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Issue 43.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1984. ; Volume 43, Number REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOI~S (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 EOg REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis, MO. © 1984 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOI,~S. Composed. printed and manufactm:ed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage), For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW VOlt RELIGIOI~S: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1984 Volume 43 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence wilh the editor should be sen! 1o REVIEW rolt RELIGIOUS; 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 Rt.'vlt:w !'on RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Ou! of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from Universiiy Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. -A Revealing. Light to the Gentiles John Paul H At the beginning of February of this year, Pope John Paul invited religious throughout the world to join him in spirit at a special celebration for religious of the Jubilee Year of Redemption. The celebration was concluded by a liturgy held at St. Peter's Basilica on February 2, in which 25,000 religious participated. During the Mass, the pope delivered this h~omily, inviting the participants o to renew their religious profession. Today, dear brothers and sisters, 1 want to borrow these words of the old man Simeon in order together with you to adore the Light: Christ the Light of the World! We are gathered in St. Peter's Basilica in the Year of the Redemption, in the year of the extraordinary Jubilee. We are meeting in that great and multiform community which you all make up, brothers and sisters, from so many religious orders, congregatio.ns and institutes: Individuals and com-munities that are consecrated to God! This meeting brings together the representatives of the religious families who live in Rome and, at the same time, extends to all those fellow brothers and sisters with whom the oneness and the identity of your vocation unites you. Through this same oneness and identity you are also bound together by a specialunion of mission in the Church--a mission in the midst of the People of God in every country and on every continent, to the ends of the earth. Today, in this great, universal community, you join the Bishop of Rome and the Successor of Peter to proclaim, in the spirit of today's liturgy: A revealing light to the Gentiles! The light is Christ, the Light and Glo~:y of the People of God throughout the world! It is with this proclamation that you desire to respond to the meaning of tile liturgy on this feast of Candlemas, and at the same time you want to give expression to that which constitutes the interior mystery of each and every one of you. In fact, by reason of your vocation; you walk in this Light which is 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Christ in a special way, and you bear witness to it also in a special way. Today this is made evident by the lighted candles which in a short time you will be holding in your hands. Each of these candles recalls, above all else, the Sacrament of Baptism, through which Christ began to illuminate your life with the light of the Gospel and with the light of his Redemption--Christ, whom you received through faith within the community of the Church; Christ, handed on to you from day to day in the Christian life of your family, your surroundings and your school. The full flowering of baptism is the Eucharist; and at the same time, the constant renewal of its purifying power is the Sacrament of Penance and Reconcilation. These candles that you hold, then, remind you, in the context, of today's feast, of the moment of your consecration, your religious profession, your choice of this way of life that is based on the evangelical .counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. The ligh~t of Christ shone at that moment with an especially brilliant flame. The.Oarries of fait.h and hope joined the vivid flame of charity and focused on the Heart of your divine Spouse, which at the same time itself opened wide because of this focusing--just as this divine Heart opens widely in the mystery of our redemption which, as we know, is universal, embracing everyone and everything. " Depth and universality: these ar~ the two characteristics of the religious vocation which attest to its being ro0tedqn the mystery of the Redemption and in the light of Christ. Today's liturgy, on the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, leads you toward this light. So you may enter the temple, just as Mary and Joseph once did when they took Jesus to JeruSalem to offer him to the Lord (see Lk 2:22). The law of the Old Testament provided that every first-born son be consecrated to the Lord (see Lk 2:23), and this consecration Was accompanied by a sacrifice of a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons. Today, beloved 'brothers and sisters, you enter this temple to renew, in the light of Christ's Presentation, your' own offering to God in Jesus Christ, your own consecration to be his exclusive property. F~:om the depths of the mystery of consecration springs this particular way of belonging to God himself--a belonging of which only the person, the knoWing and free subject, is capable. This belonging has the nature of gift. It responds to"a gift and at the same time gives expression to a gift. In the light ~of Christ, each one of you perceives with penetraiing clarity that all creation is a gift. You