind of commitment we are discussing here is always love. "By assuming certain frameworks for love, we Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed from the vows professed in an act of freedom, September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming commit ourselves to whatever we understand essentially to con-stitute this framework."2 The profession of religious vows to be lived in the mic

Issue 56.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1997. ; for relig i ou s Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the joumml are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Lonis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I:OPI~ EMA@SLUVCA.SI~U. E DU Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDouough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ° Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional ,nailing offices. See inside back cover for iuformation on subscription rates. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an), material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal t, se of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear uotice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will o,aly be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisoty Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages.and Contemporary Living JA~NUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents living the consecrated life ~ 6 The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? Nadine Foley OP highlights the living tradition of consecrated life evidenced in the phrase "consecration for mission" and its development in Vita consecrata. The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life Brian J. Pierce oP comments on his post-Vatican II experience of contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor. Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Edward van Merrienboer OP describes five types of members seeking permission to leave and the behaviors that led to their petitions. growing as christians 37 Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Hilary Ot~ensmeyer OSB proposes a dynamic based on the framework of the four seasons for Christian groups to reach new levels of sharing. Inner Work with You~ Anger 'Paul Duckro, Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ present the potential of a contemplative or meditational encounter with anger, so linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. On Letting Go Denise M. Callaghan SSND reflects on the pervasiveness of a "letting go" in the continuing call of God to us as individuals and as a community. Review for Religious 59 loving as celibates Nuptial Love and Discerning Celibacy's Call Daniel J. Trapp examines the specific call to celibacy as a spousal response to Christ's love. Consecrated Celibacy as Means, Peril, and Delight Melannie Svoboda SND describes a few aspects of the religious experience of consecrated celibacy which is rooted in the unfathomable mystery of God's radical-mad love. 72 finding God Mystical Moments in Daily Life Matthias Neuman OSB calls attention to the mystical moments that reveal a transcendent mysteriousness and often a holy . presence which are a part of our ordinary faith experience. Silence Donald Macdonald SMM points the ways in which silence helps us perceive the priceless gift of a Spirit-filled world. Jesus, Power, and the ONE Edmundo Rodriguez SJ presents a way of understanding how action on behalf of justice is sanctioned by the life and teaching of Jesus. departments Prisms ~.,~ /~o ~ ~-,~, ~-Jf~o,o- Canonical Counsel: Diocesan Institutes and Pontifical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1997 prisms Jesus is the focus of this year's celebra-tions preparatory to the coming third millennium. In John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," the thematic structure of the three-year period 1997- 1999 is Trinitarian. Since the distinctly Christological char-acter of the jubilee is a primary emphasis, the first year, 1997, is devoted to "reflection on Christ, the Word of God, made man by the power of the Holy Spirit" (40). National conferences of bishops, local dioceses and individual parishes, religious congregational provinces, and other church organizations have proposed various ways of entering into this reflection on Christ: Some helpful study aids, reflection guides, and discussion outlines are available. Programs and conferences, gatherings among various Christian churches, and especially prayer services are planned throughout .the year. We all are called to become a part of this movement-- like a three-year-long Advent preparation--to celebrate our Christian jubilee. The challenge for each of us is accept-ing our responsibility "to know Christ Jesus" and acting on it. Knowing Jesus was a constant theme of St. Paul's writ-ings to the young churches. It is the theme reemphasized in our preparation for celebrating the millennium. How do we come to know Jesus? Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each give us a way of knowing Jesus. Every Gospel account became a composite reflection of the stories told about Jesus within an evange-list's particular community. Details and settings of the same stories differ from Gospel account to Gospel account, and it does not matter. Each way of telling the story is true in its Review for Religious ability to give us an entrance into knowing Jesus. At one moment in our lives, through the Gospel of Mark we may find ourselves impressed by the immediate sense of Jesus' activism, the uncluttered quality of his speech, the directness of his affective response. At another time we appreciate the Jesus of Luke's Gospel, who appears so much the person of prayer, compassion, and lively joy. Sometimes the longer wisdom stories of John's Gospel and the image-identity language of being bread, life, light, vine, shepherd, gate, or para-clete call us to pe~r deep into our well of meditation. Over and over as we move through the Gospels, we find ourselves always com-ing to know Jesus~ Perhaps, taking our cue from St. Paul, we might discover anew the insight especially applicable to our millennium preparation. Necessary and helpful as the Gospel accounts are for our knowing Jesus, only in entering into our own experience will we find the Jesus who calls us by name, knocks at the door of our heart, and persists in bringing about the fullness of the reign ofGod. St. Paul was marked forever by his experience of One saying to him, "It is Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting." For Paul there was no confusion of James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia with Jesus. But Paul realized that, in his dealings with James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia, he was also dealing with Jesus and coming to know him more, Paul came to know Jesus the more he preached and the. more he worked with all the people in his churches and the more he prayed. What Paul focuses for each of us is the Jesus in front of us, the Jesus whose coming we await by the way we live and minis-ter now. Jesus in his total gift of living and dying and Jesus in his sure promise of coming is always being made present to us in the Eucharist and so in his Body, the church. We experience Jesus. Experiencing Jesus is more than studying Christology or gospel reading. Experiencing Jesus is more than serving a, soup line or demonstrating for peace. Experiencing Jesus is knowing Jesus in the way that Paul exhorts his churches to know Jesus and to let themselves be seen as models of imitation because of that knowl-edge. The demand for people who know Jesus in this way has never been so clearly expressed as it is in the pope's apostolic letter. In John's Gospel, the story is told of some Greeks who came forward to Philip, making the request "We want to see Jesus." How will we, with the question coming both from within us and from with-out, respond this year to that request? David L. Fleming SJ ~anuary-FebtwaO, 1997 living the consecrated life NADINE FOLEY The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? A number of years ago, in one of those seemingly endless discussions about the character of religious life that flour-ished among women religious after Vatican Council II, I remember making a reference to the evolution of reli-gious life. Within my hearing a canonist vehemently snapped out an objection. "Her response startled me; I could not see a reason for her agitated insistence. Was it the word evolution? The word seemed appropriate to me as a member of a religious congregation of women whose founders, responding to needs of the mid-1800s, emerged from their cloistered life in Regensburg, Germany, and ,.met the challenges of ministry in their new home in America. The move was not merely geographical. It entailed considerable adaptation of their lifestyle, their sense of mission, and ultimately their self-identity as a religious congregation of women. Their revered daily reg-imen of discipline and prayer as Second Order Dominican nuns was not immediately adaptable to what they were to undertake in a new and strange world. In due time they made the wrenching decision to become conventual Third Order Dominicans, an available alternative within Dominican structures. Was this development some kind of evolution? Nadine Foley OP, a former president of the Leadership Council of Women Religious (LCWR), is professor of religious studies at Siena Heights College and is historian for the Adrian Dominican Sisters. She can be addressed at 1257 East Siena Heights Drive; Adrian, Michigan 49221. Review for Religious Other institutes of women religious, founded directly for active apostolic or ministerial life, came sooner or later to share much similarity with active institutes such as mine that have their ¯ historical roots in the cloistered contemplative life. For both of these groups, there were expectations of meeting the obligations that had pertained to contemplative life: separation from the world, limited contact with the laity, conformity in dress and often in demeanor, a set horarium of prayer and liturgical observance, and disciplinary practices of silence, self-abnegation, and obedi-ence. Many of these were unique to women religious and not shared by their male counterparts. But changes were occurring in women's religious life without the appropriate "infrastructure" to support it. Modifications were made--dropping night vigils and prayers, from the daily horarium, omitting face veils from the prescribed dress, and the like--but tensions often existed, whether acknowledged or not. The model for the religious life of women remained that of the enclosure. The 1917 Code of Canon Law, welcome in many respects, more or :less fixed the ambiguity canonically in the sense that its architects--and, no doubt, members of religious institutes as well--did not have a clear perception that something new was emerging in religious life and might require a new look at the canonical legislation. In the 1930s and 1940s religious congrega-tions hastened .to write new constitutions in conformity with the Code while at the same time many made formal application for the status of pontifical institute. The all-consuming preoccupation for women religious (and many men religious as well) was with developing the entire spectrum of Catholic education and health-care to meet the needs of a burgeoning Catholic population. The effort required education of the members in all of the relevant fields of specialization to meet the standards of accrediting agen-cies. Meanwhile, imperceptible to the outside observer and even to many within religious life, a ferment of dissatisfaction and dis-affection was gradually spreading. The competencies developed by religious in the many secular fields required for their professional ministries had the additional effect of providing them with criti-cal tools of analysis that they began to apply to their own per-sonal development and their social organization as religious institutes. Then came Vatican Council II. By this time the institutes of women's religious life were ready for the directives from Rome ffanuary-Febrttaty 1997 that followed it: Hold a general chapter of renewal within three years, consult all the members in preparation, and enter into a period of experimentation where it seems advisable. A further communication, directing the institutes to write new constitu-tions and statutes, called for a thorough review of the original inspirations of the founders. No one could have predicted the impact of what followed, particularly when the institutes devel-oped internal processes for consulting all the members. Their reflections and consultations brought to the fore a wealth of expe-rience that hitherto had not been factored into general-chapter decisions about the congregations' agendas. The questions and the solutions were wide ranging and radical in the very good sense of reaching to the roots of religious life and its very identity. Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new con-stitutions. The documents produced were perhaps the first to reflect the character of women's active, or ministerial, ~eligious life. Mining the rich tradition~ in the original inspirations of reli-gious institutes led to a breadth in understanding ministry, not so much as specific works, but as response to the needs of people in our times. 'But a parallel effort was in progress at the same time: the reform of the Code of Canon Law. While religious worldwide submitted data for the section on religious life, their work on constitutions proceeded without benefit of knowing how the canonical revisions were progressing. In the final analysis, while some strides were made, religious were unable to find in the revised canons support for some of the new approaches--to traditional values of governance, community, ministry, the vows-- that had already been duly incorporated into their constitutions and statutes. As one who participated in the process of gaining approval of new constitutions through conversations with members of the Vatican Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL, a recent name change that requires its own exegesis), I had a privileged vantage point from which to examine the notion that religious life does not evolve. While processes had been devised whereby entire congregations participated in developing new constitutions (documents that for the first time accurately reflect our sense of identity as ministerial congregations of women religious), it became quite clear that we were expected ,to fit into a Procrustean bed of fixed categories. Review for Religious The suggestion, once heard, that we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just settled upon calling ourselves "secular insti-tutes" epitomized the problem. We did not fit many canonical expectations of "consecrated life," but at the same time we found no comfort in being labeled secular institutes. ("Institutes of apos-tolic life," founded specifically for traditional "missionary" activ-ity in "foreign" lands, continues to be a unique category.) It is against this background that I read the postsynodal apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Many things can be said about this document, some positive and some nega-tive. (I will not dwell here on the persis-tence of noninclusive language.) But I take encouragement in the inference I draw from it that there is basis here for the idea that religious life can in fact evolve--or at leastodevelop, if that is a more acceptable word. I draw this conclusion as I move from chapter 2 to chapter 3 and find a distinct theological shift from a transcendent view of religioils life to what I will call an incar-national one. The shift is particularly evi-dent in the treatment of consecration, no longer wholly identified with the vows, but associated with mission in the phrase "con-secration for mission." While the theological reorientation is not consistent throughout, the theme is pervasive enough to be noted as a significant change. Two themes that are present throughout 'the exhortation are consecration and eschatology. The manner of their treatment illus-trates, the shifting theology. In chapter 1 the organizing biblical text is Matthew's account of the transfiguration, described as "a decisive moment in the ministry of Jesus" (§ 15, italics in the original here and elsewhere). While the document presents this experi-ence of Peter, James, and John as constantly relived by the whole church, a people on its way to the eschatological encounter with its Lord, it has particular meaning for those called to the conse-crated life. For, we read, Peter's words "Lord, how good it is to be here! . eloquently express the radical nature of the vocation to the consecrated life." The. ecstasy and the mystery of the trans-figuration lead to the evangelical counsels as "a specific acceptance of the mystery of Christ, lived within the Church" (§16). Thus reli- Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new constitutions. Januaty-February 1997 gious consecration is linked to the eschatological realization of the reign of God to come. Applying this interpretation to the three basic vocations within the church, the text reads: "The laity, by virtue of the secular character of their vocation, reflect the mystery of the Incarnate Word particularly insofar as he is the Alpha and the Omega of the world, the foundation and measure of the value of all created things. Sacred ministers, for their part, are 'living images of Christ the Head and Shepherd who guides his people during this time of 'already and not yet,' as they await his coming in glory. It is the duty of the consecrated life to show that the Incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal towards which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, and the infinite beauty which alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (§16). The three vocations here do not reflect the division of the church into episcopacy, clergy, and laity found in Vatican II's Lumen gentium, an outline that, by including nonclerical religious only invisibly among the laity, seems to drop them from the church (see LG §§31 and 43). While harking back to the "objective superiority of the conse-crated life" (§§18 and 32), a notion seemingly abandoned after Vatican II, chapter 1 acknowledges that religious life, in addition to its eschatological witness, is also "a particularly profound and fruitful way of sharing in Christ's mission, in imitation of the exam-ple of Mary of Nazareth, the first disciple" (§18). The "sacred bond of chastity for the sake of the kingdom of God" is singled out as the first and essential evangelical counsel. A further expansion to all the church's members' manifesting the one mystery of Christ is contained in the statement (here retranslated from the Latin) that, "as their specific but not exclusive characteristics, the lay faithful have activity in the world, the clergy have ministry, and consecrated men and women have special conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient.''l This assertion occurs in the discus-sion of baptism and confirmation's conferral of a consecration that is common to all members of the people of God (§31). Erroneously but understandably, "ministry" in the official English translation of this sentence is sometimes taken to be the exclusive responsibility of the clergy, and special conformity to Christ in chastity, poverty, and obedience an exclusive character-istic of consecrated men and women. The qualifier "but not exclu-sively" seems to be attached only to the specific characteristic of the laity ("activity in the world") when in fact it pertains to the Review for Religious specific characteristics of the other two groups as well. Just as the laity and the clergy are not to repudiate the importance of their own "conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient," neither priests nor (at least during the last several hundred years) women and men religious have been excluded from activity "in the world" along.with the laity. This is "missionary" activity, understood in the fundamental sense of their having been baptized into mission. It is just possible that collectively reli-gious have been quite as involved in ministry in the world as the laity have been, and no doubt proportionately more so until the recent past. Further reflection upon these three distinct-- but also overlapping (officially in this document and manifestly in historical praxis)--categories of baptized people seems to suggest that such separation of roles among the people of God no longer serves, If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. The term is today widely applied to many kinds of ser-vice as forms of diakonia, an essential component of mission, along with kerygma and koinonia--preaching and community. Perhaps in this connection we could profit from an expanded exploration of the meaning of the priesthood of all of the faithful. In various ways it is being exercised, but without the kind of theological reflec~ tion that would help us understand who we are as a total priestly people of God addressing the many aberrations in faith and morals that surround us in our global society today~ For many of us the subhead "Consecrated for mission" that appears at the beginning of chapter 3 leaps off the page as a sign of theological breakthrough. It encapsulates the case that I tried to"make for this concept in.my 1989. LCWR presidential address (see Origins 19, no. 13 [31 August 1989]: 209-214). At that time the idea abroad here and there that some r.eligious had opted for consecration and others for mission seemed dangerously divisive. The dichotomy became a defining issue for reflecting upon who and what women religious uniquely had become. We were and If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. Janltary-Febrvtmy 1997 are present in the world not merely as a kind of ethereal escha-tological "sign" of the kingdom to come--by reason of the vows we profess, that particular consecration of ours. Rather, we were and are present also as ministerial workers actively advancing the good of people and, thereby, the reign of justice and peace. In this way, too, we are a striking sign of the reign of God--by rea-son of our dedication to the mission of Jesus, consecration in that sense as well. Indeed, as the exhortation at this point says, "The task of devoting themselves wholly to 'mission' is ~,. included in their call . A sense of mission is essential to .every institute, not only those dedicated to the active apostolic life, but also those dedicated to the contemplative life" (§72). In support of this, Luke 4:16~ 19 is cited to emphasize that the Spirit has consecrated Jesus to bring good news to the poor, to captives, to the blind (§82). Consecration for mission places the vows in a new context and suggests that they testify to the evangelical counsels' "profound anthropological significance" (§87). Chastity is presented as a response to "a hedonistic culture which separates sexuality from all objective moral norms, often treating it as a mere diversion and a consumer good and, with the complicity of the means of social communication, justifying a kind of idolatry of the sexual instinct" (§88). Poverty is related to "a materialism which craves possessions, heedless of the needs and sufferings of the weakest, and lacking any concern for the balance of natural resources" (§89). And obe, dience is a response to "those notions of freedom which separate this fundamental human good from its essential relationship to the truth and to moral norms. In effect, the promotion of freedom is a genuine value, closely connected with respect for the human person, But who does not see the aberrant consequences of injus-tice and even violence, in th( life of individuals and of peoples, to which the distorted use of freedom leads?" (§91). These ideas on the vows, incarnational in my view, are more compatible with our experience than the idealized and "transcendental" notions pre-sented in the earlier sections of the document. They are consonant with the serious study we have done on Gaudium et spes and with the implications we have drawn for our identity in mission and the ministries we have undertaken to further the reign of God. These interpretations are welcome in expressing a realistic understand-ing of the vows, one with which we can identify. Whether or not~ religious life evolves is in the end not that sig-nificant a question. What really is at issue is whether or not the Review for Religious church--and the religious life within it--has a living tradition, one that adapts and grows and grafts new things into its old self, for the sake of gospel mission. The experience of women reli-gious over the years reveals that there is a dynamic interior prin-ciple among us that challenges, motivates, energizes, and adapts in our ongoing history. The traditional values of religious life are not cast aside; they are evaluated in new contexts, reinterpreted and reformulated for our mission in the contemporary world. Our communal discernment in these recent years convinces us that this interior principle is the Holy Spirit, to whom we must be faithful. Thus, Vita conseo'ata, Pope John Paul's postsynodal exhor-tation "on the consecrated life and its mission," strikes us as an affirmation of a movement of the Spirit of God that we have rec-ognized in our experience and articulated in our theological reflec-tion. We are happy to find this movement acknowledged in this exhortation. Note i "Licet varia haec genera unum Christi mysterium demonstrent, pro-prietatem peculiarem quamvis non unicam laici prae se ferunt, saecular-itatem nempe, pastores ministeriorum curationem, homines consecrati peculiarem cum Christo virgine paupere oboediente conformationem" (AAS 88, no. 5 [13 May 1996]: 405, §31). Our Lady of the Gifts Bewildered by the gifts: they bring Her son--such treasurest. and still listening For more nightsongs strange spirits sing, Her human love thrusts these apart As not fully human; let him start With just one gift; pressed to her breast For all she has to give: her human heart. Nancy G. Westerfield Janua~y-Februmy 1997 BRIAN PIERCE The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life lhad just celebrated my second birthday when John XXIII _~-went over to a dusty, closed window, threw it open with a smile, and invited the windy spirit of Vatican Council II in to freshen things up a bit. Needless to say, I do not recall the excite-ment of that time. Nor do I remember where I was when the news broke that John F. Kennedy had been shot. Only three at the time, I was probably building a fort in a sandbox somewhere-- totally oblivious to the tears and shock that swept the nation and the world, sending my mother into early labor. I do not even remember my little brother's birth the next morning. My preparation for first Communion was with a group of guitar-playing sisters who taught us a revised version of the Act of Contrition (I never did learn the "0 my God, I am heartily sorry" version that my older brother learned). They taught us, too, thaf it was okay to chew the Communion host before swal-lowing it, something my brother had distinctly been told not to do. To top it all off, none of my philosophy or theology classes as a Dominican were in Latin, and so, every time an older Dominican tosses out a Latin phrase during a dinner conversation, We younger men just roll our eyes and pretend to know what he is saying. Coming from that background, I can honestly say that I love the church and am committed to continue the journey as a Brian J. Pierce oP is a member of a Dominican community whose activ-ity includes lay ministry formation, university ministry, and pastoral accompaniment of persons with AIDS. His address is Frailes Dominicos; Apartado 2608, San Pedro Sula; Honduras, Central America. Review for Religious believer, a disciple of Jesus, and a preacher in the family of St. Dominic. I often get the feeling, though, that some of those who grew up in the pre-Vatican church look at us of the postconciliar generation as second-class Catholics: "Nobody can call himself a real Catholic if he's never attended a forty-hours' devotion," said one of those faithful daily-Mass folks to me one morning. I swallowed and smiled, not daring to confess to him that the young priest who had just "said Holy Mass" was one of those question-able "pseudo-Catholics." A sense of humor and some patient understanding help in those situations in which the distances between the generations seem irreconcilable. Religious Life and Spiritual Development In his recent book Further along the Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck, noted psychiatrist and spiritual guide, has capsulized in simple language the stages of spiritual development that James Fowler and others had mapped out earlier. Peck speaks of four stages: (1) chaotic-antisocial, (2) formal-institutional, (3) skeptic-individual, and (4) mystical-communal. My intention here is not to give an overview of the stages, but instead to comment on my own experience as a religious withi'n the post-Vatican church in light of Peck's categories. I realize that to make sweeping generalizations about faith development, especially on an institutional level, is both preten-tious and dangerous. I do so only as a way of situating us within the present moment so that we can more readily hear the Spirit calling us to growth. All ages of church history have had persons and communities representing each of the four stages. I think, though, that i( is safe to say that the pre-Vatidan church and reli-gious life had become somewhat bogged down in the legalistic uniformity of Peck's stage 2 (formal-institutional). Vatican II opened up the windows and doors of dialogue, both within the church and with the world. This dialogue marked the social and ecclesial environment in which my generation of religious grew up. In our childhood years Catholic liturgy was being transformed (causing its share of confusion, I later learned), and we began singing such hits as "Sons of God, hear his holy word" (inclusive language being still in an embryonic stagg). Renewal brought many new apostolic groups and movements, and there was an Janua~y-Febm,ary 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life overall air of dialogue and experimentation, especially in religious life. Uniformity was out, and modified habits and consensus deci-sion making were coming in. Vatican II's fresh breeze opened up the possibility for many persons and religious communities to move into skeptic-individ-ual faith development, Peck's stage 3. Peck says that, even though this stage is outwardly less "religious," it is in fact more "spiritual.". It is the stage of healthy questioning, conscientious dissent, and the blending of psychology and spirituality. In many ways those first years manifested themselves as an overreaction to the for-malities and legalisms of years past. In a positive sense it was a time of much dialogue and growth. My generation was still too young to be involved in 'the dialogue, but our early religious edu-cation took place in that environment. I remember the lay couple who taught our confirmation class in the early 1970s stressing that for us to be mature Christians we had to learn to make moral decisions with gospel responsibility. A far cry from the Baltimore Catechism of our parents' generation! Now we are in the 1990s and rapidly approaching the new millennium. Again, recognizing the frailty of making any kind of generalization, I think it safe to say that most of us raised in the postconciliar generation and most of the religious communities that went through renewal are still in Peck's stage 3. I do not mean that we have stopped growing or have become stagnant. Quite the contrary. In the American church in general and also among religious, a strong spirit of creative searching, is still preva-lent. At the same time, though, I think that very few religious communities have moved to what Scott Peck calls the mystical-community level. This may be quite natural, given the fact that Vatican II happened only thirty years ago, but my hope is that our generation may have something to offer here. Those of us who were formed in stage-3 parishes and reli-gious communities, complete with guitar Masses and face-to-face "celebrations of reconciliation," never went through the painful birthing process that gave way to the renewal of Vatican II. We are grateful to those who have gifted us with this rich inheritance-- a more mature and liberating life of faith within the community of believers. In many ways we had it easy, and perhaps it is now our .turn to lead the way through the desert. Many of my friends (ages twenty to forty) have left the church for a variety of reasons. Some have gone back to stage-2 Review for Religious Catholicism (usually lured there by disgruntled elders) or have found security in fundamentalist Christian groups. Reactionary Catholic religious congregations and movements and Bible-thumping evangelical churches (sometimes even with a shiny, high-tech faFade) are on the rise. Others of my friends--some of whom experimented with drugs--are trying to get to stage 4 by New Age pseudomysticism. Many young people today have a thirst for religious and mystical experience, and not all of them seek just a quick fix. The large num-ber of young adults (many ex-Catholics) adhering to the rigorous disciplines of Eastern meditation practices is an impor-tant phenomenon of our day. Our gener-ation is willing to sacrifice if we believe it is worthwhile (that is, no blind obedience, please). What, then, is this new journey that calls out to us today? If Our religious com-munities are not opening up the path to a deeper mystical and communal level of faith (Peck's stage 4), how can we respond in creative ways to bring about the needed growth? I am no expert on either faith development or postcon-ciliar religious renewal, nor do I propose to speak on behalf of all the Vatican II'generation. I simply speak out of my fourteen years of experience, prayerful struggle, and reflection as a Dominican. We have been hearing for several years now that religious life is in crisis, and I basically agree with that reading of the signs of the times. Crisis, however, does not have to mean something bad, a negative experience. Crisis can mean growth, a time for matur-ing, Just as past generations of Catholic religious strove to pro-duce new forms of religious life, so must we do today. This is no time to give up or go backward. We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but the "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us: Now it is our generation's time and task to carry the torch. I am aware that much is being written about the renewal and refounding of religious life these days, and in no way do I intend a comprehensive overview of the issues at'stake. I will look at three main topics (contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor) while attempting to We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us. I7- Januao,-Feb~waO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life reflect on them from the perspective of us who were raised beneath the cool shade of Vatican II. Contemplative, Prayerful Living My mother, whbm I consider to be a fairly open and renewed Catholic, still pulls a tattered Stations of the Cross prayer book out of her purse to reflect on before Mass or after Communion. In other words, she still holds on to and receives life from the meditative and devotional practices common before Vatican II. That kind of prayer-book piety does not fill my spiritual needs, but neither does the "my ministry is my prayer" pastoral workaholism that apparently has taken its place, especially among us younger religious. It seems to me that we went from saying prayers (Peck's stage 2) to not saying prayers (stage.3 skepticism) and somewhere along the way began to lose sight of the plain, simple art of just praying. For many of us, the charismatic renewal, with its focus on prayer rather than saying prayers, offered a stepping-stone in our spiritual development, but the emotionalism and fundamental:- ism in the movement caused many to look elsewhere. I am con, vinced now more than ever, after five years of living among the destitute poor of Central America, that being a follower of Jesus necessitates a deep commitment to prayer--and prayer requires time, energy, and creativity. Without a very intentional spiritual life, we run the risk of doing many good things on an ego~ trip rather than out of gospel-based selfless love. As I grow in prayer-ful communion with God, I discover that my loving others is freer, less needy, more liberating. In the past several years, there has been a growing interest in contemplative and centering prayer throughout the country. This is a wonderfully hopeful sign, and in many places it is the laity who are taking the lead in this kind of prayer. It saddens me that I have lived in or visited religious communities where com-mon prayer is either nonexistent (stage-3 individualism, at best) or simply "reciting the breviary" (stage-2 formalism). In order to grow into a communal, stage-4 level of faith, we must learn once again what it means to really pray together. I occasionally spend my annual retreat with a small commu-nity of Benedictine women in Oklahoma. These women gather three times a day for contemplative, sitting meditation, a blend of Review for gelig4ous Catholic contemplative prayer and Eastern meditation practices. The shared silence has been a gift beyond measure for me. In my years of formation, we were enc.ouraged to give time each day to personal or "private" prayer--can Christian prayer ever be "pri-vate"?-- but because of the previous generations' experience of having to spend a half hour together each morning in the chapel for "meditation," we rarely shared silence as a form of prayer. It seems to me that in our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we could profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. Silence binds together and bridges gaps in ways that words sometimes cannot. The liturgical reforms brought in by Vatican II .helped to bring our com-mon prayer back into the real world, but I believe that in many ways our common prayer has become just one more task to complete in the day's busy schedule and thus something that many find uninteresting. Introducing some shared silence into our common prayer can be a way of celebrating sacred time together in a "non-doing" manner. Prayer as a,task to be completed increases the workaholism of the many religious and lay Christians brought up on "do good to your neighbor" faith renewal after Vatican II. Not that we should reverse the renewal, for the recovery of the social-justice dimen-sion of our faith has been one of Vatican II's greatest gifts to the church; but are we perhaps only following our culture's insatiable drive for success and efficiency when we burn ourselves out as gospel do-gooders? A deep spirituality.that combines contem-plative prayer and Sabbath rest not only promotes gospel values, but challenges our consumerist society as well. The renewal of the contemplative dimension of our religious life consequently brings into question the professionalization of our ministerial commitments. I think that the emphasis on solid formation in theology, Scripture, and the social sciences that has come as a result of Vatican II is to be highly lauded, especially for women religious, for whom such opportunities were rare in the preconciliar years. To my mind, this move toward professional- In our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we cof~Id profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. ~anua~y-February 1997 Pierce * The Vatican II G, eneration and Rdi~_ous Life ization, though, has taken away much of the evangelical freedom that marked the early years of our foundations. As professionals we have had to buy into the world of competitive salaries, con-trolled work schedules, tenure-track professorships, and the over-all efficiency mind-set that characterizes the corporate and professional marketplace. Can we honestly cultivate the deeply contemplative prayer life that we entered religious life desiring while yielding too much to that system? Without losing sight of the need to be justly compensated for our ministry, have we not given up some of the freedom to "be with and for God" by trad-ing in our vow of poverty for the corporate model of church life? Have we fallen into'a minimalisrunderstanding of Sabbath (noth-ing more than Sunday Mass) because of the demands of ministry? At a recent day-long conference on Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton--given by Jim Forrest, who knew them both--someone asked what his strongest memory of Dorothy Day was. Jim answered quickly and with no hesitation: "When I think of Dorothy, I think of her on her knees praying. She spent a lot of time in prayer." Imagine that! This dedicated social-justice apos-tle of the United States is remembered as a woman on her knees praying, and for long periods at a time. Stage 4's mystical dimen-sion cannot be integrated into our lives if prayer is just another point on the "things to do" list for the day (after clocking out from work at the social-service agency, of course). Our commu-nal and contemplative prayer must be leaven in the dough of our daily lives. For, when our prayer truly becomes prayer, then our ministry and our lives as a whole will also become prayer. Real Community vs. Corporate Individualism We know it. We say it. We preach it. We write books about it. But do we live it? Do we live real community? The early Christian communities were not sacramental fast-food outlets, nor were they the early predecessor to Motel 6 (key, clean bed, cable TV,, free breakfast, cheap rates). They were brothers and sisters who had made a commitment to each other and to fol-lowing in the footsteps of Jesus of Nazareth. They lived, shared their goods, worshiped, and died with and for one another and the gospel. The beatitudes were their daily bread, and they knew that being a disciple of J.esus was to be their everything, their cross and their deep joy. Jesus was the way, the path by which the com- Review for Religious munity of believers would walk together towards the promised reign of God. Does this sound a bit idealistic? Well, the picture which the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles paint for us probably is a somewhat idealized version of reality. But let us not forget that these pictures appear in our Scriptures precisely because they were the goal towards which the early communities strove. Many ist-century Christians gave their lives to make this dream of com-munal gospel testimony a lived reality. Today we have the same struggles, difficulties, and weaknesses as the early Christians. But can we also claim to share the same goal of offering the world a living witness of the Body of Christ? I think that women and men religious provide coundess exam-ples of Christian witness, but I also think that the communal dimension of gospel living--and consequently of religious life-- has suffered great setbacks since Vatican II. We give ourselves to excellent and creative ministries, but more and more we do them alone. Everyone in the community has a project, and all the pro-jects are nicely organized under a fancy mission statement. We have all made use of the Myers-Briggs and the enneagram to facil-itate our once-a-month interface gatherings (which used to be called community meetings!), but does the world feel the force of our communal witness to the gospel of Christ? In my own Dominican tradition, the example of the first fri-ars in the Americas stands out strongly: a small band of Spaniards on the island of Hispaniola in the early 16th century. Needing to make a response to the atrocities of the conquest and oppression of the island's native inhabitants, and convinced that the atrocities were not the will of God, the community broke with the dominant theology of the day and preached that the Spanish conquerors were living in mortal sin because of their unjust treatment of the Indians. They all signed the community's homily that was preached by Antonio de Montesino, and, as expected, their words brought upon themselves a tidal wave of reactions, one of which was a harsh reprimand from their provincial back in Spain. Listening to the homily that day was young Bartolom~ de las Casas, who years later became the continent's most important defender of the cause of Indian rights. The question that blaringly stands out is whether or not the same words from a single Dominican friar on the island would have had the same dynamic effect on the history of Latin America that the community witness had. I think not. .']anuaty-FebruaD, 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life Today's church has become so individualistic in its focus that one wonders if there is still room for a prophetic witness in com-mon. The "something for everyone" mentality has worked its way into every part of chursh life in our country. Many of our parishes look more like the food malls where thirty or so minirestaurants are squeezed in between J.C. Penney's and Florsheim Shoes. We have become pastoral experts in creating a program for every-one, in itself not a bad outreach mentality; but the lack of focus is something we have to look at seriously. What is the message we are giving about the gospel? How can we celebrate the gains brought on by the council, with its renewal of lay participation in church life, without dispersing our witness in so many directions? I believe we need to step back and ask ourselves the tough ques-tion: Is corporate individualism the same as community? The question becomes even more urgent when we ask it from the point of view of publicly vowed religious life. Are we mir-roring the communal striving of the early Christian communi-ties or the strategic planning model of IBM? Brother David Steindl-Rast~OSB, in his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, uses a wonderful image to describe community living. He com-pares the old model of pre-Vatican corporate uniformity (Peck's formal-institutional) to sardines all lined up in a can--nice and orderly, but all dead. Real community, he says, is more like a school of fish swimming together gracefully'(Peck's mystical-com-munal). I think that we threw away the sardine can in the 1960s and then, liberated and full of life, all swam off in different direc-tions (Peck's skeptic-individual). How can we get back to swim-ming together gracefully in a school without destroying our creativity or drowning our witness in watered-down corporatism? There certainly are no easy answers, but we know deep down the hunger for such a life. Young people want community. Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken fami-lies, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. The thousands of young people who flock to Taiz~ each year in postmodern, de-Christianized Europe must be telling us something. The human heart longs for communion, and the world denies the fulfillment of that longing to more and more people everyday. Many religious women and men are choosing to live alone and work .in their own ministries, often identifying themselves professionally with a group that is not their religious community. Review for Religious We have come to accept this reality as quite normal, but will it continue to attract young people to a life of public, gospel-cen-tered, and vowed living? Real community is an urgent need for us who long to channel our creative energies in healthy ways in a world that sees little value in the commitment of celibate living. Will we find that companionship if we come home to an answer-ing machine full of messages or a "com-munity" room full of brothers or sisters inert before the TV set like the pillars at Stonehenge? Could Acts 2:42-47 give us some hints as to where to continue journeying along the path? References there to the teaching of the apostles, the common life, the breaking of the bread, and prayer point to a community that spent a lot of quality time together. Today we have many meetings run with corporate efficiency, but do we really spend time together (sharing the day's stories during a leisurely evening meal, faith sharing, studying the day's or the week's liturgy texts together, recreating or even taking a day off together--away from the phone and TV-)? The early Christian community's life had a tremendous impact on the local people (2:43). Does ours? Have we ever considered a ministry in which the whole community works as a team (for example, a series of lay formation workshops, time each week in a soup kitchen, regular visits to the AIDS wing of a hospital), giving witness to the value of community through our example? The passage goes on (2:44-45) to the difficult point of sim-ple living and common sharing of goods. It is an area of great challenge for us today. We have adopted the "have credit card, will travel" mentality of mainstream America, some of which, per-haps,, is inevitable. But are we taking these steps with sufficient reflection and caution? Are we willing to defend the truth even when it may not be a popular stance among some of our generous benefactors? Do we tithe from our salaries and communal accounts?.Where does our province or religious congregation invest its money? Do those investments promote social, economic, and ecological justice? Are we content with generic brands of food Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken families, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. ffanuaty-February 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life and a simple wardrobe? Do we have a common library, or do we all keep adding personal bookshelves? There are many questions to struggle with, but gospel witness is well worth the struggle. The last two verses of the passage (2:46-47) speak of enthu-siasm, joy, and simple sharing. We glimpse an early community that freely praised God while giving a clear witness to an alter-native, counterculrural way of living. Freedom to be for God and for others was their common ground. They risked martyrdom in order to keep giving their communal witness to the gospel. Theirs is not an easy act to follow, but it sure beats a sardine-can existence or lonely nights at Motel 6. Acompafiamiento, a Way of Walking with the Poor A great gift of Vatican II and these past thirty years has been the church's openness to continuing the dialogue with the world that the council's document on the church, Lumen gentium, high-lighted. The Latin American Church followed up with the prophetic stances taken during the Medellin and Puebla confer-ences of bishops (1968 and 1979). In the United States the pastoral letters on peace and economic justice have been lights .on the path of relating gospel faith to pertinent issues in our world today. We must not underestimate the steps that have been taken since Vatican II. Having said all this, I wish to comment on where I see a weak-ness in our post-Vatican II model of engagement with the world's poor. Not that what is being done is wrong or contrary to the gospel, but in many instances there is, I think, a need to move to a deeper level. Archbishop Oscar Romero, the martyred prophet of El Salvador, popularized during his years as archbishop the term acompa~amiento (accompaniment), a form of walking with the poor that is different from just working with the poor. Acompa~amiento is a way of living more than a way of doing (though, of course, this division in itself is dualistic). Several years ago I heard the noted liberation theologian Gustavo Guti~rrez say that we often reduce the option for the poor to going to the poor neighborhoods and barrios, to the social-service centers and the inner-city schools to work during the day, only to return to our comfortable homes and convents at night. To truly opt for the poor, Guti~rrez said, means to spend the nights withthem as well. In other words, we are called not only Review for Religiotts to do good things for the poor, but to be with them, to walk with them, to live with them, and, if necessary, to die with them. Romero's acompa~amiento could be translated as "sharing bread along the journey." It is different from giving bread to the poor; it is a sharing of life that dissolves the distances that separate us from them. To opt for the poor through acompa~amiento moves beyond all dualisms to make more real the concepts of global commu-nity and people of God. The hospice movement, Habitat for Humanity, L'Arche, and Christian base communities are expres-sions of this new way of being church and community. Each model portrays a community of equals, living and working together for a new world. There is very little corporate mentality present in them. This was the power of Archbishop Romero's witness--an erasing of the distances: the sheep and the shepherd together risk-ing their lives for the kingdom. How can our communities continue to make the transition to more of an acompa~amiento model over the traditional "charity" model (I do not favor the impoverishment of the word charity in contexts like this). I believe that, first of all, we have to set aside the obsession with efficiency and success that our world impresses upon us and complement our doing with an equal emphasis on being with. It is not an easy step. Rather than sending money, clothes, and food to the poor, can we pray, eat, study, recreate, and even live with them? The challenge is at the heart of the Catholic Worker Movement founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin decades ago, and it is the call heralded by St. Paul when he proclaimed that our baptism erases all the divisions between persons, making possible a true community of equals (Ga 3:28). Finally, and perhaps this takes us back to the start, I believe that to truly love the poor as .sisters and brothers requires a con-templative (mystical) heart. To develop the capacity to stand in silence alongside the poo~r and accept the ambiguities of life is to grow into the mystical dimension of our faith. We really are not separate from "the others," but only a contemplative heart can begin to grasp the interconnectedness that holds us all together. If we grow in such contemplativeness, our being with becomes less a heroic act of giving life to .somebody in need and more a happy fulfilling of our potential as children of God: we are uninhibitedly glad of the opportunity to see the kingdom that .Jesus preached radiating from our simple act of "sharing bread along the journey." Januao,-FeblvlaO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life I recently learned this lesson anew. A group of university stu-dents and I were scheduled to visit the inmates at the local prison. The students, among whom was Diana, a young crippled woman, met at our house, about ten blocks from the prison. I quietly asked if one of the students would go with her on the bus while the rest of us walked to the prison. Overhearing my request, Diana told me politely that she preferred to walk. I would not hear of it. Angry that no one offered to go with her on the bus, I decided to do it myself. By that point Diana, perceiving herself a burden to ¯ the group, had grabbed her crutches and begun walking home. When she finally had the courage to return to the group two months later, she told me I had made her feel terribly uncom-fortable that day. I had wanted to do something~r Diana. She simply wanted to be part of the group. I had seen her as a problem rather than as a person. Without a heart made flesh by prayerful silence and careful listening, we run the risk--as we go about doing good works to save the world of forgetting that we too are just part of this world already saved by God's love. To step back, to see and lis-ten to God speaking to us through poor people, is not always the quickest, most efficient way to bring about change in the world, but it is God's way. Stepping back, we discover anew each day that we are all part of one body--crippled, broken, healed, and set free. Community and Grace Thirty years after Vatican II, we all still have much to learn. The gospel is new each day and in every generation. However much progress we may have made since, the council, we need some self-critique as we continue the journey. Many people my age are not attracted to a church that differs little from the trap-pings of their everyday job, and the skeptic individualism in reli-gious life does not stand out as an exciting alternative. They can live that way and get paid a pretty good salary for it! Religious life' among the Vatican II generation must continue to offer some kind of critique of the dominant culture if it is to be viable for our times. Some cultural criticism, however, neglects important parts of Jesus' teaching. The post-Vatican II generation of Catholics is nov looking for more moralistic condemnations of modernity. They want a life with deep meaning, a simple life Review for Religious they can share with real people (and not just through their Internet modems!), a life that can help to make our world a bet-ter place without making themselves workaholic basket cases in the process. I believe it is still possible to swim gracefully through the waters of our times, guided not by the uniformity of the past nor the runaway individualism of the present, but by the Spirit of Jesus given to us and quietly moving in us with transforming new-ness and amazing grace. Awakening Golden leaves rustle and swirl Beneath the silver birch tree As sunlight from crisp blue skies Comes to rest on the forest floor. And nature poised on winter's brink Does not die but falls asleep Until it one bright spring morn Awakens to song of birds and brook. How like our lonely restless souls When in their final slumber lie Until aroused one glorious dawn By sweet sounds of an angel's horn. Eva Marie Ippolito Janua~y-Fd.-uaty 1997 F EDWARD VAN MERRIENBOER Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Tpe contemporary leader of a religious community is ected to be a person of prayer, with a vision, who can manage finance and who knows the legal aspects of public cor-porate life. Although few people ever fulfill all of these expecta-tions, most leaders do very well at some of them while in office. Many leadership tasks give one a sense of joyful accomplishment; of those that fail to do so, none is more painful, in my experi-ence, than participating in the departure of a member. I was a member of my province's council from 1973 to 1983 and then, until 1992, a member of our general council in Rome. In both the provincial and international contexts, the pain was ever present when a petition for dispensation came in. Impressed by the unique story that each of the many petitions revealed, I began to ask myself what I could learn from them personally and corporately about departure. During my nine years on our general council, I kept a brief list of people's reasons for leaving. My purpose was to learn from these experiences how to help those in leadership. I wanted espe-cially to help the men working in our initial formation programs so that they in turn could help our candidates avoid such painful experiences for themselves and their communities in the future. I share these reflections in that spirit. Edward van Merrienboer OP chairs the Department of Theology and Philosophy at Barry University. From 1983 to 1992 he was assistant gen-eral for the apostolic life of the Dominican order. He has written on reli-gious life, social justice, and spirituality. He can be addressed at Barry University; 11300 Northeast Second Avenue; Miami Shores, Florida 33161. Review for Religious Collating the many stories, I found that about eighty percent of those who left our community from 1983 to 1992 could be gathered into five groups, no matter what part of the world they lived in. My findings, of course, are not scientific conclusions of the sort one expects from an empirical study using a sociological method. Rather, they are reflections made after reading petition after petition regarding departure decisions that had been arrived at by individuals and/or the provincial leadership. I did not speak with the men petitioning for dispensation, nor did I interview their provincial leadership for additional data. My typology is based on what they and their provincial superiors wrote in the petitions. Typologies are models that seldom fit reality perfectly: there is always some overlap among the types. But still the general pat-terns proved helpful when I was making visits to our provinces. These types, from what I have learned from previous members of our general council, represent a change. During the time of Pope Paul VI, most members departed°to enter marriage. Today this is still a reason, but other reason~ have become more dominant. I have shared my findings with members of other general councils. They have found my insights to be valid in their communities and have encouraged me to share them more widely. What follows is a brief description of the five types of mem-bers seeking permission to leave and of the behaviors that led to their petition: the free agents, the must-have-its, the new founders, the loss-of-hopes, and the I'm-better-nows. The Free Agents Most free-agent petitions came from those who entered at the time of the Second Vaticah Council or within ten years after it. My religious community, like most religious communities of that time, was emerging from an era of strict legalism and con-formity. While we never had a fixed mold to force people into, informal ideas of what religious were supposed to be and to do defined almost every aspect of our lives. Perfection would be achieved by going through a "narrow gate," the perfect mechanism for making sure that, of the many called, few would be chosen. After the council, all the rules of our life were examined and revised. Now a wide embrace would replace the narrow way that was so well defined. Pluralism was encouraged in ministry and in 29 January-Feblwal.'~ 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us local community life. Everyone was encouraged to participate in shaping our life and mission.For most of us this new freedom was a blessing because it allowed us to be ourselves and be faith-ful to our community at the same time. While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. This was not the case with the members whom I am calling free agents. They enjoyed the new freedom and saw no limits. For some of them the freedom involved embracing works that were hard to locate within the mission of the institute or within the vowed life. Commonly they found ways to spend community funds while being little concerned about bringing in any money themselves or about the consequences of their expenditures on their community. Because finance is so concrete, much of the ten-sion between free agents and their community is about money. In extreme cases they establish private bank accounts or have funds that are not accountable to the community. Sizable funding is essential to them because it provides the means to express their freedom. Money provides the physical necessities they need to be free from the community's demand for responsible account-ability. Another area of conflict between free agents and their com-munity is their approach to relationships within and outside the community. Some of these relationships become exclusive com-mitments that involve genital expression. Self-direction in ministry becomes essential as part of their freedom agenda. Most are happy with the spirit of freedom that the council mandated; but, when "oppressive" superiors or members begin to challenge their lim-itless freedom, they became unhappy and start to question their vocation. They often say that they woul.d never have come to the point of seeking dispensation from their vows if it had not been for narrow-minded, or legalistic leaders. They do not see the problem of living a lifestyle that is contrary to their public commitment. Long and painful dialogues with their superiors do not enable them to see the points of conflict. Some express their anger at the community for trying to restrict the freedom given to them by the council. Many view the challenges coming to them from their community as statements of distrust. The decision to leave the community is a result of having to choose concretely between their agenda of freedom and certain Review for Relig~ous behaviors their community identifies as essential. It is tragic that often these members leave us without ever understanding that every life option imposes certain limits upon people, that in this regard religious life is no different than any other vocation. The Must-Have-Its Departing members of the second type seek dispensation within a very short time--usually three years or less--after their final profession or ordination. Judging from externals, one won-ders whether these members have really given religious life a fair chance. A common concern expressed by leadership is that these members may be acting in haste. The problems the mem-bers are experiencing could be rooted in the normal adjustment period from initial forma-tion to the wider life of the community. Because of the short time that these mem-bers have been in the community, unless there have been major difficulties previously, most religious superiors give only a very qualified support to their petitions for dispensation. This is understandable from an administrative per-spective, but I think there is an aspect of these members' personality that is perhaps being over-looked. It is this: They cannot come to a decision to leave the religious life or the priesthood until they actually possess these realities. Part of their personality demands that they prove to themselves that they can be a religious before they can decide that they do not want to be one. Some of this feeling is rooted in a need to be clear that they are rejecting the community and not being sent away. Very often I noted that, when during their initial formation they were asked as candidates to question their decision to be a religious, they responded by devoting themselves to becoming a better religious. Even when their simple vow period was extended so that they could look at their vocation, they never questioned their call to religious life. Some indicate that, almost from the day of their final pro-fession or ordination, they began to question if this was for them. They felt that before final profession they really .had not known While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. Janua~y-Feb~vla~y 1997 Merrienboer ¯ Of Those Who Leave Us what it would be like; now they knew fully and were not happy. Others fully expected that after final commitment their experience of the life and ministry would change radically. It did not; in some ,cases it even became worse. They were given less attention and were expected to be fully contributing members of the commu-nity- which beEame a major source of frustration. Even in situations where a mentor was assigned to assist them in their adjustment to the postformation community life, there was little the community could do to change the attitude that, "now that I have what I set out to achieve, I noolonger want it." My reading of their autobiographies comes up with a pattern throughout their life of obtaining something, then setting it aside. Before entering the community, a high number of petitioners had obtained graduate degrees in unrelated fields and then never used this knowledge and experience. At the core of persons of this type is their inability to project their hopes into the future and make an assessment of their fitness for that vocation. Their experiences of initial formation do not enable them to make an educated guess about their ability to live religious life in the future. They only know what is present to them, and now that they have the life in its fullness they no longer want it for themselves. The New Founders Some people enter a religious community with the idea of reshaping it according to their own vision of religious life. Such an idea is in strange contrast to a community's centuries-long acceptance of its charism, but it is a fact that some people feel that their own image of religious life today takes priority over all that has come before it. One area into which such new-foundation efforts are brought is the community's mission. New founders would define this mis-sion as movement for social change or promotion of a different theological perspective. In countries where there has been a his-tory of repression in society, they see religious community as a resistance movement that offers its members prophetic opportu-nities. When the new founders promote involvement in social action, they become disappointed that not all the members feel called to participate. In more industrial countries the meaning of religious life, Review for Religious according to some new founders, is to protnote the women's movement or the gay movement. For others it is to become pro-tectors of traditional understandings of the faith. A common focal point for new founders is the community's liturgy. It becomes the platform for their view of religious life. Whether traditional or progressive, they see community prayer as a way to form the other members into a new identity. Most new founders are critical of programs for new members and of the actions of the community's leaders. They believe that, if their own vision of things prev~lils, the community will be refounded with new vitality. They blame the community's short-age of vocations on its resistance to their newcomers' vision of community renewal. The tone of their petitions for dispensation often indicates that they consider themselves to be ahead of or even better than most of the institute's members. They predict dire consequences for the community after their departure, Convinced that their own vision is important and urgent, they feel they must leave and find a place to implement it immedi-ately. Such refounding attitudes seem to stem from an assumption that the community is joining them on their journey, not that they are joining a group that already has a reasonably defined identity as it proceeds on its journey. In my experience, formation programs that encourage self-expression without enough regard for the community's corporate identity only encourage new founders in convictions that will prove problematic. The Loss-of-Hopes I have thus far described three types of departing members. I believe that the responsibility for their departure from religious life rests primarily with them and not the community. The com-munity has failed them in many ways, but the motivation of these individuals has been essentially flawed, often from their very early years in religious life. The fourth type of persons leaving reli-gious life today are different. Here the primary responsibility for the departure lies with the community, with its lack of faithfulness to its charism. These tragic petitions come from persons who have given their best effort to be faithful to the religious life and have not found much support from other members. Some have found it JanuaTy-Febtvtaty 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us nearly impossible to find within their community a supportive environment for prayer and the vowed life. If they have shared their frustrations with other members, they often have received kind words but not active support. Sometimes this, alienation from the community has been caused by other members' general lack of interest in things spir-itual. These other members see themselves as professionals and have little feeling for the idea of a vocation. Considering the meaning of the vows to be very personal, they avoid discussing their own viewpoint with others for fear of seeming to impose it on them. I believe that the departure decisions of members of this type are rooted in their experience of hopelessness about the direc-tion in which the community seems to be moving. Often they feel that they do not even speak a common language about reli-gious life with the other members. They feel that the commu-nity has settled for the lowest common denominator for reasons of avoiding the tensions associated with serious conversion efforts. From my distant vantage point, there appear to be real signs of death in places where these departing members have been living their religious life; regrettably, suggestions to try another place are too late by the time the petition for dispensation reaches the major superior. It falls on leaders to learn from these tragic stories and to address the perceived failures as part of their leadeiship task. In my experience, it is almost impossible to restore hope to members who have become disillusioned; but leadership should make dis-tinct efforts to change situations in which, in the future, even more members would be likely to lose their hope. The I'm-Better-Nows Persons of the fifth and final type of men leaving religious life during my term of office were those who through most of their lives suffered from spiritual or emotional problems. Often their motive for entering religious life was the hope of having their problems resolved by the vowed life. Some of these problems were rooted in their early childhood experiences. Religiou~ life appeared to be a safe place to escape the pain of their family sit-uation. Their low self-esteem was a primary reason for entering community. Their hope, however, that religious life would con- Revie'a, for Religious fer a new value on them and make them better people had not been fulfilled. In some cases the reality of verbal or physical abuse made them fearful of any close relationship. They perceived the vow of chastity as protecting them from such trials, but as the years passed they experienced an inability to relate in a healthy manner with other members of the community. Their lives were marked by a crisis event, such as substance abuse, which made their superiors suggest or even require them to get professional help. Their petitions for depar-ture were often set in the context of the ther-apy in which their suffering was addressed. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. If they now were capable of healthy relationships, they wanted marriage or the freedom to find deeper mean-ing outside religious community. While it might seem strange, their main reason for wanting to leave community was that they were now happy and did not need the community anymore, Their needs for protection and status had been resolved in a positive manner. Most of these petitioners expressed gratitude to the community for their loving support through their many trials, and they knew true sorrow as they left. I have spoken with a number of healthcare givers about mem-bers of this type, and all have suggested that departure may be the best option for them. They also suggest that religious should examine within their communities the dynamics that allow peo-ple to hide from their problems until they reach the crisis stage. One healthcare professional once told me he thought that reli-gious practice "false mercy" in not addressing the problems of disturbed members until there is a major crisis. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. Reflections for the Future No matter how perfect our formation programs become, there will always be some members who make the decision to leave us after many years of association. This is to acknowledge frankly Janttaty-Febtvtat3, 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us the human dimension of religious life, but we can learn from our experiences. It is for the sake of such learning that I have shared my insights as a general-council member who has returned to his province and seen these patterns continuing in religious com-munities. Can we learn from those who have left us? Can we speak hon-estly with our present members when we see behaviors that have led others to leave us? I believe that, if we have the courage to say yes to these two questions, the pain of occasionally having some members choose to leave us and our life together would be much more bearable. In the Temple Year followed year the two had come to this place, old man, old woman, wearing persistence like a skin. Here, perhaps, familiar shadows sharpened the eye's observance. What ¯ better place to find the light, and by it be found, than in the dark? Leonard Cochran OP Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing From time to time a gathering of like-minded Christians-- whether it be a spiritual-direction group, an Emmaus group, a Bible-sharing group, or a prayer group--expresses a desire to "go deeper." This desire, perhaps only vaguely defined, generally means that the members want to be more self-revealing, more honest in discussing areas of faith, doubts about the church, glossed-over conflicts within the group, and fears that the meetings have become perfunctory, even boring. In such a case the introduction of some simple group dynamic into the meetings may allow the group to reach a new and more comfortable, if challenging, level of sharing. A dynamic based on the four seasons seems well suited to that task.~ The first time the dynamic is used, an outside facilita-tor can be helpful, one whom the group has chosen for being able and trustworthy. Later, on its own, the group could well devote at least one session to each of the seasons. Nature's seasons are an experience with which we are all familiar. The seasons can function for a group in poetic, dynamic ways, that is, ways in which the clearest and most labored prose cannot. Such metaphors break through the limits of human speech and help us become aware of thoughts and feelings that are otherwise inaccessible. The "I am" statements of John's Gospel demonstrate this beau-tifully. Each believer brings a different set of meanings Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB wrote "The Problem with Problems" for our September-October 1995 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing on hearing Jesus describe himself as the Good Shepherd or the Bread of Life. The seasons function in a similarly evocative way. People instinctively realize that we grow only when we hon-estly share the burdens and problems of our minds and hearts. Time and again we witness this in the pages of the Gospels. The healed leper, the demoniac rescued from among the tombs, the blind Bartimaeus lifted from his roadside isolation, the breath-less disciples returning to Jerusalem from the road to Emmaus, all these Jesus restores to community where they can pour out their hearts in sharing their "stories." Some Cautions Sharing in a group must be neither .intrusive nor abusive. Certain agreed-upon boundaries need to be set to protect the sanctuary of the individual conscience and the dignity of personal free will. There can be no forced entry into the heart. Even God will not force that door, but, like a true lover, quietly tells us, ,Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me" (Rv 3:20). The ultimate dream: table companionship with God! As a minimum, the following rules apply: 1. Members should make only."I" statements, never "you" statements, that is, "I think." and not "You are . " We cannot know the full reality of other people's minds and hearts until we ask them from a respectful distance. 2. Anyone should feel free to call a halt at any time to a line of inquiry directed towards herself or himself: "I'd really rather not discuss that at this time." This allows group members to claim the reverence which is their due. 3. Members should accept responsibility for the unfolding of their lives, avoiding the chronic "victim mentality" that is pervasive in our culture. Blaming others or "life" is most often an evasion.~ As one friend expresses' it, there are four doors into the neurotic. Each door is a belief in one of the following statements: (1) I can make you happy; (2) I can make you sad; (3) you can make me happy; (4) you can make me sad. Reluctant though we are to acknowledge it, each one of us is responsible for his or her own life. Only catastro-phes that overwhelm us exempt us from facing this honestly. 4. We help each other through honest and clear feedback, painful though that may sometimes be. Simple feedback, that Review for Religious is, a brief statement about how another's thoughts or actions come up in one's own life, proves most helpful: "When I am drawn to act that way, I find ."Advice giving is to be care-fully avoided. Other cautions come to mind, but these seem basic. We do not have a direct perception of ourselves. So burdened are our thought processes, so fixed into routine are our actions, that we need the kind mirror of another's perceptions held up before us. We seem at times so suffocated by our prejudices, by our closely guarded denials and chosen ignorances, that we experience a real joy when someone gently opens the window to let in the fresh air of new ideas and new possibilities. Indeed, our deepest prej-udices are those we hold against ourselves. This is the saddest discovery of all. What a joy when someone helps us stand up and claim our own worth! Fall: Season of Fruition Easing into the sharing process is most gently done by choos-ing as a beginning the symbol of fall. Most mellow of seasons, fall is the time of harvest, when good things are gathered up and fes-tivals begin. The rewards of hard work and steady determination lie before us. We have a need to celebrate at this time of year. At this point, what are the fruits of the group's loyalties? There are stored memories of joy shared, of times when a mem-ber has been lifted up and celebrated. The group has had insights that can be recalled, times when it realized that Jesus was there in their midst and hearts burned with awareness of his presence. The Lord was walking with the group as it went along the way. Ours is a faith community devoted to the joys of remembrance, as every Eucharist proclaims. One way of beginning: Inventory the gifts each individual brings to the group. What do I bring to the group which, because of my background, education, talents, and so forth, constitutes a special gift? Follow this by a question put to the entire group: What do we think this one member contributes that is most enriching? Move on then to a consideration of how the group has changed over time, pointing out new levels of support and understanding. Where has a sense of continuity been discerned? What new and unexpected biessings have been slowly revealed in each individual? ffanuao,-Febrttaty 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing An important benefit of a sharing group is the contact that members have between sessions. We all struggle to keep alive a "circle of friends." A support group affords an excellent opportu-nity to widen that circle beyond relatives and school-day chums. Do the members of the group reach out to each other between meet-ings? Has acquiring and sustaining friends--those essential inter-personal skills--been nurtured by the activities of the support group? What new skills have been acquired? "If you want a friend, be a friend" is a truth that needs to be lived out day by day. Living in community is of itself no assurance of having friends, but only company. Have I worked at being a friend to members of the group? Winter: Season of Perseverance Winter is the season of hoping and of endurance. For most of us in these northern climes, except for the occasional bright win-ter day, the skies are covered and a chill hangs over the land. Winds bite. Snow and ice impede travel. One has to draw on deep inner resources of strength, and hold on to memories of warmer days. There are winter seasons for a support group, too. These times have to be confronted and admitted. There is a time for breaking open the soil before spring planting. We are reluctant to put a hand to this kind of work, but it is the necessary condition for future growth. A "winter" discussion is the most difficult kind the group will have, and requires patience and loyalty. Questions needing examination fall easily into three cate-gories: 1. Where have we silently established "off limits" areas of discussion: subtly agreed-upon restrictions and withhold-ings? When and how does sharing break down in the group? What expectations did we bring when we joined the group, and how have these been disappointed because of these unspoken conventions? Was I honest with my hopes when I joined? Certainly, every group has the right to mark the boundaries of its sharing. But were these boundaries hon-estly agreed on when the group was formed? Were we too idealistic, too superficial, or too demanding? Were there angers in the group that were glossed over? ¯ 2. What does the group need to work on with determina-tion, for example, admitting and establishing boundaries, facing avoidances; or surfacing denials? Review for Religious 3. Very importantly, what healings need to take place? Does any member feel wounded or rejected in any way? How would this healing best come about? One makes a wonderful discovery in crossing this difficult winter terrain. Secrets can poison people's lives. When we have the courage and trust needed to reveal those tender areas of the heart, we find that others too have suffered in the same way. Walls crum-ble. The Jesus who draws us together out of our loneliness and fears is there, in the eyes and voices of others, to strengthen the fragile bonds that hold together a faith community. Spring: Season of Hope Renewed We all love spring with its beginnings of new life, with early crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips. Winter seems sometimes to linger stubbornly, but spring finally triumphs and spirits soar. Melting snows turn into sparkling rivulets. Sap rises in the trees, and ten-der greens appear along the limbs of trees. A support group too brings forward its hopes for renewal, for new life. It is helpful to go back and test the roots for their vital-ity. This can be done when the members share where their indi-vidual faith stories began. People are always eager to tell their stories. The vast professional therapeutic industry has risen because people are hungry to recount their stories. If the listen-ers are skilled, they can help the storyteller understand better the meaning of the tale. Within the faith story, certain elements are important. Who taught you to pray? Who were your role mod-els of faith? What were some of the significant moments on your faith journey? What was your image of God in childhood years, and how has it evolved over the years? How do you pray at this time in your life? What more do you wish for in your relationship with God? What is your answer when Jesus asks, "What do you want meto do for you?" (Mk 10:51). Not only do roots need to be inspected, but growth too needs to be looked for. What hungers are you aware of in your faith today? How could this support group help you? What aspects of your faith do you want to bring into the lives of those you love or those with whom you work? I have noticed that groups experience a surge of interest when "spring" sessions take place. A renewed commitment, a deeper investment is made in the group, and mem-bers reach a deeper trust level very easily. Januao,-FebrttaO, 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Summer: Season of Sustained Growth The summer months fill us with a sense of achievement. The harsh days of winter are over. The stimulating work of spring has been accomplished. Now is the time to relax and enjoy the warm days and long, quiet evenings. In fields and in flower beds around the house, buds are gathering to maturity; grains are swelling in the fields and fruits filling out to ripeness in the orchards. This is the season of contentment, when gentle rains come to nature's aid. Now people have time for visits, vacations, and concerts in the park. Indeed, the "lazy, hazy days of summer" clothe us like a comfortable garment, and we are grateful. Groups, too, can benefit from at least one "summer" session, counting the blessings the members have seen coming to fruition among themselves. What was the heritage the individual members received from their mother and father? Looking back on the ten-der years of childhood, each person recognizes a "gift" from his or her parents, a "breath of life" that only parents could breathe into the heart of a child. Influenced deeply by our family roots, we make decisions about our place, our possibilities, in the world. What was the special legacy, outlook on life, stance before the future that the members received-from their mother and father? And how has this gift been nurtured and cherished? How did the hands of your father and mother feel at your back as they sup-ported your first steps and as you still, to this da~,, feel their hands steadying your walk through life? Or, and this too must be faced, did their hands grasp you and hold you back? When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reach-ing with help and love into your life? Perhaps you experienced God as a hand drawing you forward through difficult days and years, pointing the way prophetically towards promise. Which times were times of contentment, when your journey reached a plateau and you rested quietly for a while? Seasoned Years Our lives seem to take the shape of repeated cycles. The pri-mordial journey of Abraham comes to mind here. A call comes to move forward when we are asked to entrust our future to God in faith. Then follows a transition period presenting obstacles to overcome, anxieties and failures to accept, flesh commitments courageously to be made to our beckoning God. Finally comes a Review for Religious sense of arrival, a time to rest and gather strength for the next call, time to sing a canticle of gratitude. Such a pattern applies to a support group. How has the group experienced these calls, these trials, and these periods of rest? Does the group know how to celebrate its members, choosing activities that will express its joy? One priest group I know takes a three-day trip each summer. All eight pile into a rented van, set out for a not-too-distant point of interest, and simply enjoy them-selves. They are gathering shared happy experiences to live on through the months to come. Nothing has been said on the impor-tant topics of how a group is set up, how members select themselves into a group (or are allowed to join it), and how an individual might bring closure when leav-ing. Indeed, perhaps the group decides it no longer serves its original purposes and goes out of existence. No mention has been made of how a group defines its orig-inal goals or modifies them. Without that vital process, the prospects for a successful investment of time and energy are rather dim. These are all con-siderations for another article, one that indeed has been written many times and was not our purpose here. Group renewal is our purpose. Every group, no matter how well put together at its inception or how generous and serious the will of its members, needs to be renewed in its commitment from time to time. The four seasons of the year can help in that necessary task. When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reaching with help and love into your life? Note ~ The seminal idea for this article was suggested to me by Donna Fyffe; CommunityWorks; 101 West Ohio Street, Suite 1776; Indianapolis, Indiana 46204. Januar),-FebJvlat3, 1997 PAUL DUCKRO, MARJORIE KUKOR, AND JEAN MEIER Inner Work with Your Anger Anger is an emotion much maligned. It is often referred to as a "negative" emotion. Many persons are not comfort-able feeling anger and seek to suppress it in the interest of har-mony and accommodation. Paradoxically, by such efforts people increase their likelihood of expressing anger dysfunctionally. When people suppress anger, or even repress it, it does not disappear; it is left to work its way indirectly, like a force under-ground. It may express itself in very rationalized statements, rec-ognized only in the impossible and recurring problems that follow in their wake. There may be episodic outbursts of anger followed by gre~t anxiety and remorse, forming a cycle of conflict. Other persons may use anger much more overtly, as a domi-nating force. In them anger is a trademark, emerging frequently with few inhibitions. It may even become crystallized in ways of viewing the world--as evil, inconvenient, incompetent, and so forth. Either extreme--expressing anger frequently or habitually suppressing it--may lead to the development of a clinically sig-nificant syndrome for which professional therapy is indicated. Along with such destructive potential, anger has many posi-tive aspects that we shall point out. Moreover, there are proactive ways to deal constructively with deleterious anger in everyday life. Behavioral therapies have been demonstrated to be very effec- Paul Duckro PhD, Dr. Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ, PsyD, can be written to at St. Louis Behavioral Institute; 1129 Macldind Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Review for Religious tive. For example, cognitive behavior therapy is effective in cases of uncontrolled anger, suppressed anger, simmering resentment, or cycles of angry outburst and fearful restraint. Typically it com-bines development of new skills, modification of dysfunctional beliefs, and exploration of past experiences that have shaped a person's thoughts and behaviors. More experiential approaches are effective too. In clinical practice these have been shown to improve the recognition, acknowledgment, and expression of anger, whether or not there is the opportunity to work through the anger interpersonally. Experiential therapies take many forms. Art, movement, and fan-tasy are common ways to explore and express anger. Painting and sculpturing are evocative media through which the source of someone's anger can be revealed. Color and form can often rep-resent anger that lies too deep for words. This therapy has long been used with children, but it is no less effective with adults who feel trapped in their own anger. Exercise and movement can express and diffuse angry feelings. Emotional energy is "con-verted" into physical energy rather than being "trapped" in psy-chological or physical symptoms. Fantasy allows people to express and then explore their powerful emotions in a safe way, even toward absent or deceased persons or toward the unseen God. The persons "work through" angry feelings, moving toward a new level of integration and wholeness. Experiential therapies are important when the anger is not even recognized, much less processed, as emotion. It is not unusual for anger to be experienced and expressed--and masked-- in intellectualized forms such as opinions and logical judgments. In such cases, working in a tactually receptive form of experien-tial therapy can release emotions otherwise effectively disguised as thoughts and verbalizations. For persons of faith, contemplative or meditational encounter with the anger has great potential, linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. It is on this approach to anger man-agement that we focus here. For our purposes we will refer to it as inner work. Inner work is the interior correspondent of con, flict resolution. The essence of both is movement, as opposed to remaining stuck in resentment, bitterness, or cynicism. From the exterior perspective, the time given to inner work appears to be "doing nothing." In fact, this doing nothing is true only superficially. Inner work is an active and engaging process of Janua~y-Feb~'ualy 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. Synergistic with the more obvious activity of conflict resolution, engaging in inner work may provide the time needed for cooling off. Beyond such a practical benefit, this doing nothing is also the space in which one can reflect and make associations and thus prepare to move forward in relation-ships. It helps individuals to insure that they are not pinning their own issues onto someone else or substituting one-sided judgment for dialogue. Stages of Inner Work Inner work with anger involves several stages. The first appears so simple that it is often overlooked: the recognition that you are angry. This step requires regular self-examination, knowl-edge of the ways you may experience anger physically and psy-chologically, and alertness to how you customarily try to mask your anger. That regular self-examination is necessary only restates the obvious: if one does not look, one will not see. Knowing the variety of ways that people experience anger increases the odds that you will recognize it. Anger is, of course, an emotion that people experience directly, but it can also be uncovered in behaviors, thoughts, verbalizations, and bodily reac-tions. Individuals will have characteristic ways in which their anger is masked, expressed indirectly, or expressed passively. Becoming aware of these patterns of human response, you will more likely recognize your own anger under such guises as logi-cal argument, social withdrawal, passive resistance, depressed mood, and spiritualization. If you do not recognize your anger, it cannot be channeled or transformed. Anger that is not experienced or expressed directly is not easily unmasked. Gruff exteriors can hide from the indi-viduals themselves an anger that is obvious to everyone else; so can a smile, and so can solicitousness. For you to relate to such a "shy" anger within yourself may be compared to relating to some-one who is reluctant to come forward. The unmasking must not be done forcefully, or hurtfully. Imagineextending your hand to the anger within, with reassurance that there is no need to hide. In this invitation the anger is reassured that it is seen as a legiti-mate emotion with a reason for being which is important for you to understand. Review fi~r Religious The simple power of recognizing your anger (we might call it awareness) lies in the fact that merely paying it attention changes the anger at once. This phenomenon, the power of simple obser-vation to transform what it observes, is well recognized, not only in behavioral but even in physical science. It can be found in var-ious forms also in our spiritual tradition. From earlier teachers we know the concept that to hold the true name of anything or any-one is to have power over it. We learn that the desert fathers and mothers taught their spiritual children first to name their demons.St. Teresa of Avila taught us that, if anything is embraced in love, it already begins to be transformed. To be true to this way of proceeding, we must remind ourselves that the power does not lie in trying to manipulate or control the anger. In each case, as in the example of dealing with "shy" anger, there is an encounter with the anger. Encounter implies relationship, interaction, and the potential for mutual change: the anger also has something to say. The second stage of inner work with anger may be described as bringing the anger inside yourself. Unpacking that metaphor is not easy; not all of its meaning will be captured in any one exposition. It is already evident that the first and second stages are diametrically opposed to what is often a reflexive response to strong, unwanted anger--trying to get rid of it. We turn to a familiar fairy tale to shed more light on the power of bringing the anger inside. Recall the story of "The Three Little Pigs." Imagine being one of the little pigs barricaded in the last house, the one made of brick. Anger at first may seem like,the big bad wolf howling menacingly outside the door. You shake within, behind the barred door and locked windows. To be exposed to such a monster would be certain death. If matters continue in this way, there can be no happy end-ing-- at best there is stalemate. You know the pigs' solution, and in a way it is related to what we will suggest. But let us modify it in the interest of love and mutual growth. In a feat reserved for imagery, imagine yourself inviting that wolf in. Already, simply to enter the house, the big wolf must become small, at least small Inner work is an active and engaging process of coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. JanuaJ3,-FebJvtal3, 1997 D_.~ckro~ Kukor~ and Meier * Inner Work with Your Anger enough to fit through the very same door which you use. From that time the wolf already becomes more your equal; the bad wolf becomes your guest. Your fear calms down to prudent caution. Anger, upon being brought inside, begins the dialogue, furthers mutual understanding, and allows you to listen to the message-- which apparently some part of you thought was important enough to arouse such a furor. The third stage consists of continuing your association with the anger. This is the dialogue, and the very heart of inner work with anger. Although associating with your anger must of neces-sity be a free-flowing process, with content unique to yourself, it is useful to consider the general material you might encounter. The material of association might be divided into old and current issues. Old issues are the recurrent themes that come up again and again in anyone's life. Much of the message of any intense "negative" emotion has to do with these recurring themes. A popular way of conceptualizing this idea has been called the 90/10 rule. It suggests that, in understanding the message of strong feeling, very little (10 percent) has to do with what seems to be obvious, the matter on which you are focused. The greater part (90 percent) arises from old issues that have been reawak-ened by the current circumstances. Imagine a detonator: a small and harmless charge sets off a much larger and destructive explo-sion, a cache of dynamite for example. Obviously, the great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. These old issues influence your perception as perva-sively as a pair of colored glasses affects your view of the world around. They color your interpretations and lead to a type of conditioned reality. You actually see what you expect to see. Unrecognized old issues lead to compulsive or addictive cycles of behavior. You perceive each new situation through lenses that transform it into an old familiar one. In turn, you bring up and apply old familiar responses to these new situations. Outcomes become more and more predictable. Imagine a traveling theater troupe picking up extra actors in each town. The players are dif-ferent, but the plots are always the same. With anger, bitterness, or resentment, there is a kind of cold comfort in having been right about the advent of unpleasant realities (while you conve-niently forget that often it is you who make them unpleasant). Such victories are P))rrhic, Finding the results familiar becomes Review for Religious for you (however unconsciously) more desirable than finding--or trying to make--the current reality pleasant. The rigid shape of such compulsive behavior is evident. To emphasize the importance of old issues is not to say that current issues are unimportant. On the contrary, as you recog-nize the anger, calm the anxiety, and listen for old issues, the cur-rent issues become more distinguishable and more manageable. The solutions that present themselves are likely to be effective for being rooted in your actual current situation instead of being autonomous repetitions of previous experiences. When you see current issues clearly, you under-stand them in terms of relationship rather than as someone else's problem affecting you. You see a problem as relational, a matter between or among the several concerned parties rather than in one or another person. Common sources of anger in the present include threats to self-esteem, feeling vulnerable, being cheated, receiv~ ing dishonest or indirect communication. When these problems are freed from the heavy bag-gage of the old, recurring themes, their substance remains but they become much lighter to carry. Consider, for example, a threat to self-esteem. A colleague is given attention for her successes. It seems to you that some of her ideas carrie from' conversations in which you played a part. There is resentment that she is in the spotlight and fear that no one will look to you for ideas in the future. The most power-ful factors in your emotional response to the situation lie in your previous experiences. If you have felt unappreciated, if you have been afraid to speak before others, if you have learned to feel that others do not take you seriously, if you have learned to deeply doubt your own value or your ability to succeed, you will feel burning anger at your dubiously accurate perception of a threat to your livelihood and reputation. If you are not good at pro-cessing and expressing anger, you will carry it as a tortuous con-flict within you, eating at body and mind, blocking the flow of spirit. On the other hand, if you can recognize the old issues for what they are, can avoid disparaging yourself for holding them, and then begin dealing with them directly, you will find within The great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. dO dTtttltta13,-Febrtttlty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger yourself the energy for doing so. You will assess more clearly how serious the immediate threat is. From that assessment you can gauge the strength of the confrontation and discussion you must have with your colleague. If you are not.skilled at assertive expres-sion, you may determine a course of action to improve such skills. The problem is resolvable. The actual method of associating with your anger requires some elaboration. An essential component is to calm yourself down. The failure to calm down, especially to calm down your cognitive activity, heightens the risk of repeating a version of the old issues that tend to inflate your angry response. Physiological calming facilitates cognitive calming, and both allow the pro-duction of fresh associations. It is important to distinguish this type of calming from sup-pressing the anger or avoiding the current issues. The idea is not to become suddenly and inexplicably blissful. The aim is simply to be present to the anger--bringing it in, seeing it for what it is, and sorting out the old issues that are inflaming it. The most effective way to calm down is simply to become aware of your breathing and then to breathe gradually more slowly and deeply, and from the diaphragm. No particular rate or pro-portion of breathing is necessary, but it is often helpful to allow each exhalation to proceed slowly, like a slow leak from a tire. With each long exhalation your heart rate will be slower, and you will feel more and more relaxed. Let yourself move as necessary to remain physically comfortable, and do not be afraid to take a big ungainly breath if you get out of rhythm; just come back to the slow, diaphragmatic breathing as soon as possible thereafter. The overall goal is a sense of effortlessness in the breathing, letting the tension and the struggle to control melt away, but feeling all the sensations of the body with even greater awareness. Focus then on the parts of the body that seem most active. You will find in these places the physical correlates of your anger, As you interact in this way with your physical sensations, move to the emotion underlying them. Remaining relaxed, let yourself feel the anger more fully, either directly as emotion or in its phys-ical manifestations. Now that it is allowed to enter within your relaxed self, it will no longer be overpowering as you contemplate it. Call it by name with your inner voice, softly and repeatedly. As you do so, remain calmly aware and allow your mind to produce the next thought, feeling, image, or memory. Accept that next Review for Religious association without judgment, and then focus on it. Continue the process in just this way until you reach an association that seems new and striking a.nd that requires more time. Stay with it for a 16nger time, just holding it in mind. Other thoughts and feelings will weave themselves around it. If you find yourself excessively dis-tracted, try writing.down your thoughts, feelings, or sensations, associating further with each one as you write. In this process of free association, you are opening doors within you. Areas which have been blocked off by shame or will-fulness may become accessible. Some of these areas may be unpleasant, exposing feelings that are painful. These you must bring to spiritual direction, prayer, intimate friends, or psy-chotherapy for support in working through them to new life. In the course of such work, you move toward oneness within; this is the essence of the integrity you seek. You see yourself more hon-estly and clearly, and you see also what is being touched within you. What you must do becomes more clear. The last stage is taking the anger to relationships.° Although our focus in this essay has been on inner work, this inner work leads to interpersonal interaction. It is in the movement from intrapersonal exploration to the interpersonal resolution of anger that we avoid individualism and act for justice and peace in our personal worlds. These personal worlds, in any particular life or set of circumstances, may range from the grand scale of interna-tional diplomacy to the intimate relationship of two persons. This inner work, then, is not an alternative to external work, but is the basis from which to move toward others. In inner work we take time to explore thoroughly .the nature of our own anger, with-holding action until we have taken the beam from our own eye. Upon so doing, when we do act we are much less likely to return evil for evil. We are more likely to be able to collaborate with God in turning all things to the good, for ourselves and others. Relational Responses In discussing this stage in which we take the anger to rela-tionship, it is useful to highlight the basic choices with which we are faced. Our choices determine whether and how much our response will further a relationship. In coming to terms with any strong "negative" emotion, we are faced with such choices, lead-ing to greater or lesser connection with others. Januaty-Febtvlaty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger The mutuality required for integration rests ultimately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Y2 At its worst, anger polarizes. The participants separate into factions whose interests seem mutually opposed. Anger so expe-rienced leads to stronger or longer-lasting feelings of hatred and resentment, and to behaviors aimed at the injury or destruction bf the other parties. We easily see such hot or cold wars on the broad and somewhat anonymous levels of local, national, and interna-tional politics; they occur just as often, however, on the smaller stages of our personal and professional lives. Somewhat more benign, but still only minimally relational, is what we might call parallel play. In this live-and-let-live stance, there is no intention to hurt the other parties, but neither is there much sense of the common or universal good, and there is no intimate interaction. Farther along the continuum, we can indicate a point of compromise. This term is unfortunately not held in high esteem. What some people see as a reasonable compromise, many others see as "giving in," collaborating with evil; in fact, they see the compromiser as "compromised"-- or, at best, wishy-washy. However, com-promise (literally: putting forth, together) can be actually a high-level response with the potential for build-ing a better relationship out of previous anger and conflict. The partners in conflict become sensitive to each other's agendas and to opportunities for their mutual benefit in a common good. The arrangement might be unsteady, but continued dialogue in this spirit leads to change, however slow it might seem to those who prefer war, personal or otherwise, as a means of change. On any given day, compromise may be all the relationality we can muster. Nevertheless, its regular practice can move us along toward the point of integration. It is in the honest integra-tion of apparent opposites that we most fully participate in ongo-ing creation. Both compromise and integration must be and remain, opposed to syncretism, in which each side is reduced to being a lesser entity than it was. Integration requires the full pres-ence of both parties, each maintaining--and even realizing more fully--its own identity, but also coming together to form, from an Review Jbr Religious appreciation of their essential unifies and commonalities of inter-est, a new whole never before experienced. To accomplish such a union requires freshness of experience: two persons seeing each other as if for the first time. Obviously, the ideal is challenging and not easily reached. It is best to consider it a process that incor-porates the letting-go of egoism, that sense of self which empha-sizes self-protection and personal rights at the expense of openness and intimacy. It is analogous to the process of inculturation in evangelization presented by Pope John Paul II and articulated eloquently in the documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus. The mutuality required for integration rests ulti-mately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Words are a poor medium to express such matters, but they are often the best means we have. In love, they are enough. At this level of relationship, anger has been transformed. It is now not merely a difficult emotion to be managed, but an impetus to new creation. Of such dialogue--two or more persons allowing their center of focus to be between or among themselves rather than within any one of them--it may truly be said that the reign of God is there. Forgiveness and reconciliation are experienced in a fresh way. Old hurts are not forgotten, but now are embodied in the new whole. They are used to create a new way of understanding which, rather than suppressing them, coopts them for the good. Taking care of oneself is redefined, as self has been redefined, beyond the limits of the corporeal body and one's personal psy-chological history. The well-being of any other person comes grad-ually to be seen as vitally important to one's own self. The Contemplative Stance This coming together in integration is certainly not without much pain and difficulty. More often than not, it seems that the creation of a new whole from disparate positions is impossible. Nevertheless, it is this apparent impossibility that in fact calls us to a new something. There is a tradition, among shamans of so-called primitive religions, that iust such apparently impossible situations signal, often in a sacred dream, the opportunity to advance to a new level of spiritual understanding. In our Christian tradition we may understand this new creation as furthering cor-poral realization of the mystical body of Christ. .~mlttaly-Febrttal3, 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier o" Inner Work with Your Anger A contemplative stance in life facilitates the recognition and acceptance of opportunities' for integration as we work through strong feelings of anger. Such a contemplative stance does not imply or require a cloistered vocation; it is simply a willingness to become ever more aware of what is happening within us and around us. It is furthered by the practice of certain disciplines such as frequent self-examination, centering prayer, and medita-tive relaxation. An image passed on by Suzanne Zuercher OSB expresses the nature of being contemplative very well. Imagine holding a bird in your cupped hands. Hold it too tightly and the bird will be crushed; too loosely and the bird flies away. So it is to be present to ourselves and others. In such contemplation God, divine Mystery, is found truly in all things. All the events of life, without exception, are material for the spiritual journey. There is no need to avoid or suppress dis-tractions or strong emotions; there is only the call to work with them honestly. An ideal, of course, is a distant marker. As with ship and lighthouse, we hope not so much to find ourselves there as to be guided by its light. In the end the stuff of our growth is not found in our perfection, but in our flaws. Stumbling blocks become stepping stones, fissures become our footholds. Honest reflecting on the disruptive emotions that rise unbidden in us, and on our failures in handling them for the good, keep us rooted humbly in the truth of our lives. This truth, however unlovely it may seem, is the sure and only foundation for realizing the power of God working in us, From there we move closer to joy and compassion, holy indiffer-ence and equanimity, and become people for others. We find love. Review for Religious DENISE M. CALLAGHAN On Letting Go l~aan still see you sitting across the room from me, the light of e lamp highlighting your silver hair, your blue eyes still filled with life. You talked of how they were "putting you out," try-ing to get you to come to the motherhouse infirmary. And the best reason they could give you? They were worried about you because you seemed to be forgetful. You were not buying that, you told me. You kept insisting that you knew what you were doing, that you were not forgetful or careless about little matters of safety. I tried to suggest that there could be episodes you were not aware of. If you had been aware, there would be no prob-lem- but not being aware that you were not aware could be seri-ous. I was not just playing with words. I tried to give you examples. I tried to ease your dread of being uprooted. I hope I helped just a little, anyway. I thought of you often after you left. I found myself praying that you would be able to let go. So much of life is a matter of let-ting go. None of us does it lightly or easily. We are clingers by nature, I think. Even as infants we fasten our fingers around lit-tle baubles and hold on with surprising strength. Paul talks about that in some of his Epistles. "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child . . ." (1 Co 13:11). I think (can we really remember it all now?) that it was not always easy to put aside the things of the child and become the responsible adult. Somehow, however awk-wardly, we did it. Sometimes it is not all pain--if the letting go of the old, famil-iar some thing, or some place, or some one means the reaching out Denise M. Callaghan SSND writes to us from 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. 1997 Callagban ¯ On Letting Go What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly listen! Y6 to some one new, or some place new, or some thing new that sat-isfies and delights us. But there are those letting go's that are just that: all pain. There is no exchange; there is an emptying out, a hollowing out, a hurt, a loneliness, a void. Some of us literally break under the strain of it. Some of us do not break, but we become bitter and withdrawn. Some of us bluff our way through or somehow just bury the ache. Some of us, quietly and with great wisdom, simply let go--and then go on. What a great grace! No matter who we are, no matter how well we do what we do, we will all need from time to time to be able to let go: ¯ the older for the younger, ¯ the familiar for the new and the different, ¯ the surety of the tried and the true for the promise of the untried and the possible, ¯ the mellowed for the freshly cured, ¯ the wisdom of experience for the vision and the dream of the not-yet-chanced. It cannot be done lightly, nor should it be. Wisdom cautions weighing and measuring, reflectively letting go, effectively hold-ing on. We need to pray that the Spirit of wis-dom will inform us. We need to be attentive listeners to the movement of the Spirit in our own hearts and to trust that message. We also need to pray to be good listeners one to another. No one of us is so informed that our own judgment is always best. So we listen and weigh our view again, in light of someone else's wisdom and insight, There is a courtesy we owe one another, and a respect, and an esteem. We listen to each other, not dismissing the line of rea-soning, but attentively pondering it. What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly lis-ten! It is rare that we really do this. It can be singularly painful to someone when we do not do it, as when one who over a span of years has been looked up to as wise and judicious, insightful and intuitive, now senses that her views are being suddenly and sum-marily dismissed by younger members of the community. The real pain here is the feeling she has, upon seeing her remarks mentally brushed aside or not even fairly listened to, that she her-self is being discarded. This kind of not listening can go the other way, too. Someone Review for Religious young and presumably inexperienced touches deftly and wisely the very core of the issue and is merely smiled at as though youth's inexperience cannot possibly know anything that is truly perti-nent and helpful. All of us, of course, are painfully aware that most wisdom seems to come only by hindsight. Wisely did St. Augustine pray often for the grace of a "listening heart." We do indeed have to try our best to speak truth as we perceive it. Beyond that, we need the grace to be able to let go and try to pick up the truth in the words of others. Sometimes the need to let go can concern only myself: ¯ the death of a loved'one when I cannot even imagine living my life apart from that person, ¯ the loss of a friend in some painful misunderstanding that somehow cannot seem to be remedied, ¯ the diminishment and inability brought on by serious illness or aging, ¯ the hurt when politics decides who gets the promotion or the credit or the acclaim. One other demand on us individually from time to time will be the letting go of memories. We need never let go of the very heartening memories that enrich us and that are among our most precious treasures. We thank God over and over for those times, those persons, those events that set our hearts to singing at their every recall. But we do need to let go, with God's help, when the memory is painful and the whole episode shouts of injustice or rash judgments or false accusations or just plain dislike. It is right to try to remedy the wrong, particularly if it is done to someone else. Jesus asks each of us to be a speaker of truth. But when every effort fails and every avenue of remedy is sealed off, we need sim-ply to let go and to go on. It is not easy. Yet holding on and nurs-ing the grudge can be utterly destructive. We give the victory to the demon of darkness and we hurt God's cause. Ther

Issue 40.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1981. ; 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. © 1981 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscriplion orders or change of address, write: REVIFW I:OU RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1981 Volume 40 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW RELtGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVII-:w for RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in- Action David J. Hassel, S.J. Father Hassel's earlier article, "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," appeared in the November, 1980 issue. The present article is also a chapter from his projected book on prayer. Father's address is: Jesuit Community; Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. To contemplate is to see a thing or an event or a person as a whole. It is to grasp the totality of a situation and then to let wonder rise, deep fears and hopes surface, the fire of ambition be kindled, and the still-point of one's being touched. Thus contemplation not only views wholeness but also begins to instill it in the contemplator, an experience much needed in our fragmenting times. Persons lacking commitment to focus their energies, families lacking the love to heal their wounds, and nations lacking noble purpose to render them united--all need contemplation as much as the thirsty and starving need drink and food.' Now the power of contemplation appears in theaction which it structures and directs. Thus contemplation-in-action not only carries appreciation for the whole of a situation and thus renders the contemplator more wholesome but also enters into the very situation contemplated to make it more wholesome. For this reason, the more active a person is and the more deeply he or she interacts with others, the more important becomes contemplation for this person's every action. Indeed, the more explicitly tThis thirst and hunger for the meaning and wholeness of life is eloquently and poignantly record-ed in Studs Terkel's interviews with people from all walks of life. His contemplative book, Work-ing (Avon, New York, 1975, pp. xiii-xv) discovers "the happy few who find a savor in their daily job," and the many whose discontent is hardly concealed: 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 aware we become of contemplation-in-action within our experience, the better we can promote it in ourselves and in others for the healing of our wounded world. But, as always, difficulties arise which keep us from recognizing contem-plation- in-action and from living it more deeply within our experience. First of all, one can observe with envy the high intensity of secular contemplation in the action of artist or business person and can then expect this same intensity to occur within one's own religious contemplation-in-action. False expecta-tions always result in discouragement. Secondly, because monastic people do much of the writing about contemplation, one can mistake monastic contemplation for the apostolic type more characteristic of lay people, diocesan clergy, and active religious orders. Again, confusion here can dissipate religious energies. A third problem connected with recognizing contemplation-in-action is that the latter is an awareness permeating all one's activities. Therefore, it cannot be exposed by merely lifting off one or other layer of experience, nor be isolated by tracing its roots in one particular activity. Consequently--and this is the fourth difficulty--contemplation-in-action will express itself in a great variety of modes as it appears at diverse levels of experience and in different activities, even though it may be a single pervasive attitude. As a result, a person may be lamenting his or her failure at contemplation-in-action while unknowingly practicing it with some success. Perhaps the following exploration2 of these four problems may yield some inkling of what contemplation-in-action is and some recognition of how the contemplative-in-action feels. This, in turn, could be the source of new satisfaction in one's life, perhaps even the beginning of a certain settled happiness. Religious Contemplation-in-Action Out of the Secular The first problem facing us is the confusion of secular with religious contemplation-in-action--an understandable mistake since the first naturally leads into the second. Like all forms of contemplation-in-action, the secular variety discovers and promotes remarkable wholeness in the contemplator and in the object contemplated. For example, the portrait-artist, while center-ing her consciousness intensely upon the child to be painted, tends to fall in love with the latter as feeling and insight blend gradually into the beautiful whole of the portrait and of the person portrayed. The craftsman, too, is fascinated as the pitcher, shaping under his hands at the potter's wheel, is lifted out of the clay in a blend of graceful shape with smooth pouring. The 2I am greatly indebted to Vincent Towers, S.J., James Maguire, S.J. and Donald Abel, S.J. for their detailed comments on the rough drafts of this article, to Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes for advice and technical assistance, to Dr. Julia Lane for expert encouragement, to the Warrenville (!11.) Cenacle community for their helpful.suggestions. Contemplation-in-Action / ~2~ novelist also shares in this disciplined joy of secular contemplation-in-action. Saul Bellow could not have given us Herzog, nor J. D. Salinger presented us with Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye, unless each had gone through a period of 'possessed aloofness' while in his imagination he watched and chronicled the full-bodied development of Herzog or Holden out of a vast variety of detailed activities. In the artist or craftsman or novelist, then, one witnesses the power of secular contemplation-in-action for producing that beautiful whole which delights the artist's own heart and the hearts of all beholders. But such contemplation-in-action is not limited to the sphere of the arts. Watch parents playing with their firstborn child and note their total concen-tration on eliciting new responses from it. As the child slowly unfolds before their eyes during its first twenty-four months, they become ever more dedicated to educating it to beautiful soundness of body, mind, and emotions. If this is not contemplation-in-action, what is? In a similar way, the neurosurgeon, carefully and even exultantly applying his previous week's study of X rays, medical research, and techniques to a brain operation, also experiences this contemplation-in-action as he restores wholesome life to his patient. So, too, the lawyer contemplates-in-action when she manages to see her way through the myriad details of a personal injury suit towards those underlying legal principles which will structure for her a forceful, tight case on behalf of her client, Nor is the business person without contemplation-in-action when intense ambition is painting a new vision and directing precise lines of energy to effect this vision. The resultant business organization is a daring orchestration of people and processes brought to total life for the wholesome delight of the business person's mind and heart and for the good of the community. Evidently, then, secular contemplation-in-action operates within any work, artistic or scientific, speculative or practical, to produce wholesomeness in both the contemplator and the action-situation. Explicitly, each of us has, in some way, experienced these types of secular contemplation-in-action and implicitly we compare their qualities with those of our own religious contemplation-in-action--to the depreciation of the lat-ter. Each of us asks in guilt: "Where in my religious contemplation-in-action is the intense centering, the fascinated.vision, the possessed aloofness, the total concentration and dedication, the exultant application to life, the deep satisfaction in wholeness, and the intense ambition of secular contemplatives-in- action?" Why should not the religious contemplative-in-action be \ discouraged--especially if he equates secular and religious contemplation-in-action and does not know that they are meant to nourish each other reciprocally and precisely out of their difference. To understand their respec-tive differences, let us consider how they cooperate. Religious contemplation-in-action completes the secular. For the wholes of self and of object discovered by secular contemplation-in-action take on fuller meaning and larger value witfiinthe more comprehensive wholes of the 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 everyday world and of God as these are found by religious contemplation-in-action. A dynamic reciprocity operates here between the two types of contemplation-in-action. As the secular contemplative-in-action (artist, business person, parent, neurosurgeon, or lawyer) enters more deeply into the object to find its wholeness, he becomes more aware of his personal wholeness since the intense concentration on the object demands full awareness of his powers. But such total awareness of object and of self eventually leads into fuller awareness of the everyday world since the secular contemplative must fit himself and the object contemplated into the larger world of, e.g., serving a client, supporting a family, relaxing socially with friends; wondering about the worth of the object produced by the secular contemplation-in-action. Eventually every secular contemplative-in-action has to ask those terrible questions: "How do I and my work fit into the ongoing world? Why should I continue to ply my art, trade, profession, parenthood? Where am I, my family, and my work heading finally?" Such questioning usually leads to the more religious questions: "Is there anything more than this total world? Is there someone or something permeating this world and leading it to a higher destiny, a fuller life? Can I contact this mysterious one or am I already doing so?" When such questions finally lead into the experience of a meaningful world and of a transcendent God, then religious contemplation-in-action has evolved out of the secular and now redounds to the enrichment of the latter. To see how this is possible, note what happens when a family friend at-tempts to heal a family quarrel. He listens intently as the various family members describe the events leading up to the quarrel. The friend tries to piece together (to do a secular contemplation of) this setting and the quarrel. Once he feels that he knows the whole scene, he endeavors to help each family member see this whole so that each can experience some healing-into-wholeness as each admits his or her own faults, the good points of other fami-ly members, the need to forgive each other, and the necessity of planning together for a better family future. This secular contemplation starts to become contemplation-in-action when each family member begins to act out of this vision. Such secular contemplation-in-action begins to move into its religious counterpart when each family member finds a reason to act beyond himself or herself for unified family action, e.g., the preservation of the fami-ly tradition or the hope for future family members. Later, this religious contemplation-in-action attains fullness when individually the family members think of themselves and act as Christians carrying Christ's presence within the family, and when socially this same family as a group does healing actions which image the future Great Community of the Great Tomorrow beyond the grave. But factually, this neat cooperation between secular and religious contemplation-in-action often breaks down. There is a tendency in each human to abort secular contemplation-in-action before it can rise into the religious. St. Augustine describes vividly how this happens when a person at- Contemplation-in-Action / 325 tempts .to control the world, his fellow human beings and himself apart from or in conflict with God's law and providence. In this case the secular con-templative so concentrates on another person or a business project or a grand scheme as to lose sight of the more comprehensive wholes of community-justice and of God's people. Here secular contemplation becomes divorced from religious. The result is that the secular contemplative becomes hypnotiz-ed by the object of contemplation (nothing else is of equal value), then abject-ly slavish to the latter (the object becomes the only hope), then frantically con-servative of this object (e.g., a beloved, a job, an ambition or fond hope, a favorite pastime like gambling or fishing, a power over others). Because all the person's efforts are so fiercely focused on saving his project, he tends to dissipate mind, heart, and imagination. Thus, in an ironic way, the con-templating person literally fragments himself in efforts to mold his private world into a lasting wholesomeness which fits his own self-image and peculiar needs, but which fails to fit the true wholeness of the world and the Transcen-dent One. As a result, even a person's secular contemplation-in-action tends to disintegrate when its religious completion is aborted. To put this positively, religious contemplation-in-action is a contempla-tion whose resultant activities aim to render man more wholesome within the wholing of the world as the latter develops within the dynamic whole of the Transcendent God. The vision of Teilhard de Chardin which sees the universe converging towards the transcendent Omega Point is one illustration of religious contemplation-in-action. The exuberance of such religious contemplation-in-action once achieved can then redound upon its secular counterpart to render the latter passionate for truth and eager for beautiful action within its peculiar sphere of influence. F~'om all this it should be clear that secular and religious contemplation-in- action are distinct and mutually modifying phases in the contemplative person's wholesome life.3 To confuse one with the other is, then, to neglect one for the other and even to risk diminishing both since they are so naturally interdependent. But even within.religious contemplation-in-action, there is a further clarification to be made. Its monastic variety is different from the apostolic, even though, again, both types are needed to stimulate and to enrich the life of God's people. Here, too, confusion of one with the other debilitates life. Within Religious Contemplation-in-Action, the Monastic and the Apostolic Differ Discouragement is just as apt to arise from confusing the apostolic and the 3Karl Rahner shows the intimate connection between secular and religious contemplation when he demonstrates that supernaturally elevated transcendentality (i.e., God's self-communication in grace) is mediated by any and every categorical reality, (i.e., by the world). For the Christian, there is no separate sacral realm where alone God is to be found (Foundations of Christian Faith, translated by William V. Dych, Seabury Press, New. York, 1978, pp. 151-152). 