perceive in creation the special gift of your own humanity. And with the gift of this entire and indivisible humanity, you desire to respond ~to the gift of your Creator, of your Redeemer, of your Spouse. In this way,' there is inscribed in the huma0 "I" of each one of you a special bond of communion with Christ ahd, in him, with the Most Holy Trin!ty:~ the Father, the Son, find the Holy Spi.rit. Revealing I~ght to the Genliles / 323 Entering~the temple,, th~en, along with Mary and Joseph--where the rite of the Presentation of Jesus provided for by the law is to take place--we encounter two persons, Simeon and Anna, who are wholly consecrated to God, dedicated to the expectation of Israel, or rather, to, mankind's greatest hope of all time. Simeon, having been inspired by the Holy Spirit,~had gone to the temple (see Lk 2:27). Does this not perhaps bring to minda similar "inspiration" with which you were once moved., itself an inspiration of the Spirit? Yes, for the Holy Spirit, in the power of Christ's Redemption, is the author of all sanctity. So.is he also.author of that~ special call on the way to sanctity that is contained in the religious vocation. Today, when you renew your profession, in your hearts, remember that interior "inspiration" of the Spirit which was at the beginning of your path. Remember how this "inspiration" began, how it grew stronger, how it may perhaps have returned again after a period of time.until finally you recognized in it the clear voice of God, and the power of the nuptial love of the Lord who was calling you. Remember this today in order to give thanks with a renewed heart, in order to profess "the marvels of God" (Ac 2:ll). This inspiration from the Spirit cannot be extinguished. It must endure and mature, along with your r~ligious vocation, throughout your entire lives. You can nev.er separate yourselves from this salvific "inspiration from the Spirit," caring for it in the interior temple that each of you is! How eloquent are the words concerning the Prophetess Anna in today's Gospel: She was constantly in the temple, worshiping,day and night in fasting and prayer. Coming on the scene at this moment, she gave thanks to God and talked about the child to all who looked forward to the deliverance of Jerusalem (Lk 2:37-38). Simeon leans over the child and utters prophetic words: This child is destined to be the downfall a~d the rise of many in Israel, a sign that will be opposed so that the thoughts of many flearts may be laid bare (Lk 2:34). He addresses these words to Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and addS: "And you yourself shall be pierced with a sword" (Lk 2:35). A strange prophecy! And yet perhaps it is at once the most concise and the most comPlete synthesis of all Christology and of all soteriol0gy. Dear brothers and sisters! May this prophecy reach your souls t6day with new strength. Welcome Christ, who is the ligh't of the world: Christ in whom God ~"has prepared his salvation in the presence of all peoples" (~see Lk 2:31). Welcome Christ, who is also a "sign that will be opposed." This "opposition" is engraved into your vocation. Do not try to remove it or to erase it. This "opposition" has salvific significance. The salvation of the world is achieved precisely along the path of this opposition that is offered by Christ. And so you, by welcoming Christ~ are also a manifestation of this 324/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 salvific opposition. It cannot be otherwise: It is precisely in 'the name of this saving opposition that there is engraved upon your Christian and religious "I" the profession you have made of poverty, chastity and obedience. The world needs the authentic "opposition" of religious consecration as a constant leaven of salvific renewal. You will be carrying in your hands the lighted candles of today's liturgy. They say that Christ is the Light which enlightens every man who comes into the world. They are the testimony of your entire dedication to Christ and to God; they are the testimony of your consecration. These candles also illuminate the meaning of human life, the life of each one of us. As the candle gradually burns, the wax melts and the candle is consumed. May your lives burn in ~the light of Christ! May yours be lives of total nuptial dedication to his service! May the life-giving current of the mystery of our redemption pass through this life, reaching the world and man and directing all our human existence toward~ the eternal light: the light of vision and glory. Simeon said to Mary, Mother of Jesus: "And you yourself shall be pierced with a sword!" Dear brothers and sisters, receive Christ from the hands of Mary. May the mystery of your redemption reach you through her soul. May all the salvific plans of consecrated hearts always be manifest before the heart of the Mother! Be united with her, with your glance focused on her. In her is there a special resemblance to Christ who is the Spouse of your souls. Formula for the Renewal of Vows This formula was used by the Holy Father on February 2, during the liturgy in which the religious addressed by him renewed their vows. Dear Brothers and Sisters: in answering the call of the Lord, you have risen with him and have died to.sin. Through your baptism and your perpetual commitment you have been consecrated to him. Do you wish to reaffirm your desire to follow Christ chaste, poor, and obedient, in imitation of his Holy Virgin Mother? R. Yes, l do. Do you wish to persevere in your commitment to'follow the Gospel of Jesus, and to observe the rule of your religious family in order to live in evangelical comm~union with God and with your brothers and sisters? R. Yes, I do. With the grace of the Holy Spirit, do you wish to dedicate your whole life to the service of the Peopli~ of God, and above all, tO the very poor? R. Yes, l do. May God, who has begun this good work in you, bring it to completion until the day of the Lord Jesus. R. Amen. Amen. Amen. On Choosing Religious Life Today Sallie Latkovich, C.S.J. Sister Latkovich is presently nearing the completion of her noviceship in Cleveland. Sister may be addressed at St. Joseph Convent; 3430 Rocky River Drive; Cleveland. OH 44111. ~ ~klong with the obvious aspects of the renewal of religious life, in local living situations, in diversity of ministries, and in community structure and govern-ment, there has also been renewal in initial formation. To be sure, there is a newness about those who enter religious life, a newness about their very choice to live in community, and a newness in'the process of initiation into existing community structures and traditions. AS one new member, I'd like to share my reflections on coming to com-munity: at age thirty, degreed in education and theology, having been a teacher and department chairperson in a Diocesan high school, and a pastoral associate in aparish. ' About one year ago, I participated in a federation event for novices of the Sisters of St. Joseph. The meetings were held at De Mattias Hall on the campus of St. Louis Univ.ersity, where th~ sister-student~ shared their dormitory, dining room, and meeting area. I rode the elevator with bne of the resident sisters, a Golden Jubilarian, who asked how the meetings for the novices were going. After my enthusiastic reply, the sister touched my arm warmly, assuming that l was one of the directors, and said: "This is so good for the~young ones." I chuckled and responded to my dear and special elevator companion: "I am one of the young ones!" This incident challenges us all to take a good look at the new realities which have emerged past some of the old stereotypes, including the age and life-experiences of new members, the process of initiation into-and bonding with community, and the preparation for vowed commitment. There undoubtedly is something shared by all individuals who discern 325 326 [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 religious vocation and respond to the mysterious call from God. The very choice, however, takes on different dimensions today from the time when the choice was made by young people of high school age who came to community from their parents' homes. In my perception, the women who choose to enter religious life today are fairly self-identified, at age 25, 30, or 40 years old; they come with education, credentials, work experience, achievements, and "street smarts" that come from self-support; they have had the experience of adult human relationships, and an important growing relationship with the Lord. Thus, for the new member to community today, the adjustment involves several major changes: from single living to community living, taking seriously and publicly the values and lifestyle of the vows, and sharing their life's journey with one person as director during the time of initial formation. In the past, a person entered religious life, and the entrance carried with it obvious signs and restrictions. This is a source of some confusion today, both for the new member and for family and friends. Looking and acting the same after entrance as before leaves one hard put to describe the inner transformation that is happening in surrendering one's life to the Lord and in bonding with community. Those who entered at a young age grew into adulthood as religious; many who enter today face the conversion of integrating their adult identity with religious identity. For most who come to community today, the single life has been a life of their choice, and seemingly, of their control. There has been the responsibility and enjoyment of a home, furnished according to taste and budget. One's budget has been determined by one's employment and salary, and has included the management of credit cards, checking, and savings accounts. Regarding employment, one's functioning and achievement on the job have likely been very significant, as our society places so much emphasis on the work/productivity ethic. One has probably owned a car, thought of as a "freedom-mobile" as one gives up that ownership. Though most who choose community are highly principled and have made decisions based on good valiaes,,there has been no accountability aside from self and God for schedule, activities, involvements, for decision-making in general. When persons actually enter community, they appeal to be the same as before; and yet, not. one part of each new member's life remains the same. Living poverty leads one to relinquish ownership of possessions, Some held dear. Though the anticipation of that was much worse than the reality for me, I was surprised to discover how attached I was to my own wondeff~ul doub.l~ bed! There is a real adjustment as one begins to rely on a relatively small monthly allowance for one's personal needs; and to rely on the community for other more major expenses. The importance of my self-sufficiency was very striking the first time Ihad to present my dental bill to the community treasurer, having paid those bills myself for the last ten years. These obvious, external changes seem fairly easy by comparison ~o the less obvious, internal transformation. For a .single woman to survive and to On Choosing Religious Life Today /327 succeed in this culture, she needs to compete in the male system, which demands independence and control of every aspect and detail