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 monastic within religious c0ntemplation-in-action as it is from equating secular and religious contemplation-in-action. For, to seek continually the qualities of one in the other is to be permanently misled and disappointed. Although all forms of secular contemplation seek for wholesomeness in con-templator and in object contemplated, nevertheless as many types of secular contemplation occur as there are types of contemplators, e.g., artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, philosopher, business person, parent, novelist and so on. It should be no great surprise, then, that the monastic religious contemplation-in- action of the Poor Clare or the Carthusian will be different from its apostolic counterpart in the life of lay person or diocesan priest or apostolic religious. In monastic contemplation the monk or nun searches deeply, within the roots of his or her innermost being, for personal wholeness and for the mysterious wholesomeness of God's life within this being. Now such a demand-ing search becomes possible only if the person withdraws from the more active concerns of life in the everyday world of the apostle. In his Contemplative Prayer, Thomas Merton makes it clear that the monk must devote himself in a special way to renunciation, repentance, and prayer if he is to sound the depths of his being for God.' In monastic religious contemplation-in-action, the quiet sinking into self to find God requires a strict control of attention as one undergoes the rigors of hard manual labor, very close community living, sometimes deafening silence, and occasionally piercing loneliness. Thus the relief from cultural pressures which enables monastic religious contemplation-in-action to occur is hardly an escape from suffering the harsh demands of love and of the daily labor for survival. But it is a religious contemplation-in-action diverse from that of the apostle in the world of art, business, medicine, education, and family. Unfortunately, much less is writteri about apostolic religious contemplation-in-action than about the monastic varietywespecially from the view of the layperson.~ Because the apostolic contemplative is ordinarily working in a professional position or a ,trade or a skill-job (secretary, housewife, telephone linesman, and so on) and is frequently involved in team-work, he or she must give much attention to the daily concerns of the world--the very concerns from which the monastic contemplative explicitly withdraws. Ttfis apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is more depend-ent on secular contemplation-in-action for its dynamism because apostolic contemplatives are intently pursuing professional jobs, trades, and skills through eight to ten hours per day. As a result, the apostolic contemplative is more concerned with outer wholeness of self and world, whereas the monastic 'Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Doubleday-Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1971 pp. 19-20). ~Thomas Vernor Moore's Life of Man with God, (Harcourt Brace~ New York, 1956), though quaint, contains case histories of ordinary people enjoying strong contemplation in action. Contemplation-in-Action / 397 contemplative concentrates more on the inner wholeness. Evidently both types of concern are needed by the civic and ecclesial communities since they complement each other. The outer beauty of technological, scientific, and cultural wholeness must be appreciated and promoted if the inner beauty of man's ultimate meaning and destiny is to exist and to be known in depth. On the other hand, the inner beauty of such wholeness makes possible all the outer beauty since the loss of ultimate meaning and destiny in human activities renders technology, science and culture vacuous: if not vicious. Nor is the withdrawal of the mohastic contemplative to be considered unique to this type of contemplation. The apostolic contemplative must prac-tice a somewhat similar asceticism if he or she is to be a first-rank artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, teacher, sports star, philosopher, business person, or parent. In order to focus intensely upon the contemplated object, such contemplators must withdraw steadily from distractions, occasionally from family life, often from comforts, not rarely from the spotlight of flattering attention. Though the person dedicated to apostolic religious contemplation-in-action may be immersed in the concerns of the world, still he or she must learn to live hidden within the teamwork of the institution and to withdraw from disruptive self-seeking of fame, fortune, and fun. Such withdrawal is essential if the contemplator is to discover better the wholeness of object, self, world, and God. For the aim of every contemplative is to become more whole in order better to see, in all their wholesomeness, other people, the tasks at hand, professional teamwork, family health, national purpose, ecclesial community and God himself. For this reason, the withdrawal should make one more attentive and appreciative of other people, of one's business, of art and music, of wholesome sanctity (a redundant phrase), of professional skill, of science and technology, and of oneself. Such wholesomeness, when appreciated, gives deep intellectual joy and is the fullest reward for disciplined suffering. Consequently, the various types of contemplation-in-action must be carefully distinguished so that each can be pursued with finesse. But since contemplation-in-action has so many ways of expressing itself according to each one's peculiar gifts, situations, aims, and tradition, it is no easy task to discover one's own way of contemplating-in-action. Since each type of con-templation aims at wholeness of object contemplated and of person con-templating, a major error here could fragment the contemplator's personality and induce shoddy activity within his or her specialized secular contemplation-in-action. With this caution in mind, one delves hesitantly within his experience for the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action, especially since this experience runs so deeply and so uniquely. Towards the Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Because apostolic contemplation-in-action is present deep within many actions of the secular contemplative, it can be approached only gradually 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 through four steps. The first step consists in answering a series of questions constructed to bring into better focus the secret unity of one's everyday ex-perience. Later, in a second step, reflection on the various levels of this every-day experience helps us to recognize at what level apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. The third step is to work out an explicit definition of such contemplation according to these levels. Here, in a fourth step, one can finally note the feel of contemplation-in-action as it happens within various levels and modes of experience. But let us now take the first of these four steps by leisurely answering for ourselves the following questions: I. Why do I usually get up on time in the morning and not let people wait? 2. Why do I bother to cook breakfast for others and not just for myself? 3. Why do I share my car with others and, on occasional rainy mornings, leave early to get them to work on time? 4. Why, at the job, do I help out on someone else's project when mine is not finished yet? 5. Why should I avoid the second beer at lunch because it makes me loggy at work? Who really cares about my efficiency? 6. Why scrimp and save for others--esp~ecially if they are likely to squander the savings? 7. Why take work and worries home from the~ job? Why bother studying at night to complete degree work or to be more competent in my next day's work? 8. Why keep up correspondence with friends or answer the third telephone call when I'm so tired at night? 9. Why be the one who usually corrects the children and who gets their resentment? 10. Why sometimes spend money meant for entertainment on the needs of others? 11. Why squeeze into the already packed day the Eucharist and another fifteen or more minutes of prayer? In other words, all these why's add up to a single last question: Why do we stretch ourselves out for others hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after year? Could the answer be that, amid all our sneaky ways, our clever vanities, our downright sins, and our cute manipulation of others to our own desires, we nevertheless do have a strong practical concern for peo-ple, for their welfare and happiness? Could it even be that, deep within, we each feel God quietly encouraging us to stretch our lives out to others? Could it be that, deep within, we want to delight the heart of God? If so, then this is what is called "the stretch," the almost constant doing.of the more difficult out of respect for others and for God. It is, in other words, the willingness to bleed slowly for loved ones and even, at times, for mere acquaintances. This "stretch," then, turns out to be a dynamic unity running through all the day's events to give them meaning and direction. Could it be that this is our seeking Contemplation-in-Action / 329 for God, our God-hunger? Is this our restlessness with anything less than God--a restlessness which renders us mystified at the self-serving actions of the trifler, the super-ambitious, and the bun vivant? Indeed, is this "stretch" or God-hunger the apostolic contemplation-in-action for which we are searching? It would seem not. For such contemplation lies underneath "the stretch" to make it happen. We must yet distinguish various levels of experience and then move underneath each to find the deepest level from where apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. And we find that there are four levels of experience to distinguish. The first or sur-face level is where minor irritations, like the sound of loud rock-and-roll music or the itch of eczema or the sudden hiccup occurs and where minor joys like a satisfying meal or a long sleep or a relaxed laugh, happen. Underneath this surface level, lies the second or physical level where the pains of ulcers or neuralgia lurk and the joys of exuberant good health or of strong sexual pleasure energize one. Underneath these two levels is the third or psychological level where one trembles with fear of failure in one's work or shrinks at seeing the beloved suffer, and where one also is Warmed with the security of being .loved deeply and faithfully by an admired person, or experiences the deep satisfaction of witnessing one's children growing up well. Underneath these three explicitly conscious levels which we all can recognize lies a more hidden fourth level known only implicitly, i.e., by con-trast with the top three levels. Thus a person can feel great joy and serenity at this fourth level, while at the upper three levels he feels terrible suffering and apparent fragmentation. Or the reverse may be the case. "Everything is going my way in health, job-~atisfaction, family life; I've got everything--except that I feel uneasy and deeply restless underneath all of this." In both in-stances, the person feels almost schizophrenic--so clear is the distinction be-tween the top three levels and the deepest fourth level of experience, so direct-ly reverse is the flow of events between the top-three and the fourth levels. Puzzling as this experience is, it is also a revelation of the fourth level where the root of contemplation-in-action lies and it will eventually lead us to the "feel" of apostolic contemplation-in action.6 Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is a Heart-Awareness of God and His People To state matters bluntly, apostolic contemplation-in-action is not "the stretch," the disciplined reaching out to others and to God from the third level of experience. It is not the constant calling to mind of God's presence, nor 61 have given a fuller description of these four levels of experience in "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VOI. 39, 1980/6. pp. 808-810, 817-819). Confer also "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment" (The Way, Supplement #6, May, 1968, pp. 27-34) by Felix Letemendia and George Croft for a similar description of four levels of experience. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 constant explicit aspirations, not the "Jesus prayer," nor one's favorite scrip-tural mantra on the second level of experience. It is not constant conversation with God on the second and first levels.7 Apostolic contemplation-in-action may cause these behaviors, but it is not any one or all of them. Rather, it is more like a heart-awareness of God, an affectionate and deep alertness to God in all events, a strong and warm conviction of God's loving presence at the fourth level underlying and yet permeating all life's experiences and hap-penings. 8 This heart-awareness seems to be always operative, like the buoyancy of a cork under water, always unobtrusive, like quiet background music in office or dining room, always implicit, like a mother's awareness of noisy children in the backyard while she is concentrating on a new cake recipe; always pulsing, like the tennis player's awareness of the beloved watching his match from the grandstands; always underlying, like the companionship between two friends whose attention is riveted on an engrossing motion picture; always growing osmotically, like the friendship between two people sitting in the front seat of a car and silently viewing the. countryside during a long trip. This heart-awareness appears not in the least to interfere with conversation or with algebra-solving or with. business-planning or with party-laughing or with landscape-painting or with surgical operating. Indeed, it can be said that this heart-awareness is actually a person's awareness of God's awareness of him while he works through the events of the day--much as when the lover tennis-star is implicitly aware of his beloved's awareness of him as she sits in the grandstand watching his play.9 This heart-awareness is like the alertness of the saints to God's providence in small happenings. God, like the air, is embracing the saints, enabling them to breathe, acting as the medium for all the surrounding events. In such an at-mosphere, nothing is insignificant. There is a second way in which this heart-awareness of God, called apostolic contemplation-in-action, can be described. It seems to be also a per- 'In reading Henri J. M. Nouwen's books and articles on spirituality, I have rarely felt anything but strong agreement--except for one article: "Unceasing Prayer" (America, Vol. 139/3, July 29--August 5, 1978, pp. 46-51), where Nouwen declares: "We convert our unceasing thinking in-to unceasing prayer when we move from a self-centered monologue to a God-centered di;~logue (p. 48)." Though he characterizes this prayer as contemplation, as attentive looking at God, and as presence to God, still the heavy emphasis on thinking and imagining in the article could lead the reader to a false mentalistic perception of praying always. 8In Love Alone (Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 89), Hans Urs Von Balthasar compares the unceasing prayer of heart-awareness to the "the way a man is always and everywhere influenc-ed by the image of the woman he loves." 9 John S. Dunne (The Reasons of the Heart, Macmillan, New York, 1978, pp. 46-54) gives an acute description of this heart-awareness of God wherein one feels known and loved deeply by God. He puts it in Meister Eckhart's terms: this is a laughing between God and man which images the Trinitarian life of mutual joy between and in the three persons. Contemplation-in-Action / 331 son's awareness of God present within him and working out through him into the lives of others. It would explain somewhat Paul the Apostle's remark: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me." In this implicit heart-awareness there is even a sense of acting beyond one's capacities, or of being borne along to meet events for which one feels strangely prepared beforehand. This does not imply that such experience is without suffering. On the contrary, the heart-awareness has the tendency to make one more sensitive to the suffering of others and of one's self and even more ready to assume sorrow. For, remarkably, this heart-awareness opens one up not only to God but also simultaneously to God's people and his world. It would seem to contain a readiness for friendship, and for the obligations consequent upon friendship. It is not a state achieved by spiritual gymnastics, by much reading on the meaning of life, by the use of diaries, by experimental prayer-sessions, by con-stant aspirations, and God-conversation, or by psychological dynamics. Rather, it seems to arise within the disciplined service of others out of love. In other words, "the stretch" seems to set up the conditions in which this heart-awareness, this apostolic contemplation-in-action, occurs. The latter would seem, then, to he a natural development in a healthy life of service to God and his people. It appears to be an availability to others which is adaptive~to their needs, hopes, joys and sorrows and which consequently takes on emotional coloring and religious content by way of this adaptation. For this reason, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is not an esoteric gift but one which is given to many good people by a God eager to promote such heart-awareness of himself and of his people. After all, such awareness would seem to include a penchant for fulfilling the two Great Com-mandments under a vast array of different circumstances and, therefore, under many diverse modes of action. It is time, then, that we considered some of these modes. In this way we can experientially both test the understanding and get the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action. Various Modes in Which Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is Felt Apostolic religious contemplation-in-action as heart-awareness of God is, then, a deep good will towards God, a warm desire for God, a loving remembering of him in his people and his universe. This single basic convic-tion naturally expresses itself in a thousand different ways according to the thousand diverse activities of the apostolic contemplative. Among these thou-sand ways are the following eleven (if you can recognize them in your ex-perience, then you have, I would ~hink, the "feel" of apostolic contempla-tion- in-action): 1. Hope: a pervading sense of the worthwhileness of one's present life and work for the future; a certain fearlessness in facing radical changes within one's community amid the sudden turnings of history. "Why is everyone so depressed?" 2. Patience: St. Paul's hypornone, the strength to stand underneath and to 339 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 hold everything together when all seems to be coming apart and others are deserting the supposedly sinking enterprise; a kind of dilapidated, yet dedicated, serenity amid much suffering and uncertainty. An ~'old-shoe" type says: "What's the big ~panic about?" 3. Need to be Hidden in teamwork: a wanting to contribute one's best quiet-ly; and yet, in times of stress, a boldness to take on the tough job of leadership. "Tell me what you want done--and if you can't tell me, I'll tell you." 4. Passive Alertness to Others: a willingness to wait, to listen, to hear out a person or a situation; a deep respect for the individuality of others; a refusal to domineer in conversation-work-dispute; no demand for a return on love given--because of trust in the other and in God. "I've got time to listen. Relax." 5. A Senseof Being Companioned through the day (at the fourth level): never being alone because at the centei" of one's heart and of the whole world'is the beloved: a turning to God, and frequently finding him there waiting. "Why worry about anything so long as the Lord is with me?" 6. Sense of an Intimate Providence in one's life, of being cared for with remarkable delicacy: events that at first put everything in jeopardy and turmoil eventually turn out to be fortunate; chancehappenings are later seen to fit together with precision; surprises'are taken as God's special attention to a person rather than as senseless interruptions to his or her life. "Someone loves me and is guiding me to himself over this rough road and dangerous terrain." 7. Sense of Belonging to God, to the Church (his people), to the mother of God, to one's community (parish, family, neighborhood, religious order, charismatic prayer-group): a sense of finally being at home--no matter where I travel; a deep content with God, world, oneself in the midst of contradiction. "Yes, my God owns the world--now what's the problem?" (". the world, life and death, the present and the future, are all your ser-vants; but you belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God" I Co 3:22-23.) 8. Firm Conviction of Doing Exactly What God Wants at the Moment and of not wanting to do anything else or to be anywhere else: a sense of rightness (without righteousness) about one's present action; a determined sense of vocation which is nevertheless ready for change; riding hard, yet sitting easy, in the saddle. "For the moment this is where it all is." 9. Constant Hunger to Serve Others: to give them joy, to help them expand their personalities in happiness-knowledge-commitment--even though the servant (e.g., teacher, counselor) will be soon forgotten and very likely will have little'to show for his or her services. "How can I be of help without getting in your way?" 10. A Steady Sense of Gratefulness to God: for the fullness of one's life--for each person, event, knock-at-the-door; a wonder at how much God has entrusted to oneself; gratitude, the mark of maturity and full humaneness. Contemplation-in-Action "How could you be so good to me, Lord?" 11. Finding God in Others: seeing by faith that this person is beloved by God; not projecting some Christ-image on the person so that the latter is not seen for himself and is therefore depreciated, but rather discovering this new value in the person, and therefore serving him more carefully, listening to him more attentively, finding his core-goodness. "He is my brother and Christ's brother.'" 0 These eleven modes (they could be a thousand) have an inner unity amid their diversity." First of all, each is concerned with the wholeness of both the contemplative and the object contemplated. For example, hope sums up the whole past and present to send the totality into the future without a constrict-ing fear; patience serenely holds the present fragmenting situation together; hidden teamwork binds the group together and offers leadership when fragmentation or misdirection threatens; passive alertness to others offers time and support for the healing process; the sense of being companioned at the center of one's being leads into a sense of providence intimately and delicately converging all events towards a full future goodness; the sense of belonging to God-community-worm produces a wholesome contentedness which paradox-ically can issue into fierce efforts to build a better community and world with the firm conviction of doing exactly What God wants at the moment; the con-stant selfless hunger to serve others naturally builds wholesome community; and the steady sence of gratefulness to God means gratefulness to other which, in turn, produces the close unity of friendship.'2 Clearly, then, this heart awareness of God, this apostolic religious contemplation-in-action, fulfills well the definition of contemplation as the perceiving and the building of wholesomeness in the comtemplative and in the object contemplated. There is a second inner unity among these eleven modes of contemplation-in- action. Evidently, each mode is itself an attitude (an habitually lived value) which inspires and molds the.activity flowing out of it. In other words, the mode of contemplation controls the actibn of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. But each of the eleven attitudes embodies, in its own way, a single attitude common to them all: a total accepting of all reality (God, t°Yves Raguin, S.J. (Paths to Contemplation, translated by Paul Barrett, O.F.M. Cap., Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1974, p. 82), stresses that "the love of God teaches us to love others for themselves., just as they are, with all their defects and with all their hopes." Here he finds common ground between Eastern and Western schools of contemplation, but also great differences (pp. 4-11). "In How to Pray Always without Always Praying (Fides/Claretian, Notre Dame, Ind., 1978) Silvio Fittipaldi, O.S;A., speaks of prayerfulness as a basic life-orientation under!ying all one's activities (p. vii). He then deftly shows how deep questioning of everyday events (pp. 11-27) and a constant wondering-longing about life (pp. 29-40) can be a praying always. These are two more modes to add to the eleven already noted. '21n his Letter to the Colossians, St. Paul, when listing the signs of Christian growth (1:9-12), ap-pears to mention five or six of these modes of contemplation in action. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 world, self, people) and a sense of being, in turn, accepted by all reality.' ~ This attitude is a deep welcoming of all the people and events of life--an attitude symbolized when one's arms are extended wide in service and one's face bears a confident smile of trust." Now among the eleven modes, one may rise in prominence to succeed a second which then recedes to be called upon at a later time for a different situation. Though a person~may temporarily feel, for example, less hope or less sense of intimate providence, nevertheless these attitudes remain even though submerged under the new succeeding mode of, e.g., passive alertness to others. Meanwhile, the single deepest attitude of simple acceptance or welcome is being expressed in one of the eleven (or one thousand) modes. The modes, of course, vary according to the needs of the situation, the type of work being done, or the growth-phase of the contemplative-in-action. But always the single basic attitude of welcoming acceptance knits them together with expectant trust in God and his world. Could it be that this unify-ing attitude is what enables the apostolic contemplative "to pray always"? Could it be, then, that this basic acceptance of God and of his world is the ac-tive embodiment of a man's fundamental option?" The negative side of this acceptance is dramatized in the death-bed rejection of family, God, and world, when the dying person implies: "God, you'v.e cheated me consistently with this harassing world of yours and with this demanding family of mine. Now stay out of my life forever." Such basic cynicism, bubbling corrosively in each of us, can eat away the roots of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. To face our cynicism may be to see more clearly the radical source of such ~c.ontemplation. Human Cynicism Versus the Divine Indwelling Over our contemporary culture a vast cloud of cynicism rolls, paralyzing the self-sacrificing attitude which empowers apostolic religious contempla- "Hans Urs Von Balthasar, in his article "On Unceasing Prayer" (Theology Digest Vol. 25/1, pp. 35-37), takes this basic attitude to be a readiness to hear God's word at all times in all things, events and persons. "To pray always, therefore, means to make real what is--in turning to God and to the world." For Von Balthasar, such constant prayer is kept alive by articulated or formal prayer in which it is remembered. "The books of George Maloney, S.J., sketch this weldoming attitude in various ways. Inward Stillness (Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., 1976), sees it as a loving surrender in all things to God's loving guidance (pp. 91-92) and as a heart-prayer of constant thankfulness (p. 99). Nesting in the Rock (Dimension Books, 1978, pp. 86 ff.), develops this theme. The Breath of the Mystic (Dimension Books, 1974, pp. 181-183), speaks of contemplation-in-action as a "contuition," a simultaneous awareness of the creature and of the dynamic presence of God within the creature as its ground of being; it is, then, a lov, ing affinity for all with all b~ings. ~qn his How to Pray Today (Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1975, translated by John Beevers, pp. 40-41), Yves Raguin, S.J., finds that the basic disposition for prayer is acceptance of the human condition. Such acceptance first acknowledges that every good act is under the influence of the Holy Spirit and then enjoys this fact amid all the ups and downs of secular activity. Contemplation-in-Action / 335 tion-in-action. In the face of mammoth social problems, contemporary man is oftencounseled: "Always watch out first for Number One, otherwise you'll be suffocated by other people's needs." The human mind and heart then con-cludes: "Apostolic contemplation-in-action is impossible." And the Lord replies within the heart of each person precisely as he responded to Peter's similar complaint in the episode involving the rich young man: "Yes; it is im-possible- without God." This complaint often takes the form of an objection: "How can I who am so aware of my own fragmentation and partialness be expected to help others to wholesomeness? Who am I to attempt apostolic contemplation-in-action?" The very formulation of this objection is a humiliating experience, yet the humiliation happens to be the first step in doing such contemplation-in- action. Tho married couple raising three young children has known from the days of the first birth that the one spouse's partiainess will, paradoxically and often humiliatingly, be the source of the other's wholesomeness. Hus-band and wife need each other's partialness to become whole, just as they need their own growing wholesomeness to lure their children to wholesome living and just as they need their children's needs tO call them to greater wholesomeness of action. Christ, knowing thoroughly the agony of bringing fragmentation to wholeness, is there to help with Cana's sacrament of matrimony. Thus, apostolic contemplation-in-action, through this sacra-ment, can be intimate to the daily routines of married life; while at the same time the seeming impossibility of marital contemplation-in-action reveals to the cynical that the heart-awareness of God and his people is pure gift. Not rarely the most cyn. ical person of all concerning apostolic contemplation-in-action is the priest ministering the sacrament of reconcilia-tion, that efficacious sign of ultimate wholeness. In the confessional, his fragmented, partial self laments: "I should be confessing to this good pe{son, not he to me. His wholesomeness comes through the more deeply he sorrows over his failures to be of help to his wife and children, his friends and co-workers." Yet as the Lord permeates the priest's absolution to heal the peni-tent, he simultaneously heals the priest precisely through the iatter's humilia-tion at his own fragmentation. The gift of reconciliation for the penitent can often contain the gift of apostolic contemplation-in-action for the priest. Somehow, in allowing God to work through him, the priest has acted beyond his own capacities as a human being and has simultaneously increased the wholeness of the penitent and of himself. But this example is not meant to imply that apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is easily acquired and done. For this basic attitude of welcoming acceptance of God and world, this heart-awareness of God and his people, animates and directs "the stretch," that continuous, disciplined action of serving, healing and challenging others beyond one's own capacities. For the gift of heart-awareness of God and his people demands that the apostolic contemplative constantly and painfully grow in generous action for 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 others. To operate beyond one's capacities in this way means to take risks con-tinually and to undergo humiliations inevitably. There must, then, be some unique source of illumination and strength within the being of the apostolic contemplative-in-action. Otherwise, he or she would fragment under the pressures and demands of such a life. It would appear that the divine indwelling of the Trinity is this ultimate source for apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. In Christ's prayer for his disciples (Jn 17:18-23), a prayer of "wholing" action, he speaks of "send-ing" the disciples, and all his believers, just as the Father had sent him so that "All may be one as you, Father, are in me and I in you; I pray that they may be [one] in us, that the world ma.), believe that you sent me." Apostolic contem-plation- in-action becomes, then, the manifesting of the Son, Jesus Christ, to the world in the apostolic actions of the contemplative. But the very action promoted by Jesus within the contemplative has also contained Jesus' mani-festation of the Father to this contemplative. As a result the contemplative's action in the world reveals both the Father and the Son. In this way, the apostolic contemplative becomes Their living glory expressed for all to see in the contemplative's maturing manhood or womanhood. Such action enables Father and Son to be present incarnately to the world. At the same time, the Spirit, indwelling in the people of God and in the contemplative, inflames the contemplative's actions so that they become more truly and fully acts of love (caritas) which simultaneously cause wholeness in others and in the con-templative. Here apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is seen to go far beyond the human capacities of the contemplative as it heals the world into wholesomeness through "the stretch." At this point, the problem of apostolic contemplation-in-action becomes more evident. Misunderstanding of it makes one feel falsely guilty for not hav-ing mystical graces of extraordinary mental vision and will-strength, for not being able physically to see Christ in the other, for not keeping the morning's solitary prayer in unbroken continuity through the day, for not enjoying fre-quent upsurges of strong consolation during work. But rather, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is the gradual and painful explicita- ~tion of the divine indwelling operative in all the contemplative's actions. It is the slow bringing-to-consciousness of the Trinity's workings within the con-templative's actions, within "the stretch." Now this gradual awareness is, concretely and basically, the apostolic con-templative's developing attitude of welcoming acceptance towards God, his people, and his world. By operating unobtrusively behind and within all the contemplative's actions in the world, this attitude leaves the contemplative's senses, mind, emotions, decision-power, and imagination free to concentrate on the particular work and the persons at hand. As a result, the contemplative is not less, but more, present to the work and the people; not less, but more, alert to their needs; not less, but more, hopeful of their expanding wholesomeness. Such total dedication, made possible by apostolic religious Contemplation-in-Action / 337 contemplation-in-action, becomes that magnificent self-forgetfulness which Karl Rahner sees as "praying always" and as beautiful surrender to God." Consequently, this deep heart-awareness of God and his people which constitutes apostolic contemplation-in-action can be a gradual expansion of the indwelling Trinity's effective presence within the contemplative's "stretch." This presence rises slowlythrough the contemplatives's whole be-ing so that his arms can go out in self-forgetting welcome to God and his world. Thus, the contemplative's subsequent actions carry ever more passion, strength, intelligence, compassion and wholesome beauty. Such con-templative action can then manifest strong love without crushing the beloved and competent service without condescension to the beneficiary. For it will in-clude the fuller action of the indwelling Trinity seeking to make all humans one as the Father, Son and Spirit are one in their own eternal wholeness of the divine family. ~6Karl Rahner, The Religious Life Today (Seabury, New York, 1976), p. 49. The" Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The White Robed Citadins of Paris M. Grace Swift, O.S.U. Sister Grace teaches at Loyola University of the South. Her mailing address is: Box 192; Loyola University; New Orleans, LA 70118. Ancient bells begin their clamorous count-down of eleven hours. A hooded nun, enshrouded in yards of creamy white wool, rises from her place on the matted rug-covered nave floor of St. Gervais et Protais Church, Paris. She mounts the steps, bows deeply before the icon enshrined on the massive altar, and with her Easter taper, lights the seven-branched menorah standing in back of the Eucharistic table. The Sunday liturgy begins as the celebrant and choir proclaim the central theme: "All you who have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ, Alleluia." During the next hour and a half people from all corners of Paris, indeed from all corners of the world, will find themselves involved in a liturgy that is uniquely prayerful, reverent, dramatic, and stunningly beautiful. For this is why this community came to be--to provide for harried urbanites a setting where they could find an oasis of prayer, where a celebration of the sacred mysteries could unfold with the leisurely, spellbinding grandeur of a true monastic milieu. The people of Paris have voted with their feet for the effort. Before the liturgy begins, the monks (roughly about a dozen) enter individually and kneel on the left side of the wide nave, their prayer area en-cased on two sides by choir stalls. An equal number of nuns, wearing the same deep-sleeved white habit enter, with only one apparent difference in their clothing: the nuns wear the capuche on their heads, while the monks allow it to hang down the back. In back of the kneeling monastic communities, the nave is filled with worshippers whokneel, like them (and very close to them), on the reed rug. Others sit on benches or chairs at the sides and in front of the altar area. In France, one may look in vain in many churches for young people at- 338 Citadins of Paris / 339 tending mass, but here, they are conspicuously evident. One willowy lad sits cross legged on the floor, proclaiming by his rigidly straight back and tucked in chin that he has dabbled in Zen. At times, many of the youths uninhihitedly imitate the profound, fetal-positioned bows of the worshipping monks and nuns. Some wear the special metal cross that identifies them as youths who have spent a week at Taiz6. A turbaned black girl peals forth the French lyrics with the sobbing overtones her tribal ancestors once used to summon dark Senegalese spirits. No guitars, no cheap gimmicks draw them there, for this liturgy is designed to meet the tastes of some of the most cultured urbanites of the world. Along with the youths, a solid strata of bourgeois Parisians also compose the congregation. Everywhere one spots nuns of various congrega-tions, as well as many men who by their nondescript blue and gray suits reveal to a trained eye that they are French priests. They, too, need the nourishment of St. Gervais. As mass progresses, a drunk ambles down the side aisle and dazedly turns 360°. With a blank stare at the congregation and a gesture of appeal with his hands he mutters, "Mes fr~res." He provides no lasting distraction, for all attention is riveted on the liturgical drama. Its magnetism lies not only in its splendid integration of prayer and majestic Byzantine-style music, but also in the witness of the monks and nuns themselves. The communities in charge of this liturgy are now called Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. The monks started life under the leadership of Pierre Marie Delfieux on November 1, 1975, with the invitation and blessing of FranCois Cardinal Marty of Paris. On December 8, 1976 a company of women formed in a neighboring area near the Church of Notre Dame des Blancs Manteaux. The Rule specifically states that there never was or would be any intention of having a mixed community; each group has its own separate establishment and administration, though they do celebrate the liturgy together and share the same spirit and aims--to be monks and nuns in the city, or citadins.~ They have no pastoral, sacramental, teaching, or organized charitable commitment. Signs notify the public that for weddings and sick calls, they can contact the neighboring churches. The members of these groups aim chiefly: 1) to be present in the city and 2) to celebrate the liturgy and divine office in company with the townspeople. The liturgy being a prime concern of their existence, they take time to plan and execute it with all the artistry their con-siderable, combined talents can effect. In choosing a style of.music for their services, the leaders concluded that much of the contemporary church music was shallow, both musically and theologically. Wanting a dominant style that would manifest a global unity, 'Two articles in French give some information al~out these communities: Jean Leclerq, O.S.B., "Tendances Monastiques Actuelles," Nouvelle Revue Theologique, 10e Ann6e, No. i (January- February, 1978), pp. 90-102 and "Naissance d'une Fraternit~ Monastique ~t Paris," Carmel (April, 1976), pp. 56-66. 340 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 they chose Byzantine modes to accompany their Roman liturgy. With lyrics based upon psalmic and patristic sources, translated effectively into French, the simple, strong, rolling harmonies are easily mastered. The result is almost total participation by the congregation. St. Gervais boasts one of the oldest and finest organs in Paris. It is used selectively and effectively at the end of the liturgy and during special times of meditative prayer. The sisters, with beautiful, clear voices, take an active role in leading the singing, in reading, and in gathering together the offertory procession, which always includes lay people and children. An abundant use of incense in the liturgy adds even more of an aura of Byzantine mystery to the ceremony. The Fraternit6 includes several priests. For the Sunday liturgy, the con-celebrants sing, in three harmonic parts, the canon of the mass. Some other parts of the mass, sung alone by the chief celebrant, are accompanied by a background of soft, harmonic melody, hummed by the monks and nuns. At communion time, the frdres and soeurs draw together to form a half-circle about the altar, completed sometimes by lay. members of the congregation. The priests chant in harmony: "Receive the body of Christ," to which the congregation responds in the same harmonic parts: "We receive the body of Christ." A huge host, the size of an American dinner plate, is broken and dist~'ibuted to the encircled brothers and sisters. The same sung ritual accom-panies the chalice. The result is a moving evocation of a truly shared banquet. The total impression given by all the reverent and graceful movements of the mass is that this is the most important event in the lives of the celebrating com-munity- which is just as it should be. The Monastic Fraternit6s The vocation of citadin was revealed to the founder of the F.raternit6s after profound searching in prayer. The rules for community life have been developed in stages, after actual experience in communal living. The guidelines (for communal use only) are now contained in two mimeographed volumes: l) Au Coeur des Villes, au Coeur de Dieu (At the Heart of the Cities, At the Heart of God) and 2) Le Livre de Vie(The Book of Life). Abundant scriptural references in the latter remind the reader that Mary lived, Jesus taught, the apostles evangelized, and prophets and priests of old sacrificed, in the city. Christ fought the devil and conquered him in a city; the fire of the Holy Spirit descended in a city. The beloved of the Canticle sought her Lover while running about the city, and one day He will make the city his beautiful spouse. Indeed, Heaven itself is a City. "It is there that we must remain," the Rule affirms, since God himself dwells there, and thousands of his brothers work, love, weep, sweat, sing, search, struggle and pray there. The Church of St. Gervais is surrounded by all the civic bustle entailed in commerce and governmental administration. It is near the Quais du Seine where lovers stroll l and tourists buy postcards. Its metro stop is H6tel de Ville, the seat of many offices of Parisian city government. Walking in another direction, a visitor Citadins of Paris / 341 soon meets Rue Rivoli, a thriving center of cheap stores and sidewalk vendors selling anything from ice cream to wool stockings. The picturesque Tie Saint Louis, an ancient area called the Marais, and le Forum des Halles are also located in its orbit. The Rule does not lightly gloss over the difficulties of trying to live a monastic life amidst the allurements of one of the world's most beguiling cities. But, the Livre de Vie asks, "Being torn in two directions, is this not the cross?" To be able to live in the city without succumbing to its worldliness, rules of life are spelled out in the Le Livre de Vie which provide for the monks and nuns an armor of fraternal charity, interior and exterior silence, and liberating poverty. Concrete community guidelines focus upon five related points: 1) Fraternal Life 2) Prayer 3) Work 4) Silence and 5) Welcome and Sharing. Fraternal Charity The Rule never ceases to demand love, both of humanity in general and, harder still, of each other. "Only a very great love can offer the world a legitimate and fair defiance," the Livre de Vie explains. "Our vocation is to be a theophany of the love of God, a living icon of the Trinity. There is no more beautiful liturgy, no more eloquent witness, than that of fraternal love. We must live in the heart of the city the mystery of that love." Along with such a sublimely beautiful articulation of theory, the rule gives some concrete sug-gestions for achieving it: "Ask each day that God pour into your heart love for your brothers, and also to place love for you in their hearts. God can refuse nothing to a community who prays this way., ask the trinitarian God to reveal to you the secret of his unity in plurality . In order to succeed in loving, become transparent. Let yourself be known and seek to know. Knowledge opens the way necessarily to love . Do not be content to be a brother of all; be also a friend of each . Pray that the monastic fraternity be entirely translucent to the Presence of the Word, as a foyer of Light . " Prayer Designedly, the community life of prayer has both very public and very private features. Compline is said in their own oratories, but for the monks, the other hours are sung in St. Gervais, with public participation. The p~riod of evening pra~;er begins around 5 p.m. At that time, monks, nuns and townspeople begin to gather for meditative prayer, followed by the evening office. The office flows into the liturgy about 6 p.m., which finally finishes about 7:15. On Thursday night, the monks keep a prayer vigil from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. "Pray in the night in the center of the miseries and joys of the city, where ~God has placed you, as a watchman awaits the dawn," the Livre de Vie exhorts. The founders realized that the execution of such a horarium and liturgy each day could be draining; for that reason the communities have a poustinia (desert) time during Sunday afternoon and the full day of Monday, 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 which is spent in the country outside Paris. They join Parisians in the national custom of taking a grand vacance during the month of August. Work To support themselves, the members of the Fraternit~s must take jobs in the city. Guidelines demand that their work must be truly useful, prayerful, well executed, and bear witness to their professed poverty. In line with their vow of obedience, their job is chosen in consultation with the prior and council of the community. No job may be taken which could alienate or destroy their religious equilibrium. By a deliberate option to work only part time, they hope not only to free themselves for liturgical participation, but also to manifest to an acquisitive society their own disinterest in amassing wealth. Though they take menial jobs, there is no political aim or thrust to this option. "Ni Marx, ni Keynes, ni Mao. mais Jesus," declares the Livre de Vie. They are to have no role whatsoever in political life, since in that arena, divisions, confronta-tions and compromises are the rule of life. Instead, they are to manifest the Gospel of Peace in the polis by their lives of justice and truth. This alone is their "political" role. However, in an elocution to the community, Cardinal Marty urged them to be "revolutionary"-- but revolutionary in fidelity to their monastic commitment only. Silence To combat the noisy assaults of city streets, with their roaring, swirling masses of buses, autos, motorcycles and scurrying citizens, the monks and nuns are urged by rule to drink deeply of the wellsprings of prayerful silence: "At work, in the street, in your comings and goings, in the public transport, in the midst of the brouhaha of the city, carry interior silence with you. Take, each day, large expanses of silence, and when the evening comes, meditate on your couch in peace and silence. God lives in you; listen to him." Welcome and Sharing One purpose of the Fraternit~s is' to provide an enclave of such silence and peace for other Parisians. Guests are welcomed to full participation at the silent dinner served at their flower-bedecked wooden tables. In contrast to ~normal French custom, no wine, and little meat are to appear at the table. Round loaves of thick crusted, substantial bread form an important part of their diet: Though visitors are welcome, there are definite limits placed upon thepenetration of Paris (and the world in general) into the horarium of the monastic community. Afternoons are for lectio divina. The Livre de Vie tells the entering candidate to leave aside his address book, and to give up once and ~f for all shows and cinemas. Television has no part in their life, but a summary of the day's news is read at breakfast from the newspaper. Citadins of Paris / 343 Life-Style Guidelines for the community actually allow for a diversity of life-styles and a diversity of relationships to the community, within limits. However, only those who agree to follow the Livre de Vie may make final profession. Presently (1980) the Fraternit~s have the status of a pious union. After a postulancy of three months and a novitiate of two years, a candidate makes temporary profession "entre les mains" (between the hands) of the prior. After a period suitably long to discern a true vocation to the life, the bishop of the local church receives the perpetual profession of vows of the candidate in the local church, for the universal church. The coule blanche, the liturgical habit, has many sacred significances. It reminds the wearer of his white bap-tismal garment when he dons it. Its radiant whiteness recalls as well the Transfiguration and the angel on Easter morn, who wore a garment white as snow. The Ancient One in Daniel's vision had snow bright clothing, and a man in dazzling robes appeared to Cornelius in Acts. At home, the monks wear a short, blue hooded smock, topped by a wooden cross suspended from the neck. The latter is also worn with their street clothes. The sisters, like many other groups, have types of non-liturgical dress that vary with their jobs and mode of life. Several wear floor-length blue habits, veils and capes in the streets. Others wear the simple clothing of working women. Spiritual Wellsprings The founder acknowledges his debt to many traditions in developing the spirituality of the Fraternit6s: to Benedict, Dominic, Augustine, Theresa of Avila, the Early Eastern Fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and above all, to the first Christian community described in Acts, as well as the fraternity immediately surrounding Jesus Christ himself. The Livre de Vie and Au Coeur des Villes are liberally enriched with quotes from sources as widespread in time as St. John Cassian and Catherine de Hueck. Believing that communal self-sufficiency in spiritual matters is ossifying, members are urged to nourish themselves on outside resources. The candidate is encouraged to spend a week at a school of prayer at Troussures, France, and make a retreat at a monastery such as St. Benoit sur Loire. Finally, a month-long desert experience at a place like Assekrem, Morocco, is encouraged. Future Plans It is quite evident that this group has tried to proceed every step of the way attuned to the promptings of the Spirit. The Fraternit6s have been invited to bring their type of monasticism to various cities. So far, they have accepted one invitation: under the priorship of Bishop Michel Marie Darmencieo, a member of the Fraternit6, they now are situated at St. Victor's Church at Marseilles, the scene of a monastery established by St. John Cassian. By rule, the community is forbidden to own property or t6 build anything. Wherever they go, they must rent their dwelling place. Into whatever city they do go, ~i44 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 ~they will enter with the purpose expressed in the explanatory sheet distributed in St. Gervais; to "experien.ce the difficulties, alienations, struggles, work, constraints, fatigue, noise, pollution, pains and joys, the sin and the holiness" of the city. Wherever they go, they likewise bear with them the spirit expressed in the Livre de Vie: "Do not forget that the community where you live is the privileged part of the universe where you are to situate yourself. May your monastery be first of all a part of the world where there is life, where love is shared, where joy, work, fervor, praise and peace are to be found. As at home, so also in the world. Reveal and find God in the heart of the world; remember its first beauty and anticipate its happiness to come. In the desert of the urban world may your monastery be an oasis of peace, prayer and joy; an epiphany of Love." On the final page of the Livre de Vie, Psalm 136 is transcribed: . If l forget you Jerusalem, Maymy right hand wither. One does not easily forget a liturgy at St. Gervais in communion with Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. End of Drought 1 half awoke last night And wondered if I'd heard Soft whisperings outside my window. 1 was about to go back and continue my dream Then 1 stopped--and listened again. Yes, it was true A gentle rain Soft falling on my lawn. The bone cracked earth and croaking grackles Could drink again. It was a stealthy rain Loathe to intrude on the silent sleepers. Then in the morning it blew full blast And blessed the farmers and the flowers. Sr. Mary Margaret O'Grady Holy Ghost Convent 301 Yucca Street San Antonio, Texas 78203 Transfer to a Contemplative Community Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie's last article in these pages, "The Discernment of the Contemplative Vocation," appeared in the January 1981 issue. Her address remains: 1916 N. Pleasantburg Dr.; Greenville, SC 29609. These very days of your transition are perhaps the time when everything in you is working at him. Rainer Maria Rilke Though the changes in religious life consequent upon Vatican 1I are still too recent for adequate evaluation, they are beginning, at least, to come into the focus of observable patterns. One of these is the phenomenon of transfers from one religious congregation to another. A small but significant number of religious have opted to remain in religious life, but to live out their vowed commitment in another community. Perhaps this .emerging pattern will have something important to say about the future of religious life itself, and about the kinds of communities that have a future. However, any such speculation seems very premature at this point. What is immediate is the process itself, and what it means for individuals and for their communities. A few workshops have been devoted to this process of transferring, and several articles have appeared describing some of its pains and joys. But, for the most part, what has been presented is the movement from one apostolic congregation to another. The present article wishes to focus on transfers from an apostolic community to a contemplative one, a process that relates not only to the transfer phenomenon but also to that growing concern for prayer, and 345 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 especially for contemplative prayer, which has been one of the most hearten-ing aspects of the contemporary renewal of religious life. Transferring from one apostolic congregation to another has its own dynamics, quite distinct from what is involved in making the transition into contemplative community life. Failure to appreciate this difference makes it more difficult for communities and for individuals to cooperate with the promise and to evaluate the phenomenon. At the same time there are elements common to any such transferring--questions, for example, of the danger in-herent in the change, the discernment of motivation, as well as the paschal grace of such uprooting and coming into new life. It is the purpose of this paper to present some of these aspects as they are experienced in unique ways by the "contemplative transfer." Dangers and Difficulties To begin with a warning is only appropriate when there is real danger and when the danger may not be immediately evident. Such seems to be the case in regard to transferring. The process of transfer can be dangerous and the danger remain somewhat hidden, since the holiness of the objective may obscure a faulty theology undergirding the process, some confusion about growth in prayer, along with some elements of escapism and/or mixed motivations. The consequences of transfer can be as serious as the loss of religious vocation for the individual and the disruption of peace for both communities involved. Faulty theology may present the contemplative, monastic community as a more "perfect" form of religious life, even downplaying the importance of apostolic involvement as "too worldly." Since any vocational choice can only be evaluated in terms of the person choosing, speaking of an objective "state of perfection" seems to miss the point. Just as religious life itself can be termed a more perfect state (even in the Vatican II terminology ofPerfectae Caritatis) without implying that it would be so for any particular individual, so too, could some such judgment be made about contemplative life. But what is "~ important for the individual to consider is what is better for himself, not what is "more perfect" in the abstract and the general. Moreover, a spiritual theology which rests on the assumption that "one must always do the more perfect" is doomed to run into danger on the rocks of human limitation. Such perfectionism threatens strain and excessive preoccupation with self, neither of which fosters a contemplative spirit. Even for those who are immune from such a false theology, there remains a possible confusion about development in prayer. Sometimes a call to contemplative prayer is translated into a call to monastic life--with conse-quent loss.for the whole Christian community. The transition from a form of prayer that is more active to one that is more passive is a difficult time for anyone. Thomas Dubay has called this the "crack" period in religious development, and it may be compared with the difficulties and crises that are Transfer to a Contemplative Community part of any of the transitions from one life-stage to another. Such critical times do not provide the stability that makes possible good life-choices. Growth into a more contemplative form of prayer is actually part of the development that can be considered "normal" for most persons who are serious about prayer. It says more about the munificence of God's gifts and his desire to be one with us, than about any need to change communities. The latter is a very different kind of call and consequently, one that needs to be discerned separately. Transferring to a contemplative monastery during a crisis time in prayer might mask a reluctance to face the difficulties of persevering in prayer during times of dryness. Individuals may imagine that once they are enclosed, distractions will disappear and consolations will return--in abundance. They will be quickly disabused of such hopes in the everyday of monastic living. Even the prospect of having ample time provided for prayer will prove to hold its own challenge. For "more time" can also mean "more demands": more awareness of distractions, more painful dryness. Add to this all the unsettle-ments that are bound to be part of such a radical adjustment as transferring and prayer may well prove to be even more difficult than before. Similarly, any secret desire to escape the challenges of renewal or to insulate oneself from painful community relationships will be tested in the closeness of contemplative community. Unfortunately, some religious seem to equate monastic religious life with the kind of structured life in community that prevailed before Vatican II. So the desire to transfer can spring from a search for a more compatible expression of apostolic religious life, rather than ~t'~a genuine contemplative vocation. In reality contemplative communities have been just as much affected by Vatican II renewal as have apostolic congrega-tions. Changes, for example, in the living out of enclosure have caused just as many painful tensions as have adaptations in apostolic involvement. Struc-tures have developed in both forms of religious life and will continue to do so. Renewal requires participation, not escape, no matter where one is called to live. Nor does a transfer necessarily ease the tensions of community relation-ships. On the contrary, living in the close, everyday proximity of enclosed community may only heighten such tensions. Spending all one's days with the very same people, in a restricted area and with a limited sphere of activity can never provide escape from the interpersonal. "Contempla(ive community" actually requires a well-developed capacity for sharing life with others, including a delicate balance between intimacy and a respect for solitude which enables one to live with others in a silence that communicates life. In a similar way, an authentic call to transfer is anything but an escape from apostolic involvement. On the contrary, what will be needed is a vibrant desire to be given to and for the sake of others, joined with a faith that is strong enough to translate this call into an everyday service that is not sustained by any immediately tangible results. So if a person is dissatisfied with the :348 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 results of his apostolic work, it would be foolish to try and escape into the even less satisfying life of faith that is the "labor" of the contemplative. And if anyone hopes to find a variety of stimulating options within the everyday tasks of contemplative community, he will be rapidly disillusioned. Even the more plausible motivation of resolving a conflict between prayer and activity can speak more of escapism than of genuine call. Vocation is not discerned negatively, but only through such positive signs as a genuine desire for a life of prayer (not just more time for prayer) and a belief that this self-gift will bear fruit in and for the Church. Such positive criteria for discern-ment will be presented in more detail in the following section of this paper. These, then, are a few of the hidden dangers rising from faulty theology, a confusion about growth in prayer, and tendencies to eseapism, which could prompt an individual to transfer for the wrong reasons. Still to be considered are some of the real dangers involved in the process itself both in terms of the individual and of the communities involved. When a person professes vows, the commitment is made to God, but it is made within the context of a particular community, and this communitarian aspect is not to be changed lightly. Though made by man and so changeable in itself, life in community embodies a call that is divine and eternal. In all its particularity, community gives a specific form to vocation. While not of the essence, still this form may be a very important, even necessary, condition for vocation to grow and flourish. Consequently, changing from one community to another risks undermining the stability of the individual's commitment. If the new community does not provide the hoped-for environment, return to the former one may prove to be impossible and so a vocation may be lost. Other risks inherent in transferring center around the extent of adjustment which will certainly be profound. "Culture shock" is almost inevitable. Even though the "natives" of the adopted community speak "English," still new values, different associations will make it difficult to discover the meaning of words and actions, of response, and of nonverbal communication. The result will be a feeling of lostness and confusion that cannot be met by something as simple as asking questions. For there are no words in which to phrase the ques-tions, no answers that make sense. There may even be an unnerving lack of awareness that something has been "misunderstood" until confusion has deepened into a cloud as indefinite and suffusing as fog: Similarly homesickness for one's community of origin can be even more profound than the feeling that accompanied one's first leaving home for the convent. For the home that is now being left has claimed more of one's adult life and so has called for a freer choice, a more committed response. To leave ~one's family for .the sake of forming new life-bonds is part of the naturalpro-cess of growth and development. But leaving the community of one's first choice for another is not so natural, and the consequences are often profound and disturbing. In the process a certain spirit of criticism can develop. This may even bea necessary part of discernment as one reevaluates call and response, one's own Transfer to a Contemplative Community / ~149 vocation and that of both communities involved. But such critical reflection can become a pattern of thinking that keeps one on the periphery, "watching" and judging way beyond the period when this stance is necessary. This spirit of uninvolved criticism chips away at commitment and makes participation in community impossible. Such are a few of the real dangers involved for individuals who are con-sidering transfer'ring. What are the risks for the communities? Loss of membership in the original community is one obvious area of concern--not just the obvious matter of a person leaving this community to join another. What may be far more painful is the kind of vocational questioning that can arise among other members of the parent community. Such reevaluation may be wholesome, if it leads to renewed discernment of and commitment to one's own vocational choice. But it can also be weakening if it simply adds to diminished morale, feelings of hopelessness and