of herqife; and thus, to be recognized as a responsible adult.'There is a great and sometimes awe-full experience of poverty in rei:ognizing the falseness, the illusion of all that, in coming to the truth of our own gifts, but also our limitations and weaknesses. Recognizing ourselves as responsible adults.involves faith that God is the One who is in control, and our dependence is on him. One then begins ~to experience the Gospel truth: "in .weakness, power reaches perfection." Options have been open for relationship for the single woman in today's world. Being atti'active to others and being attracted by them is a dynamic which doesn't change with community membership. Soon after 1 moved into community, I attended a surprise birthday party for someone I had dated and with whom I had remained friends. When his new dating relationship came in the door, 1 was surprised:~at my jealous reaction. A sister,with whom I lived answered my own questioning with: "Welcome to the human race." Indeed, I was and am human. What does change upon entering religious life is one's availability to pursue exclusive relationships. Of course, intimacy in human relationships remains an important value; but, the expression of intimacy may undergo some change or redirection as one approaches the vow of .celibacy. Living in a homogenous community of women is a drastic change for one who has led an active life in a heterogenous setting. Families and friends have had experience in how to celebrate and live with one's marriage commitment; they fumble a bit at understanding, much less celebrating and living with one's celibate religious commitment. Obedience is difficult for one Who has made decisions singly, privately, and well for a number of adult years. Sharing discernment and decision-making is fundamental and necessary to community life, but it can feel like regressing to an earlier parent-child situation--the last~experience of consulting with an authority. That very feeling of regression was the source of my own difficulty with simply sharing with my director the Choices or plans I had made; and learning to distinguish between decisions that warranted discussion and those that did not. Along with this sharing of .significant decisions, following the proper channels and the time it takes to do so may seem very long and unnecessary as compared to spontaneous choices made .previously. Thus, beginning to live obedience demands patience and focus on integrating one's life and choices with the very life and direction of the community. ~ In communities today, there is usually one person designated as director of the new members. Perhaps this responsibility is handled in a team approach. What an important position this is, ,both for the individual new member and for the whole larger community. 1 think, however, that'in light of the role, the title "Director" is a misnomer, as the directio.n of the phase of initial formation is a joint effort as opposed to "director" and "direction-taker." 321~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 In my experience, this person has been one who has shared a precious space of my life's journey; she has been mentor, counselor, and most importantly, model. Though she necessarily becomes the new member's primary contact person, she is representative of every other member ~of community who have individual responsibility to welcome the new member in the bonding/belonging .process. The new member's relationship with the director is unparalleled and unprecedented in previous adult life. Mention mtist be made, too,.of the other professed members who live with those in formation. °Their presence in local community only enhances the bonding/belonging process. Their own lives, ministries, and stories of com-munity history are a significant contribution to the new member. Occasionally, one becomes aware of an unconscious, unintended stigma attached to the "formation process" which looks backto the days when the present professed community were in formation themselves; the time when new members were young and inexperienced, not allowed to speak with professed, much less participate in community affairs, or even ,be present for chapter proceedings. The ghosts of those times come out of the closet when new members today are welcomed with rhetoric but subtly held at a distance from the professed community, not actually excluded but neither included, or not taken seriously because of a "hangover attitudi~" that they are just novices. It is especially difficult when a new member feels or experiences a separation, one that is hard to articulate or explain, from professed members of community who may be the same age, have common interests, or like experiences. To be truly welcomed is the beginning of bonding and encouraging of self-investment. The choice for religirus life in community is just that: the choice to invest. oneself in response to a call from the Lord, to join together" with others for the sake of the kingdom. The choice is full of hope, expectation, and celebration. Like the Gospel grain of wheat, there is death, there is loss. We mourn every loss, and experience pain in that; pain that deserves to be named in order to be a source of growth, of resurrection to new life. Just so, the grain of wheat produces much fruit. The dynamic of community life is like being planted in good, rich soil, which nourishes that growth: in the sharing of life and prayer, in gathering around the eucharistic table and the supper table, and in mutual support and challenge. In conclusion, one might look at the numbers of people who are entering religious life today, and despair that so many fewer are choosing community than did some years ago. On the other hand, there can be. i~ause for great rejoicing that people are attentive to the Lord's call, seek to respond, and so choose--in many cases, a choice that is clearer and freer than in previous times because there is an understanding and experience of options and of life. When we take stock of the renewal that has taken place and continues in religious communities, let us include the new experience of those who come. What Is a Novitiate For? DonaM Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald has been a frequent contributor to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, He has served his congregation as master of novices while in India. Presently Father Macdonald resides at 'St. Joseph's; Wellington Road: Todmorden: Lancashire 0114 5HP: England Roberi Bolt's play A Man for All Seasons. a young man called Richard asks "Thomas More for a job. "Employ me" he says, "I would be steadfast." To this °Mo~:e replies: "Richard, you couldn't answer for yrurself even so far as tonight."~ These proved unhappily propheti6 words, as Richard was to perjure himself later at the trial of the saint. All generalizations are false to a degree, but More's comment is true of ~o many today under the age of thirty. There is good will and idealism in ,~arying degrees, but little internal cohesion. Too many are too soft centered. One cannot take too. seriously, therefore, much of what such people say or do. Equipped though tohey may possibly be for ~a short run, one would be ill-ad~; ised to bet on their stamina over a longer distance. If on(~ takes Bophoeffer's de's~riptior;~ of maturi.ty as an acceptable criterion the maiure per'son is one 'whrse center of gravity is always where he or, she actually is2--then clearly many ~n this age group are immature. The a'doleffcent, by definition, has n6 central reference point, in some cases starting each day with a clean slate. The commitments of yesterday ark behind him or forgotten. He is, after all, trying' tO form an independent character. Considered in law to be adult at eighteen or so, by any other criterion he might not be so viewed. Quite often he is an emotional mess moving in a world where so much is relative and little seems meant to last. Entering into adult commitments with the mores Of an adolescent, the miracle is that so many make i,.t in view of the numbers who do not.ln the contemporary jargon, young people are today subject to so marly presstires. One pressure notable by its absence, is the need to accept 330,/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 personal responsibility for decisions taken. There is no c~iiter of gravity in the present moment. The effects of this paradox of persons being legally adult and emotionally adolescent, are seen in every walk of life, not least in their seeming inability to fbim a permanent commitment. So harmful are the general ~effects of this in marriage, for example, that it is now being seriously canvassed whether there is such a thing as an automatic right to marry. As society has to pick up so much of the failure and casualities, has it not the right to take out preventative inSurance? , All of this is relevant to religious life find to the admission and formation of young candidates. "Am I dealing with an adult or an adolescent?" is an ever-present question for anyone working in formation. The pattern sketched earlier is valid for the young religious and young priest as well as the young married. One °has had similar conversations, hearing an uncannily uniform vocabulary, with all three categories of young people facing difficulties over their commitments. ~ Whether speaking~to married, priest or religious among the young, one so often hears "The magic has gone. ~.," "It does nothing for me . "':l've reached a dead-end . .," 'Tm too young for responsibility~:.," "Surely God doesn't want this.!" Against the wider canvas of feeling that the world owes them a living--or at least that it should play fair--the underlying thread seems to be that since the commitment made to marriage, priesthood or religious life no longer does anything for me, I owe it to myself to get out from under this yoke. Less often does one hear: "! gave myself to this commit/hen! expecting it to demand the best f, rom me; here, then, is my center of gravity. I Stand, thbyefore, on this gift of myself. What, then, is to be done within this situation?" 'The Church is coming to see this. Increasingly, dioceses are ,sl~eqif~,ing s~x-months' ~otice, with genuine preparation, for a.nyone° wishing to be married in a Catholic Church. Students for the priesthood are invited to take ,t~eir prepaEation more seriously, and encouraged to live and work for a while away from ~he 'tmmed~' a~te support of a seminary or °religibu~s dommunit~,.3 Yo~ng~people today often come to seminaries and religious houses to work odi" the problems of adolescence. Are they, then, in the wrong place for wrong reasons? Is this the point of religious initiation? Quite~genuinely, a ni~vitiate may have to decide wheth~r to offer an a~olescent formation pr~ogram, or an adult course for approaching God in community. Individual no,vices may have different needs,.so it is a very. difficult questipn to answer. But the results of our failure to resolve itare all about us. Immature Formation : An implicit d~cision in favor' of adolescence is sgmetimes taken in an attempt to offer Ypung can, didates a congenial environment for,~their early What-~4s a Novitiate For? / 33"1 formative years. They are kept-very much with their peers. Tho~e guiding formatioffare chosen because of their alleged ability to mik with yogng peol~le. Older religious either fight shy of their company or~are carefully screened or shepherded away from them. With such mentors one _sometimes observes in formation the pooling of insecurity. The adolescent candidate is reflected in his guide, with the formation community sharing the ethos of a studi~nt hostel. One has been at prayer in such company with their leaders, and heard the spontaneous reflections of a ,young religious ono~the,Pau, line view that '~those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh With its passions and desires" (Ga 5~.2.4), virtually reduging it to t!