that sense of disillusionment that plagues so many during times of transition. Similarly, the community receiving the transfer can have its peace dis-turbed if the new member, already a formed religious, brings along an incom-patible spirituality together with an undocile mind and heart. Within the closeness of contemplative community, such lack of harmony can be pro-foundly disturbing to all, with consequent loss of service to the whole Church. Such are the dangers in~,olved, both for individuals and for communities. The difficulties are real; the cost is certainly not minimal. The basic question is, then: Is transferring worth theprice? Are the real risks offset by still greater advantages? Are there compensations for the dangers? Yes, if transferring ac-tualizes a more personalized call-response, leading to still deeper commit-ment. When such is the case, not only will the individual find fuller life in the Lord, but both communities involved will also be enriched; such is the unity of all members in the one Body of Christ. The whole question of transferring, then, seems to hinge on the validity of this new call-within-a-call. Theologically such development is possible since the only absolute fidelity in this special covenant relationship is found in a God "whose love is everlasting." The response of any individual can only par-ticipate in this love through an ongoing "creative fidelity" aimed at fashion-ing all life's choices in the light of an original baptismal commitment. The direction for such responsiveness will always be toward greater specificity, a more personal love. Though this ongoing response will be shaped within the context of a particular community, this form, while remaining important, is still only conditional. It may be changed, if this will serve to realize more closely one's first commitment t6 the Lord. Particularly, then, for our present purposes the issue revolves around discernment of an authentic call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative life. Discernment an Authentic Call to Transfer What might be some of the signs that one is being called to deepen one's ~i50 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 baptismal commitment by transferring religious profession from an apostolic congregation to a contemplative community? Here we shall suggest a few of the practical ways in which the traditional vocational criteria of desire, right motivation, and ability to live the life, are evidenced in the case of a proposed ttransfer. \ A long-term desire for contemplative life seems one of the clearest signs that someone should undertake the risks of making a transfer. In many cases, this desire was already present at the time the individual entered religious life but, for a variety of reasons, it was never actualized. Circumstances may simply have made it impossible; ignorance or poor advice may also have con-tributed. So the desire was put aside, perhaps completely forgotten. Profes-sion was made, and that commitment lived out wholeheartedly and with joy. But years later the desire for contemplative life reappears. Sometimes it is recognized as a familiar part of one's past; sometimes it comes as a new and surprising idea with recognition only following later. In either case, such con-tinuity with the past provides a sense of direction in the unfolding of one's per-sonal salvational history. Even when.the desire for contemplative life is not remembered or recogniz-ed as part of one's past, at some point in the present the emergence of this desire becomes so strong that it can no longer be ignored. When first en-countered consciously, the desire is more often a matter of wanting to live out contemplative values rather than a careful comparison/choice of active-i verSus-comtemplative community. A whole life devoted to prayer, supported and challenged by a community of other "pray-ers," by solitude and silence, combined with a very simple, even austere style of life: these are some of the values that become increasingly important. As desire for them grows, so, too, does the longing for a way of living them out more fully and completely. At first this may be met by providing more time for prayer, arranging to live in a prayer-centered local community or one which is experimenting with a simpler way of living. For some, such restructuring of life-style is the answer; for others this is not enough, and the desire continues to grow. A period in a House of Prayer may be another option and, once again, this may provide the right balance of prayer and active apostolate for certain individuals. For others, the quest must continue simply because the desire for a purely con-templative life continues, increases, and must ultimately be met in life. This longing for a way to live out contemplative values may lead one final-ly to a moment of realization and choice. Apostolic religious life can no longer ~provide the support, stimulation, structure for the kind of contemplative life to which the religious feels called. And at this point, transferring becomes a matter of vocational decision. Such recognition is eminently paschal, filled as it is with the painful realization that one must leave behind his "homeland" and "pass over" a desert of unknowns. Yet there is also joy, an anticipation that what lies ahead promises more life, deeper peace. Even the pain of leaving the congregation of one's first profession is somewhat tempered by the realization that unless he Transfer to a Contemplative Community had given of himself there, had truly identified, there would be no loss now. Nor would there be much hope of future success. This experience of having been fully part of one's original congregation, of having found peace and joy in community there, is almost a presupposition of any authentic call to transfer. Someone who has not been happy originally probably will not find any more satisfaction in contemplative life. On the other hand, an individual who has known what it means to give himself to community and in community may come to realize that another successful identification is possible, even though it will be made with some pain. This returns us to the whole complex question of motivation. Why should an individual who has already made profession consider transferring his com-mitment to a contemplative community? In the preceding section we examined a whole series of false motivations, including poorly founded theological prin-ciples, escapism, and an inadequate understanding of contemplative life. These need to be confronted, not in the safety of abstraction, but in the reality of one's own life-experience, and with the realistic help of others who know the individual and both forms of religious life. Of even greater importance is the discerning of positive motivation, since a mere lack of obstacles does not give clear indication that a person ought to go ahead in a certain new life direc-tion. Vocation is positive call, not just an absence of negative criteria. To ask the "why" of one's motivation is important and fruitful but only so long as one keeps in mind that the "answer" cannot be found by adding up worttiy reasons, for, in the last analysis, human motivation remains mystery. It can never be known in its totality, with certainty. The reasons we give are, at best, approximations, and the final answer to the "why" is found only in the living out of the decision. Having recognized that a list of reasons never adds up to certitude, still it can be an indicator that an individual should risk the time and energy of a fur-ther discernment in actual life. Very often the "why" of a transfer can only be phrased in an unsatisfying "because, somehow, I can do nothing else." Such an experience of almost necessity, of inability to do anything else with one's life until this pressing question has been answered, may be an uncomfortable, but true indicator of basic motivation. Such necessity, though, is not a matter of compulsiveness, but rather of a freedom that grows, once the internal logic of choice has been admitted and acted upon. A person may come to discover that his whole movement of life has been in the direction of contemplative vocation, though the surface geography of his activities has been quite different. These very differences may even have been unconscious protest. Such, for example, is the case of an individual who has been a strong advocate of apostolic spirituality, of social involvement, of variety in ministries. All the while, what the person has been seeking on the deepest level, is a way of giving himself completely to the Lord. All the above are real ways; all have been tried. But all still leave something "wanting." "How can I be more giving?" becomes less of a question to be considered. Now it demands an answer that must be made in life. ~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 Traditionally, someone entering the monastery is asked, "What do you seek?" If the first answer, not just in liturgy, but in life is "The Lord," then there is good hope that what is being sought will be found. This is not to say that the person considering transfer has not already "found the Lord." But, like the good Christian who considers religious life just because of his previous discovery of the Lord, so too the individual who seriously considers transfer should only be desirous of greater union, a kind of intimacy that, for this par-ticular individual, seems more realizable in contemplative community. Put in still more concrete terms, someone who is already a religious may apply for a transfer because he experiences a desire to give prayer an absolute priority of time, energy, life-focus. In apostolic religious life, consideration of the needs of others, and of one's response to these needs, must always be cen-tral to discernment; this seems to be the meaning of apostolic spirituality. In monastic life, however, the central concern is the totality of life of prayer, and it is this dedication to prayer which becomes one's service to others. Consequently, the desire to give oneself to others through total dedication in prayer is central to any discernment of contemplative vocation, and this becomes even more critical when there is a question of transfer. This is because the person desirous of transfer has already internalized a spirituality of active, direct service, and his transition to a quite different orientation may not come easily or quickly, But unless an individual can come to see silence, solitude, simple manual work, austerity of life-style as contributing to a life of abiding prayer, and further, believe that personal prayer, lectio and liturgy are one's own call to building up the Body of Christ, then contemplative, monastic life will seem empty and fruitless. Moreover, such belief cannot re-main an intellectual assent, nor even an abstract faith-value; it must become personal conviction and motivation for life. Ultimately, then, desire and motivation are just the beginnings of discern-tment for a contemplative vocation. Only by living the life can the presence or absence of God's enabling grace be discovered. So let us conclude by sug-gesting some of the areas which will be particularly relevant in the life-testing of a call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative religious life. Will the potential transfer-person be able to go beyond the initial obstacles of radical adjustment with all its attendant anxiety, of separation from the original community which has provided so much of his identity and emotional support? Put in more positive terms, will the person, first of all, "survive" the transfer? For some, the culture shock, already alluded to, is so severe that there is consequent loss of health or debilitating emotional disturbance. And this, not just in the first crisis of adjustment, where it might well be expected, but increasingly as time goes on. When this happens, life experience leads to a negative discernment. On the contrary, when the Spirit is truly inspiring a person to make the transfer, then, despite the pain, growth will occur. Radical adjustment, separation anxiety, culture shock will all be in the service of conversion. The Transfer to a Contemplative Community / 353 individual will grow and grow in contemplative ways. A new identity will begin to emerge when the more familiar response of teacher, nurse, "member of." are no longer applicable. There will be a new appreciation for one's unique giftedness as person, simply because one is and one exists as a special expression of the Father's creative love. Growth will also occur through positive identification with the new com-munity. Ac.ceptance takes time but gradually new relationships will be formed, an individual will fit in, and his suitability for the life will be confirmed by the response of the community. What begins in strangeness will end in familiarity. For example, enclosure will no longer be a matter of adjustment, perhaps of difficulty, but will evolve into a simple means of ensuring the kind of solitude necessary for prayer. Prayer, in its turn, will grow and deepen. The regular praying of the Liturgy of the Hours in choir will no longer be unfamiliar ritual, nor frequent "interruption," but regular nourishment and opportunity for praise. The simplicity of the life, far from being monotonous, will lead to peace, making possible a "richness" of response that can only be sustained within a somewhat austere life-style. All of this, however, takes time. It requires effort on the part of the one who transfers; it requires also acceptance and assistance on the part of the community. Above all, it requires the empowering grace of God's call. When all of these are present, and when the passing of months and even years has allowed for a new identity to be formed, then the transferred person will final-ly come to recognize himself as a contemplative, a member of his new com-munity. The past will merge into this new present and integration will occur. For example, former skills and talents will find new expressions or will be sacrificed, "counted as nothing," in view of something still more worthwhile. Painful parts of the past will be healed; grateful remembering will allow all that has been to be incorporated into the present and open the way to the future. In short, adjustment will make way for gradual growth, and this growth will be in the direction of incorporation into the new community. When this occurs, the transfer will have been accomplished, and a new identification will have been made. The individual, as well as both communities, will be enriched, because, whenever life is lived more fully, the w.hole Body of Christ is vitalized. Let me conclude with a comparison. Among the old Irish monks, the grace of martyrdom was described in three ways: the "red" martyrdom of shedding one's blood, the "white" martyrdom of desire to give One's life for the sake of the gospel, and finally, the "green" martyrdom of exile, of pilgrimage and ac-cepted separation for the sake of new life in Christ. The transferred person may well find the grace of this unique vocation expressed in the hope-filled "green" of separation from what is familiar, good, loved, for the sake of greater union-- in contemplative community. The Right to Solitude Roman Ginn, O.C.S.O. Father Ginn, a monk of Gethsemani Monastery in Kentucky, has been living as a hermit in Latin America for the past fourteen years. His last article, "The Ladder of Prayer," appeared in the January, 1980 issue. Father Ginn's marling address is: Apartado 44; Huajuapan de Leon; Oaxaca, Mexico. The renewed interest in hermitical life during the last three decades should not be viewed with alarm but as a rediscovery of one of the first and most traditional forms of contemplative life. This rediscovery is taking place at a time when men are becoming more aware of their essential needs and rights. Speaking in the Music Council assembled by UNESCO, the violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, declared some twenty years ago that silence is one of man's princi-pal needs and concluded: "I hope that the right to silence will be recognized as being as important as the right to pure water and air." But the same claim should be extended to solitude. For if man is a social being who cannot develop as a person in perpetual solitude, in a very true sense he is also an un-social being who experiences the impersonality and artificiality unavoidable in relations with others (excepting perhaps with those who form his intimate cir-cle) as a kind of violence. The person's relation with society is problematic and neither his need for communication nor for solitude can be left unsatisfied without damage. But how can solitude be called aoneed and a right? Neither primitive peoples nor children feel any such need. But this is because they do not see it as a positive value but as isolation. Even the ea,rly Hebrews missed its positive side. They regarded solitude as an evil, a co~nsequence of sin, and promised God's special protection to those .moist exposed to it: the poor, widows, strangers and orphans. The Greeks however attained a positNe view of it. The hero of the Greek tragedies lives in a solitude that is both a condemnation and 354 ~ The Right to Solitude / :355 a privilege. Sophocles, for example, presents Oepidus as passing from a period of painful isolation into a new form of solitude that has something divine about it. But even if the Hebrews never escaped from a negative concept of solitude, they discovered the key to its understanding as a positive reality. For they gradually realized that each must 'learn to separate from the collectivity and face God and his will as an individual as well'as a member of society. They also saw that God could call some individuals to positions of confrontation with society which would force them to live in isolation. But they never managed to transform this isolation into a privileged situation and a means of closer union with God. So, without grasping the value of their discovery, they passed on the secret that man's development as a person is somehow connected with his ability to temporally break his ties to society in order to take possession of himself as a unique reality, an individual and responsible I. They present Jeremiah, for example, living through an isolation he deplores without know-ing how it is slowly transforming him from a timid, village youth into God's iron, ~ The oriental religions appreciated solitude as something positive long before the coming of Christ. Early Buddhist texts are full of its praise as a means of spiritual development. Even though Buddha himself later prescribed communal life for his followers, he never lost his esteem for solitude. In a statement preserved by the Itivattka, for example, he says: "O monks, have your dwelling and delights in solitude. Rejoice in solitude, dedicated to mental calmness in the depths of your selves, without forgetting to meditate, penetrated .with intuition; seek your dwelling in desert spots." The Udana records the story of the monk Bhaddiya who lived in a mango forest. Passersby had often heard him repeating over and over: "What happiness!" When they told Buddha about him, he called the monk and asked for an ex-planation. Bhaddiya replied: ¯ Sir, before, when i was a layman and enjoyed royal power as the father of a family, I had guards distributed both inside and outside my palace . And in spite of the fact that I was protected and safeguarded in such a way, I lived tormented by fear, restless, suspicious, frightened. Now, sir, wherever I find myself in the woods, under a tree or in a solitary spot, even though I am alone, I live without fear, tranquil, trustful, without trepidation, unworried, in peace, with whatever others give me, with my mind as free as a forest animal. This is why I repeat: "What happiness, what happiness." The poetic sections of the Buddhist canon love to use images of forest animals to describe the advantages of the solitary life. "Like a lion that over-comes everything, that wanders victorious as king of the forest, visiting its most distant corners and unfrightened by rumors." The solitary individual is likewise compared to the elephant and rhinoceros. The localities chosen by the first followers of Buddha as most apt for the pursuit of their end are another indication of the positive value they saw in solitude: mountains, forests, caves and cemeteries. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 When Christian monasticism appeared in the mid-third century, it manifested a similar love for solitude, inspired of course by Jesus' example (See Mr. 4). Like their Oriental brothers, the Christian monks regarded it as the mother of the spiritual life. Cassian felt that normally the more solitude a monk had, the greater was his perfection.He put his third conference on the lips of Abbot Paphnutius, who lived in such inaccessible places that even other hermits "only with great difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now and then." Such a man was fittingly surnamed the Buffalo. But the fact that most of the praises of solitude in the early Church originated with monks (or ex-monks like St. John Chrysostom) does not mean it was something that concerned them alone. If they exploited it more than others, it was only because in general they took Christian life more seriously, and experienced the positive role of solitude in its development. Their appraisal has been confirmed by modern philosophers. Kierkegaard among Christian, and Nietzsche among non-Christian thinkers strongly stress the importance of solitude for personal development, If they exaggerate, this is only a perhaps necessary reaction to modern society's fear and devaluation of solitude. Nietzsche makes it the supreme value, one indispensable for the growth of all others. For a Christian it can only be a means, even though one - greatly neglected today. As the Greeks saw and the Hebrews sensed without clearly understanding, solitude reveals man's deepest self to him making it possible for him to become aware of his interior resources and discover meaning in his life. Because of its value in helping the individual pass from the suggestion of the collectivity to the liberty of maturity, it is a basic human right that must be carefully p~eserved. For the Christian it is also the entrance into that most sacred and secret .region of the person--his interiority--where union with God takes place. As St. Augustine loves to repeat, God is in the most intimate part of us. He is more truly within us than we are. Even after one has experienced enough solitude to develop into a mature person, periods of it will continue to be necessary, during which one's self-possession may be renewed. Otherwise a gradual self-alienation can set in that will prevent the individual from entering into deep and lasting communion with others and will allow him or her to sink into the negative solitude of isola-tion. Positive and voluntary solitude is a good way to prevent negative solitude. Such periods of solitude should not be used to sleep or simply rest in, but to feel out one's roots actively and become more one's true self before God. Only by doing this will the individual again become fit for fruitful rela-tions with others. There is al~;ays a danger however that we will turn solitude into an ab-solute, and be tempted to stay there. This would not be right, for God calls very few to follow in Abbot Paphnutius' footsteps. Too many buffalos would upset the Church's spiritual ecology. The ideal in most Christian lives will always be a happy balance betw~ei~ solitude and s6ciety, as Jesus himself lived The Right to Solitude / 357' it. To stay longer in solitude than God wills can lead to spiritual sterility. But after all the danger of overstaying one's time in solitude is not great. For, as many who have attempted hermitical life during the last thirty years have discovered, if the solitude is real, it will become unbearable for someone who does not belong there. As one of the Desert Fathers remarked: "The desert vomits out those whom God has not called into it." Covenanl The Father knocks at my door seeking a home for his son: Rent is cheap, 1 say. I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God. I'm not sure 1 want to sell, but you might come in to look around. 1 think 1 will, says God. I might let you have a room or two. 1 like it, says God. 1'11 take the two. You might decide to give me more some day. 1 can wait, says God. I'd like to give you more, but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me. I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what 1 see. Hm, maybe 1 can let you have another room. 1 really don't need that much. Thanks, says God. 1'11 take it. I like what 1 see. I'd like to give you the whole house but I'm not sure-- Think on it~ says' God. 1 wouldn't put you out. Your house would be mine and my son would live in it. You'd have more space than you'd ever had before. 1 don't understand at all. I know, says God, but 1 can't tell you about that. You'll have to discover it for yourself. That can only happen if you let him have the whole house. A bit risky, 1 say. Yes, says God, but try me. I'm not sure-- 1'11 let you know. I can wait, says God. 1 like what I see. Margaret Halaska, osf On Being a Superior Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Father Meenan resides in the Jesuit community of 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Though it may seem strange, .I would like to begin a treatment of the role of the superior by reflecting for a bit on the phrase we so often use, "Thy will be done." When prayed, as in the Our Father, does it make any sense at all, when you think about it? Is there, for instance, some ,super-God" to whom the prayer is addressed, asking that he take care of God so that he makes sure that God's will gets done? Or maybe God doesn't know what his will is, so we pray, "Hope you find out." Perhaps God is in a struggle, so that our prayer is equivalently, "Hope you win!" In other words, this phrase doesn't make much sense--if you just take it at its face value. But I think that the phrase does begin to make sense when ! begin to realize that, in using those words in prayer, I've taken a stand. Whether I join my will to his in prayer or not, his will is simply going to be done. What I am saying when I use those words is, "I want his will to be done. I 'want in' on the whole process. I want to be involved." And so there is a commitment of myself to the project when I say, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." Then the prayer begins to make sense because it takes me from the luxury of being a bystander and puts me right in the middle of things. It begins to make me hungry that his will be done. And then, in truth, it becomes the prayer of my heart. Then it becomes a real prayer--and a fruitful starting point for a reflection on the role of being superior. The problem is that the words come too easily. The problem is that I have grown up with the words, and I lose track of them, of what they say. The problem is that I have said them too often. I fiave gotten used to them. And so they lose the force they should have: that there is a great project afoot, and I want to be involved in it. And this, basically, is what this article on the role of 358 On Being a Superior / 359 / the superior is going to be about: God's will for the person who is superior in t the exercise of the office of being superior. For purposes of this article, I don't care about the sociology of leadership. I don't care about the psychological dimensions of community. And I certainly don't care about the canonical details of implementing the office. What I do care about is the~spiritual a___.__~sp.e__~c_t 9 fob_ei_.o.ng s__~up.e~r_ior, of getting a feel for the role of being a superior. I care about the conviction that one has in exercising the office of superior. Conviction is going to involve feeling, precisely because one's whole person is involved in the truth of what he is saying when he speaks or acts from conviction. What I would hope to evoke in the course of this article is a conviction, a felt truth, that locates the person, invests the person, identifies the person in what he knows. To this end, I would invite the person who is superior to share with me, through these pages, in a meditation. I.f we are going to make a meditation together, we ought to have a "com-position of place." For this, I have chosen Peter at the lakeside, after the Resurrection, when, according to John's gospel, Christ said to Peter, "Feed my sheep'." Just before this, he had asked Peter, "Do you love me more than these?" Isn't it a shame how cheap we have made the word "love" today? What does it mean to say, "I love you more than these"? The question is important because what is at issue is the building of a life on the love of God. But how do we know if we do love God? Is our confidence in our love go-ing to come out of our feelings? Well, for most of us, God isn't "real" enough for us to have very strong feelings about--except rarely. And probably in those moments, often enough, the individual is deluded. In point of fact, most of the days of my life, I don't feel love for God. How do I know, then, if I love him enough to be able to build a life on love? t/~ I f I love, I will do the work of love. I f love is there, the fruit of love will be there. If I am concerned about the things of the Lord, about him and his kingdom and his service and his glory, then I know I love. I don't care what I feel. I know I love, because the fruits of love are there. Even here, though, the issue is not all that clear, simply because I can also fake the fruits of love. I can ape them. I can do great and good things, noble and glorious things--without love. I can do them just because I am ambitious, or because I hate to leave things untidy and have a neurotic concern for neatness, or because I want to be noticed, or because I have career preferences, or because I have a developed sense of responsibility, or because the easiest way to be invisible is to be merely and conventionally competent since, if there are no problems in my sector, nobody is going to stick his nose into it--and that is what I want t'o be, invisible. What is done for any of these reasons does, I suppose, represent the "works of love," but these works stem out of my love for myself in one fashion or another, not out of my love for God. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 In determining the presence or absence of the love of God, then, it is clear that the intention is going to be very important--not the expressed intention, but the real intention. And the real intention is in the heart and soul, lying under the words I use to express it. The grace of our meditation will be the grace not to be deaf to God's call, but prompt and diligent to do his most holy will. If being superior is a chore, a task for an individual, then that individual is going to fail. If it is not a work of love, then at best he will be merely a good administrator. At best, he will make the canonists happy. But if being a superior is a response to God's call, if there is an eagerness to be prompt and diligent to do his will, then the person will not be the performer of mere tasks: he will be a superior. 'From what has just been written, it is clear that I am convinced that being ¯ superior is a very definable, concrete, explicit vocation from Almighty God to a particular individual. In terms of this call, God says to those whom he sum-mons in this fashion, "Feed my sheep," which is the core reality of the voca-tion of being a superior. You see, being a superior is a vocation, a call from God. It is much more concrete than one's'~all to enter a congregation. It is more clearly defined than one's professional competence. In the present circumstance of the Church, superiors have a definite term: a beginning, a measurable beginning, middle, and end to this concrete call that they have. Their call includes definite areas of responsibility, rather more clear than in the usual run of job descriptions. The superior has a definite flock to be fed. Being a superior, then, is easily discernible. Is it really a call? We religious have a way of using all sorts of pious vocabulary with a great deal of conviction--so long as we are talking about somebody else. We have all attended at one time or another the circumstances of somebody else's tragedy, when it's easy for us to see that tragedy so clearly in terms of God's providence for them and for the victim. But when it comes to ourselves, somehow we find that our faith is rather more brittle. Too often for us religious, it is very easy to isolate "God's providence" into some abstract awareness of God as "Lord of History" because, for example, of what .he did to Israel, what he's done to the Church, what he's doing in the history of the world at the present time. Is God, though, Lord of your life? If he is Lord of yliofue,r then how can you explain the meaning of being superior, if not in terms of his Lordship? Is God faithful and loving? Because, if he is, how are you going to explain being superior save in terms of his faithful, loving exercise of Lordship in your regard? We can see how it gets to be a bit more difficult to be quite so confident of the "providence of God" when it begins to reach closer to home. It is much easier to see him as Lord of others than as Lord of myself. Does God care for the congregation? If he doesn't care for the congrega-tion, then he couldn't care less who was superior. If he does care for the con-d gregation, then he must care very much about who is superior--though this On Being a Superior does not mean at all that he has chosen the best possible person. It doesn't mean that he has chosen the most competent person. It doesn't even mean that he has chosen an able person. It just means that he has chosen a person. He has exer-cised a definite, deliberate choice in wanting you to be a superior of his com-munity for which he cares very much, in regard to which he says toyou, "Feed my sheep." It is time now to return to the reflection with which we begari regarding our earnestness for God's will. How earnest are we for God's will? Not out there, ~not in the future, but here and now. The,fact is that either God is not God at all, or he has call~ed you to b____~e a superior. If he has called you, he has expressed his will. You can choose to ignore it if you--want, but you cannot intelligently deny this fact without denying that God is God. b\ Being a superior is a vocation to do what? To feed his sheep in all the ways that make sense. His.sheep are workers in his vineyard, and the superior's feeding of his sheep is going to include nurturing their capacity to work in his vineyard--to be apostles. His sheep are your sisters or brothers in Christ. These are not vague groups of girls or boys that walk in the front door of an institution. These are your sisters or brothers in Christ, persons who have a call to the community that you say you love. These are the sheep that he has entrusted to you to be nourished by you. If all of this is true, then the only adequate approach to exercising the i office of superior is going to be as an act of religion. The alternative is to ex-clude God from your individual salvation history, the salvation history of your congregation, and the salvation history of the Church and world today. Therefore it follows that the key which unlocks the whole mystery of being a ~ superior is going to be found in the area of acts of religion--which is the same area that includes the taking of your vows in the first place. This is the same area, too, that envelops your whole prayer life. This is in the same area as your whole living for God. If this is true, then the individual is going to want to be a superior after the mind and thought and heart of Christ. His mode of being a superior is going to be the expression of his r~ligious involvement in God's will--or it is nothing. In seeking to make this act of religion real, the superior will make use of many aids to help him. But it is the act of religion that is going to give life to the whole process. So the superior will make use of whatever he can learn from management theory, from the psychology of the human person, from the sociology of community. He will make use of all these because they are tools given into his hands, tools that make it possible for him the better to enflesh into reality the act of religion that is his response to God's call. But if this religious response is not effectively there, if the soul of the pro-cess isn'~ present, all that's left is'a corpse. And no psychologist is ever going to make a corpse come alive. If all a superior does is to oversee the production of a corpse, then he would be better off seeking a position on a middle- 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 management level of some large corporation and make cars for the rest of his life. At least it would be a safer way of wasting his life; and he would only be touching others merely in their jobs. We religious like to talk a great deal about zeal. If you are serious about zeal, then you have to see in this call from God to be a superior a concrete way of enfleshing your zeal. Otherwise, you are going to be lost in a dreamland, phantasying about future generations of yet unborn souls whom you will "save" some time or other, some place or other. If you were serious about zeal, then you would be very much taken with God's will. If you were serious about his will, and thought that he was calling you, then your zeal would be a hunger to respond to his call, and he has called you to be a superior. In saying to you as superior, "Feed my sheep," he wants you to take unto yourself his sheep, those very special ones whom he has called in a very special way, and who, therefore, need a very special kind of nurtur- ~inagn,d he has sayiodu, You feed themsey sthheeapt, swo hat I have sown in their hearts may come alive." What we commonly see today is a great deal of reluctance on the part of } persons who are unwilling to become superiors for a variety of reasons. ~ From the beglnmng of time, but especially ~n the present age, a man would be out of his mind to want to be a superior. In fact, to want to be a superior is usually a guarantee of failure: not necessarily administrative failure, the failur--"~f-s~perficial effectiveness, but the substantive failure of one who, though called to be of and for Christ's kingdom, may live in exterior darkness, all the while doing great things with brick and mortar--and quite possibly destroying souls for the sake of his mere brick and mortar. So there is fear in the face of taking on such an office, and it is common today. Ther_e ar~t least tw_o~.possible_sources.of_this._~fear. One of them is healthy, eminently healthy, and the other is unhealthy. The healthy fear, I think, comes out of vision. The person who has this healthy fear, for instance, would usually have a fairly clear idea of what the founder wanted in starting the congregation. He has a pretty good idea of the value of a soul, and therefore also has a pretty good idea of the preciousness of each of those special souls called by God to religious life, and whom the superior is supposed to nurture in this vocation. In terms of such a vision, the person would have a very clear and distinct notion of the goal--not of the practicalities, but of priorities and purposes. A person with this kind of vision also recognizes that the vision is of God. And a person with that kind of clarity must see himself as unworthy. So he says, "No, not I. I can't do this." Now there are two t~ings that are healthy about that fear. One is that this sense of unworthiness comes out of self-knowledge of a sort that would arise ~when a person looks at himself against the background of such a vision. With this self-knowledge, in looking at the job, at what the call is, he is aware of his very real impotence; he has a sense of his utter helplessness. The other healthy aspect of such a fear flows precisely from this On Being a Superior / 3{}3 awareness: it is that the individual has a clear and distinct sense of one's need for God in responding to such a vocation. He cannot fulfill such a call, and therefore he would need God. Beingaware of his unworthiness, he has a very healthy desire not to be a superior--until it becomes clear that this call is truly from God. Then, retaining his sense of unworthiness, knowing that God chooses weak things of this world to achieve his purpose, the individual ac-cepts God's call and, in his need, turns to God. Such an individual truly has the spirit_of.a_superior's vocation. . Th~nheal~ the, but more common fear that has become particularly fre-quent" "--~---'---"-'-'during our time in religious life stems, for whatever reason, from a loss of vision, or, alas, from the fact that the individual never had a vision in the first place. When such a person is confronted with the job-requirements, he is often faced with something that is, for him, vague, blurred, unmanageable. He often asks, "What does obedience mean now? What do any of the vows mean now? What does the apostolate mean now? What does the vision of the congregation mean now?" And on, and on, and on. His fear is as blurred as is his sense of vocation itself. Without a vision, such a prospect for the office of superior does not look out to God's vineyard, but into the interior of the community. All he sees when he looks around is conflict, antagonism, varieties of resistance, burdens and crosses--and he wants no part of that kind of crucifixion. So, for his own security and comfort, he is afraid to be a superior. And that kind of fear, if the job is thrust upon him regardless, leads to paralysis, a paralysis that can find a variety of ways of expression. He can be .the do-nothing, the absolutely do-nothing type, who keeps his hands totally off everything except the signing of checks once a month--and this only if the treasurer has succeeded in making an appointment. Or he becomes the type who is only an~administrator. He becomes only the outside contact-person working with benefactors. He becomes only the friend of t

Issue 14.3 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1955 Empress of America . c.J. McNaspy The Relicjious Life . Pope Plus Throucjh His Blood . Joseph H. Roh~i.g Community Life . Bernard I. Mullahy Third Mode of Humility. ¯ . . c. A. Heri~st Mary and Joseph Find Jesus . " . . Paul Oent Book Reviews Questions and Answers Summer Schools VOLUME XlV NO. 3 RI Vli::W FOR Ri::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIV MAY, 1955 NUMBER 3 CONTENTS EMPRESS OF AMERICA---C. J. McNaspy, S.J .113 SURSUM CORDA . 122 POPE PIUS XII AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFF_;--doseph F. Gallen, S.d1.23 THROUGH HIS BLOOD~doseph H. Rohling, C.PP.S . 139 COMMUNITY LIFE--Bernard I. Mullahy, C.S.C . 141 TI-IE. THIRD MODE OF HUMILITY---C. A. Herbst, S.3 .1.50 MARY AND dOSEPH FIND dESUS--Paul Dent, S.d .155 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausman~, S.3. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 157 SOME BOOKLETS . 164 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- ll. Dismissal of Novice without Giving Reason .165 12. Novitiate Extended until Regular Profession Ceremonies 165 13. Mental Patients with Temporary Vows . 166 14. Changing Constitutions in regard to Mail . 166 15. Handbook for Sacristans . 167 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 167 SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS . 168 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1955. Vol. XIV, No. 3. Published bi- " monthly: ,January, March, May; 3uly~ September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G.Ellard, S.,J., Adam C. Ellis, S.,J., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Francis N. Korth, S.,J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.3. Copyright, 1955, by Adam C. Ellis, S.d. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inslde back cover. Empress ot: America INTRODUCTION o F the world's favorite Marian shrines it may seem surprising that the oldest is on our own continent. Three centuries before the apparitions at Lourdes, our Lady appeared in America and left her miraculous image in Guadalupe, then a suburb, now part of Mexico City. Every year many Americans join their fellow Catholics of the South in paying homage to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Again and again the Holy Father has joined them in spirit, and ten years ago he proclaimed Our Lady of Guadalupe patroness of America, with the title of "Empress." The outline of the history is familiar to all religious. But not all may realize bow completely reliable and authentic are.our sources, Bishop Schlarman's Mexico Land o# Volcanoes indicates a number of scientific historians who have studied the question. Principal among them are Fathers Bravo Ugarte and Cuevas. In the following pages we present a close English translation of a document that goes back to the very period of the miracle and is accepted as historical. It was written by an Indian, Antonio Valer-iano, a relative of the Aztec Emperor Montezuma. Valeriano com-posed his text in his own language, some ten years after the event (December 12, 1531). It was translated recently into Spanish by Primo Veliano Velazquez, and this translation was made from the Spanish. A word about the style. The original, we are told, is written in the very formal style of the period: the Spanish translator has kept this blend of formality and naivet~. The present translator has tried to preserve some of the charm and simplicity, together with what to us might seem artificiality. But his main effort has been to give a faithful version of the document, even to the point of literalness.--C. J. McNAspY, S.J. ANTHONY'S STORY Herein is told how the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God, our Queen, most marvelously appeared not long ago in Tepeyac, which is called Guadalupe. First she allowed herself to be seen by a poor Indian whose name was Juan Diego; then her precious image was made manifest before the new bishop, Fray Juan de Zumarr~ga; and then came all the miracles which she has accomplished. 113 EMPRESS OF AMERICA Reoiew [or Religious Te'n years after the capture of the City of Mexico, when war ceased and there was p~ace among the peoples, there began to blos-son the faith and knowledge of the true God by whom we live. In those days, in the year 1531, early in the mon.th of December, it b'appened that tber~ lived a poor Indian, by name Juan Diego, arid as it is related, a native of Cuautitlan, which in m~tt~rs spiritual then belonged to Tlatilolco. Very early on the morning of Sal~ur-day, Juan Diego was coming by in order that be might pay wbrsbip to God 'and perform some errands. He arrived at the hill called Tepeyacac when it was dawn. He heard a singing above the hill, a~ singing which seemed the song.of various precious birds, although at times, when the voices of the singers were silent, it seemed "that the mountain answered them. Their song was very gentle and de-" ligbt,ful, surpassing that of the Coyoltototl and the Tzinizcan and the other beautiful birds that sing. Juan Diego stopped to look and said within himself, Can it be that I am worthy of what I am hearirig? It may be I am dreaming. Did I arise from sleep? Where am I? Am I, perhaps, in the earthly paradise that the ancients, our ancestors, spoke of? Or it may be I am in heaven. 'But as be turned his bead toward the east, above the hill, whence the precious heav-enly song was proceeding, it suddenly ceased; and there was silence; and he l~eard himself called from above the hill, "duanito, duan Dieguito." So he m~de bold to go whither he was called, nor was he fright-ened for a moment; but, on the contrary, happily he climbed the bill to see whence .he was being summoned: and, arriving at the summit, he saw a lady standing there and telling him to come closer. Now wb~n he came inl~o her presence he marveled mU'db bet more than human glory, for her clothes did shine like 'the sun, and the rock on which she stood was struck with splendor and ap-pear. ed like a bracelet of precious stones, and the earth shone like a rainbow. The mezquites, nopals, and other different bushes that are usually there seemed like emeralds, their leaves like fine tur-quoises, and their branches and thorns did shine like gold. Juan bowed down before her and beard bet word, very gentle and polite, as. that of one who is. very attractive and much esteemed. She said to him, "Juanito, thou smallest of my sons, .where art thou going?" He replied, "Lady and my Child,.I .must g9 to thy house of Tlati-lolco to attend to divine matters that our.priests, the delegates of our Lord, give and teach us." Then she spoke to him and told him her holy will~ saying, "Know thou and understand, thou "the least ll~t May, 1955 " EMPRESS OF AMERICA of my sons, that I am the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of the true God, by whom we live; of the Creator by whom all things have their 'being; of the Lord of heaven and of earth. Know thou that it is my strong wish that a church be built here for me, in order that I may manifest and bestow all my love, compassion, aid, and protection; for I am thy loving mother, thine, and .mother of all them that dwell in this land and of those others who love me, call upon me, and trust in me. For it is my will to listen to their cries, grief, and sorrows. Wherefore, in order that I may accomplish this my wish, thou shalt go to the palace of the Bishop of Mexico and relate to him that I send thee to manifest to him this strongest de-sire of mine, that he should build a church for me here; and thou shalt relate to him exactly all that thou hast .seen and admired, and that thou hast heard. And know thou that I will be grateful to thee and will repay.thee, for I will make thee happy and thou wilt deserve much that I should reward the work and trouble by which thou wilt obtain what I ask of thee. Take care that thou hearken to my command, my smallest son. Go and strive with all thy might that thou brin~' it about." He then did reverence before her and said, "My Lady, I go now to fulfill thy command; I leave thee for the present, I thy humble servant." Then he went dowh tO do her command, and he went by the road that leads straight to Mexico. Entering the City, he came straightway to the palace of the Bishop, who was the prelate ~hat had newly arrived and who was called Fray Juan de Zumarraga, being a religious of St. Francis. Scarcely had Juan Diego arrived, when he tried to see the Bishop, asking the servants to go and announce him; who after a good while came to call him, for their Lord Bishop had given order that he should enter. And when he had entered, he bowed and genuflected before the Bishop; immediately he gave him the message of the Lady of Heaven, relating.to him all he had admired, seen, and heard. The Bishop, after he had heard all his words and message, seemed not to believe him, for he ar~swered him thus, "Thou wilt come again, my son, and I shall hear thee more slowly, and I shrill con-sider all from the very beginning and shall ponder the desire and wish with which thou hast come." So Juan went out and grew sad, fbr his message had not been in any way accomplished. Now, on the same day, as Juan returned to the summit of the hill, he came upon the Lady of Heaven, who was awaiting him in the very place where he had seen her the first time. Seeing her, he 115 EMPRESS OF: AMERICA Reoiew for Religious prostrated before her and said, "Lady, thou the smallest of my daughters and my child, I went where thou didst send me to carry out thy cofnmand; with difficulty I entered where the Bishop dwelt; I saw him and presented thy message as thou didst tell me. Sure enough, he received me kindly and listened to me attentively; yet, from what he replied, it appeared to me that be did not believe me. He said, 'Thou wilt come again. I shall listen to thee more slowly. I shall examine from the very beginning the desire and wish with which thou hast come.' I understood perfectly by his manner of answering me that he thinks that it may be I made up myself the story that thou dost wish a church to be built here, and that perhaps it is not thy order. For this reason, I earnestly beg of thee, my Lady and Child, that thou entrust tby message to those who are important, well known, respected, and esteemed, so that he may be believed. For I am dust a little man, a string, a little ladder, jus~ a tail, a leaf, a nobody; and thou, my Child, the small-est of my daughters, Lady, art sending me to a place where I never go. Forgive me for causing thee great sorrow and for falling into thy displeasure, my Lady." The most holy Virgin answered,him, "Listen, my smallest son, and understand that many are my servants and messengers whom I can summon to bring my message and do my will. But it is quite necessary that thou thyself should ask and help, and that my will be carried out by thee. I beg of thee, my smallest son, and I strongly command thee, to go again tomorrow to see the Bishop. In my name tell him my will: that be must build the church that I ask. And remind him that it is I myself, the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God, who send thee." 3uan Diego rel~li~d, "My Lady and my Child, do not be grieved. I shall gladly go to carry out thy command. I shall not fail in any way to do it, nc,r do I think the way is difficult. I shall go to do thy will; now it may be I shall not be heard agreeably; or if I am heard, it may be I shall not be believed. Yet, tomorrow evening, when the sun is setting, I will come to give an account of tby, message and the Bishop's reply. Now I leave thee, my smallest daughter, my Child and my Lady. Meanwhile, sleep well." And he went to rest in 10is own house. On the following day, which was Sunday, very early in the morning 3uan Diego left his house and came straightway to Tlati-lolc6, that he might be instructed in divine things and there be pres-ent for the roll call, and later go to the prelate. After Mass, the 116 Ma~l, 1955 EMPRESS OF AMERICA roll call having been completed., the people dispersed. Juan Diego immediately went on to the palace of the Lord Bishop. Scarcely had he arrived, when he exerted every effort to see him again, but he saw' him only with much difficulty. Juan knelt at his feet, mourning and weeping as he related the command of the Lady of Heaven. Would that the BiShop would believe his message and the will of the Immaculate One to build her church wh~re she said she wanted it. The Lord Bishop, that he might gather more inl~orma-tion, asked him many things: where Juan had seen her and how it had come to pass; and he told the Lord Bishop everything per-fectly. But though he explained exactly how she had appeared and how mu~h he had seen and admired, and that she had revealed that she was the ever Virgin, the most holy Mother of our Savior and Lord Jesus Christ; nevertheless, the prelate did not believe him,, replying that he would not have it to be done on his word and petition alone, but that some sigma was necessary for him to be able to believe that the very Lady of Heaven was sending Juan' Diego'. Hearing this, Juan Diego replied to the Bishop, "My Lord, think of what must be the sign that thou dost ask, for now I shall go "to ask it of the Lady of Heaven who sent me hither." The Bishop, seeing that Juan held to all things without hesitation and retracted no.thing, dismissed him. 'At the same time he com-missioned some men of his house, in whom he could trust, to follow "Juan and watch whither he might go and whomever he might see and with whom he might speak. And this is what came to pass. Although Juan Diego made his way straight and followed the road, those who came behind him lost track of him, where the ravine passes near the bridge of Tepeyacac, and though they sought him every- 'where, they did not see him. Wherefore they returned, not only because they had grown weary, but also because their purpose had been blocked, and this caused them anger. They went to report to the Lord Bishop, urging him not to believe Juan, and saying that :he was but a deceiver and had made up the story, or that he was only dreaming what he had said and asked. Finally they suggested that if Juan should return, they might take him and punish him severely, so that he would never again lie or deceive another. Meanwhile, Juan Diego was with themost holy Virgin, r~lat-ing to her the answer that he brought from the Lord Bishop. And she, having heard, said, "It is' well, my little son. Thou wilt re-turn here tomorrow to bring the Bishop the sign that he has asked. With this he will believe thee, and about this request he will no longer 117 EMPRESS OF AMERICA "Ret~iew .for Religiou, doubt nor suspect thee. And know, my little sonl that I shall repay thy care and the work and weariness that thou hast undergone for me. Well, then, I shall expect thee here tomorrow." But on the following day, Monday, on which Juan" Diego was to bring a sign in order that he be believed, he did not return. For when he arrived at his house he found that his uncle Juan Bernardino had been taken very ill. Straightway he went to summon a doctor and some help. But there were no free moments now, for the ill-. heSS was indeed great. That night his uncle besought him to leave early in the morning and come to Tlatilolco that he might call a priest to come and hear his confession and make him ready, for he was very certain that it was his timeto die and that he would never arise nor be strong again. Early in the morning, Tuesday, Juan Diego departed from his house for Tlatilolco to summon the priest. When he reached the road that was at the foot of the hill'of Tepeyacac, toward the west, where it was his custom to go by, he said, "If I make my way straight, it may be the Lady will see me and will surely stop me so that I may bring the sign to the Bishop as she told me. First, however, let us care for the trouble in hand; wherefore, I should call the priest quickly, for my poor uncle is-surely waiting for him." Then turning to the hill he climbed it and passed over onto .the other side toward the east, so that he might reach Mexico quickly and that the Lady of Heaven might not cause him delay. For he thought to avoid the eyes of her to whom all things fire present in sight. He saw her descending from the hill and with her gaze fixed upon him before even he had seen her. And she came up to meet him at a side of the hill and said to him, "What is it that troubles thee, my smallest son? Whither art thou going?" He was saddened somewhat, or perhaps ashamed or frightened. He 'bowed before her and saluted her saying, "My Child, the smallest of my daugh-ters, my Lady, I hope thou art happy. How art thou this m.drning? Art thou in good health, my Lady and my Child? For I shall bring thee sorrow. Thou knowest,.my Child, that my uncle, thy poor servant, is exceedingly ill. He is stricken by the plague and is on the point of dying. I am now hastening to thy house in Mexico to call one of the priests loved by our Lord to come and hear his confession and make him ready, for we who are born do all await the hardship of our death. And though I am departing to do this thing, yet will I afterwards return hither and bear thy. message, my Lady and my Child. Forgive me. Be, patient for a while. I EMPRESS OF: AMERICA will not deceive thee, my smallest daughter. Tomorrow I shall come and in great haste." After hearing the words of Juan Diego, the most loving Virgin made her answer, "Listen and understand, my smallest son. That Which troubles and afflicts thee is nothing, Do not let thy heart be saddened. Do not fear this illness nor any other illness or anxiety. Am I not here, thy Mother? Dost thou not stand under my shadow? Am I not thy health? Dost thou not rest on my lap? What else then dost thou need? Let nothing make thee troubled or unhappy. Be not afflicted by thy uncle's illness, for he will not die of it at this time. For know that he is already well." (And then it was that she healed his uncle, as was discovered afterwards.) Now, when Juan Diego had heard these words of the Lady of Heaven, he felt a deep consolation and happiness, and asked that she send him without delay to see the Bishop and bring him some .sign and proof, so that he might believe. Then the Lady of Heaven told him to ascend the summit of the hill where he had seen her before. "Climb up, my smallest son," she said, "to the top of the hill; where thou didst see me and I gave thee orders thou shalt find different flowers. Cut them and gather them. Then come and bring them to me." Juan ,Diego straightway climbed the hill; and, when he reached the top, he was astonished to find that thebe had blossomed before their season so great a number of various exquisite roses of Castille; for at that time of the year the ice was very severe. The roses ~ave off a great fragrance and were filled with the dew of night that seemed like' precious pearls. Forthwith he began to cut them, joining them togdther and putting them into his cloak-fold. Now, the top of the hill was not.a place where any flowers grew, for it had many rocks, thistles, thorns, nopales, and mezquites. And even if there had been little plants, at that time it was the month of December in which the frost eats and spoils everything. He clambered down without delay and brought the Lady of Heaven the various roses that he had gone to cut. When she saw them she gathered them in he~ hand and again placed them in his bosom saying, ~'My sr~all-est son, these roses of various kind are the proof and sign that thou wilt bring the Bishop. Thou wilt tell him in my name to see my will in this sign and to carry it out. Thou art my ambassador, worthy of confidencd. I strictly order thee to unfold thy mantle and show what thou art bringing before the Bishop alone. Thou wilt relate everything. Thou wilt say that I told thee to climb to 119 'EMPRESS OF ~IMERICA Review for R~ligious the stimmit of the hill to cut flowers, and all that thou didst see and admire, that thou mightest persuade the prelate to lend his hand in the building of the church which I have.requested." After the Lady of Heaven had given him her charge, be started on the way that leads straight to Mexico, happy and sure of sucdess, carefully bearing his burden in his bosom, so that notbng would fall from his hands, and enjoying the fragrance of the various kinds of beau-tiful, flowers. When he had arrived at the palace of the Bishop, the majordomo and other servants of the prelate came out to meet him. He asked them to tell the Bishop that he wished to see him. Yet none of them was willing and acted as if they had not heard him, because it was very early; or perchance they had recognized him and thought him a nuisance. .Besides, they had h~ard from their dompanions how they lost sight of him when their had followed him the day before. Hence, Juan Diego was there many hours waiting. Afte~ a time they noted that be bad been there a long time, standing, downcast, doing nothing. Noticing that he seemed to be carrying something in his bosom, they came near t6 see what it was and to satisfy them-selves. Juan Diego saw that he could not hide his burden withou~ their molesting and manhandling or beating him; so he opened his mantle a little and showed that it contained flowers. They, perceiv-ing that there were various kinds of roses of Castille and re~ilizing that it was not then the season for them to bloom, were greatly taken aback, especially because the flowers .were very fresh, in full "bloom, fragrant and precious, They wanted to take some, but when they dared to touch them they met no success; for when their hands drew near, they saw no true flowers but what seemed to have been painted or'engraved or sewed on the mantle. They went thereupon to tell the Bishop what they had seen and that the little Indian who had come so many times now desired to see him and that be bad been w~iting a long time. Hearing this, the ,Bishop thought that this would be the proof to certify a'nd carry out what the Indian asked. Immediately he ordered Juan to come in. When he entered, Juan did reverence before the Bishop as he had done before, and again relating everything that he had seen and admired, he delivered his .message. "My Lord," said he. "I did what thou didst order me. I went to tell my Mistress, the Lady of Heaven, Holy Mary, the precious Mother of God, that thou didst desire a sign that thou mightest be able to believe me before thou were to make the church where she requested it. I told her 120 May, 1955 EMPRESS' OF ,AMERIC,~ besides that I had given thee my word to bring some sign and proof of her will, as thou. didst demand. She received thy message and kindly granted what thou dost ask, a sign and proof that her will be done. Very early this morning she told me to come again to see thee~ I asked for,the, sign so that thou mightest believe me, which she promised she would give. Immediately she fulfilled the promise: she sent me to the summit of the hill, where I had seen her before, to cut various roses of Castille. And after I went to cut them, I brought them down and she gathered them in her hand and .again put them into my bosom for. me to bring to thee in. person. For, although I knew that at t~e top of the hill there is no place where flowers grow, for there are onl~ rocks, thistles, thorns, nopale~, and mezquites, .I did not doubt. And when I had reached the summit, I saw that I was in a paradise where were all the varied and exquisit~ roses of Castille, sparkling with dew, and these I began to cut. She told me to give them to thee. And so I now" do, so that thou mayest see in them the sign that thou askest and mayest carry out her will,. and-so that the" truth of the words of my message may be made manifest. Here they are; do thou receive them." Then he unwrapped his ~¢hite maiatle which held the roses in its fold. As they were scattered on the floor, all these differentroses of Castille, suddenly there appeared drawn on' the mantle the precious image of the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God, as it,exists and is preserved today in bei- church of Tepeyacac, which is .called Guadalupe. When the Lord'Bisbop bad seen this, be and all w.bo were there knelt down and greatly admired it. And when they arose they were sad and grieved, for they had gaZed upon the image with their whole heart and mind. With tears of sorrow the Lord Bishop earnestly begged pardon for not baying carried out our Lady's will and command. When he had arisen he loosed the garment from 3uan Diego's neck, the mantle on which appea~ed the image of the Lady of Heaven. And taking it he Went' to place it ifi hi~ oratory. 3uan Dieg6, therefore, at the Bishop's command, remained one day more in the Bishop'~ house. The next day the prelate said, "Now show where it is the will of the Lady of Heaven that her church be built." And im-mediately he invited all to take part in the building. '3uan Diego had hardly indicated where the Lady.of~ Heaven had Ordered that her church be built when he asked permission to leave. Hewished now to hasten home and see his uncle 3uan Ber-' nar~tino, who had been very ill when bedeparted for Thtilolco to 121 EMPRESS OF AMERICA call a priest who might hear his confession and make him ready, on that day when the Lady of Heaven told him that he was already made well. Yet the people did not permit 3uan to return alone, but accompanied him to his house. And when they arrived they saw his uncle, who was very cheerful and felt no suffering. He was very much surprised that his nephew arrived surrounded and honored, and he asked him the reason why they were acting so and doing him such reverence. His nephew replied that when he went to call the priest to hear his confession and make him ready, the Lady of Heaven had appeared to him in Tepeyacac, that she told him not to be distressed, for his uncle was alrea~ly well, and that he had felt much consoled. She had sent him to Mexico to see the Lord Bishop in order to have a church built in Tepeyacac. His uncle re-lated that he was certain that it was she who had healed him at the moment, for he had seen her in the same way in which she appeared to his nephew, and had learned from her that she had sent him to Mexico to see the Bishop. Then had the Lady also told Bernardlno that when 3uan went to see the Bishop he should reveal what he had seen and the miraculous way in which she had cured him; and that he should tell the Bishop to call her (for it was fitting that her blessed image be so called) the ever Virgin Holy Mary of Guadalupe. Then they brought 3uan Bernardino into the presence of the Lord Bishop, to come and tell the story and give testimony in his presence. The Bishop received them both as guests iri his house several days, until the church of the Queen was built in Tepeyacac where 3uan Diego had seen her. The Lord Bishop also brought the holy picture of the beloved Lady of Heaven to the principal church, removing it from the oratory of his palace where it had been, so that all the people might see and admire the blessed likeness. The entire city was moved and came to see and admire the pious image and offer prayers. They were astonished that it had appeared by a divine miracle, for no person in this world painted her precious image. SURSUM CORDA Sursurn Corda is a new review for priests and religious, published by the Fran-ciscan Fathers. Its second number (February, 1955) contains the Address of His Excellency the Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop Carboni, to the First Congress of Religious Women of Australia, New Zealand, and Oceania, held at Rose Bay, Sydney, N.S.W., January 18, 1955. The editorial and business address is: 45 Victoria St., Waverly, N.S.W., Australia. 