~ezlevel.of occasionally doing without sugar in one's ~.tea. The sense of the prayer me.eting seemed to second this interpretatio.n, and the lifestyle of th~ young religi.o~u~.did nothing to challenge it. Similarly, listening to a lunchtime discussion on,where a religious ought to I~b buried whefi he digs, .of several pos_sibilities, argued over. no one suggested. even as a debating point, t.hat, as" religious are p.o0r, the question ought scarcely arise; poor people have'no choice. Time spent with novices, young Yeligious and their gu!des, reinforces this impression, all the more revealing because it is patently unconscious. Nov~ unless some adult shows them otherwise, they~will spend their early formative years in at,least a lower.middle~class lifestyle, in the free association character-istic, ofa comfortable student.hostel and develop~such patterns of thought and behavior in the name'of the~Go.spel and of the~ charism of their founder. In one sense they have it m~de. Yet sooner or~later a price has io be paid:~ One cannot keep playing guitar in a.student group forever: T~here is a, ,big, wide,world out there whic.h .will .not accept their premises. Nor will the GospeL.It is better to glimpse this sooner rather than.later. Ultimately.one,has to choose fgr one, self and take the consequences. A formauon program should,at least enco.ur~ge this.~ - ~ .~ ¯ Challenge the Candidate~ _ . ~ There is here an interesting contrast with the armed forces when they advertise for officer recruits. Appealing to the same age group as do religious, the individual is aske~l, for e.xample, "Did you. spend three years at university to spend twenty years sitting.behind a desk"?. The armed forces have .much to offer but.the individual must choose, and-this to~ an~ age group readycfo_r a~job. but not always for a career. Having taken a decision to inv~estigatefurther, it is~- never suggested that they are being offered a soft option The be~;t.thing about initial basic training, oit is said, is when it, stops.AL will be physically and intellectually demanding but not pointless. The emphasis is on demanding the best to enable the recruits to receive the best that can be given the.re. "We will use qualities you do not know you have" says the Navy. Responsibility will be real and given early. "Earn the right to wear these wings" is part of the al~peal of the air force. Pilots wings are not given lightly. They are something we value and you have to earn. Once you do that. they are yours by right. The army 332/ Revie~wfor Religious; May-J.unel 1984 explains t'hat, it can:pick and choose--and it does. It .d0es'not want just anybody. !t wants the best; particularly men and women who really want it. You may ,not' be good ~enough, but if yomthink you~a~e, please apply for an interview.~You may fail the interview as many do, b~t we can promise you that any subsequent interview .you take Will be easier. All advertising is partial and selective but the. overall pattern here may be worth considering;by those working in formatio'n. Do we believe that we have much'to offer? Can people glimpse this inwhat we do and who we are? Do we ask the best of young people? ~ The initial dynamic of religious founders isnot in.question. Their appeal is clear-cut. But in ~ost cases they are dead. They "live"at second hand, through us. Their once sharp insightfinto the Gospel may well have died the death of a thousand qualifications, blurred and out of focus as~ pres6nted in chaptersl constitutions and'personal living. This,iS inevitable and need cSause no surpris& After all, even theGospel,was dilutedwith'the call of the first apostle. What is to be done? Personally Responsible - lfthe candidate' is 16oking for short term canonization material in those he ,meets he will. in .the main, be dis~ppointed~ He~might:filso reflect that such company ffould probab~ly exclude him. Rather is the".novitihte Best used by someone Who can tak~ a dec'isioh and st~, with thecons~qu~nces, able to give himself to something c~ther than himself:The program th~n" is basically one of self-developmen~t, .u~ing whatever physical, emotional,, intellectual, spiritual qualities are there. The individual has't6 do it himself, and the progi'am should allowhim scope: To be.effective, the no"vice has to give himself to whatever he is doing, trying always to k¯eep it simple. Part of himself, for part.of thetime, will produce a hybrid character unable to identify with what he is doing. .Spontaneity is usually at its best when underpinned.by assiduous practice. The sportsman~who shirks training is usually, found wanting on the day of the. competition:~ qs this not unrealistic if not plain silly? An earlier generation spoke ofa "second conversiori" in religious life. One made profession, but to the degree that one W;,s~faithful to.that initial commitment. God might well-extend the invitation one tiay'to~move out of Second gear, to go de~per. Can one, ~therefore, ~a.sonably ask of the novice what may not be found in his guide? Further, young people today are from an environment where commitments to marriage, priesthood and religious life are not kept for all manner of reasons. Th'ere are of course marvelous instances of fidelity, but found alongside a very strong contrary'c,urrent. But is there any choice? Thomas More's daughter Margaret~ in Bolt s play, begs him as a skilled lawyer to find a form of words to Save himsi~lf from igrison and death. More answers her: "When a man takes an oath. Meg, he's-holding his own self in his own hands like water. And if he ope6s his fingers then--he needn't hope to find himself again. Some men What Is a Novitiate .For?/333 dren't,capable o£thi,s, but I'd be loathe to think your fathe~r~ one of them" (Act 2). This may not be the point of arrival of someone com, in~ .to a novi.tiate, bot surely it points the direction in which he must'travel? How else could he:say yes or no to anything? How form a permanent relationship with anything e!se?, "Freedom from the contemporary" is one of the rarest freed0ms0today. A novitiate could offer that; in-the exercise of personal, responsibility. ~ .l,n practice, this needs littl~e theoretical discussio.n. The can.didate,is urged to do_whatev.er ought to be done. Living this way in'the present moment,,it, has the added value, of helping the noOice come!to :terms, with ,boredom, routine and drudgery, without which he will make little-of permanent c6mmitment. "It's~boring" iS a universal escape clatise from responsibility in the age group we are considering, Living like this, he. may or ~ay not fifid thi~t theJife is for him--but at least he has a hope of a genuine ans,.wer to a question he really asked. A Minimal Frameworl~ The novice should be awa~ of a minimal framework in which the bench marks lie in his observed approach to God and thec6mmunity.~As far as God is concerned, worship may well have to be taught today in the western world, where there is little innate .reverence or sense of wonder before ~the holy. A tabernacle, set in.a corner alcove over a radiator beside a window, where an earlier generation might :have put a statue, will hardly foster worship in a novitiate chapel: The young person who is rarely seen in ~chapel other than at a community celebration, who never genuflects or bows before° the Blessed Sacrament, but immedi,ately sits down in a relaxed, leisurely position, might be indicating limitations in his awareness of God which Isaiah 6 might usefully help. The assumption that "that was a lovely Mass" indicates an objective value may have to be examined. According to his capacity, the novice may be introduced to Scripture and some of the. classical Christian writings. There is a clarity, warmth and centr.a!ity, about them that can scarcely be foun~t in contemporary spiritual writing, some of which is both popular and effeminate, neither~one thing nor the other. Self-evidently the God of'.the mys.tics may not be well,known, but novices could with pr,.ofit b.e- given a glimpse of what those closest to God in the Jewish, Christian and oth~er-'traditions have felt. This can both encourage him to widen'his horizons, and unsettle any complacen~y,.realizing perhaps that no one can program God .into any personal equation. ¯ The novice may simply be challenged by :a library. He is not asked to assimilate much, just spen~l some time~ in the.company of men and women who knew God as perhaps he never will. Is there any need to claim more for a novitiate than its offer 6f an initial thrust towards God and community living? It is for his guide :to give basic instruction on basic truth, whether the novice reads a page or not. Almost certainly at the beginning of a novitiate, novice. and mature guide Will not live in the same Church in any real sense. 3~1~1 / Revikw for Religious, °May-June, 1984 Living in the-Eresent will be equally'reflected in the novice's obse~e~t relationship'with th6Se amoi~g Whom he'lives. Again the accent is best placed on where he finds himself. Anxiety over poor water supply in a Third World ,village, while good in'itself if expressing genuine concern, rings hollow in the person~hnwilling t6 use w~te~r available to' him to wash the community ~tishes. Unlike the .man whose one acknowledgment to democracy waTs to ride in the same car as fiis chauffeur, young religiohs (or would-be religious) are not to be too choosy about the~c~)mpany they k~eep. They should'~htti~mpt to" build community with what is"given~. ,The moody young person is better elsewhere. Good manners and politeness, sometimeg ridiculed as outworn con~,entions, can at base be a genfiine regard for~ th~ feelings ~of others, particularly those outside on6's own group. They are a ,protection for the shy and the weak. Imagination is necegsary to see that one cannot live within one's pee? group forever. Ultimately, the novice should reflect trust. This is the one thing he can really give to his community. He cannot speak for anybffe else', but he can for himself: "You can trust mb." If there is.someone in the house unable to trust him, this should concern him. He tries to be honest. One °has been present at liturgies and pra~ers'in the age group we are considering, and heard sentiments expressed and gestures made that'would have made 1 Corinthians 13 read like a'chiid'sessay,'while feeling one-~ould be more at home with Bogart, Cagney, and0Edward G. Robinson. With them; you knew where you were: you did not turn your back. Young ,people may be mesmerized by words, mood and music. Truth is not ,that important for some. Again, this'may not be'a starting point, but it points the direction the novice should travel. Unless Someone Show.Me oo ~ Of ~ourse, if this i~ expected! in the candidate, it must be seen in his guide. Integrity is caught and taught, which is why, ideally, young people need to mix with adults~ There is no point in expecting honegty, if, in one's company, people feel that the~, should begin c0unting the spoons. To expect to r6ceive a confidence one should be seen to respect a ~onfidence'. Or~e wins respect and trust. Responsibility must not be a burden for the candidate and an option for his guide. Without trust one cannot build.