122 ' Pope Plus XII and !:he Religious Lil:e [EDITORS' NOTE: This valuable compilation of papal texts was made by Joseph F. Gallen, S.3. The first installment was published in our January number, pp. 3-11 ; the second in March, pp. 85-92. In his own iintroduction, Father Gallen ex-plained his selection of texts and his methods of reference. To facilitate reading the present installment, it is sufficient to recall that statements preceded by an asterisk were not made directly and ex.plicitly to or of religious and that all paragraphs ex- ¯ cept number 39 are taken from the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, the first number being the volume, the second the year, I~nd the third the page.] IV. THE VOWS 47. Pouertg. "The law of life itself demands the union of the old and the new that life may be ever the same and yet ever vigorous. Therefore, preserve fully and exactly, that form of religious life for whose observance and expression you have arisen in the Church. Certainly that which your glorious predecessors proposed to them-selves and to their" fellow-religious, also of the future, to be guarded with the utmost exertion, was evangelical poverty according to the law and example of the patriarch of Assisi. What an offscouring .of evils has arisen from the accursed thirst for riches! It is thee cause of wars, seditions, hunger, weakening of morals, of destruction. The abnormal disparity between those of excessive, wealth and those wasted by misery and want gives rise to fatal sources of cor-ruption. An admirable remedy for this calamity and corruption is the example of evangelical poverty. This is the attendant from heaven of the precept of labor, the friend of virtue, the teacher of nations, the protection and glory of the Kingdom of Christ, the most faithful preserver of a better hope. Its glorious standard has been entrusted to your hands; preserve it unstained. It is dishonorable to profess poverty in the dissimulation and fallacies of word and to destroy it in fact. Individual religious institutes, due to their growth and increase, may need more and larger houses. It is licit to secure these, but proper moderation and proportion are to be observed. Do not permit the beauty of poverty that is mani~fest in your habit and clothing to be lamentably clouded by sumptuous dwellings and delicate pleasures and comforts of life nor that your conduct contradict your words." Allocution to Fathers of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 40-1948-551, 552. *48. "But even here a 'due measure and discretion' is to be ob- 123 POPE PlUS XlI Religious served, lest it ever .happen that those [seminarians] who must be trained 'tb 's~lf'-d£ni~aF and evangelical virtue live 'in palatial houses and luxurimls ease.and comfort. Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-685. *49. Chastit~l. "The pries.tly office demands from you,'We might say, exceptional sacrifices, and of these the: most outstanding is the complete sacrifice of one's self in al'legian~e to Christ by celibfic}. You must examine yourselves! If any find that they are incapable of:'observing .celi~ac3(,, We beseech them to leave the seminary and to devote themselves to another calling i~. which they will achieve a morally upright and fruitful life, impossible for them in the sanc-tuary without danger to their own eternal salvation and of dishonor for the Church." Address to theStudents o[ the Roman,Serninarie.s, Colleges, and Institutions, 31-1939-249, 250. ,. 50. "In tl~is earthly exile nothing indeed is more b~autiful, nothing more lovable than the immaculate splendor of virginity that shines from the face, the eyes and the affections and gently excites directs others to heavenly 'things. If the flame of divine charit-y is added to the brightness of this unsullied integrity, the resul{ 'i's something .that deeply moves the minds of men, powerfully attract~ their wills and inspires'them to the noble deeds that Christian virtue alone Can effect." Carbonization of B. M. Capitan,'o and C. V. Gerosa, 42-1950-418. '51. "Watchful and attentive care must be taken to make~sur~ that recruits for the sacred militia have great esteem for chastity, love and preserve it, since it. is one of the' main reasons why they have Chosen this.type of life and" persevere ih this vocation. The faci that in the course of human contactS this virtue is exposed to such great dangers demands that in those Who are to take upon them! selves the dignity of the priesthood purity :should "be of long stand'-:" ing anddeeply rooted. Hence, not only should clerics be ~ad~ aware at the proper time of the meaning of priestly celibacy and of tl~e chas~ffy they must practice, as well as of the obligatiotis entails, but they should also be warned of the dangers they ma~ encounter. Seminarians should likewise be urged to avoid from their earliest years all dangers to purity b~" recourse to those method~ of restraining the passions that are recommended by the masters of the spiritual life. Their progress in other virtues and the richnes~ of the fruits of their priestly zeal will be in proportion to the firmness and constancy' of thei'r control of their passions. Should h young 124 Ma~!, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE cleric prove to have a tendency to evil and be unable to break off his bad habit after a suitable time of trial, he should be obliged to. withdraw from the seminary before receiving sacred orders." Apos-tolic Exhortation, 'Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-690, 691. 52. "Therefore this modesty is not to be construed as equi'valent to perpetual silenc~ on matters of chastity nor to forbid in the train-ing of character that a temperate and pru'dent word be ever spoken on this matter. In these things youths are to be instructed with suitable counsels, they are to be permitted to manifest their' problems, to ask questions freely, they are to be given sound, clear answers and an explanation sufficient to impart both light and confidence." Allocution to Teachers of the Order of Discatced Carmelites, 43- 1951-736. 53. "Chastity and virginity (which implies also the interior re-nunciation of every sensual affection) does not make the soul a stranger to the world. It rather awakens and develops the energies for greater and higher duties that surpass the confines of individual families. There are today many teaching sisters and sister nurses who, in the better sense of the word, are closer to life than the or-dinary persons of the world." Apostolic Exhortation to the Inter-national Conoention of Teaching Sisters, 43-1951-741. 54. "Today We wish to speak only to those, whether priests or laymen, preachers, public speakers and writers, who have not a word of approval or praise for virginity vowed to Christ, who for years past, contrary to the warnings of the Church and in oppo-sition to her thought, have in principle given marriage the prefer-ence over virginity and who have gone so far as to present marriage as the only means capable of assuring its development and natural perfection to the human personality. Those who speak and write iri this manner are to take cognizance of their responsibility before God and the Church. They are largely to blame for.a fact that We can mention to you only with sadness. Today more than ever there are repeated requests for Catholic sisters from the Christian world and from outside it, and one after anothe¢ they must be given a sorrowful refusal; at times even works of long standing, hospitals and educational establishments must be abandoned--all because vocations are not sufficient for the needs." Address to the Congress of Mothers General, 44-1952-825. *55. "Here We must add, as the holy fathers and doctors of the Church have so clearly taught, that virginity is not a Christian 125 POPE PIUS XlI Review for Religious virtue unless embraced 'for the kingdom of heaven,' that is, unless its motive is to devote oneself more readily" to divine things, greater security in the attainmefit of eternal happiness and finally greater freedom for a zealous devotion also to the eternal salvation of others. They cannot claim the honor of Christian virginity who abstain, from marriage from excessive selfishness,, or to escape its obligations . . . or to make a proud and pharisaical boast of the integrity of their bodies, : . . a virgin is not to refrain from mar-riage as something ugly but because of the beauty and sanctity of virginity . Accordingly, this is the primary motive, the principal reason for Christian virginity: to strive only for the things of heaven and to direct the mind and heart to divine things, to please God in everything, to meditate on Him deeply, and to consecrate body and soul to Him entirely . It is evidently the love of Christ that persuades the virgin to flee to the cloisters of the mon-astery and to remain there forever that she may more freely and easily devote herself to the contemplation and love of her Divine Spouse; it is the love of Christ that profoundly moves her to un-dertake with all h~r strength and even to death works of mercy for her neighbor." Enc~tclical Letter on Sacred Vlrginit~t, 46-1954- 164, 165, 167. *56. "Before entering on such a very narrow path, all whose experience has shown them that they are very weak in this matter shall humbly heed the warning of Paul the Apostle: 'But if they do not contain themselves, let them marry. For it is better to marry than to be burnt.' There are many for whom the burden of per-fect chastity would evidently be so onerous that it could not be counselled to them. In the same way, priests who have the serious duty of counselling youths who say that they feel drawn to the priesthood or religious life are to urge them to give the mattercare-ful consideration, lest they enter on a way of life that they cannot hope to travel constantly and successfully to its end. Such priests are to give prudent thought to this suitability and, if judged ex-pedient, shall seek skilled advice. If a serious doubt remains, espe-cially if founded on the facts of their past lives, priests shall oblige such candidates to give up the intention of entering on the state of perfect chastity and forbid them admission to sacred orders or religious profession." Enc!jclical Letter on Sacred Virginit~l, 46- 1954-180, I8i. 57. Obedience. "Another effect will be that your obedience will 126 May, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE be established on a perpetually unshakeable foundation. Your stan-dard, your glory, your strength is your obedience. This above all must make you completely docile to the will of your superiors, with-out complaints, without murmur, without that reprehensible criti-cism, the disease of our age, which enfeebles the strength of men and renders their apostolic efforts sluggish and fruitless. The heavy burden imposed by your austere obedience will become light if you are motivated by charity. If charity is present, God is present, be-cause 'God is charity.' Therefore; let there be in you 'charity from a pure heart, and a good conscience, and an unfeigned faith.' " Atlocution to the XXIX General Congregation of the Societ~t of desus, 38-1946-383, 384. 58. "Indeed some praise as the real peak of moral perfection, not the surrender of liberty for the love of Christ, but the curbing of such surrender. The norm therefore to be preferred in the forma-tion of a just and holy person would be this: restrict liberty only where necessary; otherwise, give liberty free rein as far as possible. We transmit the question whether this new foundation 6n which some are trying to erect the edifice of sanctity will be as effective and as solid in supporting and augmenting the apostolic work of the Church as was the one which through fifteen hundred years has been provided by that ancient rule of obedience undertaken for love of Christ . No one is obliged to choose for himself the counsel of perfect obedience, which essentially is a rule of life whereby one surrenders the control of his own will . But words must be understood and accepted according to their obvious meaning, and if this norm is compared with the vow of obedience, it surely does not possess the same supreme value, nor is it an expression of the wonderful example recorded in Holy Scripture: 'He humbled Him-self becoming obedient unto death.' Therefore be is deceived him-self and deceives others who, forgetting the propensities of the soul and the inspiration of divine grace, offers as a guide to one seeking advice about entering the religious state only that new norm. Hence if it is clear that the voice of God is calling someone to the heights of evangelical perfection, without any besitatior~ be should be invited for the attainment of this lofty purpose to offer freely the sacrifice of his liberty as the vow of obedience demands, that vow, We proclaim, which the Church through so many centuries has weighed, has put to the test, has properly delineated and has ap-proved. Let no one be compelled to this self-consecration against 127 PoPE PlUS XlI Review ~:or Reliyfous his will; but if be.does will it, let'no one counsel him against it; above all, let no one hold him back." Address to the Genera[ Con-gress or) the States of Pe.rfectfor), 43-1951-31. 59. "It is certainly of supreme importance that supernatural obedi-ence, motivated by an ardent love of God, should be firmly, insist-ently and fervently fostered, and prevail, according to the norm of their laws; in religious houses. Doesn't the solid support of re-ligious discipline and life have its foundation here? Isn't the past or future success of the great undertakings that religious have and will accomplish to be .attributed solely to the un'iOn of tbeir force's by obedience? You must therefore recognize, r~spect and gladly accept the salutary yoke of obedience as the burden of the brave. However, in our day, in which the machine holds universal sway, wben the mechanical arts bare penetrated everywhere, absorb us and fashion everything to their image, superiors are to be careful not to treat their subjects almost as merchandise or parts Of a ma-cbine but they are always to respect the human person." Allocution to Teachers of the Order of Discalced Carmelites', 43-1951 - 736. V. PARTICULAR VIRTUES 60. Necessity of it)terror life. "But this also, as far as you can, you sbould accomplisb. . . tbat all wbom you can reacb are to be taugbt that notbing is preferable, nothing more necessary than that all should adorn their souls with heavenly virtues and especially that they should foster the divine life from which such virtues arise and grow. Whoever neglects this interior and supernatural life, v~hicfi is nourished by divine grace, whoe~'er devotes himself only to ex.- ternals, even if praiseworthy and adapted to the times, sooner or later realizes that he has given himself to a sterile and perishabl~ work. You know that 'every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights'; therefore, everythin~g also appertaining to the apostolate will be vain and empty unless moved b'y the spirit that is from God." Letter ob the Fifth Centenar~t of the Death of St. Colette, 40-1948-105, 106. 61. "With the same devotion that you cherish religious poverty in external matters you are to accumulate the v~ealth of a true in-terior life and to acquire spiritual riches: love of God and your ~aeighbor, real penance, a knowledge of sacred sciences, and a burn-ing desire to extend the Ki.ngdom of Christ. It is your duty to be conspicuous by a simplicity of conduct, a splendor of goodnesS, a brightness of holy joy, in your sacred ministry humbly to serve 128 May, 1955 "~HE RELIGIOUS LIFE the humble, especially the poorer, whom now evil men by so many evil arts strive to bind to themselves, to favor and assist." Allocu-tion to Fathers of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 40-1948-! 552. 62. "The most active zeal can be closely allied with the quest for the riches of the interior life . An eager external activity and the cultivation of the interior life demand more than a bond of fellowship; as far at least as evaluation and willed effort are con-cerned, they demand that they should march along together step by step. With the growth of devotion~ to exterior works therefore, let there shine forth a cor~espdnding increase in faith, in the life of prayer, in zealous consecration of self and talents to God, in spotless purity of conscience, in obedience, in patient endurance of hardship, and in active charity tirelessly expend.ed for God and one's neighbor . The Church insistently demands of you that your external works correspond to your interior life and that these two: maintain a constant balance." Address to the General Con-gress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-32. *63. Charity. "But legitimate and well-ordered love of our native country should not make us close our eyes to the all-embracing nature of Christian charity, which calls for consideration of others and of their interests in the pacifying light of love." Encyclical Letter, "Sumni Pontit~catus," 31-1939-549. *64. Prayer. Its necessity. "Your divine vocation is to prepare the way in the souls of men for the love and grace of Jesus Christ. This cannot be accomplished unless you yourselves are already im-bued with that love. Enkindle the love of Christ in yourselves by union with Christ in prayer and sacrifice. By uhion, We say, in prayer. If you ask Us what word We have at the beginning of Our pontificate for the priests of the Catholic Church, We reply: pray, pray more ~nd more, and more insistently! By union also in sacri-fice: in the Eucharistic Sacrifice, but not only in the Eucharistic Sacrifice but also in a certain sacrifice of one's self. You realize that one of the effects of the Most Holy Eucharist is to confer strength to sacrifice and deny themselves on those who assist and receive. The various forms of Christian asceticism may continue to differ with regard to many secondary principles but none of them knows any way to the love of God that does not demand sacrifice also of one's self. Christ demanded this of His followers when He said: 'If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up 129 Reuiew for Religious his cross daily, and follow me.' In explicit language He defined the way to the love of God as the observance of the divine ~com-mandments. Finally, especially to His apostles He addressed that wonderful sentence: 'Amen, amen I say to you, unless the grain of wheat failing into the ground die, itself remaineth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.' " Address to the Students of the Roman Seminaries, Colleges, and Institutions, 31-1939-249. *65. "For such a formation of spirit We recommend prayer above everything else, as We have already said to the students of the sanc-tuary in their first gathering before Us. Pray, pray, pray; prayer is the key of the treasures of God; it is the weapon of combat and of victory in every struggle .for good and against evil. What can-not prayer accomplish by adoration, propitiation, petition, thanks-giving?" Address to Italian Catholic Action, 32-1940-368. *66. Necessity of mental pra~ter. "Genuine and real piety, which the Angelic Doctor calls 'devotion,' and which is the principal act of the virtue of religion, that act which correctly relates and properly directs men to God and by which they free!y and spontaneously give themselves to everything pertaining to the worship ~f God, needs meditation on the supernatural realities and spiritual exercises if it is to be nurtured, stimulated, sustained and is to prompt us to a more perfect life . Since our hearts, disturbed as they are at times by the lower appetites, do not always respond to motives of love, it is also extremely helpful to allow consideration and con-templation ~)f the justice of God to excite us on occasion to salutary fear and guide us thence to Christian humility, repentance and amendment." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-534, 535. *67. "First of all, the Church exhorts us to holy meditation, which elevates the mind to things of heaven, draws our thoughts to the supernatural and, once our soul has been inflamed with the desire of God, directs it to Him along the path of right reason . Now it is absolutely essential that sacred ministers should most diligently reproduce in their own lives these examples from the Gospel and the virtues of our Divine Redeemer. But just as bodily food does not nourish, sustain and increase life unless it is digested and be-comes part of our own substance, so also unless the priest by medi-tation and contemplation on the mysteries of our Divine Redeemer --who indeed is the supreme and absolute Exemplar of perfection and the inexhaustible fountain of holiness--lives the life of this same Redeemer, he cannot gain control over himself ~ind his senses, 130 Mag, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE purify his soul, strive for virtue as be should, nor lastly discharge his sacred duties faithfully, zealously and fruitfully . Where-fore, in all truth must We assert that the special efficacy attached to meditation cannot be supplied by any other means and conse-quently that nothing else can replace the practice of daily medita-tion." Apostolic Exhortation, 'Menti Nostrae,' 42-1950-672. *68. Efficac~t of private pra~ter. "There are others who deny any impetratory powers to our prayers and spread abroad the idea that prayers offered to God in private are of little value. Public prayers, that are made in the name of the Church, are those that really avail, since they come from the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ. Such an opinion is false; for the Divine Redeemer maintains closest union not only with His Church, which is His beloved Spouse, but also with each and every faithful soul in it, and He longs to speak with them heart to heart, especially after Holy Communion. It is true that public prayers, since they are offered by Mother Church and because of the dignity of the Spouse of Christ, excel any other kind of prayer; but no prayer, even the most private, lacks its own dignity and power, and all prayer is immensely helpful to the en-tire Mystical Body." Enc~tclical Letter, 'Mgstici Corporis," 35- 1943-235, 236. 69. "But here also there can be a sin of excess. There are some whose extravagant praise of the liturgical forms of the ancient ages easily leads them to a confempt of those of the later centuries and to despise private and popular prayers. Liturgy, which means all forms of worship established by ecclesiastical authority, is something last-ing and living that grows through the cefituries. An attraction for the youthful years must not result in a contempt for the older years . The essential thing in divine worship and the care of souls is always that the followers of the Gospel in the innermost depths of a good conscience seek God, reverence the majesty and the law of the celestial Godhead, do penance for their sins, confess their sins with sorrow and wash away their punishment with works of mercy, acquire grace and live rightly that they may live forever and happily. There are some who eat solid food and some are nour-ished on milk." Homil~t on the Fourteenth Centenar~l of the Death of St. Benedict, 39-1947-455,456. *70. Individual inclinations in praver. "Many of the faithful are unable to use the RomanMissal, even in their native language; nor are all capable of understanding correctly the liturgical rites and 131 POPE PIUS XII Review [or Religious formulas. So varied and diverse are me6's talents and temperaments that it is impossible for all to be moved and attracted to the same extent by community prayers, hymns, and liturgical services. More-over, the needs and inclinations of all are not the same nor are they always constant in the same individual." Encyclical Letter,. "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-561. "71. Multiplicity of prayers. "Above all, do not cease to incul-cate into the minds of all that the Christian life does not consist in the multiplicity and variety of prayers and exercises of piety but rather in their helpfulness towards spiritual progress of the faithful and constant growth of the entire ChurCh." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947,587. *72. "But it should be noted that piety and genuine and ardent zeal for prayer are worth more than a mere multiplicity of prayers." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-673. *73. Spiritual routine. "When young men perform the same exercises of piety according to a practically unchanging daily rou-tine, we can fear that their interior spirit may not be entirely in harmony with the external practices of religion. By force of habit this can happen to them all the more easily and even grow worse when they leave the seminary and are engrossed frequently in the necessary performance of their duties." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-689. *74. Externalism. "It is not merely a question of recitation or of singing [the divine office] which, however perfect according to norms of music and the sacred rites, only reaches the ear, but it is especially a question of the ascent of the mind and heart to God so that, united with Christ, we may completely dedicate ourselves and all our actions to Him." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39- 1947-574. *75. Ritualism and Formalism. "But the primary element of divine worship must be interior. For we must always "live in Christ and give ourselves to Him completely . This recommendation the liturgy itself is careful to repeat as often as it prescribes an exterior act of worship. Thus we are urged, when there is question of fast-ing, for example, 'to give interior effect to our outward observance.' Otherwise religion clearly amounts to mere ritualism and formal-ism . It should be clear to all, then, that God cannot be honored worthily unless the mind and heart are elevated to Him in quest of 132 May, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE the perfect life." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei,' 39-1947-531, 532. *76. "Besides, sin~e they [non-liturgical practices of piety] de-velop a deeper spiritual life in the faithful, they prepare the faith-ful to take part in sacred public functions with greater fruit and lessen the danger of liturgical prayers becoming an empty ritual-ism." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-584. *77. Humility. "Let the priest not trust in his own strength, find undue satisfaction in the contemplation of his talents, go search-ing for the esteem and praise of men or eagerly long for higher positions. Rather let him imitate Christ, who 'has not come to be served but to serve'; let him deny himself according to the law of the Gospel and be not inordinately attached to the things of earth, that he may the more easily and the more readily follow the Divine Master." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-662. *78. Necessity, motive, and purpose of detachment. "He g~ce himself to God and to souls entirely, forever, with no hesitancy, with no reserve. Here is the secret of his heroic training for the supreme victory. To give himself completely, he renounced every-thing . It would be folly to renounce everything and oneself only to make a desert bf oneself. This is not what is done; no one has the right to do it. The motive of renunciation is a greater and holier love. Of this you must be deeply convinced, beloved sons of the Institute of th~ Foreign Missions: for love of God, for love of souls your fellow-member was detached from everything and from himself. This detachment and motive are evidently com-mon to all true apostles, but such love is of varying degree accord-ing to the temperament, charactgr, and natural and supernatural gifts of each." AItocution on the Beatification of Alberico Cris-citelli, 43-1951-165, 167. 79. Penance and mortification. "Not all, particularly in our day, understand as they should this kind of penitential life. Many to-day consider it either of little value or wearisome and neglect it entirely. However, we are not to forget that the lamentable fall ¯ of Adam has infected all of us with the hereditary blemish and inclines all of us readily to the allurements of sin. Penance, there-fore, is.absolutely necessary for us, according to the words: 'but except you do penance, you shall all likewise perish.' Nothing is of greater force in restraining the disordered passions of the soul and in subjecting the natural appetites to right reason. When we 133 POPE PIUS XII Revieto for Religious emerge victorious from this struggle, even though we must follow constantly in the footsteps of Jesus Christ and in a certain manner crucify our own flesh, we shall even in this life possess those heav-enly joys and delights that surpass the pleasures of earth as much as the soul does the body and heaven the earth. Holy penance and voluntary mortifications have their own heavenly consolation that the perishable and fleeting pleasures of life cannot give." Canoni-zation of Marianna of Jesus of Paredes, 42-1950-611, 612. *80. Correspondence with grace and self-effort. "Very truly the sacraments and the sacrifice of the altar, being Christ's own actions, must be held to be capable in themselves of conveying and dispensing grace from the divine Head to the members of the Mystical Body. But if they are to produce their proper effect, it is. absolutely neces-sary that our hearts be rigbly disposed to receive them . Em~ phatically, therefore, the work of redemption, which in itself is in-dependent of our will, requires a serious interior effort on our part if we are to achieve eternal salvation." Encgc[ica[ Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-533, 53.4. VI. MISCELLANEOUS "81. Government. Excessive bureaucraqt. "Finally We wish you to consider a thought that should guide and illumine all your pas-toral act, ion. Dedicate yourselves to it with all your souls. Give to all your activity the personal character of your spirit and your heart. We mean by this that you should be on your guard against an excessive bureaucracy in the care of souls. It is true that the proper management of the parochial office is strictly necessary. Your parishioners, however, must always and in all circumstances sense the kindness and paternal affection that beats in the heart of the pastor. Each and every one of your faithful should feel it, should be able to approach you easily and find in you the help and pro-tection that will fulfill the expectation of his trust." Allocution to Roman Pastors and Lenten Preachers, 43-1951-116. 82. Maternal government. "And now, dearest daughters, We pass on to give you two pressing exhortations. ;Fhe first is that of maternal affection in the direction of your sisters. It is undoubt-edly t~ue, as the psychologists maintain, that when in authority it is not as easy for woman as for man to find the exact balance between severity and kindness. This makes it all the more neces-sary to cultivate your maternal sentiments. Remember that for 134 Mar , 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE your sisters as well as for yourselves the vows demand a great sac-rifice. They have renounced their families, the happiness of mar-riage and the intimacy of family life. This is a lofty sacrifice and of decisive importance for the apostolate of the Church, but it is none the less a sacrifice. Sisters of greatness of soul and delicacy of sentiment feel this detachment most keenly. The words of Christ, 'He that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back is not fit for the kingdom of God,' find their full application here, also today, and without reservation. But the order should replace the family as much as it can, and on you, the mothers general, falls primarily the duty of breathing the warmth of family affection into the common life of the sisters. You must be motherly in your ex-ternal conduct, in your words arid writings, even when this de-mands self-mastery. Above all, be maternal in your inmost thoughts, your judgments and, as far as possible, in your feelings. Beg Mary, the Mother of Jesus and our own Mother, every day to teach you to be maternal." Address to the Congress of Mothers General, 44- 1952-825, 826. 83. Union. Federation of independent houses. "The prolonged actual living and experience of a confederation can convince you of the great wisdom of the Supreme Pontiff, Leo XIII, in procuring that the various Benedictine families, commonly called 'black Bene-dictines,' be united by the bonds of a brotherly confederation, with-out injury to their own institutes or norms. By the realization of this plan, the autonomy or faculty of living according to their own laws, the original norm that g'uided your monasteries, was in fact adapted to modern times in a salutary and provident manner, since it was demanded by the changed circumstances and the common good. In ancient and medieval times, when communications were more confined, the care of the faithful restricted to lesser necessities and the pursuit of. learning less extensive, such autonomy was more consistent. Aren't the very congregations of Benedictine religious that have arisen in the course of centuries an evident argument that a.fraternal union of effort is desired for the strengthening and per-fecting of discipline? Isn't this proved also by the wider associa-tions that were formed, for example, of Cluny and Bursfeld? If the individual monasteries had remained entirely alone, the Maurine Congregation of Benedictines could not have acquired such high renown for advancing sacred sciences, and elsewhere also the luster of your outstanding fictixiity and solid honor would have been dimmed. POPE PlUS XII Review for Religious In this age, the greater facility of communications, the will that is found everywhere more prone to united efforts, the desire for wider learning, for counsel, the instriaments of zeal necessary for priests and also for missionaries to fulfill the expectation placed in them require federations, demand union. If autonomy is unreason-ably retained, there will be found perhaps monasteries that are unequal to their purpose because, of the small number of religious, and the discipline of the observance of rule can also be weakened and even dangers can gradually creep in." Homily on the _Four-teenth Centenar( of the Death of St. Benedict, 39-1947-454, 455. 84. "For the circumstances of our age, with its much greater facility of communication, the increase in the sacred duties and the greater learning required of ministers of the Church seem to de-mand a union of members. Indeed, the J~enedictine Congregations erected in the past are a proof that the progress of the religious life demands that brothers unite their labors with their brothers." Approual and Confirmation of the Constitutions of the Confeder-ation of the Benedictine Monastic Congregations, 44-1952-521. 85. "In view of changed circumstances there are now many con-siderations which make it advisable and sometimes even necessary to confederate monasteries of nuns." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951-13. 86. Centralization. "When the number of houses had so in-creased, the discerning superioress perceived clearly that it is most difficult to attain a unity of religious spirit and to preserve for any length of time union between different houses completely subject to the ordinaries of the" individual places. She realized that no small utility would accrue to the entire congregation i~ it were ruled by a common and uniform government, in which the strength of any institute and the life of religious discipline almost consist. For the attainment of this purpose nothing seemed to her more oppor-tune and suitable than to subject all the houses, whether already founded or to be founded in the future, to the house at Angers and to place a mother general over th~ entire congregation. This intention, although approved by the Bishop of Angers and other very prudent men, gave rise to a serious controversy . These dissensions could not but greatly sadden Mary of St. Euphrasia but were powerless to break her spirit or weaken her constancy. ¯ . . The Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, on Janu-ary 9, 1835 . approved the intention of the servant of God, 136 May, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE and Pope Gregory XVI, of happy memory, deignedto confirm this decree in all respects . This same Predecessor of Ours, after the matter bad again been subjected to a thorough examination . solemnly confirmed that decree." Decretal Letters of Canonization of St. Mary of St. Euphrasia, 33-194.1-141. 87. Nuns. Introduction of solemn vows. "All monasteries [of nuns] in which only simple vows are taken shall be entitled to ask for the introduction of solemn vows. In fact, unless there are serious reasons to the contrary, they shall take steps to return to the solemn vows." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43- 1951-16. 88. Necessity of at least minor papal cloister. "Papal cloister, either major or minor, is to be regarded as a necessary condition not only that solemn vows may be taken but also that those monas-teries in which simple vows are taken may hereafter be considered true monasteries of nuns according to can. 488, 7°." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951 - 17. 89. "If however it appears with certainty that in any monas-tery [of nuns] even the minor cloister cannot regularly be ob-served, that monastery is to be converted to a house of either a congregation or a society." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951-17. 90. Unity among rebgious institutes. "Harmony and generous agreement between the different religious families can be very favor-able in attaining such a desirable outcome. Mutual knowledge and encouragement, a holy rivalry cannot but be of mutual advantage. Splendid initiatives are already apparent in this respect; it remains only to perfect them." Apqstolic Exhortation to the International Convention of Teaching Sis'ters, 43-1951-743. 91. Praise of Religious Women. "How could the Church in later and more modern times have fully accomplished her mission with-out the work of the hundreds of thousands of religious women per-formed with such great zeal in education and charity? How could she accomplish it in our day? May your dedication, love and sac-rifices, so frequently hidden and unknown but suffered for love of ¯ Christ to benefit youth, produce in the future, as in the past, a hundred-fold of good! May the Lord reward you for it and pour out on you the abundance of His divine favors!" Apostolic Ex-hortation to the International Convention of Teaching Sisters, 43- 1951-739. 137 POPE PIUS 92. Clerical and religious states. "It is a distortion of the truth to say that the clerical state as such and as of divine law demands .either by its very nature or by some postulate of that nature that the evangelical counsels be observed by its members and that for this very reason it must or may be called a state of achieving evan-gelical perfection . So too, the fact that the priests of the Latin rite are bound to observe holy celibacy does not remove or lessen the distinction between the clerical and the religious states. More-over, a member of the regular clergy professes the state and condition of evangelical perfection not inasmuch as he is a cleric but inas-much as he is a religious." Address to the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-29. 93. Exemption. "Again, the exemption of religious orders is not contrary to the principles of the constitution given to the Church by God nor does it in any way contradict the law that a priest owes obedience to his bishop. For, according to canon law, exempt religious are subject to the authority of the local bishop so far as the administration of the episcopal office and the well-regulate~d care of souls require. But even putting aside this consideration, in the discussions of the past few decades concerning the question of exemption perhaps too little attention has been paid to the fact that exempt religious, even by the prescriptions of canon law, are always and everywhere subject to the authority of the Roman Pontiff as their supreme superior and that they owe obedience to him precisely in virtue of their vow of obedience . It is there-fore clear that the primary law of God whereby the clergy and the laity are subject to the rule of the bishop is more than sufficiently observed as regards exempt religious, as it is no le~s clear that both branches of the clergy by reason of their parallel services conform to the will and precept of Christ." Address to the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-28, 29. *94. Adequate support. "What is more, Venerable Brethren, We heartily commend the plans that you will discuss to insure that priests be provided not only with means to meet their daily needs but also with assurances of assistance for the future--as We are happy to see done in civil society--particularly for cases in Which they may fall ill, be 'afflicted with chronic ill health, or be weakened by old age. Thus you will relieve them of all anxiety for the future." Apostolic Ex-hor. tation,. "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-698. .138 Through I-lis Blood Joseph H. Robling, C.PP.S. IF variety is the spice of life in general, it is also, in a sense, the spice of our supernatural life. If, for example, we have been considering certain revealed truths from the selfsame aspect so long that they scarcely impress us any more, it is helpful to con-sider them from some other aspect for a while. Many such variations are possible. Among them is the con-sideration of the truths of faith from the aspect of the precious blood of our Lord. This aspect was adopted very notably by St. Gaspar del Bufalo, who was canonized on June 12 of last year. He is called the Apostle of the Precious Blood, not only because he founded the Society of the Precious Blood in Rome in 1815, or because he fostered the pious union of the same name, but also be-cause in his very effective preaching of missions and retreats in the Papal States over a period of more than twenty years before his death in 1837 he frequently focused the attention of his hearers on the precious blood and from that vantage point drove home his message of instruction and exhortation. For this purpose during his sermons he sometimes held a large crucifix portraying the figure of the bleeding Savior and wore on his breast the now familiar mis-sion cross showing our Redeemer in the act of sacrificing even His own blood for sinners. Considering revealed truths from the aspect of the precious blood, we may profitably reflect, for instance, that no grace whatever comes to us independently of the sacrificial blood of Christ; for no grace is given to fallen mankind except that merited for us by the bloody sacrifice of our Redeemer on the cross. This same sacrifice was fore-shadowed and foretold in the Old Testament and is renewed and perpetuated by the holy Mass in the New. Furthermore, since we receive no grace independently of the precious blood, we also would have no means of grace without it--no Church, no priesthood, no sacraments, no sacramentals, no fruitful prayer. Again, since no one can be saved without grace, we can truthfully say that without the precious blood there would be no saint in heaven nor any soul in purgatory, nor even any just man on earth. Without it there would be neither justification nor salvation for any human .person. The blood of Jesus speaks better than the blood.of Abel (Heb. 12:24). It speaks of our Savior's lo,¢e and foFgivenes.s, of the ~13_9 JOSEPH H. ROHLING reality and extent of His sufferings, of the sacrifice He offered and the price He paid, of the tangible evidence and measure of His love for souls, of the mercy and pardon He holds out to repentant sin-ners, and His nourishing of souls in Holy Communion. It teaches the value of an immortal soul, for with St. Paul every human person can say, "He gave himself up for me" (Gal. 2:20), that is, He sacrificed even His own blood for me. And if our own soul., is so valuable in His sight, so is the soul of every other human being. Therefore, it teaches us zeal for souls and forms a powerful motive for missionary undertakings. It also teaches us the value of suffer-ing. If Jesus was willing to go to the extreme limit of shedding His own blood for me, how can I refuse Him the lesser sufferings and inconveniences and sacrifices He asks of me? Modern man tends to regard suffering as the greatest evil. The precious blood, on the other hand, teaches us that sin is a greater evil, because the Son of God was willing to undergo even a bloody death in order that sin might be taken away. The precious blood also supplies us with important motives for contrition and. amendment, for by sin we offend Him "who has loved us and washed us from our sins in hi~ own blood" (Apoc. 1:5). By committing mortal sin we lose all the sanctify-ing grace purchased for us at the price of our Redeemer's blood. Baptism an'd penance cleanse us from sin and punishment insofar as ¯ they infuse sanctifying grace and thus apply the merits of the pre-cious blood. The sacramental anointing with holy oil in confir-mation and 'extreme unction give supernatural strength to the soul because they apply these same merits in their specific way and for their specific purposes. Holy Orders and matrimony give the special graces for which they were.instituted and in'that way apply the merits of the blood of redemption to the recipients to enable them to fulfill the obligations of their respective states of life. The Holy Eucharist nourishes the recipient on the very blood itself that he may have everlasting life and be raised up on the last day (John 6:56). These examples will suffice to illustrate the manner in which 'we can regard the eternal truths from the aspect of the precious blood. For those who have not been using this approach, it may serve as a welcome variation in their prayer and meditation. St. Gaspar del Bufalo used this approach to great advantage. God blessed his efforts. By canonizing him the Church proposes him as a model for all of us. May we benefit by his example! 140 Community Lit:e Bernard I. Mullahy, C.S.C. yOU often hear it said that one of the principal reasons why there are not more vocations to the religious life is that young people find it hard to give up their social life, or that one of the things young women find most difficult in the convent is the lack of social life. Everyone understands What is meant by this, of course; yet, to suggest that in reality the religious life means a denial of social life is to misunderstand either the nature of the religious life or the true meaning of social life or, more fundamen-tally, the nature of the Christian life and its relation to the re-ligious life. The religious life is not something apart from thi~ Christian life, not even something added on to it; it is the Christian life lifted to its maximum dimensions. The religious life is simply a state which provides the best conditions for living the Christian life in the fullness of its perfection and beauty and splendor. Our religious vows are buta fulfillment of our baptismal vows; and perhaps the fact that so many of us have the habit of renewing our religious vows frequently while .hardly ever thinking of renewing our bap-tismal vows is an indication that we do not appreciate clearly and explicitly enough the vital relation between what happened to us on the day of our profession and what happened to us on the day of our baptism. Religious vocation is a flowering of our original vocation to be Christians, and we would surely have a deeper un-derstanding of the implications of our religious life if we had a fuller and clearer appreciation of the meaning of the Christian life. Now the Christian life is essentially a social life. It is a par-ticipation in the communal life of the Trinity and of the Mystical Body. And it goes without saying that this is the most intimate and intense social life conceivable. If then the whole meaning of religious vocation is to lift the Christian life to full perfection, it follows that one of the main purposes of the religiou's life, particu-larly in its cenobitic form, is to enal~le the Christian to live the sociai life of the Mystical Body and of God Himself in the fullness of its intensity and intimacy. This, it would seem, is the inner meaning of our community life. If we are not sufficiently conscious of this inner meaning, the reason may be that we are in the habit of viewing community life 141 BERNARD 1. MULLAHY Revietv {or Religious too much as a purely disciplinary thing, as something which rigor-ously rules out all singularity; every tendency to withdraw from community recreation and other community functions, every infrac-tion of the common life which might offend poverty in any way: we do not view it in the whole context of the Christian life, nor do we trace it back to its doctrinal and sacramental sources. There are three principal aspect~ of the Christian life: doctrine, worship, and moral action; or, in other words, the three C's: creed, cult, and code. In the spirituality characteristic of our times, there has been a tendency to stress code and moral action in isolation from creed and cult, from doctrine and worship. When this is done the Christian life and the religious life are viewed primarily in terms of asceticism, in terms of spiritual practices which are seen less as acts of divine worship than as exercises to perfect the soul. There is a concentration on sanctifying the will by a pattern of ascetical rules without at the same time illumining and enriching the mind with the doctrinal wellsprings of the Christian life. This tends to make the Christian life a kind of ethical and legalistic thing. Perhaps we have been in the habit of thinking of community life too much from this point of view. Perhaps we have seen it too much in terms of code, and not enough in terms of creed and cult; and it might be helpful for us to try to situate it in its proper context of doctrine and worship. To try to get at the doctrinal source of community life is to ask the question, Where is community life lived in its fullest and most perfect form? The answer, as we have already suggested, is: the Blessed Trinity. The life of the Trinity is essentially a com-munity life. G6d not only has community life, He is community life. He is a community of three Persons whose life,consists in an eternal, mutual outpouring of light and love, an outpouring that is so intense and so utterly altruistic that it constitutes the very per-sonality of the members of the community. Here is community life in its perfection: the personality of each of the members consists in being a living relation to the other members, nothing more, nothing less. Here is the common life in its fullest dimensions: none of the members possesses-anything absolute, anything at all, by Himself alone; everything absolute is shared in common. Here, as in a re-ligious community, the common life is founded on poverty, that mysterious, infinitely rich poverty of the three divine Persons which make it impossible to possess anything absolute as belonging to them personally. 142 Mag, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE Our religious vows meant an entrance into a community life. So also did our baptismal vows. At baptism a real participation in the infinitely altruistic, communal life of the Trinity was put into our souls; and we were caught up in the intense and intimate social intercourse of the three divine Dersons. From then on we were des-tined to live the community life of the Mystical Body of Christ. From then on our vocation was to live not an isolated or insulated or introverted life, but a life of perfect altruism. This meant that our Christian personality would have to have something of the per-sonality of the three divine Persons; we wduld have to become a living relation to others: our joys, our riches, our prayer would have to be theirs; their poverty, their sorrows, their sufferings would have to be ours. The community life of the Mystical Body is a thing of vast proportions, for it embraces the whole Communion of Saints: the Church militant and suffering and triumphant. The proportions are so vast and the states so different that it is difficult for us while in this life to realize its far-reaching implications. Even if we limit our view to the Church militant, the distances are so great, there is such a lack of immediate contact, and there are so many differences of national traits and cultures and backgrounds, so many divisive forces, that it is not easy for us to have the sense of achieving close social intercourse. The parish is, of course, the natural communal unit in the Mystical Body; but here also differences of backgrounds and occupations and many other things seem to put a limit upon the intimacy and intensity of the social relations. The family, too, has its drawbacks, such as the immaturity of the children, for ex-ample. But in the religious community all these limitations dis-appear; and perhaps we may be permitted to think that one of the principal reasons why God brought religious communities into ex-istence was to provide a state which would have the ideal condi-tions for living the communal life of the Blessed Trinity and of the Mystical Body with the fullest intensity with which it is pos-sible for man to live it here on earth. In the religious state ~ire found the most perfect conditions for reflecting the social life of God. Here everyth{ng is possessed in common, and what belongs to one belongs to all. Here the barriers, the divisive influences, and the differences in interests and o.~cupations so often found in the world disappear. All are inspired by the same common purpose; all are governed by the same religious rule; all are formed in the same spiritual life and .participate in the same spir~ BERNARD I. MULLAHY itual exercises. Here we should expect to find the fullest achievement of social life, the highest form of altruism, the most perfect self-lessness, the least degree' of spiritual introversion. Nowhere should social consciousness be more delicate and strong, more sensitive and refined. Here, as in the community life which is God, there should be a constant outpouring of light and love upon others; and, like a reflection of the members of that divine community, each religious should' be a kind of living relation to all the others. In a word, since the Christian life is essentially a social life and since the purpose of the religious state is to bring the Christian life to its full devel-opment, we should expect to find nowhere more than in a religious community the perfect answer to the prayer of Christ after the Last Supper: "That they all may be one even as thou, Father, in me and Iin thee; that they also may be one in us. I in them and thou in me; that they may be perfected in unity." That this ideal is not always fully realized hardly needs to be mentioned. Everyone knows that, even in the extremely favor-able conditions for social life provided by the religious state, social .maladjustments and social tensions can and do exist, that not in-frequently individualism and spiritual introversion are developed to a high degree. There are undoubtedly a good many reasons for this. But may not one of the principal reasons be, as we have already sug-gested, the tendency to stress the code of the religious state in iso-lation from the whole context of the Christian life? When the religious life is viewed principally in terms of asceticism and dis-ciplinary regulations, when more insistence is placed upon the moral virtues than upon the theological virtues, when the various practices which go to make up the spiritual program are viewed more as exer-cises of the spiritual athlete than as acts 0f divine worship, and when there is more insistence upon self-perfection than upon charity as the goal of the spiritual life, it is hardly to be wondered at if some religious succumb to the temptation to turn in upon themselves and to become spiritually introverted. And, when the official prayer life of the Church suffers at the hands of spiritual individualism and private devotions, when the liturgical life is not lived fully by the religious, and when his community life does not find i~s full and natural expression in the communal worship of the Mystical Body, it seems inevitable that the social implications of this community life will not be brought to fulfillment. Since the Christian life is essentially a social life, it is only natural that the official prayer lif~ of the Christian, the liturgy, 144 May, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE should be essentially a social worship. And, if the purpose of the religious life is to. bring the Christian life to its ~perfection, are we not entitled to expect that, while each religious society will natur-ally want to insist on its own proper spirituality and spirit, the official social worship of the Church will also be brought to ful-fillment in it? May we not be permitted to suspect that one of the purposes God had in mind in raising up religious communities was to bring about the best conditions for communal worship? It seems incongruous and inconsistent to insist on community life without insisting on communal worship. Yet there are religious congregations which make much of community life in all its minute disciplinary details all the way. along the line (and not infrequently in an all too univocal way which confuses unity and uniformity) until it is a question of worship, and then individualism and sub-jectivism take over, at least to a large extent. We even find paradoxical situations in which private prayer is made public and public prayer private. Nothing could be more. personal and intimate than mental prayer. Yet it is not uncommon to find it turned into a kind of public exercise, with the same subject for meditation read out for the entire community the evening before, and all the same points read out in public during the meditation period the next morning. On the other hand, the greatest public act of worship, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, is often treated like a private devotion. It seems, therefore, that the community life of religious needs a rich doctrinal source in the dogma of the Church and a rich sacra-mental source in the liturgy of the Church. And, of course, the sun and center of the whole sacramental background of corhmunity life is the Eucharist. The Blessed Sacrament is the basic foundation for the common life because, as St. Thomas Aquinas points out, it contains substantially the common good of the whole Church. The community, life of a religious congregation will depend in lar, ge measure upon the way in which the Mass is understood and loved by the religious and upon the way it is participated in by the com-munity. In a very particular way, community life will depend upon the attitude of the religious towards Communion. In modern times there has been a very paradoxical attitude among Catholics. Some, re-alizing that Communion is not necessary to fulfill the obligation of hearing Mass on Sunday have come to look upon it as a purely external addition to the Mass. Others have made it the focal point 145 BERNARD I. MULLAHY Re~ieu] ~:or Religious of the whole Mass, as though the Mass were a Communion service rather than a Sacrifice. This latter attitude is the more common among religious. Comr~union viewed as an intimate personal union between the individual soul and Christ is made the center of at-tention; and, with the notion ~of sacrifice pushed far into the back-ground, the part of the Mass which precedes Communion is spent in a personal preparation for the reception of Christ; and the part afterwards, in a personal thanksgiving. It has not been unknown for religious communities to receive Communion regularly every morning before Mass so that the religious might spend the entire Mass in making a private act of thanksgiving. Fortunately, this sort of thing is becoming more and more rare. Communion can play its proper role in our community life only when it is viewed in its proper relation to the whole Mass, and the Mass in turn is viewed in its proper relation to the whole liturgical life of the Church. Then Communion xvill be seen as a social, sacrificial banquet in which the members of the Mystical Body corporately share in the Sacrifice and by feeding upon the Victim make of themselves one corporate sacrifice with Him. As Thomas Aquinas and other theologians have insisted, Com-munion does not mean merely a personal, private union between the individual soul and Christ: it also means a union of the mem-bers of the Mystical Body. Its proper effect is not merely something personal and individual, but something social and communal. Its purpose is not simply to give spiritual nourishment to tl~e individual soul, but to strengthen and intensify and revivify the manifold social bonds by which the members of the Mystical Body are made .one in Christ. Communion is directly related to the Christian community as a community. And for the religious, Communion is directly related to living the community life. If, as day follows day, the Communion of the religious is not gradually bringing about greater and more .sensitive social consciousness, a fuller and more perfect participation in community life, a stronger and more delicate exercise of fraternal charity, a more mature forbearance of the faults and failings of others, a greater capacity to cope with the misunder-standings and tensions which tend to creep into even the best com-munities, and a more generous acceptance of the many trying crosses which the common life always involves, something is wrong. Dhily Communion sometimes goes on for years withotit mu~b evidence of that growth in sanctity which would normally be ex-pected from° such frequent and intimate:contact with the source 146 ,~la~, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE of all sanctity. As we have suggested elsewhere,1 one of the chief reasons for this phenomenon might very well be a lack of proper appreciation of the direct and essential relation between Com-munion and community. Because of this relation, any failure to live community life in its fullness will be an obstacle" to the full effects of Communion in our lives. It is not uncommon to find members of communities who by certain standards are considered excellent religious, and yet who seem never to have realized the social implications of their religious vocation. They are faithful to their rule, but in a very legalistic way. They are meticulous about every disciplinary detail; they are generous and sometimes even heroic in the practice of asceticism; and they are obedient enough when any of the obligations of com-munity life are pointed out to them; yet, intent upon their own spiritual life, the goal of which they conceive to be their own personal perfection rather than charity, they live a very individu~l-istic and insulated life. They never seem to enter fully into com-munity life nor to have any spontaneous contribution to make to it. They are socially cold and unimaginative. Just as demanding With others as they are with themselves, they find it difficult to under-stand and to sympathize with certain weaknesses of their fellow religious. Their fraternal charity is a kind of practised, artificial thing, lacking in warmth and mellowness. They are without social sensitivity and find it hard to enter into the feelings of others, to anticipate their wants. They are not thoughtful: and, when others are in need of help or there is some kind of community project to be taken in hand, they are usually busy with other things. All this may very well be due, at least in large measure, to a failure to understand and appreciate the doctrinal and liturgical background of community life in general, and to a wrong attitude towards Holy Communion in particular. These religious have never been made to understand clearly the social implications of Communion and have habitually viewed it only as a personal experience, an exquisitely close and intimate contact between Christ and their soul. Communion is thus but a part of their whole spirit-ually introverted program. It was the social virtue of fraternal charity that Christ gave as the distinguishing mark of the Christian. And, if the purpose of the. religious life is to bring the Christian to his full stature, in plenitudinern Christi, this social virtue should surely shine forth 1 Cf. "The Common Good," Worship, XXVII, No. 7, 345. 147 BERNARD I. MULLAHY Review ~o~ Religious in religious in all its splendor. This is the whole meaning and pur-pose of their community life. .In a sense, community life makes fraternal charity more difficult.because close living together seems to accentuate the many faults and failings of human nature which are often so hard to put up with; but at the same time it provides the most perfect conditions for living fraternal charity in its fullest dimensions. Religious are often anxious, especially at the time of retreats, to find some norm whereby they may assess their spiritual growth. The measurement of spiritual progress is a very complex and an easily deceptive thing, and it is difficult to find a reliable norm to go by. But insofar as there is any reliable standard at all, it is surely the social virtue of fraternal charity. "By this will all men know that you are my disciples." And it is principally in terms of their social life that religious will be judged at the end. "In the eventide of life," says 3ohn of the Cross, ."they will examine thee in love"; and he is merely paraphrasing Christ's own description of the last judgment in which everything is made to depend upon social life: "I was hungry and you gave me to eat." Rooting the idea of community in its proper doctrinal and liturgical sources will help to avoid some of the misconceptions and excesses which not infrequently accompany the common life. One of the most ordinary of these is the confusion between unity and uniformity. The common life is viewed all too often in a perfectly univocal way and any lack of uniformity even in the smallest de-tails is considered a breach of unit~. There results a kind of lock-step existence; short shrift is made of personal initiative and re-sourcefulness, "and the religious "with ideas" becomes suspect. Even in minutiae the religio~s are expected to do only what their elders have done and are doing, and woe to the one who suggests that there might be a better way. Regulations multiply and accumulate in an attempt to organize the life of the religious down to the slight-est detail. Customs which .once made sense because of special cir-cumstances of time or place but which have long since lost their significance and propriety are held 'as sacred and inviolable. The accumulated weight of regulations and customs crushes and stifles' "the liberty of the children of God" which the religious came to the community to find. Community life becomes top-heavy: all initiative comes from the top; local superiors must get directives from higher superiors even in relatively trivial matters; and within the local house all new ideas, if they are to have any value, must orig- 148 Magl, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE inate with the superior. Such a program is well calculated to pro-duce a standard product, a religious whose.chief characteristics are neutrality, passivity, and automatism. This description is undoubtedly sbmething of a caricature, but does it not point up a real problem? And is not the only adequate solution that broad and, beautiful vision of the corporateness of. the Mystical Body and of the liturgical life of the Church? Here is the closest and most intimate unity, but at the .same time the greatest variety and flexibility. Here is a structure that is not me-chanical and rigid, but organic and supple. Another difficulty in connection with community life is that it often tends to cut the religious off from participation in a broader communal life and thus, paradoxically, to create a kind of com-munity individualism. To what extent non-cloistered religious can and sbould participate in'the communal Christian life of the parish in which they are stationed is a. question that is too complex and too delicate to be treated here; but it is a question which sbotild be faced. For the most part, the community life of the religious cuts them off and isolates them from corporate parochial life, and perhaps it would not be im13ossible.to find ways and means of enabling them .to partidpate, to some extent at least, in the com-munal worship of the parish, which is, after all, the natural social unit of the Mystical Body. The paradox of community" individualism is also found fre-quently in an exaggerated esprit de corps which develops a kind of sectarian spirit among religious. It is perfectly in order for a re-ligious to be proud of the traditions and the accomplishments of his own congregation and to prefer its characteristic life and spirit to that of any other community. All that is part and parcel of his vocation to that particular sodiety. And there is such a thing as a holy rivalry between communities. But it is also possible for a com-munity spirit to become excessive, to canonize too easily the tra-ditions and methods proper to the congregation, to develop a false pride which in many subtle and implicit ways looks down upon other communities and which closeq the congregation in upon itself and makes it impervious to good influences which might come to it from others. Here, as elsewhere the only remedy is that total view of the communal life of the Church found in its doctrine and its .liturgy. St. Augustine's dream of the reign of Christ's love upon earth which prompted him to say, "And there will be one Christ loving 149 c. A HERBST Review For Religious Himself," should find its fullest realization in the community life of religious. Christ is living in each religious; and, when the com-munity is bound together in fraternal charity, there is but one Christ loving Himself. No one can sing the hymn "Ubf Caritas'" with greater truth and meaning than the religious. "Congregat2it nos in unum Christi amor.--It is the love oL-Christ that has brought us together and made us one." The. Third Mode of blumili :y C. A. Herbst, S.3. EACH master of the spiritual life has certain ideals whic.h are distinctive and which he considers of the utmost importance ~n his plan for achievirig perfection. For St. Ignatius of Loyola, the Third Mode of Humility is one of these. He thus pre-sents it in the Spiritual Exercises: "The third is most perfect hu-mility; namely, when--including the first and second, and the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty being equal--in order to imitate and be more actually like Christ our Lord, I want and choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Christ replete with it rather than honors; and to desire to be rated, as worthless and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." In order right in the beginning to get a better understanding of this, it will be well to present a fuller expression he gives in another place. "They must diligently observe, esteeming it of great import-ance and of the highest moment in the sight of our Creator and Lord, how much it helps and contributes to progress in spiritual life, to abhor wholly and not in part what the world loves and embraces, and to accept and desire with their whole strength what-soever Christ our Lord loved and embraced. For as worldly men, who follow the things of the world, love and with great diligence seek honors, reputation and the credit of a great name upon earth, as the world teaches them, so those who are advancing in spirit and seriously follo'w 'Christ our Lord, love and earnestly desire things which are altogether the contrary; that is, to be clothed with the same garment and with the livery of their Lord for His love and reverence: insomuch that if it could be without offence of the 150 Ma~l, 1955 THE THIRD MODE OF HUMILITY divine Majesty and without sin on the part of their neighbor, they would wish to suffer reproaches, slanders and injuries, and to be treated and accounted as fools (without at the same time giving any occasion for it), because they desire to imitate and resemble in some sort their Creator and Lord Jesus Christ, and to be clothed with His garments and livery; since He clothed Himself with the same for our greater spiritual good, and gave us an example, that in all things, as far as by the assistance of God's grace we can, we may seek to imitate and follow Him, seeing He is the true way that leads men to life." (Examen Generale, IV, 4.) We should know what the other two modes .of humility are in order to understand the third. I have the first when I so subject myself to God that I am ready to give up everything, even life it-self, rather than commit a mortal sin. I have the second when I so subject myself to God that I am indifferent to created things and am ready to give up everything, even life itself, rather than commit a venial sin. Subjection to God is the note common to the three; but the third is so different from the other two that there is a dis-tinction not of degree only, but of kind. The idea behind the third mode of humility is perfect imitation of Christ "Who, having joy set before him, endured the cross, de-spising the shame" (Heb. 12:2). We want to imitate Christ per-fectly. We want what He had, even, especially, the hard things. The early Christians ambitioned, and often attained, actual perse- ¯ cution and death. But, when peace came to the Church in the Ro-man Empire after 312 A. D., they could no longer look forvOard to martyrdom. What were the.y now to ambition as the apex of their spiritual ascent? Thence stemmed the doctrine of bloodless martyrdom in asceticism and the religious life. From this stream of spiritual development, the author of the Spiritual Exercises drew his ideal of self-renouncement for Christ. The driving force in fervent souls is to "get to Christ." We have a splendid example of this in St. Ignatius, martyr and apos-tolic father. His motto was: "My Love is crucified." When on his way to martyrdom he wrote: "I am now beginning to be a disciple; may nothing visible or invisible prevent me from reaching Jesus Christ. Fire and cross and battling with wild beasts, their clawing and tearing, the breaking of bones and mangling of mem-bers, the g~ind!ng of my whole body, the wicked torments of the devil--let 'them all assail me, so long as I get to Jesus Christ." (Ad Romanos~ 5; Father Walsh's translation.) "Ignatius of Loy- 151 C.A HERBST Review for Religious ola sensed, so to speak, his spiritual affinity with this man of the early Church when, in honor of this Saint, he changed his name from Inigo to Ignatius and in one of his letters styled him 'that glorious Saint for whom I have in Our Lord, or wish to have, a very special reverential devotion.' " (Rahner, The Spirituality of St. Ignatius Loyola, 59-60.) We might be inclined to think the third mode of humility as beyond our reach, as heroic. Is it heroic? Perhaps. Surely not in the sense explained by Pope Benedict XIV in his great work on the canonization of saints. But it may be heroic in a general and popularly accepted sense of the word. One who gives his life in a cause is commonly considered to be h~roic. A soldier must be ready tO die for his country. This is expected of every soldier. Yet, if he actually die, he is considered a hero. Sainted martyrs gave their lives rather than offer incense to false gods. In that they did only what they were obliged to do; yet they are considered God's heroes, heroic. At confirmation the bishop gives every Chris-tian a slight blow on the cheek to remind him that he must be ready to suffer anything, even death, for the sake of Christ. This sounds as though it is asking for heroism which, however, is pre-sumably within the reach of all. In the same way the heroism of the third mode of humility might reasonably be expected of those who are professionally travelling the high road of perfection. It almost looks as though a religious in making his profession has deliberately chosen as his way of life the third mode of humility. When he says, "I vow poverty," he says, "I want and choose pov-erty with Christ poor rather than riches." By taking a vow of chastity, he may be calling upon himself the disapproval of "worldly men, who follow the things of the world." By the vow of obedi-enc~ be is laying aside his own will by vcbicb be might push on to wealth, honor, and power. By pronouncing his vows, a re-ligious. has professionally taken on that foolishness of God which is wiser than men and that weakness of God which is stronger than men (I Cot. 1:25). He has/aid himself open "to be rated as worth-less and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." ~The third mode of humility is a habit of mind, an habitual disposition of heart. A" striking act of self-abnegation now and then or even a spurt of fervor occasionally is not sufficient. It must become a way of life with us, a place in which we live. Father Considine puts it well in "A Question as to Ideals" when he says: 152 Mav, 1955 THE THIRD MODE OF HUMILITY "Within this region the Saints . . . have occupied sumptuous man-sions, in central and commanding positions, whereas the modest dwelling of any one of us may be no better than a poor cottage on the outskirts. But, poor as this dwelling may be, it must be within the border." (Woodstock Letters, 1908, 363.) Even of our miserable little hut on this high plateau we might say: "Better is one day in thy courts above thousands. I have chosen to be an abject in the house of my God, rather than to dwell in the taber-nacles of sinners" (Ps. 83:11). How I can come to live there is what should be of great con-cern to me. There is close approach to, or passive practice of, the third mode, if we make "acts of sincere th.ankfulness, as often as any little share of the cross falls to our portion. Even supposing that, on one occasion.or another, we have brought some humiliation on ourselves by our own imprudence, we may, while most heartily regretting the fault or error of judgment, no less heartily thank God that we have at least some opportunity of making up for the fault or error, through the patient endurance of discomfort or even (it may be) the contempt which it has brought on us." (Woodstock Letters, 1908, 372.) We need not search far to find ample matter for living this life with Christ, "despising the shame." "The life of a religious is full of occasions in which he is blamed, or forgotten, or scorned, or ridiculed, or humiliated . We must expect little humiliations that fall upon us at any time and in any place--in the form of failure, lack of consideration, disapproval and small acts of ingrati-tude; we must suffer the offense of angry words, words that hurt, words of ridicule; we must bear outright and thinly veiled refusals; our cross may consist in lack of approval, lack of sympathy, scorn or contempt expressed by a look, a gesture, an attitude, or in being left alone while another is made much of; we may be faced with open or hidden criticism which we surmise or discover by accident ¯ . . our meager talent, our character, our health, our appearance." (Vermeerscb, Miles Christi Jesu, 151, 154.) Thomas ~ Kempis says: "What pleaseth others shall prosper, what is pleasing to thee shall not succeed. What others say shall be harkened to; what thou sayest shall be reckoned as nought. Others shall ask and shall re-ceive; thou shalt ask, and not obtain, Others shall be great in the esteem of men; about thee nothing shall be said. To others this or that shall be committed, but thou shalt be accounted as of no use." (Imitation, III, 49, 4-5.) 153 C. A HERBST Reuiev3 for Religious I offer myself to our Lord for all these things. This m~y be .a general offering of futurables but they may be actuated at any mo-ment. Perhaps I am living with some of them right now. At any rate this offering shows a habitual disposition consonant with the third mode of humility, and there lies hidden in it not a little faith and love. When I am passed over or slighted or snubbed, I hope I may be able to bear it at least patiently. I make a great advance when I come to accept such things willingly and even with love for the love of Him who "loved me and delivered himself for me." Wl'ien I come to accept them with joy and even enthusiasm, glad that the Father has placed me with His Son, I 'have travelled far. This offering of myself for humbling things and the patient, loving, joyous acceptance of them should lead me to have the wish to have the desire for humiliations. "For though I burn not with so great desire as Thy specially devout servants, yet, by Why grace, I have a desire of this same greatly inflamed desire, praying and wishing that I may be made partaker with all such fervent lovers, and be numbered in their holy company." (Imitation, IV, 14, 3.) From the desire of the desire we ought, by God's grace, soon to pass on to "desire to be made little of, neglected, passed over, have little influence, even be regarded as suspect, be criticised, reproved, ridi-culed. We ought to have no desire for first place, for the higher offices . . . association with the more wealthy, the more aristocratic, or the leading men, no desire for the larger cities." (Coemans-Germ-ing, Commentartj, n. 251.) This, in a small way, is "to desire to be rated as worthless and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." No motive but love is strong enough to carry one through to the attainment of so high an ideal. Without love even martyrdom of blood is to no purpose. "And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profit~th me nothing" (I Cor. 13:3). It is the same with bloodless martyrdom. And it must be a love of imitation and companionship. "With Me," Christ the King invites. "With Christ I am nailed to the Cross" (Gal. 2:19). "In what place soever thou shalt be, my lord, O king, either in death, or in life, there will thy servant be" (II Kings 15:21). Love always finds a way. I surpass desire when I am on the watch for opportunities and actually seek out occasions for practicing the third mode of hu-mility. There are always the humbler tasks to which no one pays 154 Ma~!, 1955 MARY AND JOSEPH FIND ,JESUS' any attention and to which are attached no praise or glory. Others will gladly let me have them. I can deliberately pass by positi6ns of influence and authority. I can accuse myself of my faults in a loud and clear voice. It may be more humbling dutifully to tell another his faults than to be told my own. The dependence ~ind humility implied in ~sking a permission, especially when I may be refused, is precious. It is sometimes all right deliberately to fail to show off my superior knowledge or ability. Letting others have the nicer place or things and allowing them to pass ahead of me is Christlike, too. In confession I can mention circumstances and motives connected with my faults that will be very humiliating. And so on. Love will find many other ways. This is the positive, aggressive, strong, earnest, eager, enthusiastic way "to be clothed with His garments and livery." Mary and ,Joseph Find ,Jesus Paul Dent, S.d. EVEN Mary and Joseph cannot find You when You choose to be hidden from them. But You mercifully choose to let them find You, too, lest I despair of ever seeing You face to face, 0 Jesus. Mary leaves Joseph for the women's court, thinking prayerfully, "Quam dilecta tabernacula tua, Domine. Concupiscit et del~cit anima roea in atriis tuis.'" A mother passes by, followed by her boy. How like Jesus he is! Mary looks around at her side to compare the two, and He is not there! Disappointed, she thinks immediately, "He must have stayed with Joseph this time. How fortunate Joseph is to have Jesus with him! How unworthy I am to have Jesus with me! With all my heart I want Jesus with me, but still I do not want Joseph to be without Him. I shall be patient and spend the day in loving hope of seeing Jesus at the end." Thus the day passes in loving hope, and it ends in disappointment. For Jesus is not with Joseph either, and now they both bare lost Him--neither of whom had ever lost Him before! But Mary loses no time in self-pity, much less in blaming Joseph. For quite simply Joseph would not be careless about Jesus. Mary realizes at once she is confronted with a deliberate act of God, a 155 PAUL DENT mystery she does not now understand but which God will make dear to her when He wills. Meanwhile they must go immediately to look for Jesus, calmly, hopefully, not frantically. They must go prayerfully, too. God guide their footsteps. Then there come three days, and perhaps nights, too, of looking for Jesus; and it is a search that is con[ident. For He knows of it and will reveal Himself to them when God wills. Mary and Joseph seek Jesus humbl: , too, realizing they are not worthy to find Him, much less to keep Him with them in their own home. They are persevering also in their search, for Jesus, for duty and love drive them on continuously. Duty obliges the world's best parents to give the world's best care to the world's best Child. The love driv-ing them on is that of creation's greatest lover--Mary Immaculate! --and that of her all but equal--glorious St. Joseph !--for Jesus Christ Himself, beloved Son of God. "'Nec lingua valet dicere, nec littera exprimere, expertus potest credere quid sit desum diligere." Or, as convert Father Caswall worded it, "Nor tongue nor pen can show the love of Jesus. What it is, none but His loved ones know." So Mary and Joseph, who have experienced more than others what it is to love Jesus, seek Him lovingly, so lovingly that all they think, choose, say, do, or suffer is just one thing--seeking Jesus lost. If all I think, choose, say, do, or suffer is just one thing, the one thing necessary--a seeking of Jesus lost or of Jesus never even heard of amid the dust and turmoil of the incalculable billions of thoughts, choices, words, actions, and sufferings of the innumerable billions of human beings of the past, present, and future--then truly I am in the company of Mary and Joseph; truly we three are seeking Jesus, and truly not only we three, but very many others whom we help, will find Jesus foreveL Then we shall all sing forever with new understanding and inexpressible joy "'quid sit desum diligece--what it be to love Jesus!" And those other words of this great and tender hymn of the Ages of Faith, this "'desu Dulcis Memoria," will resound forever as our arisen and immortal voices sing sweeter than earth's loveliest ~ing-ing, "Quocumque loco fuero JESUM MECUM DESIDERO! Quam laetus cure int;enero! QUAM FELIX CUM TENUERO~.--In whatsoever place I be, Jesus, I want You there with me. When You I find, how happy I! How blessed when I have You by!" 156 THE APOSTOLATE OF CHASTITY. By Ferdinand Valentine, .O.P. P ). 245. The Newman Press,.Westm~nster, Maryland, 1954. $3.25. ; The vow of chastity is a subject which comes in for much dis-cussion in modern ascetical literature. This interest may be con-trasted with an attitude which prevailed in days gone by that the vow of chastity needed no explanation. The need for an explana-tion of the vow of chastity may differ from age to age and place to place; but there is no doubt, I believe, that religious may profit from a thorough and competent treatment of chastity such as Father Valentine offers. The A)ostolat'e of Chastit~l is both broader and narrower in scope than its ~itle would indicate. It is narrower in that it treats only of the apostolate of religious women. It is broader in its con-cern with other aspects of this vocation. The first chapter, for in-stance, deals with the problem of prcJmoting vocations. Superiors will find some very prudent suggestions concerning the pr.oper at-titude to be taken .toward vocations. The second chapter then deals with some problems of psychological fitness. The rest of the first section goes on to discuss the problerfi of religious adaptation tO modern times. The author dbes not take .up the problem 'of chastity proper until the beginning of the second s.ection of the book. He intro-duces this section with a catechetical treatment of the vow and" virtue of chastity,; and then goes on to what appear~ .tO be the heart of the book--a treatment of the apostolic aspqct. "9.f .chastity. The theme of this section ,would seem to be' that 't.,h~ ~orfian will find in virginal chastity "not an asceticism which rFstrains and represses her natural gifts as woman and mother, but rat~er'.their spiritual elevation and fulfillment . " This is certainly a healthy and a positiye attitu,d,e toward chas-tity, and one which it would be well for religious .women to .under-stand clearly. But there is a tendency among.modi~rn authors to justify virginity by try!.ng to make it look as much like ma~rri.age as possible. There is certainly room for analogy" between perpetual chastity and marital chastity, but there is also a danger to be re.ck-oned with. perpetual chastity, from whatever angle you .yiew it, 157 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious involves the renunciation of marriage and haarital privileges. There is a certain negative.aspect of religious chastity, then, which cannot be overlooked, and which it would be foolhardy to ignore. There are forces for which the religious life offers no outlet whether direct or by ways of so-called sublimation. Herein lies the sacrifice of the religious. So, while one must condemn the morbid fear of sex and sin which cripples the apostolate of some religious, one must leave room for a healthy fear. This fear will be based on a clear under-standing of the religious renunciation and the difficulty of controll-ing the forces thus held in check. Such fear, far from doing damage, will protect religious chastity and set a safe limit to the love that may be practised in religion. I believe that the author was aware of all this, but it may be that he thought it beyond the scope of his work to stress it. But religious women will find the book inspiring and stimulating, though at times difficult .reading.-~JOHN R.CONNERY, S.J. FATIMA IN THE LIGHT OF HISTORY. By Costa Brochado. Translated and edited by George Boehrer. Pp. 231. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, 1954. $4.50. With rare common sense the author of this latest book on the apparitions of Our Lady at Fatima has limited himself to historical analysis, and left supernatural elements to the competence of trained theologians. The translation is lucid and forceful and makes intensely interesting the somewhat tedious chronicle of Portugese history. With inspiring results, the unconquerable Catholic heritage of the country is traced th, rough centuries of political and religious up-heaval. The tragic, yet factual and objective, narration of the havoc initiated by the Marquis of Pombal, and forwarded by the anti-religious iddals of Masonry, reveals a tremendous need for the spir-itual revitalization of Portugal which providentially succeeded the apparitions of Our Lady of the Rosary. Pombal, Mr. Brochado as-serts, was ultimately responsible for shatteiing the religious unity of the country. By such planned offensives as the banishment of the Sbciety of Jesus, severance of relations with the Holy Se~, and open-ing the country to the destructive forces of Protestantism and Latin Masonry, Pombal made it possible for the Triangle to supplant the Cross in Portugal. Assaults on Churches, exile of prelates, state control of religion, secularization of schools, profanations, robber-ies, arson, murder--this is the pitiful picture of the country as it agonized and labored to preserve its Faith against the .enemies of 158 Mag, 1955 BOOK REVIEWS God and all things Catholic. And yet, the influence of the Blessed Virgin was never absent. Two centuries before the definition of the dogma, Portugal had consecrated herself to the Immaculate Conception and had taken a solemn oath to defend and propagate belief in Mary's perpetual sinlessness. Furthermore, the rosary had been for centuries the lead-ing Marian devotion of the portugese people, culminating in a ver-itable "crusade of the Rosary". in the midst of,frightful persecutions immediately preceding the apparitions of 1917. Portugal had not abandoned her patroness in the hour of trial, and our Lady did not forget her heroic fidelity. Since the events of Fatima, the Church's enemies have suffered great defeats in Portugal. The rapid revival of faith and hope in the hearts of the Portugese people is perhaps the surest sign that the Virgin has again triumphed by crushing the head of the serpent. .The reader of this book may feel, however, that Mr. Brochado has taken too local a view of the significance of Fatima. Despite his purpose, as stated in tbe translator's preface, " to "place those events [the apparitions] in their historical setting and to consider their efl:ects on subsequent bistor~l,'" (italics mine) Mr. Brochado barely hints at any world implications. He deliberately avoids all reference to subsequent developments, such as the state-ments of Lucia which involve our Lady's desire for devotion to her Immaculate Heart, the First Saturdays, the conversion of Rus-sia, or the vision of hell with its threat to sinners the world over. Are these developments sufficiently historical to merit mention? The question is admittedly disputed. But inthis reviewer's opinion, the Holy Father's consecration of the world to the Immaculate Heart in 1942 and of Russia in 1952 has far-reaching repercussions, at least implicitly connected with the events of Fatima, which should not be ignored. It is noteworthy that Manoel Cardozo, in his pref-ace to Mr. Brochado's book, also seems to have sensed this lack of perspective: "Fortunately for us, Our Lady did not appear for the exclusive benefit of the Portugese (though they were favored above all others)."--VINCENT J. FORDE, S.J. SO SHORT A DAY. By Sisfer M. Eulalia Teresa, S.N.J.M. Pp. 281. Mc- Mullen Books, Inc., New York, 1954. $3.00. This book is the story of Mother Marie-Rose, the foundress of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. Into the texture of this biography is woven the. inseparable 159 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reuiew for Religious story of the beginnings of the congregation of Mother Marie-Rose and-i~s first.establishment at Longueuil, Quebec. It has been said that the most objective history, and consequently the best, is written by an author who is indifferent to his subject. Obviously, Sister M. Eulalia Teresa is not indifferent to the.subject of her book. (we would be disappointed if she were) ; and it is al-most as obvious that in places she lets her heart supply for his-" torical documentation. This, it seems, is the chief temptation of hagiographers. It must be said, however, that an indifferent author could not have caught the spirit of this foundress, could not have made it come alive as the author does. If the picture is overpainted in places, it is withal a vivid and inspiring picture. If ~he book is slow to take the reader's interest, it could well be due to the character portrayal and absence of conflict in the firs~ sections. The characters, are almost all painted in the same bright superlatives, and the st6ry lags for want of that conflict, internal or external, from which great souls emerge. Patience on the reader's part in waiting for character portrayal of deeper colors and better perspective is well rewarded. There is a new and welcome candor in the descriptions of the young pioneer sisters whom God called to the congregation of Mother Marie-Ros~ in its early days. Neither can it be said that the second part of the book is v~ithout conflict and the impact of drama:" The trials and persecutions to which the nascent coflgregation was subjected and the vibrant faith by which they were met are the heart of a ver~ real drama. So Short a Day makes this drama, enacted over a hundred years. ago, come back to life. The accomplishment of making history live again, of capturirig the pioneer spirit of this congregation and its saintly foundress is to be highly praised. Mother Marie-Rose died on her thirty-eighth, birthday, only six years after her congregation had been born. To:day her spirit. lives on in the 3,725 professed religious of her congregation and the 252 schools which her sisters direct. So short~ a day, so great a legacy.--JOHN POWELL, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BEAUCHESNE ET SES FILS, 117 Rue de Rennes, Paris. Initiation a. l'Oraison. Par Piere Brunet. His long experience BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS as ' professor at ,the seminary at Nancy has convince~l the author that most books on prayer do not meet the particular .problems,of seminarians fihd the secular clergy since they are written by and for religious. This book embodies his efforts to remedy that situation. Secular priests should find the book particularly helpful since it is written by one who knows their needs and problems. Pp. 326. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. The Catholic Church and You. By William 3. Grace, S.d. 7Fhe Inquiry Forum at the 3esuit Church in Milwauk'ee, begun in 1945, has attained something of an international reputation for the large mea

Part one of an interview with Aldo and Anna Mazzaferro. Topics include: Family history. How his parents came to the United States from Italy. How his parents were married and moved to Leominster, MA. Aldo's education and memories from Leominster High School and Holy Cross. Aldo's work at the DuPont company. What life was like during World War II. Aldo's work history. How Aldo and Anna were married. In 1953, Aldo started his CPA business in Leominster and Fitchburg. The different clients he had. His work at Art Plastics and the plastics business in general. His sons joined the plastics business. ; 1 INTERVIEWER: October 4, 2011. This is Linda [Rosenwan], with the Center for Italian Culture at Fitchburg State College with Aldo and Anna Mazzaferro's house, 575 West Street in Leominster. So maybe we should begin, Aldo, if you could just give me some personal information regarding when you were born and where. SPEAKER 1: Very definitely. But I must say that October 4th, 1955, our second son was born. Today is his birthday. SPEAKER 2: That's right. SPEAKER 1: But getting back to me, I was born on November 11th, 1921, in Leominster, Massachusetts. And I went to the public schools here, graduated from Leominster High School 1939. And I went on to Holy Cross College after graduation from Leominster High School. INTERVIEWER: Okay. Were your parents both born in Leominster? SPEAKER 1: No, they were not. They were both born in Italy. My dad was born in the province of Abruzzo in a town called [Scafa]. And my mother was born in Abruzzo on the Adriatic Sea in a town called Pescara. And my dad was born in 1880, and my mother was born in 1882. INTERVIEWER: And when did your father come to this country? SPEAKER 1: My father came to this country, I would say, around 1900. In the winter, they lived in the Bronx within New York. [Unintelligible - 00:01:52] Ellis Island. He lived in the Bronx. INTERVIEWER: And your mother? SPEAKER 1: And my mother arrived, I would say, probably 1902, 1903. And she also went to live in the Bronx, New York with her sister. And her sister was married, had a family, and so my mother came over. And prior to my mother's coming over here in the Bronx, my dad and my mother conducted a romance by way of correspondence through letters. They didn't know each other. So he paid for -- my dad paid for my mother's passage here.2 SPEAKER 2: Your dad boarding at… SPEAKER 1: Yeah. My dad was a boarder. In those days it was frequent -- frequently, the immigrants would come over and they would go to places where they have some relatives or friends. And they were taken in as boarders. My dad was a boarder at my mother's sister's house or apartment in New York City. It is how my dad saw pictures of my mother and how it all started. SPEAKER 2: Sent for her to come from Italy to America. SPEAKER 1: Yeah, he paid for her passage. INTERVIEWER: So they followed. SPEAKER 1: So they courted, married a couple of days later. SPEAKER 2: It was all done that way, the parents would pick a mate for their son or their daughter. In fact, I think it was done on the next generation, too. I have a cousin that was married that way. She lived in Italy, and her husband lived in New York. And they sent for one another and met through pictures and photographs. INTERVIEWER: And did the female part of this arrangement, did she have much to say about it? SPEAKER 1: I'm sure she did. I'm sure that -- my mother is a very strong-willed person, and she did what -- she preferred -- to do it, apparently, it was a great attraction between my parents, and -- it wasn't pre-arranged. It was sustained correspondent with each other and having interests, and it materialized when they met it New York. INTERVIEWER: Interesting. So what brought them to Leominster? SPEAKER 1: Well, they had their children in New York. They're nine -- they had nine children. I believe -- let's see, four or five were born in the Bronx, New York. And my dad wound up in a basement apartment in New York and ran the apartment building for the landlord. And as part of the rent, he lives rent-free with his family. And it came about that my mother's brother, Horrace, came to Leominster and found that there was work here at the DuPont 3 Company. And so he sent news back to the Bronx, and so my dad came along. He got a job at the DuPont Company in Leominster, and he came here with all his family. He works here I don't know for how long a period of time. Let's say around 1950 or 1970, and he brought his family to New York and settled down in Leominster. And they settled at 53 [unintelligible - 00:06:00], and that particular house was owned by one of the mayors of Leominster, Mayor Burdett, and they rented that house. It was a cottage with three bedrooms upstairs and with some land [unintelligible - 00:06:17]. But they eventually purchased that property after a few years. INTERVIEWER: So what kind of work did he do at DuPont? SPEAKER 1: Well he was a -- not a laborer. A benchman, I would believe, at the DuPont Company. But it wasn't to his liking, so he left DuPont Company and went to work for the Leominster Fuel Company and became the delivery person, delivered coal. The Leominster Fuel Company, in those days had the [unintelligible - 00:07:00], and they were always delivered. Those were the days they really have oil burners. And so frankly, our homes, all the boilers used coal. INTERVIEWER: Did you ever go with him to make a delivery? SPEAKER 1: No, no. No, I never did. I was not quite three years old when my dad died. INTERVIEWER: That must have been tremendous hardship for your mother. So your family decided to stay in Leominster? SPEAKER 1: Oh, yes. Yeah. Yes. After my father died, the ninth child was born a couple of months later. Well, the family stayed in Leominster. My oldest brother was probably 16 or 17. He left high school and went to work to support the family. And then each brother, you know, took his turn and went to work and supported the family. And one of my brothers -- I have five brothers ahead 4 of me, and only one was able to complete high school. And I was the sixth brother, and I was able to complete high school. INTERVIEWER: And are you the only one that attended college? SPEAKER 1: Yes, I'm the only one who attended college. INTERVIEWER: Would you like to stop for a minute? SPEAKER 1: Okay. All right. Well as I grew up, without my dad, my mother always impressed upon me the fact that my dad long ago wanted his children to go to college, to get a good education. She was quite disappointed that it wasn't happening. So I guess I was determined to do that, go to college, so that my mother would be happy. So when I was in junior high school I took the classical course, and in most days, junior high school went through the ninth grade. So when I was in ninth grade I questioned whether or not I had the financial resources to go to college. So I determined that there was no way that I could go to college. We don't have enough funds. So when I went to Leominster high school in my sophomore year, I switched from the classical course to college course to the commercial course. And then during my sophomore year at Leominster high school, I trained my mind [unintelligible - 00:10:07] determination that I wanted to go to college bad enough that I would find some way to go. And so my junior/senior year, I switched back to the college course in Leominster High School, and in those days it was a three-year high school, you had to have a minimum of 40 credits a year to pass. We have to have 120 credits to graduate, but because of the fact that I had to cram two college preparation years in my junior/senior year, I was required to take extra courses. So I had hardly any -- I don't think I had any study periods in my senior year. I recall only having one [unintelligible - 00:10:54] period and some semester not having [unintelligible - 00:10:59]. So as a result of that I took a great deal of courses at 5 Leominster High School. I had one year of business courses in commercial, which helped me later on in college. In my junior/senior year I had the college courses. So I was graduated with 151 credits from Leominster High School. We were only required 120, 125. The average credits that they got when we graduate, probably 125. I had 151, and a lot of course were behind me. INTERVIEWER: Did you have to work while you were in high school? SPEAKER 1: Yes, while I was in junior high school, actually junior high school, I got a job working at a Chinese laundry. I learned how to man load shirts, [unintelligible - 00:11:51] the collar, the collar, [unintelligible - 00:11:54] the cuffs, and to iron the shirts. So I learned -- I did very well. I worked at various Chinese laundries in Leominster, Fitchburg on Saturdays, especially. Also my high school years, I started to work at a Chinese laundry while I was in junior high school. And before the Chinese laundry career, I shined shoes at Monument Square in Leominster on Fridays and Saturdays. In most days everyone went downtown. On Saturdays, it's quite crowded downtown, and I did okay shining shoes. INTERVIEWER: I bet you could bank quite a bit of money doing that. SPEAKER 1: I don't have a bank. INTERVIEWER: You don't have a bank. You gave it to your mother? SPEAKER 1: There wasn't enough to go around. I can remember one time when I was in junior high school, I believe, it was during the Depression days in 1930s, and corduroy breeches were very popular in those days. They are the corduroy trousers that went down just below your knees, just below your knees, they had a little [unintelligible - 00:13:12], and they would walk, and they would try to meet that. Everybody at school would have a pair of corduroy breeches. I never had any. INTERVIEWER: Did you wish you did?6 SPEAKER 1: Well, I pushed my older brother Tony, who worked at the DuPont Company—he used to work four to twelve—and you know, just begged him to buy me a pair. He did finally buy me a pair, but I don't know what it costs. It costs less than a dollar, I think, in those days. And I was very proud that I had it. INTERVIEWER: And when you went to Holy Cross, what year was that? SPEAKER 1: Well, in 1939, I graduated -- I graduated in Leominster High School in 1939 in June. I went to Holy Cross in September 1943. And I was admitted to Holy Cross on a scholarship work program, and I was required to pay about one-third of the tuition. In those days, tuition was $280, and I was required to pay $100 of that tuition. And the balance I was required to earn at a rate of approximately 35 cents an hour credit working in the college library. INTERVIEWER: Thirty five cents… SPEAKER 1: … an hour would be credited towards… INTERVIEWER: To the $100 or the $200? SPEAKER 1: … to the 180 balance. That's what I was required to do. So I worked in my freshman year at the college library, normally evenings from about six o'clock to nine o'clock five and six evenings a week, unless there was some college event that I couldn't do it. Basically I did that all during my freshmen year, I worked at the college library, even some Saturdays and Sundays. In those days we went to college, we had classes on Saturday mornings until noontime. So, college was six days a week way back in the '30s and '40s. INTERVIEWER: So you lived on campus then? SPEAKER 1: No, I did not. I lived -- in my freshman year, I lived in Worcester with my older sister. She was married and lived in Worcester, and I stayed with her and I took the bus. And in my freshman year, I commuted, went to Holy Cross. And I lived with her in my 7 freshman year. And then from my sophomore year on, I stayed in Leominster. I lived in Leominster and I commuted daily to Holy Cross. In those days class started at nine o'clock in the morning and ran until 3:30. And then lab would be in the afternoon until 5:30, six o'clock. INTERVIEWER: And then you worked. SPEAKER 1: [Unintelligible - 00:16:20]? INTERVIEWER: No, that's fine. We're going to edit this anyway. Then you would work until nine o'clock at night? SPEAKER 1: No. Well, yes, in the college library. So I'd get home at -- in my freshman year I'd probably get back at 9:30, 10:00 to my sister's house. That was during my freshmen year. That was quite a program. I was gone all the time. But I didn't look upon it -- I shifted to something that had to be done. So I might say that during my freshman year, that the library, right after the football season was over, that one of the -- my good friend in class that played in the college band showed up at the library to work and told me that he was on the same scholarship work program that I was on, and that he had to play in the band and then work at the library to earn his credits. And he told me that next year, because he was in the college band, it would not be necessary for him to work at the library, just be in the college band he would get enough credits so he wouldn't have to work in the library. Just play in the college band. So I didn't know one note of music, and I heard about this. So in those days, they have the WTA Recreation Week, and they [unintelligible - 00:18:04]. They were offering the class on how to play musical instrument at the [unintelligible - 00:18:10] in Worcester. And this was during my freshman year. And so there was a Professor Castana who taught music, and I decided that I wanted to learn to play the cornet so that I could fit into the college 8 band in my sophomore year. So I approached him and told him that I had not -- I'm not looking to be a music major. I just wanna know enough music so that I could play well enough to play the Star-Spangled Banner and probably the football march and some things like that, and national anthem so that I could be admitted into the college band. So I took music lessons in the spring of my freshman year from about, I'd say from January to May in Worcester while I lived with my sister. So I used to go down there, so I'm busy weekends, and whenever I could fit it in, sometimes during the afternoon. INTERVIEWER: So was that a success? Did you get admitted? SPEAKER 1: Yes, yes. I came back after my freshman year was over in the summer of 1940, there was a Professor [unintelligible - 00:19:40] that taught music, and I finished my musical education with him. And I got to play the cornet, and I told him the same thing. I just want him to know that I wasn't gonna do a major in music. So then in my freshmen year, I was admitted to the college band. And I played the second cornet, second trumpet. So I knew all the [unintelligible - 00:20:18]. In a couple of weeks, I learned all the songs that have to be played, probably 12 or 15. And I played in the second cornet. I didn't require the music sheet on the lyre. And so because I could play by heart all the numbers, they placed me outside of the band. When you go on the outside so that you could [unintelligible - 00:20:49] the person on the outside will all be going [unintelligible - 00:20:54]. So that's where I wound up with the college band. INTERVIEWER: Do you still play? SPEAKER 1: No, I don't. I quitted after my junior year, and I haven't played. I'm not a musician.9 SPEAKER 2: Wasn't there a story where you started to usher because you found you got more credits being in the usher than you were playing in a band? SPEAKER 1: Well, what happened was half of my freshmen year, I was able to find a job with the DuPont Company. And in the summer after my freshman year, I worked on the 12-8 shift at the DuPont Company. Then when school started in the fall in my sophomore year, I was able to continue working at the DuPont Company. In order to keep my job with them, I was required to work 82 hours a week, and I would be considered a permanent employee. And if I put in 32 hours or more per week, I would be entitled to a two-week vacation period and paid holidays. So that's what I did in my sophomore, junior, and senior years. While I was at Holy Cross I had a full-time job working at the DuPont Company. My normal schedule after the football season was over, that I had to work on a Saturday from 4-12. I would get 8 hours. Then on a Sunday I would go to mass at 7 o'clock, and I would be at the DuPont Company from 8 o'clock, and I would work 8-4. So on a Saturday and Sunday, I got 16 hours, and I have the rest of the week to get in another 16 or more hours. So the way the classes were at Holy Cross on a Tuesday and a Thursday, the class schedule was light. I would have I think two classes at night on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was normally to class about 1:30 to two o'clock and it was all done class on two o'clock. So I would get back to Leominster at three o'clock, four o'clock, usually five or six o'clock, and I would work from 6-9 and 7-10, something like that. Or even sometimes 7-12. And once in a while, if I was up to it, I would even go beyond 12 o'clock at work. If I have an exam the next day I would probably work until… INTERVIEWER: I guess I'm wondering when did you study? I think…10 SPEAKER 1: Going to see if I'm coming too strong enough [unintelligible - 00:24:06]. Ah, let's see. When did I study? I didn't study as much as I would've wanted to. In order to make up for the fact that I couldn't study as much as I wanted to, when I was in class I really focused on what the professor was talking about. I would not permit myself to be distracted by what was going on in class. I just focused right on that professor and tried to understand what they were trying to put across. And I think that saved me a lot of -- I did my homework, less consuming. But I studied between classes, and I actually used to study on the job at the DuPont Company. I had a job running an automatic comb-polishing machine, was about 40 or 50 feet long. And I sat at the beginning of the machine, and said comb fell into a belt. And after a while you'll get so used to it you didn't have to look at what you're doing. You just grab a handful of combs, and one by one you would put those combs down the belt about a half an inch a pack. And you didn't have to watch it too carefully. So I used to set up the machine with a book in my lap if I have some studying to do. So I used to get some studying done that way. And the… INTERVIEWER: And what was your major? SPEAKER 1: My major at Holy Cross was economics, Bachelor of Science in Economics. But that's when I enrolled there. But then in the senior year, they changed the name of the degree to Business Administration. Actually, my concentration there was in Economics, actually. I took the accounting -- the accounting program was required for the first two years. And then after the junior and senior year, then you decide whether or not to continue on the accounting later on. I decided to get into economics, applied economics. INTERVIEWER: What was it like going to school during the war?11 SPEAKER 1: Well, it wasn't really until December 7, 1941, the day of Pearl Harbor, that I think that the [unintelligible - 00:26:52] heavily involved in. There was a -- I don't exactly know when. I don't think that the interest in following through -- there would seem to be a "Let's get it over with. I'm gonna be in the service anyway. Let's get education over with," and everything was accelerated. After 1942, they dispensed with the summer vacation from college. Normally you would get out of college in first week of June. We went right through, started our senior year in June of 1942. We finished our -- we finished our junior year in May of 1942. It took just a few weeks, two days before we started the senior year, went right through the summer. [Unintelligible - 00:28:17] a week down to July 4th, holiday. It was like that right through the summer of 1942. And with the accelerated program, we graduated February 1943 where we should have been graduated in June of 1943. And there was gas rationing in those days, and travel was my priority. So it was difficult to travel. INTERVIEWER: At that time you were traveling back and forth at Leominster? SPEAKER 1: I was commuting back and forth. INTERVIEWER: So how did you do that? SPEAKER 1: We have enough gas. It was rationed. We have enough gas to go to school. But because of the travel restriction, they cancelled our graduation exercises. So we had no graduation exercises in 1943, and we received our diplomas through the mail. I might say that about traveling, it wasn't commuting back and forth that was the worst to Holy Cross from Leominster that my brother and myself, in my sophomore year, bought a 1929 Packard that I could use and was gonna use later on in this business. So when I went back to school in September of my sophomore year with the Packard, I had about four, five other students as passengers, and that helped to defer the cost of traveling gas and oil back and forth to Worcester. 12 And this Packard broke down after the second week that I was in college. I had to tow it back to Leominster. So over the weekend there was an old 1934 Packard that was for sale, so my brother purchased this 1934 Packard for $50. And I used that, but it consumed a lot of gasoline. I probably got six or seven or eight miles a gallon at the most. But gasoline was not expensive in those days. You can probably get -- I think we were paying 12 to 15 cents a gallon of gasoline in 1940, 1941. So… INTERVIEWER: So it sounds as if your brothers gave out a lot for the family. SPEAKER 1: Well, I always -- they helped, definitely. When I need a couple of dollars here and there, and usually they would let me have a dollar or two if I need it. But then as I worked at the DuPont Company and got in, got my time, especially in the summer, I worked full time. I worked 40 hours a week and probably even 48 or 50. I put in plenty of time. And then the two-week vacation period that I got paid for, I actually worked at the DuPont Company, so I developed this sufficient income stream to carry, to support myself. INTERVIEWER: Did anyone else go to college from your family? SPEAKER 1: No. Not anyone. No. INTERVIEWER: Again, going back to the war. Did you have to serve? SPEAKER 1: No, I didn't. I was eligible for limited service. So I wasn't eligible for the draft until I was graduated from college. In those days I believe all the college students were permitted to finish their college career as long as they are in good standing. And so I was eligible for limited service. First time that the draft board called upon me, I went down and they didn't need anyone for limited service. And at that time I was working for Peat Marwick Mitchell Company. This was in 1943, and I was involved in auditing in the British West Indies, Central America, Northern South America. There was security involved in auditing, and I was doing it, and it 13 involved auditing for the United States government. And so I never got into the service. INTERVIEWER: Is this company in Leominster? SPEAKER 1: No. Peat Marwick Mitchell is one of the big three accounting firms in those days. There were Peat Marwick Mitchell, Price Waterhouse, [unintelligible - 00:33:52], companies like that. And today, Peat Marwick Mitchell is now known as KPGM, one of the big, large international firms. So I went to work for them in November of 1943. INTERVIEWER: And where was it located? SPEAKER 1: They have -- well, they have had their worldwide headquarters in London, in Scotland, in New York, throughout the United States, and I worked at the Boston office in the Worcester branch. I had assignments. I went to work with them in November. We audited companies like Melville Shoe, which became the Thom McAn shoe stores, the General Electric company, American Optical, [unintelligible - 00:34:50] Electronics… INTERVIEWER: Did you stay in Leominster and commute? SPEAKER 1: Yes. I probably -- much of the time I was with Peat Marwick Mitchell, I was traveling. And for instance, we would go to Southbridge and audit the books of American Optical; that would take about six weeks, seven weeks. And we would stay at the Columbia Hotel in Southbridge, Massachusetts all week long. So I would come home on weekends. It was like that. We audited the General Electric Company in Pittsville, Massachusetts with the same arrangement. We would stay at the hotel. There was lot of traveling away from -- in fact, in 1944, I was on assignment to Central America from Labor Day to Thanksgiving. So I was away and conducting audits for the United States Commercial Company, that supplies corporation that was part of the security that Peat Marwick Mitchell was involved in during the war. There was also, 14 in Panama, there was a tropical radio and telegraph company, which was very important for communication. That was part of the auditing contract that Peat Marwick Mitchell had with the United States government. But the big account that was prevalent throughout those areas was United Food Company, which was like a government unto itself. It had schools. It supported the schools. It had its own schools, education, railroads throughout the Central America. INTERVIEWER: And how long did you go with that company? SPEAKER 1: I was with Peat Marwick Mitchell until November of 1947. No, December, end of December, until January 1948 I was with Peat Marwick Mitchell. I left Peat Marwick Mitchell and went to work with Baker and Baker. It was another CPA firm out of [Worcester in] New York. And one of the assignments I had with them, the longest, was down in New York City working at 90 Broad Street, and we conducted investigation of the New York Waterworks. Investigation involves contracts and transactions that dated back to the early 1900s when they installed the water supply from New York City in Long Island. So I worked in the fraud investigation regarding a case that was going on. And as I lived in New York from -- I think I was assigned there from the end of July of 1948, July or August of 1948, and I was there until November of '48. We stayed at the St. George Hotel or St. Charles Hotel in Long Island. I would take the subway to Wall Street to 90 Broad Street where we were working on the audit. INTERVIEWER: Okay, and how long were you with that company? SPEAKER 1: I was with them I would say until 1950. And then I went to work -- one of the accounts that Baker and Baker had was the Dollar Greeting Cards, which was located in Fitchburg, Massachusetts. And I had conducted the audit of Dollar Greeting Cards for Baker and Baker Company. And then you recall there was a recession in 15 1949, and so Baker and Baker had to let much of its staff go. And I was one of the staff that was let go in probably August or September of 1949. SPEAKER 2: In May. SPEAKER 1: Well, they told me they were gonna let me go in May, but then after our wedding we came back, and they told me they're gonna keep me on. So that's an interesting story if you want me to tell you a little bit about it. INTERVIEWER: I was just about to ask you when you got married. 1949? SPEAKER 2: May 1949. He was unemployed. SPEAKER 1: Well, let me tell you the story is that that we had our wedding date set up May 7, 1949. It was two or three weeks before the wedding, Baker and Baker notified me that they're gonna have to let me go during my vacation, because of the, you know, the recession. So I didn't mention that to her. And so we were married. I think we were honeymooning in Canada, we went up to Canada, I said, well this is a safe place to tell her. So I let her know that she had married an unemployed person but not to worry about it because things will work out okay. And so we got back, and Baker and Baker kept me on for another two months, and I land the Dollar Greeting Cards audit after that. And then when they had to leave Baker and Baker, and so they came about the Dollar Greeting Card. Dollar Greeting Card needed assistants in the accounting department, the special projects that they had going on. So I was hired. So I left them. I was hired by Dollar Greeting cards. So I left Baker and Baker on a Friday, and on Monday I showed up at the Dollar Greeting Cards Company. And I worked there on special projects, and probably important projects. I worked onwards on assignments that determine the tax advantages and disadvantages of transferring Dollar Greeting Cards from being a Massachusetts corporation to a 16 North Hampshire corporation. That was one of the assignments I had, and I made the recommendation that it would be a great tax saving by relocating to North Hampshire. And so shortly after I made that report, I left. I left Dollar Greeting cards. I passed the CPA exam in November of 1949. Yes. And so it's 1950, I left Dollar Greeting Cards, and I went to work for Colorado Fuel and Iron Corporation that had the large steel manufacturing company. They had headquarters in Buffalo, Colorado. The eastern division was headquarters and offices at 585 Madison Avenue, and I worked out of the New York office. And my position with them is -- I was named assistant to the chief plant department for the Eastern division for of Colorado Fuel and Iron. And it had various divisions, it had the [unintelligible - 00:44:06] Iron and Steel division, which was located in New England. And while I was an auditor with Peat Marwick Mitchell, I ran -- Colorado Fuel was one of the clients of Peat Marwick Mitchell. So I ran the audit of the [unintelligible - 00:44:24] Steel division in Worcester, Clinton, and [unintelligible - 00:44:27], Massachusetts. And over this part there was a problem. There was an accounting problem regarding the inventory problem, which was quite serious, that I was involved in. And as a result of the examinations that I had to make, I got to meet the treasurer of the Colorado Fuel, [unintelligible - 00:44:54] from New York City during the course of this audit, which sort of took place in 1947, when I was auditing the [unintelligible - 00:45:07] Steel division. So we finally settled our differences and we certified the statements for Colorado Fuel and Iron. And at the end of the meetings that we had, the treasurer mentioned to me that most fellas in public accounting where I was, after four, five years, they tire up. They wanna find a place where they can have a career with a great company. And he said to me, think of Colorado Fuel 17 and Iron when you're ready to leave public accounting. So when I was with Dollar Greeting Cards in 1949 or 1950, I didn't see that I had a future there. And so I contacted the treasurer of Colorado Fuel and Iron and went down for an interview in New York City. I was hired immediately, and I went to work for them in 1950. INTERVIEWER: And after that you stayed behind? SPEAKER 2: We stayed in Leominster. SPEAKER 1: Yeah, they lived in Leominster. SPEAKER 2: He'd worked -- he'd come home weekends. And then we'll drive him to the Union Station in Worcester for him to take the midnight train, the sleeper, to go to work maybe Chicago, Buffalo, New York… SPEAKER 1: Not only Buffalo. They had a big -- so in Buffalo, in [unintelligible - 00:46:32] New York, the big steel facility requires [unintelligible - 00:46:36] Steel division. SPEAKER 2: It was -- Sunday night I would drive to Worcester for the midnight train. SPEAKER 1: So I would spend time away. INTERVIEWER: And how long did you stay with them? SPEAKER 1: I was with them -- I can remember the day exactly, April Fools' Day, April 1, 1953, I left. And I was traveling all the time. I was hardly ever home. Closest I ever worked was Clinton. They had a [unintelligible - 00:47:10] Steel, and then in Worcester. But they were all very small in comparison to the other facilities that Colorado Fuel had. In Buffalo there are probably 5,000 or 6,000 workers. And then in Trenton, New Jersey, we acquired the [unintelligible - 00:47:32] division, probably 5,000 or 6,000 people at work there. The nearest facility [unintelligible - 00:47:39] Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Claymont, Delaware, all these facilities that they have, I worked there. INTERVIEWER: So what happened in 1953?18 SPEAKER 1: Well, in 1953, I decided to come back to Leominster and establish my CPA practice. I always wanted to have a CPA practice to public accounting. And I had, I was certified. And so while I was head, all these employments out of town, I developed an accounting practice in Leominster and Fitchburg. And so what was important in getting back to Leominster is I had one account. And I had many, but one of the accounts I had was the Art Plastics Company, and it was a very successful plastics company. And it did the greatest volume of [unintelligible - 00:48:48] would be SS Kresge Company, which today is known as the Kmart. And so in 1951 or 1952, they started to lose their bargain in business that was the Kresge Company, and it got to the point where in late 1952, early 1953, they lost money, the volume of their business with the Kresge Company. And so they became insolvent. And they had -- they owed money to the major chemical manufacturer in those days. Dall Chemical, [unintelligible - 00:49:43] and so, the credit offices of these companies were located in the New York City area. And while I was with Colorado Fuel working down in Madison Avenue in New York, I contacted the credit department of the Dall Chemical, [unintelligible - 00:50:00], and was able to affect the settlement for Art Plastics of 10 to 25 cents on a dollar, they would settle for it, because I was able to show that without some compromise, the Art Plastics was gonna go out of business. They were insolvent, they were heading to bankruptcy. And so as a result of these accommodations I made for the Art Plastics Company, it was able to exist in not just to keep it running from day to day. And they had one account, a custom molding account, which was enough to keep it alive. So they wanted me to see what I could do, improve the facility and join the company and make it viable. And so I accepted an arrangement after great discussion to go to work with them on April 1 and leave Colorado Fuel. And19 my salary was $100 a week, which was less than what I was earning with Colorado Fuel. But the arrangement that I would stay long enough to either make a [unintelligible - 00:51:36] company or not, and that I would put all the time that I could, especially every morning, but then afternoons I would be free if I had to take care of my accounting practice, which I was going to build up. So I used Art Plastics as a steppingstone to develop my public accounting practice. And so I joined Art Plastics, and simultaneously, when I joined, there were three main stockholders, three partners at Art Plastics. One of them left abruptly as I joined the company, and so I joined the company and made all kinds of drastic cuts, like slashed salaries of the remaining partners, almost 50 percent, and you know, in [unintelligible - 00:52:40] warehouse based at [unintelligible - 00:52:44]. I made a lot of cost-cutting procedures. INTERVIEWER: So you were a very popular guy? SPEAKER 1: I was not popular at all. And so at the end of the first month, six to seven weeks that I was there, the second partner approached and said I can't get along on my meager income now, and what I'd like to do is leave the company but I'd like to take the machine shop as a swap for my share in the company. So I okayed it, and I checked with the other partner, the other remaining partner, who was elderly and who was not that active in the plastics business but who was the investment person, the person who put up the fund at the start the company. And so it was fine with him. So at the end of two months, I was -- I found myself there with just one partner. Then he suddenly developed an ulcer and was hospitalized, and he was told to stay away from the plastics company. So in the short space of time, I found myself running the plastic company that I didn't completely understand, and I was learning. And so that went on. I managed to keep running, and…20 INTERVIEWER: Doing all of these for a $100 a week? SPEAKER 1: Well, yes. But I had my accounting practice, and I was earning about as much in my accounting practice on a part-time basis, because I was working for the Art Plastics Company. And the practice was that I would hold my payroll checks for perhaps two or three weeks, whatever I had to, when there was not enough money in Art Plastics to cover the payroll checks. So we managed to stay alive and keep Art Plastics running. We get down to the point where we -- normally, Art Plastics had 60, 70 employees when it was running. But they kept down to the point where we only had five or six employees when there was hardly any business. But we managed to hang in there by cost cutting and settling with creditors in giving us time to pay. We managed to stay alive. And I stayed in the plastics business longer than what I had planned. So I was busy running the plastics business, running my public accounting practice, time goes by. And the plastics business was seasonal, and it worked out that public accounting in those days was seasonal. You were busy from about December until about April, and that's about when the plastics company was not that busy. So I was able to balance the two and keep the plastics company alive. And after three, four, five years, we developed new customers in the plastics, with Art Plastics. I made a decision around 1960 after just being so busy running the plastics business during the day and running my public accounting practice in the evening and weekends, and taking time away from the plastics business during the week, I made the decision to stay in the plastics business. And I thought that I might take my public accounting practice alive by bringing somebody in. And so it was 1959 or 1958, one of those years, that I brought in one of my colleagues that I work with at Peat Marwick Mitchell Company, 21 and he came to work with me, and I was passing on -- he handled all the public accounts. We set up an office, and the [unintelligible - 00:57:31] building downtown, I remember. And that went on for a year or a year and a half, maybe two years, and he abruptly passed away. And right in the middle of taxing, probably February or March. And so all these taxes returns we were working on, I had to get extensions. And so that's when I decided that I wouldn't be able to keep up my public accounting practice, so that's when I divested my accounts and made arrangements for other CPAs in the area to take over some of my accounts. But I wasn't able to give them all up. I kept a couple. Not that I wanted to, but because they wanted to. There was some loyalty there. And so I [unintelligible - 00:58:39] that I kept maybe for another 10, 15 years. It was not a very… INTERVIEWER: What made you stay in the Art Plastics Company? Sounds like an incredible amount of work. SPEAKER 1: Well, there is a lot of work. But we have 30, 40, 50 people there. You can delegate a lot. I think in public accounting, it was -- for me, it was more time-consuming to get the work done, whereas in manufacturing you delegate and you're more of a manager and you have time. And I can recall a conversation that I had with two of my colleagues when I was working in Southbridge at the American Optical, and we were talking one evening, the three of us, as to what we wanted to after we get out of public accounting. And one of them said, "Well, I wanna become the comptroller of a large gold chip firm." And he did, he became comptroller and assistant treasurer of the Pittston Company. And the other fellow wanted to stay in public accounting and be partner, and he did that. He stayed. I remember saying I wanna be a manufacturer. I just think that the opportunity in manufacturing, owning your own business. 22 I remember saying that maybe if turned up that I had that opportunity to work on… INTERVIEWER: So tell me, what did Art Plastics make? SPEAKER 1: Art Plastics had their line of horticultural flower pot ornaments, that was its line. It made these trellises for flower pots, it made the ornaments that you would stick in the flower pots, like the flamingoes, [unintelligible - 01:00:45] watering flowers, those palm trees, a frog on the… INTERVIEWER: And this was very popular in the '60s? SPEAKER 1: Well, it was -- yes, it had a line. But we developed a -- we got into custom molding products. Custom molding is more than we did, the proprietary line. So we became custom molders, basically. That's when we would -- people would come to us with molds of their own, and we would mold their products. And we used to -- one of our big accounts had a big line of toy dolls. And you know that Barbie doll that was popular? We used to mold that. We used to mold it in acetate. That was our main account. We mold it for the company that put the [unintelligible - 01:01:45] sprayed the eyes on it, the eye lashes. INTERVIEWER: The Barbie doll, the Mattel Company? SPEAKER 1: No, they were competitors. Got to be competitors. This was back in the late 1950s, '60s. Yeah. So we were custom molders. We used to mold for other big companies, like [unintelligible - 01:02:16]. They manufacture beautiful knives, forks, and spoons, and we used to mold those. And companies like Tupperware. Have you heard of Tupperware? They would get extremely busy, and they would approach molders like Art Plastics. And we would mold their basins and dish bowls and things like that on a seasonal basis. SPEAKER 2: Clothes hangers?23 SPEAKER 1: Clothes hangers. That was one big account. But we made all their hangers that they made—not for the consumer market but for the display of hangers in stores and department stores like Saks, and… [Lauren] Taylor, companies like that. They have a very expensive line of plastic hangers, and we were their molders. So we were -- we get a great deal of custom molding with Art Plastics. SPEAKER 2: May I insert a story? We were on the trip, and Aldo's looking at the store with fur coats in the windows. And our friends said, "Oh Aldo's looking to buy you a fur coat." I says, "No, he wants to see if that was one of the hangers molded at Art Plastics." SPEAKER 1: I want to see it that was one of our hangers. SPEAKER 2: So I had many stories little stories like that. He'd be looking to see if it was done at Art Plastics Company or some other place. INTERVIEWER: Now, what would happen if you saw that it was done at another? SPEAKER 1: Well, if it was a competitor's, I would report it back to our customers; say you got to get your salesman out there. So that's what Art Plastics did. And so it leads to some [unintelligible - 01:04:15]. INTERVIEWER: But I'm not sure I fully understand Art Plastics, meaning after the partners that you had suddenly died. You decided no longer… SPEAKER 1: No, he developed an ulcer, and he was advised not to return to work for a few months. INTERVIEWER: Oh yeah, not him, but during your public accounting. SPEAKER 1: Oh. Well, I liquidated my company, public accounting practice, and couple of other CPAs in the area took the accounts over. INTERVIEWER: And then you continued with… SPEAKER 1: Then I stayed in plastics; I stayed in plastics and developed Art Plastics. And in 1960, we were paying rent in what they called in those days the old DuPont building. So we had an opportunity to buy a piece of real estate owned by the Borden Chemical Company at 75 Water Street in Leominster. And so we acquired that 24 property I believe in 1960. And so Art Plastics relocated and moved up to this new facility, and that's when I made all my decision that I'm gonna stay in the plastics business, liquidate my public accounting. It was around 1960 when we purchased the Art Plastics building on the Walter Street from the Borden Chemical Company. INTERVIEWER: Now 40 years later, are you in the same location? SPEAKER 1: Comes about it, I'm going back. That's a long circle around. So… SPEAKER 2: That building has always been Art Plastics and Cardinal Co. Then we have another building. But now, Art Plastics is back on 75 Water Street. Lots of stories in between. SPEAKER 1: Lots of stories in between. INTERVIEWER: Do you want to say all of them? Because we're up to 1960, so we might as well go on. SPEAKER 1: All right. So in the '60s we developed Art Plastics in custom molding. And I decided that, that we had culturally floral [unintelligible - 01:06:55] that we had, the trellises and things like that, were not developing the way I thought. And I was looking for a proprietary line to get into. So we had a lot of experience molding combs for the DuPont Company, the Tupperware Company, hangers and things like that, and also standard home products that we used to custom mold. So we had a background in molding combs. And Leominster is known as the combing city that it always had. They manufacture combs here. So I had an opportunity to employ somebody who was knowledgeable in comb business, so I decided to be in the comb business, and that was in 1969, that the first thing we did was we had a pocket comb mold built. That caught, let's say, 36-cavity 5-inch pocket comb, heavy-duty pocket comb that cost us $7,200. That was our first mold to go into the comb business. INTERVIEWER: And that cost you $7,200 for the mold?25 SPEAKER 1: For that one mold to introduce us. That was a very pro -- and that was a man's pocket comb. Every man has a pocket comb, a black pocket comb in those days, and it was a bread and butter entry to the business. So we started Cardinal Comb in 1969. Around 1970, there was a -- another company in Leominster that was involved in the comb business, and they have been in business two or three or four years. And they were faltering, and they were going out of business. So we acquired their machinery, molds and machinery. INTERVIEWER: Which business was that? Which company? What was the name of it? Can you remember? SPEAKER 1: They call it Rafaeli Plastics. Cardinal Comb acquired all the assets, the machinery, the equipment, the inventory, and the customer list… whom I was already doing business with. But that doesn't matter. So that was in 1999, we acquire Rafaeli Plastics. And after that, going through our line. INTERVIEWER: Were you the only company in the area producing combs? SPEAKER 1: No, we were not. We were a late entry. Probably a half a dozen other people making combs in Leominster, or at least I knew about. So we entered the comb business. INTERVIEWER: And what gave you the courage for that? SPEAKER 1: Well, I hired this person who had experience in sales in combs. I was -- I felt he could do well in the comb business. So during the '70s and '80s, our comb business grew. We had a machine shop, and we built our own molds. In those days it had the black and the [unintelligible - 01:10:52] movement. And so they were the new styles of combs coming in to the market, and molds have to be built. We had the facility, machine shop facility. We built many of our own molds, and it saved us considerable… INTERVIEWER: Who would make a decision like that? Is it something that you read about, knowing what kinds of combs are coming into style?26 SPEAKER 1: Well, we would go to trade shows. We would go to trade shows in New York, Chicago. And you could -- the trend was out there, there was a trend, and you could detect it. And what other people, what other competitors would do, they have a pulse for what the market wanted. And after that was happening in the '70s or '80s, comb business was changing. And people change styles along. They became sharp. For a while they have all these apple comb, shampoo comb, the big 9-inch comb with a handle on it. Normally they have a regular 9-inch dresser comb which was all comb. Half of the comb was fine teeth; the other half was coarse teeth. So the apple comb with the shampoo comb with coarse teeth with a handle on it. So we were probably one of the first to get in on that trend. And they have this list; they give you the afro look. And we were very involved with that. And at the same time, with the change in the style of combs, there was also a change in the color of combs. Because the comb industry, basically, that we started with, we only had about three colors of comb. You'll have black, baby pink, and baby blue. Those were the colors. So if we went to trade shows, and plastics, the new plastics resins coming in to the market where you could color, add all kinds of color very easily. So color became very important in the comb business. So we got in on that trend and started to make a lot of colors, and it's one of the ways I think that we expanded and kept up with the competition. INTERVIEWER: Is Art Plastics and Cardinal Combs two separate companies? SPEAKER 1: Yes. SPEAKER 2: Two separate corporations. Same people. SPEAKER 1: Yes. Two separate corporations. Common ownership. The family owns -- I actually took the beginning. The family, to mention, our family, owned Art Plastics and Cardinal Comb. My son didn't join me in the plastics business until probably 1980 or so. 27 SPEAKER 2: Because of college. INTERVIEWER: Two sons, or… SPEAKER 2: Two sons in the plastics business now. INTERVIEWER: But did they originally all work in the plastics? SPEAKER 1: No. I'll tell you a little story. But the important and interesting is -- so we started to develop these colors like yellow and fuchsia, strawberry and lime, all the different colors of a comb. So it was probably my son Edward -- when did get he out of college? SPEAKER 2: '82. SPEAKER 1: '82. Edward, the youngest of my three sons, joined me at Cardinal Comb, and he was in charge of production, scheduling. And he and I went to trade shows. And then my second son Anthony was working in Boston in public accounting. So at one point my son Anthony said, "Dad I'm gonna be joining Cardinal Comb," and I said, "Are you?" "Yes. Edward wants me to join the company. He said that we need some help." I said that's fine. Glad to hear it. And so Anthony joined the company around 1983, something like that. So then I decided, this is not all the heads that we're gonna have, so we really have to expand to cover Anthony's salary. And so we concentrated more on marketing. So I put Anthony in charge of sales and marketing. And so Anthony would go to the trade shows. And so he came back from one trade show after he's been with the company for a year or so, he said, "Dad, we have to have more colors. We just can't get by with just three or four. We have to have eight or nine different colors. And we can get more of the shares of the market." And so I called Edward in, I said "Edward, we're gonna increase the inventory line of combs from about four colors to about eight or nine." Edward said, "Over my dead body, Dad. I'm not ready to have any more different colors." So I had these two very strong individuals, strong personality, and I could say from my experience from public accounting, I had seen 28 collisions or difficulty come in to certain partnerships and family arrangements. And I sat back and said no, these two [unintelligible - 01:17:11] want to run the show. It can only have one person running an operation; I got to find another way. I got to separate these companies. So that's when I made the decision to purchase another company called St. John, which we renamed First Plastics. And then I put Edward in charge of that. And so each -- it is my decision or purpose or call, really, to have each one of my eldest boys run their own company, which they would run it completely and be responsible. And that would give them the incentive, too. If they did well, they'd be rewarded. So it worked out very well, I think. INTERVIEWER: So is Art Plastics also making combs? SPEAKER 2: No. Just molding. SPEAKER 1: No. First Plastics was strictly a custom molding operation. That had some customers. So we acquired First Plastics in 1987, '88. 1988. We actually acquired it. And we had a relationship of molding with them. When we purchased -- when we set up First Plastics, the name of the company was St. John, and that was owned by the [unintelligible - 01:18:48] family from [unintelligible - 01:18:55] Massachusetts. So we get custom molding for them, and they own it solely because they have to go into plastics to make their plastics and things like that. But after they go on a few years, it didn't work out well for them and they decided that they were going to get out of the plastics business, and that's when St. John was up for sale. And that's when we purchased the company. And they had some custom molding and customer list, small customer list that went a long way. So we set up First Plastics in a separate location down the [unintelligible - 01:19:36], and Edward became the president of First Plastics, and Anthony became the president of Cardinal Comb./AT/jf/kb/es

Issue 51.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1992. ; fo,r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ContemP0ra~ Living SEPTEMBER-O~OBER 1992 ~ t VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 ,÷ Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: .Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez sJ Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents spiritual growth 646 Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness William G. Thompson SJ explores by means of three personal examples the relationship between being holy and being devel-oped spiritually. 659 Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Robert P. Malohey CM proposes that listening becomes a basic Christian stance for a healthy and practical spirituality. 675 Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth John Wickham SJ mixes traditional language and new approaches to explain the major movements from the discerning and affirmation of the self to ultimate union with the Lord. religious life 691 Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition David F. O'Connor ST reviews the history of how traumatic changes in religious life have preceded new forms of dedication and vitality. 707 Religious Life in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ emphasizes the directions of religious life in Latin America given official support in the Puebla docu-ment. 716 721 A Collaborative Retirement Convent Kathleen Steinkamp RSM details the process by which two reli-gious communities established a residential care facility for their retired members. living spiritually Reinventing the Sabbath Dennis Hamm SJ presents a refreshing review of the meaning of 642 R~view for Religious 733 736 sabbath rest and its importance for the survival of our faith. Priesthood, Listening, and the Music Bishop Paul A. Zipfel instructs Dominican ordinands to reverence the gift of orders they will be receiving. A Diligent Compassion Theresa Mancuso relives both the pain of grief on the occasion of her mother's death and the long process of being reconciled with that loss. 743 754 praying Becoming Contemplative Here or There Marie Beha OSC traces out four strands of monastic contemplative discipline to give outsiders a close look at some fibers that go into a contemplative life. An Imaginative Look at Mary Jeffrey B. Symynkywicz focuses his imagined prayer or his prayer-ful imagination on how he sees Mary fitting into today's world. life directions 762 A Journey of Transformation Together Lorelle E. Elcock OP describes the steps of the process of trans-forming three Dominican congregations of women into a new unity. 770 Celibacy as Possibility Marie McCarthy SP explores a celibacy that is concerned about possibilities for life, for generativity, and for transformation. 644 782 789 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Communicating an Indult of Departure Book Reviews September-October 1992 643 prisms ~hat does a laywoman in Brooklyn have in common with a professor in Central America gunned down for his beliefs, with an auxiliary bishop in St. Louis known for his pastoral-liturgical style, and with a member of a religious community facing the prospect of no new members? In addition to being people who have struggled to live authentic Christian lives, each of these men and women has articles in this issue of Review for Religious. They join their voices with a treasurer of a reli-gious community, with a cloistered contemplative sister, and with spiritual directors, theologians, and administra-tors from Canada, Rome, and the United States to exam-ine a whole spectrum of issues of interest to the contemporary church. These women and men--and, over the years, many others like them--have written about their religious expe-riences in these pages. As they share their personal insights and practical observations about living their faith, our readers around the world benefit from their reflections. Review for Religious has been a valuable resource because of the rich diversity of topics it treats and because of the wide range of perspectives it presents. Have you ever wondered how such articles come to be published? One of the best-kept secrets about this pub-lication is that the editors seldom solicit articles for a par-titular: issue. Over the years a steady flow of unsolicited manuscripts has provided a substantial backlog of articles. The editors simply select, edit, and group the articles. We are constantly amazed at what comes across our desks. Each year the editors consider 250 to 300 articles. From these we select between 90 and 100 for publication. 644 Review for Religious After the editors have chosen the articles they wish to publish, their time is consumed by the process of careful copy editing, proofreading, and preparing the articles for press. The continued vitality of this journal depends on the contri-butions from our readers. Articles that appear in Review are writ-ten, for the most part, by nonprofessional writers--people just like you. That's right. People just like the one who is reading these words at this moment. But this should not come as a surprise. Some two thousand years ago a tax collector and a tent maker did not look on themselves as writers, but today we still draw inspi-ration from the words they penned. Moses and Jeremiah found words worth recording even though one stuttered and the other felt inexperienced. Many of us feel equally inhibited. Few people consider themselves writers. None of the members of the Review staff, if truth be known, prepared themselves for careers in writing or publishing. Yet each of us discovers that, at some point in our lives, we have something to say. We may, how-ever, have difficulties convincing ourselves of that fact. But consider the words found in the Book of Deuteronomy: "The word is very near to you, it is in your mouth and in your heart." The words we discover within our hearts often merit a wider audience. Have you come to a fresh understanding of prayer during a recent retreat or as you talk with other people who pray? Review for Religious would like to invite you to share your experiences and insights. Has the community or parish you live in developed a program or a new method of interacting that others could profit from hearing about? Review could make that possible. If some-thing strikes you as original or valuable, chances are someone else will benefit from hearing that idea. May we invite you to consider becoming a writer? Should you feel that you have the materials for an article that meets the mission statement printed on the back cover of this issue, con-sider putting it on paper. Review will be delighted to send you a set of writers' guidelines. These guidelines clearly describe how to prepare and submit an article for publication in this journal. Review and its many readers want to hear your ideas. And we will be grateful to you for the courage and hard work you will invest in expressing them. Michael Harter SJ September-October 1992 645 WILLIAM G. THOMPSON spiritual growth Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness For several years I have been articulating for myself and my classes a working model of the inner world represented by the terms spirituality, spiritual development, and holi-ness. In this article I offer some insights I have had as I wondered about how these terms are related. How is spir-ituality related to the human sciences, especially devel-opmental psychology? Is spiritual development the same as what psychologists call human development? How is holiness related to psychological wholeness? I will begin with three examples, move to a more technical exploration of the terms, and return to reflect on the examples in the light of that exploration. Rachel, an adolescent with cerebral palsy, is so severely delayed in her human development that she cannot attend the regular religious-education classes or the liturgies in her parish. Every two weeks she gathers with five other similarly retarded adolescents and six adult sponsors for sessions in special religious education, symbolic catech-esis for the mentally retarded. Joan, who has been her sponsor and friend in this gathering for five years, is con-vinced that despite her developmental retardation Rachel is a very holy young woman. William G. Thompson sJ specializes in the New Testament for adult spirituality and pastoral ministry. He has a doctorate in Scripture from the Pontifical Biblical Institute and serves as asso-ciate professor in Loyola University's Institute of Pastoral Studies, Chicago. His most recent book is Matthew's Story: Good News for Uncertain Times (Paulist, 1989). His address is Ignatius House; 1331 W. Albion Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60626. 646 Review for Religious Katie Klein was born in Germany but came to the United States at the end of World War I. When I was a child, she came to our home two days a week to do laundry and clean our house, as she did for two other families. I came to know and love Katie. She lived a simple, structured, apparently rigid and unimaginative, but also very meaningful life. She went to Mass every morning before work, and she spent at least an hour after work reciting traditional prayers at home. I believe that Katie was a very holy woman even though she seemed never to outgrow the simple piety that had given meaning to her younger years. Before her death in 1950, no personal crisis or public event occurred to chal-lenge her way of living a life that appeared to be pleasing to God. During Vatican Council II, I was pursuing doctoral studies at the Biblical Institute in Rome. Day by day I interiorized the drama of the council as I received reports about its progress from a fellow Jesuit who attended the sessions. I soon sensed that the vision of the church in the modern world that was being shaped in the council's debates was tearing down the world of meaning I had put together for myself over the fifteen years of my Jesuit formation and education. I somehow knew that a long and subtle search for a new world of meaning was beginning. Had the Vatican Council not called us Roman Catholics to let our paradigms shift and leap to a different horizon of meaning, I might still be wear-ing the traditional Jesuit cassock and living the style of priest-hood for which I was so well trained. Spirituality Before Vatican II, spirituality as it refers to lived experience was an almost exclusively Roman Catholic term. But it has taken on a much broader meaning with the council's invitation to a new awareness of, dialogue with, and appreciation of other Christian denominations and of non-Christian religions. In recent years we have been speaking of spirituality as found in various Protestant traditions and in the various traditions of Judaism, as well as in Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism. Vatican II also called us to a new dialogue with the human sciences, especially with the fields of psychology, sociology, and anthropology, in which spirituality refers to the human spirit apart from religion. Some even speak about the spirituality of antireligious movements such as secular feminism and atheistic Marxism. September-October 1992 647 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness Spirituality has become a broad, inclusive term that is no longer confined to or defined by religion. It seems now to name a human reality which is difficult to define but whose patterns can be verified in quite different religions and movements. It is no longer limited to the so-called "interior life" of those (mostly priests and religious) who "strive for perfection" through a life of prayer and virtue beyond that of the "ordinary" believer. Spirituality now focuses on the human spirit of believers and non-believers, on their lives as a whole, that is, on the physical and emotional, the intellectual and social, the political and cultural, the secular and religious dimensions of their lives.1 In recent years academic courses and publications in spiritu-ality have multiplied in response to the broad and deep interest among professionals in ministry and among academics in semi-naries and universities. How then are we to define spirituality? Sandra Schneiders provides the best definition that I have found: "Spirituality is the experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one perceives.''2 According to this definition, (1) spirituality names our progressive, consciously pursued movement toward personal integration; (2) such integration happens when we transcend ourselves rather than center on ourselves and our own self-actualization; and (3) such self-transcendence takes place within the horizon of how we imag-ine, think, and feel about what is ultimate in human life and moves us toward it. For Christians our ultimate concern is God revealed in Jesus Christ and experienced through the gift of the Holy Spirit and within the life of the church. But a spirituality may or may not include God or Jesus Christ, may or may not be explicitly reli-gious. Clear boundaries between the secular and the sacred, between believers and nonbelievers, are notoriously difficult to determine. But twelve-step spirituality has taught us that for reli-gious persons reliance on their "Higher Power" may mean reliance on God, while for nonreligious persons it may mean reliance on their support groups. However, our definition of spirituality does not extend to those persons who organize, orient, and orches-trate their lives in dysfunctional or narcissistic ways according to addictive patterns such as alcoholism or self-centered eroticism. Self-transcendence moves us out of compulsive, addictive, obses-sive patterns of behavior toward more healthy relationships with 648 Review for Religious other persons, with ourselves, and with a transcendent Other, however we imagine and name that Other. At the heart of spirituality, then, lies self-transcendence? The philosophical meaning of spirituality is that capacity for self-tran-scendence through knowledge and love which characterizes humans as persons. We human beings actual-ize this philosophical spirituality within the net-works and patterns of our relationships with others. We seek meaning and are found by meaning as we interact with each other indi-vidually and in communities; and we seek truth and are found by truth in these interactions. A religious spirituality affirms that the proper and highest realization of our human capacity for self-transcendence is to be found in our personal relationship with God. Spirituality in this religious sense has as its ultimate concern our individual and communal believing in, hoping for, and loving God. Religious traditions that imagine and understand God as a person who relates reciprocally with individuals and communi-ties on earth have a religious spirituality. The religions of Islam and Hinduism, of Judaism and Christianity, all see our human spirit as responding to, dependent upon, related to, and account-able to a transcendent Other named God. These religions include images, symbols, metaphors, stories, laws, and rituals through which people encounter God and are encountered by God. In Christian spirituality God's Spirit within but other than our human spirit, within but other than the community of believ-ers, actualizes our capacity for self-transcendence by relating us in and through Jesus Christ to others, to our world, and to God. Our spirituality is at work when we implicitly or explicitly imag-ine- think and feel about, make choices and decisions about-- our everyday lives within the ultimate horizon of our relationship to a personal God in and through Jesus Christ and as empow-ered by God's Spirit. We Christians seek to interpret our indi-vidual and collective human experience as centered in Jesus Christ, guided by the Holy Spirit, and oriented to God. Our spirituality is incarnational and trinitarian. God initiates the personal relationship in and through Christ by the power of the Spirit; our spirituality, individual and collec-tive, reflects how we respond to God's initiative as we face the At the heart of spirituality lies self-transcendence. Septentber- October 1992 649 T~_~pson . Spirituality and Holiness, challenges of everyday life within our specific historical and cul-rural environment. Our spirituality is the sum of our responses to what we perceive as the inner call of God. It has to do with our vocation, that is, with the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for life that is part of the purposes that God has for our lives in the world. It has to do with the activities by which we are being created by God and create with God, by which we are governed by God and govern our world with God, by which we are being redeemed by God and participate in God's work of redemption in our concrete his-torical situation. At its core, Christian spirituality concerns how we live in part-nership with the action of God in our lives, whatever its pattern. It focuses on how God actively guides our evolving universe, including God's personal interactions with individuals and com-munities. It acknowledges that our human lives are created by God and destined to return to God. It is concerned with how we are aware of and respond to God and how we transcend ourselves to relate more deeply with others and with our world. As we shall see, this call to self-transcendence may also, but need not, include development, that is, movement in the direction of more devel-oped patterns for finding truth and meaning in our lives.4 Returning to our examples: Rachel, although developmentally retarded, transcends herself by responding to Joan's invitation to friendship, the human experience that most closely resembles faith. She is instinctively present to the other adolescents in the praying group, and she senses that the adult sponsors truly want to be totally present to her. Responding more often with smiles and gestures than with words, Rachel lives close to her feelings and does not hide them from others. She has no problem loving the others and wanting to be loved, even though her movement toward personal integration is slow and retarded. Katie Klein transcended herself by serving our family and other families as laundress and cleaning lady and by being devoted to God at daily Eucharist and in her nightly prayers at home. Her faithful devotion to God and her dedicated service of others dis-closed her ultimate concern; she lived cheerfully and peacefully within the horizon of that concern. Her movement toward per-son] l integration seemed not to include changing how she found meaning in her life. I was called to transcend myself by engaging the events of 650 Review for Religious Vatican II, letting them interact with and begin to tear down the world of meaning constructed over the long years of my Jesuit formation and education. From 1963 to 1968, I was invited to let all that the council meant slowly change how I understood myself as a Jesuit priest, as well as let its vision shape in me images of what my life and work would be as a biblical scholar in the post- Vatican II Roman Catholic Church. I experienced this process as an invitation not simply to move but to leap to a new and broader world of meaning and as a challenge to come to a different under-standing of myself in that world. Spiritual Development Human development is the lifelong process of growing, of changing in many different ways. We humans sometimes change to survive or at least to find meaning in our lives. Sometimes we choose new ways to realize our dreams and attain our goals. At other times we learn better skills and gain more expertise while remaining in the same relationships to others and to our work that give meaning to our lives. We are invited to grow and develop, however, when events so shatter the ways in which we have found meaning and been found by meaning that we inust move toward shaping new patterns that will be more adequate to our changed inner and outer environment. Our journey through life may sometimes take us to new vis-tas of knowing, to deeper realms of trusting, to ever widen.ing circles of belonging, to more creative and effective acting. As we develop, we are enabled to embrace a wider world, to acknowledge a more adequate truth, to live in a more inclusive community, and to enter more deeply into the mystery of human existence. A relatively young discipline, the psychology of human devel-opment was born in response to our modern culture, in which, expecting to live longer lives, we become fascinated by what the extended journey entails. We also sense that, as we near the end of the twentieth century, the global village we call our world is dramatically changing. We need and want to know how we indi-viduals and our families and communities are to navigate such hazardous times. Erik Erikson and Jean Piaget are considered the fathers of developmental psychology. For Erikson, the father of psychoso-cial theories, development is h series of tasks based both on bio- Septe,nber- October 1992 651 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness logical development and on how we interact consciously and unconsciously with other persons, with secular and religious insti-tutions, and with all that makes up our culture. Erikson names a sequence of eight tasks: trust vs. mistrust, autonomy vs. shame and doubt, initiative vs. guilt, industry vs. inferiority, identity vs. role confusion, intimacy vs. isolation, generativity vs. stagnation, integrity vs. despair. We never complete any of these lifelong tasks, but, as we move through our lives, one task more than the others may call for special energy and attention. For example, the elderly continue to work at the tasks of trust vs. mistrust and generativity vs. stagnation even as they are called to the final task, integrity vs. despair,s Jean Piaget, the father of structural-developmental theories, focused on the structures of human thought and reasoning. He recognized that infants, children, and adolescents come to know reality differently. He developed an understanding, of cognitive development in which a stage is an integrated pattern of opera-tional structures that at a given time constitute the person's thought processes. Piaget called his stages preoperational, concretely oper-ational, early formal operational, and formal operational. Development from one stage to another involves the transforma-tion of these cognitive structures in the direction of greater inter-nal differentiation, complexity, flexibility, and stability.6 Erikson's tasks, with their focus on what meaning we find in our lives, are related to the seasons of our lives, to our youth and adolescence and to our early, middle, and late adulthood. Piaget's structural stages, with their concern for bow we find and are found by meaning, are not so related to chronological age or social envi-ronment. As children we may have begun to develop formal oper-ational structures in which our experience of others is concrete, literal, and immediate. We may have created strong stereotypes of others, shown little empathy for those with whom we are not familiar, and developed a strong but simple sense of right and wrong based on regulations, law and order, and reward and pun-ishment. Since this structure is not age related, we may live all the seasons of our lives and address all the psychosocial tasks without moving toward the next structural stage of human development. We may continue to use existing structures as long as they work, that is, until our inner and outer worlds become so much more complex that we can no longer find and be found by meaning within those structures and patterns. 652 Review for Religious When we experience life as more complex than we have known it, we may be invited to move toward the next stage of human development, toward the next task (Erikson) or toward the next structure for finding meaning (Piaget). Crises, marker events, unfulfilled hopes, changes in significant relationships can create an inner climate of confusion, doubt, and conflict that invites us into transition. Rome during Vatican II was such an inner and outer environment. If we choose to respond to the invi-tation, we begin to separate from the images that have given mean-ing to our lives and then to float in between the old and the new so that we may gradually reintegrate our lives around more ade-quate images of how we are to know, feel, value, love, and act. As we change, we may feel weak, vulnerable, and out of control because we have begun to experience our lives as more chaotic than orderly. Nevertheless, we are drawn to risk moving or being moved toward more developed patterns so that we may live and act more effectively in our increasingly complex world. Transitions in human development are those more or less extended periods in which we gradually develop more internal complexity, more sub-tle differentiation, greater flexibility, and stronger inner stability. This is the place to ask how human development with its stages and transitions relates to spiritual development. We have seen that spirituality has as its concern how over time we integrate our lives in the direction not of isolation and self-absorption but of greater self-transcendence toward the ultimate value as we per-ceive it. According to Daniel Helminiak, spiritual development is the same as human development but with four characteristics that make it spiritual: (1) an intrinsic principle of authentic self-transcendence, (2) the openness of the person to such self-tran-scendence, (3) the integrity or wholeness of the person in question, and (4) an adult capacity for self-criticism and responsibility for oneself.7 Spiritual development, like spirituality, is a general human phenomenon that may or may not be religious. It is more prop-erly studied in the human sciences than in theology, particularly in developmental psychologies with a philosophical perspective. Spiritual development can be called religious when in our search for meaning we acknowledge a personal God to whom we are related and with whom we can realize our deepest capacity for self-transcendence. Christian spiritual development understands that relationship as the gift of God's Spirit actualizing our capac- Septentber-October 1992 653 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness ity for self-transcendence and relating us to God in Jesus Christ within the Christian community of believers. We Christians believe that God is present and active in the events that change our inner climate, that Jesus Christ invites us into transition and enables us to respond to the invitation, and that God's Spirit com-panions us as we separate from outworn images and learn to float in between, waiting patiently for new, more life-giving images to emerge. Spiritual development can also be described as our moving into deeper and more comprehensive love. Love is Jesus' only command and the standard of perfection in the Christian tradi-tion. 8 Developmental psychology considers this same movement from self-centeredness to self-transcendence its criterion for human development. Although Christians understand spiritual growth as involving more than psychological development, both the Christian tradition and developmental psychology have the same vision of human maturity, that is, movement toward greater autonomy for the sake of more authentically mutual and intimate relationships. Insights from developmental psychology can enrich our understanding of and help us grow into more mature rela-tionships with others, with ourselves, with the cosmos, and with God. Holiness With this understanding of spirituality and spiritual devel-opment, we now ask what it means to be holy and whether holi-ness is the same as wholeness. I agree with Daniel Helminiak that holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship? A person can be holy at any stage of spiritual devel-opment; a neurotic person can be holy; a developmentally dis-abled or retarded person can be holy. Holiness has nothing to do with psychological wholeness, but everything to do with the qual-ity of our relationships to God and others, to ourselves and our world, whatever the pattern of those relationships. Holiness has to do with generosity, surrender, intensity, openness, and depth according to our capacity to possess and exercise these qualities. Holiness concerns our authenticity before God, others, ourselves, and our world, how we walk in these relationships, how we do God's will, how we remain close to God and others, how we live 654 Review for Religious in harmony with God, others, and ourselves, how we cooperate with the call and grace of God in our lives. Holiness concerns how well we respond to God's call to self-transcendence and enter into meaningful relationships with oth-ers and with all that makes up our environment. God's call may or may not include an invitation to move toward the next stage of human development, that is, toward more complex patterns for finding and being found by meaning. What counts is how open we are to God, how well we listen for God, and how well we respond to God in and through the relationships that make up our everyday lives. God calls us to holiness within our concrete histori-cal and cultural situation, whether we are developmentally retarded, as is Rachel; or we live with simple patterns for finding meaning, as did Katie; or we are invited to " move to the next stage of spiritual devel-opment, as I was invited. Our vocation--that is, the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for our life that is part of the purposes that God has for our life in the world--may include an invitation to develop new, more complex patterns for making meaning, but it may not. Holiness cannot be identified with psychological wholeness or correlated with spiritual development. A less developed person may be holy, while a more developed person may not. As we pass through the stages of spiritual development, we may become more psychologically mature, but whether or not we also grow in holi-ness depends on the quality of our response to the call of God in our lives. Holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship. Conclusion Now we return to our cases. Rachel cannot manage in the usual parish groups of adolescents because she moves at a much slower pace than normal in her spiritual development. She has moved through the stages of grasping reality by exploring every-thing in sight (sensory-motor thinking), of imagining the outside Septentber-October 1992 655 Thompson ¯ Spirituali~ and Holiness " world to fit her inside world (symbolic thinking), and of identi-fying with what she learns (intuitive thinking). But her retardation makes her as yet incapable of thinking beyond what actually is to what is possible (formal operational thinking). Her adult friend Joan and the other adult sponsors are convinced that Rachel is holy and growing in holiness even though developmentally retarded. Rachel receives her vocation from God through Joan and the other adolescents and adults at their biweekly sessions in symbolic catechesis. She responds to those around her and to God with the capacity she has to symbolize and imagine, to know and be known, to love and be loved. Joan senses that almost imperceptibly Rachel is growing more open, more generous, and more authentic in responding to this call of God. Her holiness depends on the quality of her response to others and to God, not on the stage of her spiritual development,l° Katie Klein lived a regular, structured, apparently unimagi-native, but meaningful life. Her experience of others and of God was concrete, literal, and immediate. And she had a 'strong but simple sense of right and wrong. She moved through the tasks of adult life (Erikson) with early formal operational structures of thought (Piaget). Although capable of further development, Katie found those patterns adequate for finding and being found by meaning in her inner and outer world. Generously serving others and being faithful to daily Mass and devotional prayers, Katie became a very holy woman even though her life situation, God in her life, never invited her to move beyond an uncomplicated pat-tern of spiritual development. Within that pattern Katie responded more and more generously to God and walked more and more faithfully with God to become as holy a person as anyone I have known. In how well she loved and served our family, in how deeply she trusted God as she approached death, we knew that Katie's was a rich, solid, strong partnership with God. During my doctoral studies, the events of Vatican II invited me to develop spiritually by letting conventional patterns for find-ing meaning in my Jesuit life be shattered so that more adequate, more individuated, more autonomous structures might be shaped. As I interacted with the environment of the council, God called me to an experience of brokenness so that I might become more whole psychologically, more mature spiritually. Reality became chaotic compared with what I had known in my years of Jesuit formation. Challenged to change, feeling vulnerable, I risked 656 Review for Religious moving toward more complex patterns for making meaning in my life. God called me into this transition so that I might more effectively live and work in the world envisioned by the council. As I struggled through this developmental transition, whether or not I was also becoming holy depended not on the transition but on how well I was listening to and how generously I was responding to the call of God in that experience. Rachel was developmentally retarded, but l~oly; Katie was never called into transition, and she was holy. God invited me to move from the conventional world of meaning I had constructed in my Jesuit formation toward a more individual stage of spiritual develop-ment. Does that mean I was also becoming more holy? Not nec-essarily! We cannot measure holiness, neither our own nor other people's; only God knows the quality of that response to God. We can remember, however, and we must, that holiness concerns how well we live in partnership with God, not how far we have advanced through the stages of spiritual development. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 681-683; Joann Wolski Conn, Spirituality and Personal Maturity (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 13-29. 2 Schneiders, "Spirituality," p. 684. 3 Sandra M. Schneiders, "Theology and Spirituality: Strangers, Rivals, or Partners," Horizons 13 (1986): 266; Wolski Conn, Spirituality, pp. 29- 30. 4 For further discussion see Katherine Marie Dyckman and L. Patrick Carroll, Inviting the Mystic, Supporting the Prophet (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 79; Benedict J. Groeschel, Spiritual Passages (New York: Crossroad, 1988), p. 4; James W. Fowler, Becoming Adult, Becoming Christian (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 71-76; James W. Fowler, Weaving the New Creation (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), p. 31. s For another approach to psychosocial development, see Daniel J. Levinson, The Seasons of a Man's Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978); Anita Spencer, Seasons (New York: Paulist, 1982). 6 For a description of contemporary structuralists (Lawrence Kohlberg, Carol Gilligan, James Fowler, Robert Kegan), see James W. Fowler, Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1981), pp. 37-116; Fowler, Becoming Adult, pp. 37-47. 7 Daniel A. Helminiak, Spiritual Development (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1987), pp. 29-42. September-October 1992 657 8 Joann Wolski Corm and Walter E. Corm, "Christian Spiritual Growth and Developmental Psychology," The Way Supplement 69 (1990): 3-13. 9 Helminiak, Spiritual Development, pp. 143-158. ~0 For an excellent treatment of the mentally retarded, see Mary Therese Harrington, A Place for All: Mental Retardation, Catechesis, and Liturgy (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). The Chess Game It seems you never give up needling away at my defenses. You come to me ready to play a game of chess where you are the seasoned player, and L the fumbling novice. Sometimes you move all at once your strategically placed artillery, leaving me helpless soon after the confrontation has begun. On other occasions you will move, with well-&ought-out expertise, your black knight too near the weakest part of my citadel. You know from past maneuvers I tend to abandon the safety of my ramparts in my hasty efforts to capture him. In the process I give you the liberty to rush into my undefended heart, capturing, as a victory prize, any false god who resides there. When you play, you are never content with a pawn or queen of mine. You want them all! Richard Heatley FSC 658 Review for Religious ROBERT E MALONEY Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear. Isaiah YO:4-Y manuals on the spiritual life, and even in the classics? One searches in vain for a chapter on listening in the writings of St. Benedict or St. Ignatius or even in the writings of very practical, concretely oriented saints like Francis de Sales and Vincent de Paul. One comes up empty too in Luis de Granada and Rodriguez and in later widely used treatises on spirituality like Tanquerey. Listening, of course, enters these writings implicitly under many headings. But if one considers listening the foundation for spirituality, one might have expected it to stand out in greater relief. This article proposes some reflections on listening as the foundation of spirituality. It will examine, in a preliminary way: (1) listening in the New Testament; (2) listening as the foundation for all spirituality; (3) some echoes of the theme in the history of spirituality; (4) the contrast between an implicit and an explicit theme; (5) some ramifications today. Christian listening begins, of course, with the Old Testament, R6bert P. Maloney CM writes from Rome, where he serves as a mem-ber of the general administration of the Vincentian Fathers and Brothers. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. September-October 1992 659 Maloney ¯ Listening where listening plays a vital role, especially in the Deuteronomic and prophetic traditions. Yahweh often complains that, when he speaks, his people "do not listen." Conversely, the prophets are preeminent listeners; they hear what Yahweh has to say and then speak in his name. "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," says the boy Samuel as he begins his prophetic career. Listening recurs again and again in the New Testament, where a study of Johannine literature, for instance, would reveal listening as the key to eter-nal life. "Whoever is of God listens to every word God speaks. The reason you do not hear is that you are not of God . If someone is true to my word he shall never see death" On 8:47, 51). Listening in Luke's Gospel In Luke's Gospel the listening theme is quite explicit. For Luke, as for the entire New Testament, God takes the initiative through his word, which breaks into the world as good news call-ing for human attention and response. Mary the model listener. As with almost all the important themes in Lukan theology, the listening theme is introduced in the infancy narratives. These narratives provide a summary of the theology that Luke will weave through his Gospel. The listening theme is among the most prominent Lukan motifs (parenthetically, one might add that in Luke's Gospel another theme is at work in many of the listening stories; contrary to the expected cultural patterns of the writer's time, a woman is the model listener presented to the reader). Mary is evangelized in Luke's first two chapters. She is the first to hear the good news. She is the ideal disciple, the model for all believers. Mary listens reflectively to Gabriel, who announces the good news of God's presence and tells her of the extraordinary child whom she is to bear; to Elizabeth, who proclaims her blessed among women because she has believed that the word of the Lord would be fulfilled in he~; to shepherds, who tell her and others the message which has been revealed to them about the child, the good news that a Savior is born; to Simeon, who proclaims a song of praise for the salvation that has come to all nations and a prophecy that ominously forebodes the cross; to Anna, who praises God in Mary's presence and keeps speaking to all who are ready to hear; to Jesus himself, who tells her about his relationship with his heavenly Father, which must take precedence over everything. 660 Review for Religious Luke pictures Mary as listening to the Angel Gabriel with wonderment, questioning what it might mean, deciding to act on it, and afterwards meditating on the mystery of God's ways, reflecting on them in her heart. The theme of listening later in Luke's Gospel. Luke uses three brief stories to illustrate this theme of listening discipleship, namely, that those who listen to the word of God and act on it are the true followers of Jesus. (1) His mother and brothers came to be with him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. He was told, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you." He told them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who listen to the word of God and act upon it" (8:19-21). In this story Luke changes the Markan emphasis (cf. Mk 3:31- 35) radically. While Mark depreciates the role of Jesus' mother and relatives, Luke extols it, echoing his first two chapters and show-ing that Mary is the ideal disciple, who listens to God's word and acts on it. (2) On their journey Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home. She had a sis-ter named Mary, who seated herself atthe Lord's feet and listened to his words. Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to him and said, "Lord are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me." The Lord in reply said to her: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it" (10:38-42). Even though Jesus' statement about the one thing necessary has been subject to innumerable interpretations, there is little doubt about the point of this story in the context of Luke's Gospel. Mary has chosen the better part because she is sitting at Jesus's feet and listening to his words, just as any true disciple does. While there are many other themes in the story (such as the role of women and the role of the home-church in early Christianity, which is reinforced here through a Lukan addition), Luke empha-sizes the basis of discipleship: listening to the word of God. That is the better part (see Lk 8:4-21). (3) While he was saying this a woman from the crowd called out "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that September- October 1992 661 Maloney ¯ Listening nursed you! . Rather," he replied, "blest are they who lis-ten to the word of God and keep it." This passage interrupts, rather puzzlingly, a series of contro-versies that Jesus is involved in during the journey to Jerusalem. But Luke inserts it to clarify the meaning of discipleship once more: real happiness does not lie in physical closeness to Jesus, nor in blood relationship with him, but in listening to the word of God and acting on it. Listening as the Basis for Spirituality All spirituality revolves around self-transcendence. As a work-ing definition for spirituality, we might use one proposed by Sandra Schneiders: "The experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one per-ceives." l For Christians spirituality involves "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Rm 13:14), "giving away one's life rather than saving it up" (Mk 8:35, Mt 16:25, Lk 9:24, Jn 12:25), and other phrases that imply self-transcendence. The self is not obliterated through self-transcendence; rather, it becomes fully actualized.2 That is the Christian paradox: in giving oneself, one finds one's true self. In that sense authentic love of God, of the neighbor, and of self come together. Authors put this in different ways. For Bernard Lonergan self-transcendence occurs in the radical drive of the human spirit, which yearns for meaning, truth, value, and love. Authenticity, then, "results from long-sustained exercise of attentiveness, intel-ligence, reasonableness, responsibility.''3 For Karl Rahner the human person is the event of the absolute self-communication of God. In his foundational works Rahner describes the human per-son as essentially a listener, one who is always awaiting a possible word of revelation. Only in Jesus, the self-communication of God, is the human person ultimately fulfilled. At the core of the his-torical human person is a gnawing hunger for the other, for abso-lute Value. A particular spirituality is a way in which this longing for the absolute is expressed.4 But this inner yearning for truth and love, this "reaching out," as Henri Nouwen expresses it, can only be satisfied by a word from without--spoken or enfleshed--that reveals what true 662 Review for Religious humanity really is. In the human person the fundamental dispo-sition for receiving that word or Word is listening. It is worth notirig here that Genesis, the wisdom books, and the Johannine tradition all seize on the concept of the Word as the way in which God initiates and breaks into human history. The creating word bears within it its own immediate response: "Let there be light, and there was light." But the word spoken to the human person, who in God's image and likeness rules with free-dom over all creation, must be listened to and responded to freely. Of course, listening here is used in the broadest sense. It includes seeing, hearing, sensing, feeling, perceiving. "Attentiveness" might serve as the term for the various ways in which the human person is ready to grasp what comes from with-out. Listening in this sense is the indispensable precondition for self-transcendence. Without it the word that comes from without goes unheard, the truth that draws the human mind to a vision beyond itself goes unperceived, the love that seeks to capture the heart goes unrequited. Is this why the saints have so stressed the importance of lis-tening in prayer? ls this why obedience has played such an influ-ential role in the tradition of religious communities? Is this why the seeking of counsel has always been regarded as one of the signs of true wisdom? Is this why the Word made flesh and the word of God in the Scriptures are at the center of all Christian spiritual-ity? Is this why the reading of the Scriptures in the liturgy and communion with the Word himself in his self-giving, sacrificial love are "the source and summit" of genuine Christian living? Listening in Vincent de Paul One can find echoes of the listening theme in many tradi-tions. Ignatian discernment, which has exerted such a forceful influence on the countless people who have made the Spiritual Exercises since the sixteenth century, is a means of listening atten-tively to what God is saying and allowing God's word to work conversion within us. Francis de Sales, whose Introduction to the Devout Life has been read by millions since its first publication in 1609, spoke of the need to "be devoted to the word of God whether you hear it in familiar conversation with spiritual friends or in sermons." He urged his readers, "Always listen to it with attention."5 September-October 1992 663 Maloney ¯ Listening Here, however, I will focus briefly on another seventeenth-century figure, Vincent de Paul, whose writings are less well known, but whose charism has influenced enormous numbers of men and women, not only in the two communities he founded (the Vincentians and the Daughters of Charity), but in other com-munities that have sprung up under his inspiration, and also in the hundreds of thousands of Ladies of Charity and St. Vincent de Paul Society members throughout the world. The central place of listening in spirituality is not explicit in the conferences and writings of St. Vincent. But the spirituality he proposes includes several key themes in which the importance of listening is evident. Humility the Foundation of Evangelical Perfection Vincent calls humility "the foundation of all evangelical per-fection and the core of the spiritual life.''6 For him truly humble people see everything as gift. The humble recognize that God is seeking to enter their lives again and again so that he may speak to them. They are alert, they listen for God's word, they are eager to receive God's saving love. The humble know that the truth which sets them free comes from without: through God's word, through the cries of the poor, through the church, through the community in which they live. There is probably no theme that St. Vincent emphasized more. He described humility as the origin of all the good that we do.7 He told the Daughters of Charity: "If you establish your-selves in it, what will happen? You will make this company a par-adise, and people will rightly say that it is a group of the happiest people on earth . ,,8 Humility and listening are closely allied in that listening is the basic attitude of those who know that fullness of life, salvation, wisdom, truth, and love come from without. Brother Robineau, Vincent's secretary, whose reflections about the saint have just been published, notes that this attitude was especially evident in Vincent's conversations with the poor, with whom he would sit and converse with great friendliness and humility.9 St. Vincent loved to call the poor the real "lords and mas-ters" ,0 in the church. It is they especially who must be listened to and obeyed. In the reign of God, the world of faith, they are the kings and queens; we are the servants. Recognizing the special 664 Review for Religious place of the poor in the new order established by Jesus, Vincent was eager not only that his followers would serve and evangelize the poor, but also that they would hear God speaking in those they served or, as we would put it today, that they would allow themselves to be evangelized.1~ Reading Sacred Scripture St. Vincent was convinced that the word of God never fails. It is like "a house built upon rock.''~2 He therefore begins each chapter of his rule and many individual paragraphs with a citation from Scripture. He asks the members of the Congregation of the Mission to read a chapter of the New Testament every day. He wants them to listen to the word of God and to make it the foun-dation of all they do: "Let each of us accept the truth of the fol-lowing statement and try to make it our most fundamental principle: Christ's teaching will never let us down, while worldly wisdom always will." ~3 Abelly, Vincent's first biographer, notes, in a colorful passage, how devoted the saint was to listening to the word of God: "He seemed to suck meaning from passages of the Scriptures as a baby sucks milk from its mother, and he extracted the core and sub-stance from the Scriptures so as to be strengthened and have his soul nourished by them--and he did this in such a way that in all his words and actions he appeared to be filled with Jesus Christ.''~4 "Obeying" Everyone The word "obedience" (ob + audire = to listen thoroughly) is related etymologically to the word "listen" (audire). For St. Vincent the role of obedience in community was clearly very important. But he also extended obedience beyond its usual mean-ing, that all are to obey the legitimate commands of superiors. Using a broadened notion of obedience, he encouraged his fol-lowers to listen to and obey everyone, so that they might hear more fully what God is saying and act on it: Our obedience ought not limit itself only to those who have the right to command us, but ought to strive to move beyond that . Let us therefore consider everyone as our superior and so place ourselves beneath them and, even more, beneath the least of them, outdoing them in defer-ence, agreeableness, and service.Is September-October 1992 665 Maloney ¯ Listening~ Obedience moreover, is not the duty of subjects alone, but of superiors too. In fact, superiors should be the first to obey, by listening to the members well and by seeking counsel: "There would be nothing more beautiful in the world, my daughter, than the Company of the Daughters of Charity if. obedience flour-ished everywhere, with the sister servant the first to obey, to seek counsel, and to submit herself." 16 An Implicit Theme vs. an Explicit One It is clear that listening plays a significant, even if unaccented, role in each of the themes described above. The importance of lis-tening is not, therefore, a "forgotten truth" (to use Karl Rahner's phrase) in the writings of Ignatius Loyola, or Francis de Sales, or Vincent de Paul, or in the overall spiritual tradition; neither, however, is it a central one. Therein lie two dangers. First, truths that remain secondary or merely implicit run the risk of being underemphasized or distorted. For example, reading a chapter of the word of God daily can degenerate into fulfilling an obligation or studying a text unless listening attentively retains its preeminent place. Likewise, the practice of humility, when distorted, can result in subservience to the voices without and deafness to the voices within, where God also speaks. In such a cir-cumstance, "humility" might mask lack of courage in speaking up, deficient self-confidence, or a negative self-image. A distorted emphasis on obedience can cause subjects to listen exclusively to superiors, no matter what other voices might say, even voices that conscience demands that we listen to. Conversely, it could cause a superior to insist loudly that he only has to "listen" to the advice of others, .not follow it (whereas in such instances he may usu-ally listen to almost no one but himself). But when listening retains a place at the center, the danger of distortion is lessened. Reading the word of God, practicing humility, and obeying are seen as means for hearing what God is saying. The accent remains on attentiveness. Second, when the importance of listening is underempha-sized, there is a subtle tendency to focus on particular practices to the detriment of others or to be attentive to certain voices while disregarding others. For instance, a member of a community might pray mightily, seeking to discern what God is saying, but pay little attention to what a superior or spiritual director who 666 Review for Religious knows the person well is trying to say. He or she may listen "tran-scendentally" or "vertically," so to speak, but show little concern for listening "horizontally." Along similar lines, a superior might be very confident that, because of the grace of his office, God lets him know what his will is, while other persons, by the grace of their office, are desperately trying to signify to the same supe-rior that God is saying something quite different. The simple truth is that we must listen to many voices since God speaks to us in many ways. Some of these ways are obviously privileged, but none has an exclusive hold on the truth. Some Ramifications In his wonderful book on community, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: The first service that one owes to others in the community consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins by listening to his Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is because of God's love for us that he not only gives us his Word but also lends us his ear. So it is his work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one ser-vice they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either, he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life. 17 If listening is so crucial to healthy spirituality, then how might members of communities grow in it, both as individuals and in common? Listening as Individuals From reflection on the church's long spiritual tradition, one might glean a number of qualities that characterize good listen-ers. Here I will touch briefly on four, which seem to me crucial for better listening. The first indispensable quality for good listening is humiliW. September- October 1992 667 It is "the foundation of all evangelical perfection, the core of the spiritual life," as Vincent de Paul put it.is Humble people sense their incompleteness, their need for God and other human per-sons. So they listen. Humility acknowledges that everything is gift; it sees clearly that all good things come from God. St. Vincent writes to a priest of the Mission: "Because we recognize that this abundant grace comes from God, a.grace which he keeps on giving only to the humble who realize that all the good done through them comes from God, I beg him with all my heart to give you more and more the spirit of humility." t9 But consciousness of one's incompleteness has a further dimension. It is not only "vertical," so to speak, but "horizontal"; we depend not only on God direcdy, but on God's creation around us. Truth, then, comes from listening not only to God himself, but to other human persons, through whom God's presence and words are mediated to us. The hunger for truth and love that lie at the heart of the mystery of the human person is satisfied only from without. We are inherently social, living within a complex network of relationships with individuals and with society. It is only when what is heard is pondered that its full mean-ing is revealed. The second quality necessary for better listening, then, is prayerful reflectiveness. While at times one can hear God speak even in a noisy crowd, it is often only in silence that one hears the deepest voices, that one plumbs the depth of meaning. The Psalmist urges us: "Be still and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). The Gospels, particularly Luke's, attest that Jesus turns to his Father again and again in prayer to listen to him and to seek his will. Prayer is then surely one of the privileged ways of lis-tening. But it must always be validated by life. One who listens to "what God is telling me" in prayer, but who pays little heed to what others are saying in daily life, is surely suspect. Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also (and often first of all) in the people around us. Because prayer is a meeting with God himself, what we say in prayer is much less important than what God says to us. When there is too much emphasis on what we say or do during prayer, it can easily become a "good work," an "achievement," a "speech," rather than a "grace," a "gift," a "gratuitous word" from God. 668 Review for Religious Naturally, prayer, like all human activities, involves structures, personal discipline, persevering effort. But the emphasis must always be on the presence of the personal God, to whose word we must listen attentively as he speaks to us the good news of his love for us and for others. In an era when there is much noise, where the media, if we so choose, speak to us all day long, one must surely ask: Are we able to distinguish the voice of God among the many voices that are speaking? Is God's word able to say "new things" to us? Are we still capable of wonder? As may be evident to the reader, the word wonder has an etymological kinship, through German, with wound. Is the word of God able to wound us, to pen-etrate the membrane that seals us off, that encloses us within ourselves? Can it break into our consciousness and change us? The third necessary quality is respect for the words of human persons. It is here perhaps that the tradition was weakest. It did emphasize humility. It Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also in the people around us. did accent the need to hear what God is saying and to discern his will. But it rarely focused explicitly, in the context of spirituality, on the central place of listening to other people. Many contemporary documents put great emphasis on the dignity of human persons and on the importance of hearing the cries that come from their hearts. Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes and the encyclical Redemptor Hominis see the human person as the center of creation,z° Centesimus Annus puts it strikingly: "Today the church's social doctrine focuses especially on man . ,,2~ Respect for human persons acknowledges that God lives in them and that he reveals himself in and through them. It acknowl-edges that words of life come from the lowly as well as the pow-erful. In fact, St. Vincent became gradually convinced that "the poor have the true religion" and that we must be evangelized by them.22 Many of the recently published texts of Brother Louis Robineau, which relate his pe,rsonal experience of Vincent de Paul, attest to the saint's deep, respect for persons of all types. September-October 1992 669 Maloney ¯ Listening Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authentic communities. Robineau notes how well Vincent listened to them: poor and rich, lay and clerical, peasant and royal.23 In this context, the process of questioning persons that is involved in the quest for truth takes on a new light. When there is deep respect for all human persons, questioning involves a genuine search for enlightenment, rather than being, in some hidden way, refutation or accusation. Questioning is a tool for delving deeper, for unpeeling layers of meaning, for knowing the other person bet-ter, for digging toward the core of the truth. As we attempt to develop increasing respect for human persons, surely we must ask some challenging questions. Are we really able to hear the cries of the poor, of the most oppressed: the women and chil-dren, who are often the poorest members of society; those discriminated against because of race, color, nationality, religion; the AIDS victims, who are often shunned by their families and by the physically healthy; those on the "edges of life," the helpless infants and the helpless aged, who are unable to speak for themselves? Are we able to hear the counsel given to us by others: by spiritual directors, by members of our own com-munities, by the documents of the church and our own religious congregations? Are we sensitive to the contributions that come from other sources of human wisdom (like economics, sociology, the audiovisual media, the massive data now available in com-puterized form) that often speak concretely about the needs of the poor, that can help us find and combat the causes of poverty or that can assist us in the new evangelization called for by the church? Are we alert, "listening," to the "signs of the times": the increasing gap between the rich and the poor and the repeated call for justice made by the church; the movement toward unity within global society, which is now accompanied by an opposite movement toward separatism and nationalism; the growth of the church in the southern hemisphere, which contrasts with its diminishment in many places in the northern hemisphere. The fourth quality needed is attentiveness, one of the most important signs of respect for the human person. It is the first step in all evangelization, the prerequisite for serving Christ in the poor. It is only when the servant is attentive to the needs of the master (in this case, the poor person) that he really knows what to 670 Review for Religious bring him. It is only when the evangelizer is alert to the needs of the listener that she is able to communicate genuinely good news. Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authen-tic communities. If community members do not pay close atten-tion to the opinions and needs of those they live with, each person becomes isolated even if still physically present to others. Those living in community must therefore continually seek renewed ways of listening to each other and of sharing their prayer, their apostolic experience, their struggles in community, their successes and failures, their joys and sorrows. Attentiveness is also of the greatest importance as one seeks counsel. Robineau relates how often St. Vincent asked others their' opinion about matters at hand, "even the least in the house." He often heard him say that "four eyes are better than two, and six better than four.''24 Robineau relates an interesting incident in this regard: One day he did me the honor of telling me that it was nec-essary to make it our practice, when consulting someone about some matter, always to recount everything that would be to the advantage of the opposing party without omitting anything, just as if it were the opposing party itself that was there to give its reasons and defend itself, and that it was thus that consultations should be carried out.zs Listening in Community Meetings, along with consultations and questionnaires of var-ious sorts, are among the primary means of listening in commu-nity. Like most realities, meetings are "for better or for worse." Almost all of us have experienced some that we find very fruitful and others that we would be happy to forget about. To put it in another way, meetings can be a time of grace or a time when sin threatens grace. Communities, like individuals, can become caught up in them-selves. A healthy self-concern can gradually slip into an unhealthy self-preoccupation. Outgoing zeal can be replaced by self-cen-tered security seeking. Communities can be rescued from this state, in a way analogous to that of individuals, only through cor-porate humility,26 a communal effort to listen to God and com-munal attentiveness to the words of others. September-October 1992 671 Maloney ¯ Listening Meetings can be a time when sin threatens grace. When there is no listening, they create strife and division. They disrupt rather than unify. They deepen the darkness rather than focus the light. Among the signs that sin is at work in meetings is fighting. When participants do not listen, there is inevitable strife, bad feelings, disillusionment, bitterness. Such meetings result in fleeing. The group backs away from major decisions, especially those that demand some conversion; it refuses to listen to the prophets; it seeks refuge in the status quo. A further consequence is fractur-ing. When participants do not listen, badly divided splinter groups form; the "important" conversations take place in the corridors rather than in the meeting hall; politics, in the worst sense, takes the place of discernment. Meetings can be an opportunity for grace. They provide us with a wonderful opportunity for listening and discernment. They enable communities to work toward decisions together, as a com-munity. In order for this to happen, those who meet must be com-mitted to sharing their common heritage, creating a climate of freedom for discussion, and planning courageously for the future. In meetings where God is at work, we recall our heritage in order to renew it. We listen to and retell "our story." We recount and rehear the deeds of the Lord in our history. We celebrate our gratitude in the Eucharist and let thanksgiving fill our hearts, for we have heard the wonderful works of the Lord. We share com-munal prayer and reflection because the faith of others strength-ens us. The atmosphere will be grace-filled if all are eager to listen to each other. If all arrive without hardened positions and preju-dices, convinced that the group must seek the truth together, then the groundwork for the emergence of truth has already been laid. The content, no matter how concrete or seemingly pedes-trian, will be grace-filled if all hear the word of God together, listen to each other's reflections on that word, and make deci-sions on that basis. The decisions of a listening community will flow from its heritage while developing the heritage in the light of contemporary circumstances.27 Meetings play an important role within God's providence. God provides for the growth of communities through wise deci-sions that govern their future, especially the training of the young, the ongoing formation of all members, and care for the aging. But such decisions can be made only if the members of the com- 672 Review for Religious munity are willing to listen to the data that describes its present situation and projects its future needs. Communal decision mak-ing, based on realistic projections, is one of the ways in which providence operates in community life. Failure to listen to the data--difficult though it may sometimes be to "hear" it honestly-- results in calamitous "blindness" and "deafness." The listening individual and the listening community will surely grow, for listening is the foundation of all spirituality. To the listener come truth, wisdom, the assurance of being loved. To those who fail to listen comes increasing isolation. Jesus, like the prophets, knew that listening made demands and consequently was often lacking. He lamented its absence: "Sluggish indeed is this people's heart. They have scarcely heard with their ears, they have firmly closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under-stand with their hearts, and turn back to me, and I should heal them" (Mt 13:15). He also rejoiced in its presence: "But . . . blessed are your ears because they hear" (Mt 13:16). In recent years many congregations have attempted to assist individuals, local communities, and assemblies to listen better, In workshops much effort has been put into fostering practical lis-tening skills. But are there ways in which communities, particu-larly during initial formation, can better communicate the importance of listening as foundational for growth? If listening is the foundation of all spirituality, as this article has tried to show, then it is crucial for personal growth and for the vitality of all communities. Notes ~ Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 684. 2 See Ga 2:19-21: "I have been crucified with Christ, and the life I live now is not my own: Christ is living in me. Of course, I still live my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." The Greek text identifies Jesus as the self-giving one. It also makes it clear that self-transcendence does not wipe out true human-ity, but fulfills it. 3 Bernard Lonergan, A Third Collection, ed. Frederick Crowe (New York: Paulist, 1985), p. 9. 4 See K. Rahner, Grundkurs des Glaubens (Freiburg: Herder, 1984), pp. 35f, 42f. Septewtber-October 1992 673 Maloney ¯ Listening s Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans. John K. Ryan (New York: Doubleday, 1972), pp. 107 and 108. 6 Common Rules H, 7. 7 SV IX, 674; see Common Rules H, 7. 8 SV X, 439. 9 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racontdpar son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.I.L., 1991), §46 and §54. 10 See SVIX, 119; X, 332. 1~ See Evangelii Nuntiandi, §15. 12 Common Rules H, 1. ,3 Ibid. 14 Abelly, Book III, 72-73. ~s SV XI, 69. ~6SV IX, 526. ~7 D. Bonhoeffer, Life Together (London: SCM Press, 1954), p. 75. ~Common Rules H, 7. 19 SV I, 182. 20 Gaudium et Spes, §§9, 12, and 22; Redemptor Hominis, passim. 21 Centesimus Annus, ~54. 22 SV XII, 171. 23 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racont? par son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.LL., 1991), especially §§71-83. 24 Ibid, §52. 25 Ibid, §118. 26 Vincent de Paul repeatedly emphasized the need for corporate humility if the congregations he founded were to grow. See SV II, 233: "I think the spirit of the Mission must be to seek its greatness in lowli-ness and its reputation in the love of its abjection." 27 In his essays on spirituality, Karl Rahner distinguishes between "material" and "formal" imitation of Christ. In material imitation, one seeks to do the concrete things that Jesus did, ignoring the extent to which everything he did was influenced by his social context. In formal imitation, one seeks to find the core meaning of what Jesus said or did and apply it within the changed social context. 674 Review for Religious JOHN WICKHAM Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth Both in coming to understand our own spiritual develop-ment and (should we be engaged in spiritual direction) in reflecting on where a directee of ours may presently be moving, a sense of the various kinds of transition that often occur can be a great help. I assume here that spiritual growth (changes, new data) are to be expected, are even to be sought. Quite a number of transitions are possible. One can move, for example, from a life of mortal sin to a life of sanctifying grace, from a rather legalistic reliance on external rules to a life of per-sonal choices; or, at the other end of the spectrum, one can move from a devout life to a life of advanced mystical prayer. But two other transitions deserve, I think, special attention today. The two developments I have in mind are often at issue in the Spiritual Exercises ofSt. Ignatiushone of them in the First and Second Weeks taken as a whole, and the other in the unit formed by the Third and Fourth Weeks. In his active spirituality St. Ignatius may be said to have reshaped the "Three Ways" (purgative, illuminative, unitive) into two spiritual transitions, each of which reveals both a negative and a positive side. This essay will attempt to describe and study these two major movements that occur in many dedicated lives. After each of them has been clarified, their relationship and especially their differ-ences will require comment. John Wickham sJ is director of the Ignatian Centre of Spirituality, which prepares and accredits directors. His address is 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec H4B 2A7; Canada. Septentber-October 1992 675 The First Transition Assuming, as St. Ignatius does at the start of his First Week Rules for Discernment, that we are in touch with persons living a good Christian life, striving to get free of sinful ways and to grow into closer union with God, then this first important tran-sition may be seen to move from relying mainly on getting emo-tional satisfaction to discerning spiritual consolations received from the Lord and felt in the heart. This formulation makes a contrast between emotions and feelings (or felt knowing). Emotions in this usage refer to per-sonal responses to objects in the external world around us (through our five senses) and to interpersonal events in our social setting. There is nothing wrong, of course, with emotional expe-riences. Emotions are often the main stuff of human life. In their endless varieties they fill most of our daily hours. We wake up in one mood and at night perhaps we drift off to sleep in the grip of another. Between times we may be surprised by shifts and changes of emotion or brood over a lingering mystery of emotional confusion. Persons without emotional reactions are hard to bear. We might wonder if they suffer from some disorder. But perhaps their emotions are not warm and pleasant but of the cold, off-putting kind. Whatever their nature, we can be sure that our emotional responses provide the real texture of human life. In themselves they are part and parcel of God's creation. And like other creatures they may be put to good use or they may get us into trouble. Returning to the formula given above, what needs emphasis at this point is the habit of relying too much on emotional satisfac-tions. When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. We can become stuck right there. Without realizing the fact, we may be expect-ing God to deliver emotional satisfaction to us and we get angry when God fails to do so. We pray, in effect, a self-centered prayer, "my will be done on earth--not Thine!" While nothing is wrong with emotions in themselves, we can put too much stock in them. Let us be honest, many of us do so a good part of the time. We come to rely almost entirely on our own emotional states. If they are satisfying, "God is good!" If not, "God has rejected me!"--or we imagine things are going wrong. 676 Revie'w for Religious One of the major troubles of social life is to have others inflict their moods on us--because they tend to interpret the nature of reality in terms of current emotions. "The emotion that grips me now tells me who I am and what the world is doing to me." Even if we can avoid inflicting our emo-tional state on others, we still often experience the world in accord with our emotional state at the moment. As the poet Pope tells us, "All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye"--and the world looks rosy through rose-colored glasses. Our emotions easily become a lens that colors our world--for the time they last. This is often how we are as we begin our spiritual journey. There is nothing very surprising about it. And so a well-known stage of purification consists in getting free of emotional demands. First comes the step of noticing our emotional reactions, of naming them as they occur, and of refusing to identify our being with their con-tinuance. In order to become liberated from their insistent claim upon us, we learn to do small penances. In the past there has often been a danger of coming to despise our own emotions--an undesirable side-effect when struggling to gain freedom by willpower alone from these emotional claims. ~Without further treatment of that point, I merely note here the need to avoid puritanical efforts in this transition. We are dealing with spiritual growth, which is always initiated and brought about by divine grace. We do, of course, need to cooperate with such graces, and small penitential acts are forms of cooperation. But our highly emotive personal responses are right and true in themselves. Even if emotional self-denial is necessary for a cer-tain time, we will need to return to our emotions just as soon as we can get free of their tyranny. Then they may become, not only right and true, but beautiful and even holy. Emotional self-denial is only a temporary ploy within a larger movement of growth, not the main aim of the spiritual life. An egotistical tendency (if it is present) to invest our sense of self mainly in our emotional satisfactions needs to be purified during the First Week exercises. That is, of course, a rather sub-jective way of approaching the areas of sinfulness that call for purification, but it seems appropriate here because I am focus- When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. September-October 1992 677 ,Wick~ ham ¯ Key Transitions,, ing on interior transitions. The Rules for Discernment them-selves lay heavy stress on the desolations to be expected in a per-son striving to move forward, and on the need to persevere in that intention despite the losses of emotional satisfaction that may be experienced. Spiritual Feeling In the more positive phases of the continuing transition, spir-itual consolations arising from moments of union with Jesus the Lord may make their presence felt as one enters the Second Week of the Exercises. It is assumed at this point that exercitants have already heard the call of Christ to follow him and have responded (with varying degrees of enthusiasm) to that summons. And dur-ing the contemplations of the public life that follow, each one must learn how to discern true from false consolations. An elementary principle to be noted here is that consolations of the Lord are not to be identified as "feeling good" and deso-lations as "feeling bad." Many today use the term "feeling" in a general sense that includes (or mainly denotes) what I have described above as emotions. That is a defensible usage, but in this essay I wish to separate the term "feelings" from the term "emo-tions" as already defined. I want to cast light on the rather dif-ferent movements we may experience at a deeper, more interior level of our being. In other words, I wish to define feeling (an enduring state) and feelings (momentary events or "touches") as personal responses that occur at our spiritual center in the core of our being, and not primarily in our social world. Humans may be said to enjoy a double-leveled awareness, one with outer and inner dimensions. In this discussion I am using emotions to refer to responses at the outer level, and feeling to refer to responses at the inner level. Quite correctly, it should be insisted that outer and inner lev-els are continually interacting together. Whena sudden event moves us wholly, it is often true that emotions and feelings are impossible to distinguish. Tears start from our eyes, our heart is fully engaged, we cry out with joy or sorrow, we even experience sensations in our body (waves of heat or cold, tingling of the spine, pressures in hands or feet, a burning forehead, and so on). Similar points may be made about calmer experiences as well. 678 Review for Religious In fact, it is normal for human beings to "sense" a two-way intercourse between outer and inner events, between what occurs in the social world and simultaneously in the interior feeling. Our reflective capacity, which is not merely mental but also passion-ate, is precisely what makes our awareness human. Our con-sciousness is multidimensional. While we know and feel, we also know we are knowing and feeling. And when we respond emo-tionally, we are aware at the same time of various intuitions under-lying our most emphatic emotions. Even when we "forget our self" in some activity or other, that welcome effect is considered unusual--an exception to the rule, and never total. Besides, an egotistical self-awareness is not the only kind of selfhood we may experience. We may be full of self-doubt, for example, or eagerness, or mistrust, or calm happiness, and so on. The Inner Self All the same, what is transpiring in this first transition is pre-cisely a development of interior selfhood. As certain modes of dominance by the outer self are overcome, we receive a new growth of inner self---a very important transition in anyone's life. Today we may take it for granted that the "self" we are talk-ing about, no matter how much trouble it may get us into, is a positive value in its own right, not to be identified with mere self-ishness or false egotism. Only fairly recently did this new assump-tion gain acceptance. For example, in The Imitation of Christ the term "self" was rarely used except in a pejorative sense, and it followed that one's main goal was to get free of it as much as possible. That view continued to be the dominant one until only a few decades ago. The shift that has taken place so recently has brought with it a new sense of the human subject, of selfhood as a valuable reality-- however much it may need to be discovered, owned, purified, and developed. A much stronger awareness of the "inner-self"--at least as a potential reality--has arisen among many members of our secu-lar culture today. Often we know it first for negative reasons: we are hurt, we feel misunderstood, we are unable to communicate our special desires or intentions, we are judged wrongly or become unsure of what we really meant. It causes a great deal of confusion, September-October 1992 679 anger, resentment, and so on. But at some point or other it may dawn on us that, despite the urgent need we may be feeling for much more growth and clarity, our inner self is a reality, valu-able in and for its own simple being. We may begin to experi-ence our own goodness as a fact. It need not, and cannot, be earned or proven. It is just "given." Through faith I may know that my personal existence is received from God who does not choose to make me without lov-ing me. My selfhood is real and my unique being is loved--even holy. That realization is such a remarkable event in anyone's life that it calls for prolonged attention and care during the earlier stages of spiritual growth. Since I assume that the above reality is widely recognized and appreciated today, I wish to focus now upon the kind of transition involved in its realization. An individual coming through that key transition begins to experience things in a personal way that may be called heartfelt. They are spiritual feelings and illuminations in the inner self. These consolations (or desolations) differ noticeably in qual-ity from emotions experienced in the outer, social world. And the transition from relying mainly on emotions to rel~ing mainly upon spiritual consolations (feeling) is a very significant "moment" in one's development. Not a False but a True Self This transition has been the main aim of novitiate programs ii~ recent centuries, although in most cases the novitiate was directed toward the positive adoption of each congregation's way of life. In other words, a single spiritual "style" or mode of oper-ation was proposed for every novice to imitate and put into prac-tice, and what needed to be sacrificed in order to obtain this goal was the ordinary tendency to demand emotional satisfactions for oneself. The self in question was taken to be wholly "selfish" and needed to be "offered up." Today a single spiritual lifestyle imposed on everyone alike has been replaced by "the charism of the founder/foundress" in a way that leaves room for the unique selfhood of each member to receive recognition and approval. As a result, the sense of self in question had to be clarified. The false self, which needs to be purified, is one that demands 680 Revievo for Religious emotional satisfactions and is upset when these are not forth-coming. But the true self, to be realized through penance and pa.tient striving against desolations, is received as a gift from God and recognized in consolations consisting of spiritual feeling and preconceptual knowing (experiences of sentir). A special way of following Christ, modeled in each congre-gation by the founder/foundress, will enable new members to undergo a radical purification of their conscious (or outer) self in the process of identifying their center of being in their heart's core. Members of vowed congregations who were trained in the older system have likely gone through an adjustment of this sort during recent decades. Each one will need to say how he or she has made the required adaptation, if indeed it has taken place, and what precisely was involved. But in general it may be said with some confidence that this first transition, which is of primary importance in spiritual growth, has been clarified as the emergence of an inner self united with the Lord in discipleship. What prevents its growth is usually the habit of expecting or relying upon emotional satisfactions, a habit which must be changed if the desired transition is to take place. Once it has been changed, and soon after the new inner self has grown accustomed to spiritual consolations, a reintegration of the'whole person with her or his emotional responses should then commence. This process will involve the formation of new social habits on the basis of the inner self so recently received from the Lord as a true actuation of one's potential being. The Second Transition An expectation of further growth should not disappear from our purview for too long after the first transition has been com-pleted. True enough, a directee who begins to enjoy true spiritual consolations does require considerable time (perhaps several years) to integrate them and create a new way of life on the basis of the inner self they bring alive. But the moment will inevitably come when remembering past graces will no longer suffice. As soon as signs of this new need begin to appear, the director (if not the directee) ought to recognize them. Such signs may point to the onset of a second, rather different transition. What might signs of this new sort be like? In general, con-solations of "the Second Week type" curiously do not seem to Septentber-October 1992 681 Wickbam ¯ Key Transitions operate "as well as" ones of an earlier stage. In different contexts, we should notice, St. Ignatius employs the same word, "consola-tion," in somewhat different senses. In the First Week, for exam-ple, which deals with persons who seek to be more and more purified from their sins, the ferm simply means experiences lead-ing to closer union with God. But in the Second Week it means experiences of persons bound in close discipleship to the Lord; because these apparent consolations may come from God or from the enemy, they need to be examined much more carefully. It is my contention here that the term is further varied in the Third and Fourth Weeks: if it gains in nuance by moving from the purgative to the illuminative way, we should not be surprised that it varies again in moving to the unitive way. It is usually rather puzzling to find that "what used to make me happy no longer does so." Naturally enough, we normally expect things to continue as they were. But the fact of the matter is that we may change so significantly (because of Our authentic spiritual growth) that what used to console us does not console us any more. Former ways, including ways of praying, that we had first discovered with some difficulty and later came to enjoy with a sense of real progress now seem to leave us cold. They no longer satisfy our hearts, but instead cause a certain malaise or uneasiness. It can be quite disconcerting. What can have gone wrong? At first we may fasten on various explanations: we are not trying hard enough; we have grown com-placent and lack humility; we should return to our former graces with renewed enthusiasm, and so on. But try as we will, the loss of taste, the lack of any real sense of meaning and .value in our usual way of life, continues to bother us. Of course, many different factors may be relevant in the case of each person. But I want to introduce the possibility of a new kind of transition as an important consideration in many cases. If indeed the divine Spirit is moving us to a new stage of growth, then we are obliged to give it some attention. Unitive Experiences Since what I will be describing his to do with the unitive way, let me begin by insisting that this traditional stage of spiritual development is not exceptional, not meant for only a very few persons, and not regularly accompanied by unusual mystical phe- 682 Review for Religious nomena. Unitive graces are an ordinary occurrence in most devout lives, just as are those of the illuminative and purgative ways. (Besides, concretely speaking, even after one has discerned unitive experiences, he or she is not usually separated for very long from renewed moments of purification and illumination. Perhaps one should stress the fact that occasional unitive graces do not mean one is "firmly established" in the unitive way--what-ever that may mean.) It is my conviction that the Third and Fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises cannot be reduced to a "confirmation of Second Week graces." That may be legitimate in many cases, but the limitation ought to be spelled out rather than turned into a general rule. Let me be explicit: a limitation of Third and Fourth Week graces occurs quite legitimately when the individual person has for the first time received graces belonging to the first transition or when a notable deepening of that transition has been granted. In other words, the person's "inner self" has been realized or deep-ened in graces of union with Christ--and this is quite new for this individual. In that case (and it is a very important develop-ment) the Third and Fourth Weeks are likely to consist mainly of graces that confirm the key event that has so recently transformed the person involved. The Passion of Jesus may be shared in many different ways-- even by the same people at different times. I may cling to the cross in a sort of desperation if I am in serious danger of falling into mortal sin. Or during a crisis of decision making or of self-doubt I may dwell in the Garden of Gethsemane. Alternatively, I might find my personal illness or injuries transformed by a new way of sharing in the sufferings of Christ. Or I could accept obsta-cles thrown across my path, get free of resentments that have long bothered me, or deal more creatively with insults and humil-iations that come my way by prayerfully participating in what the Lord endured in his Passion out of love for me. This list could be much extended, but I simply wish to illus-trate here the wide variety of possible experiences we may find. At least a mention may be made of special graces of union with the Passion, such as we may read about in St. Juliana or other spiri-tual writers. Some of these may be clarified in what follows, but my main concern is to speak about Third Week (and Fourth Week) graces in a way that might enable ordinary Christians seek- September-October 1992 683 ~ickham ¯ Key Transitions ing a closer union with the Lord to recognize the possible mean-ing of unitive experiences that may also have been given to them. When the Passion of Christ "confirms" the first transition in the experience of a given directee, then that person's union with the Lord (so recently received or deepened) may be clarified and strengthened through worldly rejections and insults, even when these are taken in prayer to the limit situations of betrayal, impris-onment, violence, condemnation, and death. In other words, one's interior meaning and value as a person created and saved by the Lord and called to his service will become much more surely "known" in consolations received when contemplating the Passion. The Resurrection contemplations, in similar fashion, may confirm the previous grace more positively through experiences of a new way of life operating out of spiritual feelings received in the depths of the inner self. Those "Second Week" consolations may become clarified and strengthened through experiences of union with the risen Lord. Such graces received during the Fourth Week are to be discerned, unless I am mistaken, as confirming the Second Week graces already obtained by the directee. Limiting the Last Two Weeks In short, in these cases (only), confirmation of the Election in the Passion and Resurrection contemplations may be taken as appropriate during the Third and Fourth Weeks. This means that the central grace of the Spiritual Exercises is seen to be one of inti-mate personal union with Jesus (most fully revealed in the Election). What I have called the "first transition" may be rec-ognized as the main event for the individual person one is direct-ing-- even during the last two Weeks. So frequently is this the case today that many directors tend to consider it the only true goal of the Third and Fourth Weeks. But if that is so, then their notion of the unitive way has become dangerously foreshortened. For all practical purposes, it has been subordinated to the purgative and illuminative ways. But if the unitive way is truly a normal dimension in the growth of every devout Christian (as I believe it to be), then its omission from the Spiritual Exercises would be a limitation that raises serious questions. And to restrict unitive graces to a few exceptional persons would, in my opinion, be equally damaging. There is secular evidence to give us pause today. When 684 Review fbr Religious Maslow began to publish his findings on "peak experiences," he was under the impression that only a small number of persons had undergone this type of interior opening. But further research by himself and others produced widespread testimonies to simi-lar events. Eventually he reached the conviction that peak expe-riences of one kind or another are universal, although ignored or repressed by a hardy few. While his concept of "peak experiences" is ambiguous and may refer to quite a wide range of phenomena, his evidence cannot be restricted to what I have named the first transition. What I would like to call the second transition, then, would always assume the previous acquisition of first-transition graces. For example, if we suppose that a directee before making the Spiritual Exercises has already received profound graces of the Second Week type, what would likely occur during the first two Weeks? Usually one would expect the directee to receive confir-matory graces during those meditations and contemplations. But I would add that such prayer experiences might also be prepara-tory to more advanced graces possibly to be offered during Weeks Three and Four. If a director is not open to this possibility, then the fore-shortening of the Exercises, already mentioned, becomes all too likely. And if the more advanced graces of the second transition are actually given, such a director would not know what to make of them. The directee's experiences might easily be misunder-stood and the director could fall into false discernments. I believe that this has in fact occurred far too often. Challenges to a Good Way of Life The reality of spiritual growth reveals how frequendy believ-ers find that God disallows their apparently excellent form of commitment to the divine service. "The rug is pulled out from under their feet," we could say. Let us assume, for the sake of argument here, that the way of life of a given directee is truly unselfish and generous. It has been discerned carefully under direction, and has in fact become fruitful in its apostolic outreach. Is it possible that God might call the individual to surrender, or move away from, this entirely good way of life? Not only is it possible, it ftequendy takes place. A car accident, a heart attack, a financial loss, or social changes intervene to make September-October 1992 685 IVickbam ¯ Key Transitions our chosen course no longer viable. From many (limited) points of view, this makes no sense at all. But the point of view that mat-ters is the divine one--where we are called to believe and trust without knowing why, without making our own merely "common sense views" the final criterion in our discernment. This is what must have challenged Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on that first Holy Saturday. To her way of thinking, what could have been better than the life and teaching of Jesus? And yet its rejection in Israel was permitted by the divine mystery. Mary had to accept that baffling course of events, painful as it was in the extreme, without any "human" understanding of its value. We might say that God asked her to endure a spiritual death in her own heart corresponding exactly with the actual death of her Son. If this line of thought is pushed a little further, of course, we may perceive that the Passion and Death of Jesus was itself most acutely a spiritual death for our Lord himself. Had he not set his heart upon the conversion of Israel whom he desired to gather under his wings as a hen gathers her chicks? But they would not have it so. Instead, he was compelled to accept the rejection of his teachings, and of himself with them, at the hands of those in Israel who were in positions of wealth, prestige, and power. Only a few remained his followers. Jesus embraced this destiny out of love for all his people (including the very ones who were bent on his destruction). Not only did he accept the loss of what he had hoped to gain, but he did so with generosity of spirit. And so the Father raised him to a new role in the course of our history, a role that brought him into direct relation with every nation on earth. That spiritual death, which he so fully accepted, led to a new form of spiritual life for every people--even for ourselves. This, of course, is the pattern set for all of us by our Lord in his paschal mystery. But it should be obvious that we do not reach the fuller modes of participation all at once. Only gradually over many years do the devout followers of Jesus find the path to a more complete union with the Lord in the mystery of divine pur-pose. This does not mean that what we presently do will certainly be taken away during our course of active life (that remains a mystery of the future). It means only that, if we do move forward in union with the Lord, our basic attitude toward what we do and who we are will likely be tested in a more radical way. Even so, 686 Re~ie~ for Religious those who know us externally may not even notice the changes occurring deep within us. But somehow, through threats of illness, accidents, or altered situations that touch each one of us deeply, experiences like those that came upon our Lady and the other disciples of our Lord-- experiences, that is, of a spiritual death corresponding to the actual death embraced by Jesus out of love--will need to be encountered. And if we are graced by the divine love, we may pass through that "radicalization of the paschal mystery" so as to enter into a new kind of life in God--or at least into momentary tastes of it. This is what I mean by unitive graces. The Root of the Matter The term "radicalization" refers to the removal of more deeply rooted barriers to union with the Lord. Negative events similar to the ones mentioned above may occur in our lives, of course, without becoming the occasion of unitive graces. What is assumed here is that advanced graces of purification from sin have already been received, and that graces of intimate discipleship have also been conferred which have enabled well-discerned com-mitments to service of the Lord's kingdom in this world. It is only some years after a first transition has been made that certain neg-ative events may trigger an experience of lost selfhood or lost capacity for going on--even though outwardly one still goes throughthe motions that resemble a normal life. But why is it necessary to "die" to our good interior self in order to "live" in the heights of the spirit? Whatever answers we attempt will necessarily dwell within the mystery of divine union. Does our chosen way of life in its underpinnings somehow tend to place a barrier between ourselves and God? If so, why should that be? Does our most intimate sense of true selfhood always to some degree (because it remains unfinished) hinder us in our encoun-ters with God? Does our entry into utter transcendence always call for a further surrender--and yet never actually deny the validity of our individual and communal being? (These are far from being new questions--they belong to a well-worn tradition.) Sometimes our experiences of union seem to emphasize a oneness that obliterates awareness of distinct selfhood or to bring about a newness of love-identity in the Other that makes us eas- September-October 1992 687 ily forget our usual human longing for recognition as individuals. True. But these passing tastes and their remembered glories refer to unitive graces which at first can stun us with their breakthrough "difference." By this I mean that the experiential qualities tend to capture too much attention at first--they are new to us, very fulfilling, and so ~ometimes a bit extravagant. Nonetheless, the substantial reality of a grace, once given, is never taken away by the Lord even though the experiential aspects are temporary. We remember the experiences, but we are still inwardly changed and even "put together" differently by the substantial character of those gifts. The Way of the Cross In the specific case of unitive graces, however, a prior expe-rience of spiritual death points to another factor. There is no way to Easter, as we know, that does not pass through Calvary. In the terms already used above, this means that radical experiences of union with the risen Lord in the "heights of the spirit" are not possible for us until we have undergone a spiritual death "in the depths of the soul." P~erhaps this factor can be clarified by saying that we are not ready for unitive graces (of the Fourth Week type of consolation) until we have experienced the loss of interior consolations previ-ously given us (Second Week spiritual feelings and illuminations). In terms of selfhood, we might say that we must die (not to any false self, but) to the good "inner self" given to us in the first transition. Only the loss of that very g~od gift can prepare us to receive a "higher self," spiritually communicated to us by the risen Christ in this second transition. In consequence, the two transitions I have been describing are related in the Spiritual Exercises--and beyond them. The "spiritual death" that essentially prepares for the second transition is the experiential loss precisely of the grace already received in the first transition. There can be no second transition, then, if the first has not previously occurred. We should note that the "second kind of humility" is cer-tainly meant for use in the Election. The "third kind of humility," on the other hand, is intended to enable directees--should they actually receive that grace--to move forward into the second tran-sition after their full acceptance of the first. 688 Review for Religious Concretely, of course, this conceptual clarity is muddied by many variations in practice: both transitions may be combined or crossmated, along with backward and forward movements, fre-quent delays and regressions, sudden spurts and more sudden withdrawals--endless "visions and revisions," as Eliot puts it. The actual circumstances do not often present ready-made examples for our mental laboratory. MI the same, our awareness of the "crucial" contrast between the second transition and the first may prove helpful. If the approach taken here is even approximately correct, then we may be assisted in discerning the special qualities of second-transition experiences, especially in their earlier phases (of the Third Week sort). And this may enable us to avoid false strictures on our own or others' responses to these movements of grace. Qualities of the New Life The first transition, then, moves an individual from relying mainly on emotional satisfactions to receiving spiritual consola-tions in the inner self. The sedond transition may be said to move one from a well-accepted habit of interior union with the Lord and a way of life based upon it to a new life received directly from the risen Christ and enabling experiences of a higher self. It remains to suggest various qualities of the higher life that is enabled by unitive graces. First of all, although one's ordinary life, of course, continues, along with it (and not only behind it but also "in among" it) there is known to be a divine presence-- ever so delicate and respectful of one's freedom. That factor may grow more powerful at certain times, but often it remains gentle, although unmistakable. Another feature is a "higher" movement of the Spirit--rather unlike the heartwarming and compelling graces of the first tran-sition (which are usually "deep" and "interior" in quality). It is the awareness of divine mystery operating everywhere, bringing about God's will despite all evidence to the contrary; it is a dis-position to wait for God to reveal the divine will, to expect this and not to be surprised when it comes. It means not to speak until words are given, not to act until one "knows" how the Lord desires to act in the community. These few features may be taken as examples of the higher life (often seen in the lives of the saints). In general, that nothing Septentber-October 1992 689 should prevent God from loving others through my life becomes the central desire of my existence, the main reason for continu-ing to live. It need not, on the other hand, mean that the interior expe-riences of the inner self do not return and are not customary in one who has received unitive graces. It is just that one can no longer identify oneself with them. They are available at times and should be exercised. But they may also be taken away, and one is ready now to let them go. All this is possible because the risen Lord has made his divine presence felt by uplifting one to the level of his own activities in the church, in each person, and in every part of the world. Burning Bush Afire burns outside my bedroom window, October-red euonymus its name. As I look down The blood-red leaves leap up Vivid as living rivulets of flame. Transfixed, ! stand, New-wakened in the early autumn dawn. Then, barefoot, kneel, Obedient, Although no voice is heard. What angel calls me - silent? "Here I am!" I almost cry, Drawn by this shock of unconsuming fire To listen, stricken as Moses, For some name, some quickening word. Therese Lynch csJ 690 Revie'w fbr Religious DAVID E O'CONNOR Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition As we try to read the "signs of the times" and prepare for an unknown future, we should not forget the lessons of the past. We should take note of the cultural, theologi-cal, ecclesial, ideological, and generational influences that have moved our personal and collective lives as religious in certain directions. And we should be alert to the factual changes, adjustments, adaptations, and developments which seem to indicate some of the shapes and forms that religious life may be taking as we approach the third mil-lennium. religious life Recalling the Lessons of History Recent historical scholarship has opened our eyes to the uneven history of religious life--a history filled with crises and chaos, with high points and low? Interestingly, there have been relatively short periods of time when the church and religious life appeared to enjoy some institu-tional tranquillity and stability. More than once the whole concept of religious life seemed doomed to extinction by events out of control. Religious in North America, especially during the first part of the twentieth century preceding the Second Vatican David O'Connor ST teaches at the Washington Theological Union. He is the author of Witness and Service: Questions about Religious Life Today (Paulist Press, 1990). His address is 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Septetttber-October 1992 691 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Council, found themselves in one of those rare stable periods in the church. It was a time when the highest leadership in the Roman Catholic Church, beginning in the late nineteenth century and ending only in the middle of the twentieth, had chosen a defensive and protective position, effectively withdrawing from a changing and modern world which, in fact, was often hostile to it. The Catholic Church centralized itself at the Vatican to a degree unknown until then. Within this same period of time, the Catholic Church in the United States developed and flourished.2 American Catholics were, for the most part, an immigrant population that experi-enced the hostility of the WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) culture. While retaining a fierce loyalty to Rome, they tried to prove they were loyal Americans as well. For them the Roman Catholic Church appeared to be the model of stability and the rock of certitude. Although the worldwide Catholic Church of this period seemed intransigent, it was, in fact, still recovering from the buf-feting of social and historical changes that had rocked it at the end of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth. Following the French Revolution, religious life and many other institutions of the church seemed to be in their death throes. Yet, by the beginning of the twentieth century, it was clear that the church and religious life had recovered their vitality and were experi-encing unprecedented growth. In the 150 years preceding Vatican II, religious life had more than recovered from previous losses. Statistically, its number of members peaked in 1965.3 The post-Vatican II period, through which we are presently living, has been one of immense social and cultural changes. The council fathers thrust the church into the modern world, and fall-out from this movement of the Spirit in the church has occa-sioned a difficult time of transition for all, especially religious in the Western world. The rnove from a church-imposed inflexibil-ity and rigidity of the pre-Vatican II period to a church-initiated reform of religious life in the post-Vatican II period brought about an upheaval that was radical and spectacular in its magni-tude and complexity.4 No one could have imagined the depth and breadth of these changes. Indeed, we are still too close to events to make a true assessment. We will have to leave that to a future generation. Presently, it is still difficult to read the signs of the times because they are so ambiguous. Yet one of the clear lessons 692 Review for Religious of history is that drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. God does speak to us through history. One of the more important lessons of history is that, while religious life appears to be perennial, individual religious insti-tutes are not. Dedication, consecra-tion, and commitment to Jesus and his people are evident in the lives of groups and individuals throughout the history of the church, but the forms these have taken and their specific expression in individual groups, communities, monasteries, and institutes does change. Institutes are like people--they are born, they grow, they live their lives, and even-tually they die.s V~hile monastic groups can sur-vive with a minimum of members, and even decrease to a handful of people in one or two monasteries, apostolic institutes cannot. Apostolic groups frequently respond to spe-cific needs at certain times and in particular places in the life of the church. Once they have achieved their purposes, they tend to fade away or find new life through adaptation and change. In any case, an apostolic group requires many members to fulfill its corpo-rate role and purpose. The institutional life of these religious, all things considered, is much shorter and more tenuous than that of monastic groups. However, some forms of religious life have had the ability to be revitalized over and over again through reform, adaptation, and new expressions. One need only consider the Rule of St. Benedict, which has been adjusted to multiple forms of monastic and quasimonastic life. While individual monasteries or groups of them fade away, new ones are established in other places and times. Each institute has its own life to live. Not a few have seemed to be dying out or even were suppressed, as was the Drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. September-October 1992 693 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Society of Jesus in 1773, only to be given new life and experi-ence spectacular growth. Nevertheless, breakdown and death are probably inevitable for every religious institute. Some may have a very short life and others may live for an unusually long time, just as individual per-sons do. Calamities and misfortunes overtake certain groups. It might be combinations of political and economic or social and religious events which occasion their breakdown and demise. Often these events have nothing to do with the interior vitality of the group. For example, .when pestilence decimated the Western world in the fourteenth century, the mendicant orders were espe-cially ravaged when many members generously ministered to the sick and dying; some orders lost half their membership.6 Time also takes its toll. The life and death of individual com-munities frequently have nothing to do with the spiritual vitality of the members. Often, in fact,'it appears that in periods of decline the membership display many virtues and signs of dedication. Their corporate life has simply come to an end. As death crowns their collective life, other dedicated people often rise up to meet the new challenges confronting the church. Contemporary Influences on Western Religious Life Cultural Factors. The church does not exist in a cultural vacuum, but in the world as it is. We are, at present, living through a period of exceptionally rapid and revolutionary cultural change in an increasingly technological society. Our Western culture has had an immense influence on the attitudes of our people toward freedom, authority, obedience, sexuality, intimacy, and affectiv-ity. Periods of rapid social change promote personal and institu-tional instability and make it extremely difficult for people, especially the young and inexperienced, to make any permanent and unconditional commitment as expected in marriage, the priesthood, or religious life. The high incidence of divorce and remarriage and the many departures from the clergy and reli-gious life coupled with a corresponding drop in vocations dur-ing the last two and a half decades manifest this unfortunate social fact. The postconciliar years also chanced to coincide with "a kind of cultural revolution which led to a break with tradition, a crisis of authority, and indifference toward questions of faith, great 69¢ Review for Religious uncertainty about moral values, and a crisis in the realm of ethics.''7 The whole world seemed caught up in a series of extraor-dinary social and cultural changes. These enormous cultural shifts and their concomitant crisis of meaning forced even the religious who did not leave their communities during these years to change their lives in such a radical way that their communities are now different from the ones they originally entered decades ago.8 The American cultural values of personalism and personal fulfillment, freedom and self-determination, pluralism, democratic self-crit-icism, and egalitarianism and an emphasis on productivity and success have frequently clashed with an older and more rigid reli-gious life.9 In the period before Vatican II, religious life became part of the Catholic ethos and was carried along by its own cogency. It was largely insulated from the broader currents of American cul-ture. This situation, however, could not continue--certainly not for many members who left it after the reforms called for by the council began to take effect,j° Moreover, Catholics are no longer social outsiders in the U.S. culture; they have joined the nation's insiders.II Because of its outsider mentality, the Catholic Church had built its own vast school system, its own hospitals, newspapers, and fraternal and professional societies parallel with everything that was found among the WASP insiders. Large numbers of Catholic men and women joined religious life. It was a natural way for many to obtain an education and take their place in the Catholic society of that time. Now that Catholics are social insid-ers, they are no longer attracted to serve only in church institu-tions, for many options are available to them in the larger society and in the church.12 Also, the present-day phenomenon of the prolongation of adolescence into the early twenties and the consequent delayed adulthood of many young people in our culture is a sociological fact.13 Large numbers of young adults remain dependent upon others and do not assume full responsibility for themselves until, perhaps, they are forced by circumstances to do so later in life. This has had a direct effect upon the vocational and formational problems facing religious communities. The perceptions of young people concerning religious life today are quite different from those of their elders.14 The younger the person, the less he or she perceives religious life as dynamic and effective, and the less attractive it is to him or her. Moreover, Septentber-October 1992 695 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction because the positive perception women religious have of them-selves is not shared in the same degree by those outside religious life, it does not bode well for the replacement of present mem-bership. 15 Most significantly, because of the changed perceptions regarding the value of a celibate lifestyle on the part of so many people in our culture, the continuance of a celibate religious life, as we know it, is highly problematic with regard to the availabil-ity of potential candidates. There are very few people open to considering such a lifestyle, in the opinion of professional observers.16 Therefore, to state that religious life is countercultural in our present society is to assert an all-too-obvious fact. Theological and Ecclesial Factors. Pope John Paul II expressed his own grave concern about the drop in religious vocations when he sent a letter to the bishops of the United States on 3 April 1983. A pontifical commission was established to investigate the matter--dubbed the Quinn Commission because Archbishop John R. Quinn, of San Francisco, was appointed the pontifical dele-gate. 17 This commission made its lengthy report to the pontiff in October 1986 and a shorter one to the U.S. bishops in November 1986.18 The report did affirm many positive developments sucla as the rediscovery of the charisms of many institutes, the deepening of authentic spirituality, a new appreciation of apostolic religious life, a new awareness of the uniqueness of each individual reli-gious, the promotion of a greater participation in the decision-making processes of the institute, a new appreciation of the universality of the church's mission, a growing awareness of the feminine, the development of new constitutions, and new signs of hope through older and more mature vocations.19 It did note, however, that the universal call to holiness of all members of the church made at Vatican II in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (§§ 39-42) affected religious and those who were contemplating entering religious life. This affir-mation of a common vocation to live a full Christian life was inserted in the conciliar document before its treatment of reli-gious life. It effectively undercut the popular misconception that the call to holiness lay primarily in religious life and in the priest-hood, or that one needed to enter them to pursue holiness seri-ously. A clear call to holiness was being made to (and heard by) 696 Review for Religious those in the married and the single life and not just to those liv-ing the celibacy of the religious life and the priesthood. Second, religious women and men took to their hearts the council documents' emphasis on social justice, which expanded upon the social teachings of the Gospel and the popes. This emphasis was reinforced by the personal experience of religious when they encountered social evil and injustice in their efforts to live and preach the Gospel. This experience, however, seemed to some to place apostolic religious in a theological bind between two apparently contrary church expectations: that they live "apart from the world" while they live and minister with an "option for the poor" in a modern world filled with social injustice. Third, the council'g reaffirmation of the need for the lay peo-ple to serve and to minister--to evangelize--in response to their baptismal call had an effect on religious. They became aware of the apostolic call made to all the faithful. The identity of religious can become clouded in periods of theological and ecclesial change. Their sense of direction and their morale are affected. Some religious now see themselves more as lay people. They react negatively to any restriction they per-ceive