~ A base like thfit, though~ ca~ support an encouraging amount of human weakness in the guide: ~ In earlier times novitiates were found at the end,of.long driveways or behind high wallsin buildings where the,windows were often°opaque. This cut off novices and their mentors from everyday life, and °more particularly, from their families. Yet the unpretentious pdrents of many ainovice or'guide made a more successful:job of integrating life and God than .did their sons or daughters in religioUs congregations. Yet it was made difficult f6r them to visit ~their children. Soa formation was attempted with often~no real roots in human nature and familylife. What Iso, a Novitiate~For? /~ 335 I am simplifying but not, I think, falsifying a Process which,produced many excellent religious but also. by common observ~atibn, left numbers of ,religious and their guides floundering in a no-man's,land. They could not, synthesize God and life: they often lacked human warmth and,commonsense:~' unlike many of their parents. We may make the same mistake today, unlesswe~ test the lecturer's idea against ttie lived experience of the genuinely Christian. man or ~woman. ~, .~, Maturityocan show something of human nature and off, God. Even,if.the ink is dry on the diploma, the guide may still be wet behind the ears. because what :is wanted in a guide is wisdom: knowledge asiimilated, not just knowledge acquir~'d. The availability of lecturers iniseveral disciplines for the formation team is excellent, but the mature novice needs more. What he wahts is God in the present, and the gift' of wisdom alone cambest direct him.oA university, for '~xample could give him all the knowledge her-.is capables.of receiving regarding the text of the Sermon on the Mount. but some,xriight agree with Bonhoeffer when he set up his seminary Lha_t the univ.ersity could never provide the context for living it.~ In the last anal~,sis. ~vhile properly emphasizing that formation is chiefly based on self-development, equally:,~fov the Christian, it must reflect wholly the ideal of Christ. Under The Influence of an Idi~hl Ul"timately what is off~ered in religious life? A candidate is offering himself or herself to a community of men or, women at whose hea'rt is one who has sa o, am the bread of life; he who comes to me shali not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst" (Jn 6:35). Whaiever th~ young perso~ wants from life is to be found in Christ. the Lord 9f ihe community. To be really,alive is to be really Christian, drawing life from Christ as the body does fr~om food. Whatever their capacity for love and so for giving,~all that is deep~;t ih candidates can be met in (~hrist. T.hey shall never thirst in his company is his claim. He above all can use qualities they do not know they have. The young person's thirst for life and love can be satisfied and more°i~'they ~ome- to Christ in faith. In the fourth gospel we are told, faith is used some ninety eighi times-- always as a verb. never a noun. Thus it indicates a personality, trusting, believing in, relying on, wh'olly given to God in Christ. The verb in the text~e have q uoted,is particularly strong. "To believe" means.io hold on to, like a .~ice or cla~p, and never let go. The Christ of the °i~ommunity a.[one can make demands like that. and his words will take flesh oi~l~.,t,,o, the degree that'ihe candidate has such~faith. This contrast between the promises of our Lord and the lives of some of his religious will pose questions for the youngcandidate. Evidently, the novices' guides are tobe seen as men and women of. genui.ne faith. Again it is a world only for the mature. The fourth gospel is a marvelously practical place to explore the implica- 33~ /~ Review for ~Religious~ ~lay-June, 1984 tions 0f formation in, Christ, but.the merest sketch can be "given here. The gospel.'s earlier chal~te~S can be seen a.s signs illustrating what was promised to our Lord's first followers in chapter one: "You will see heaven opened and the :~ngels~of God a~_cending and descending on the Son of Man"-(Jn 1:51). In Christ's company they~wiil see God present and active among them "angels oof~God ascending and descending"---as Jacob once understood from his dream to his. utter astonishment. The subsequent challenge of the gospel is to re'~ognize this. and s6 be given "power to become children of~God" (1:12). ¯ .The sixth ~chapt'er, from which we took our original text, is really an extended plea for faith in Christ to the exclusion of all else. Despite pitiful res,our~es "whaVare they among so many?"(6:9) Christ fed thousands, and so won their allegiance to .the point of their wishing to make him King, "because you ate ,your~ fill of the loaves" (6:26): Since they thus misread the sign, "Jesus'°withdrex:v again to .the mountain by himself" (6:15) a,n enigmatic and-~far from'obvious figure. He is insistent that they look deeper: "Do not labor for, the food, tha_t perishes, but~ for the food which endures to eternal life which the Sbfi .of Man will give~ you" (6:27). With all the Old Testament overtones of the God-given. manna feeding Israel. our Lord is inyiting them a~nd us to see this in himself, and so "believe in him whom he [God] has sent" (6:29). This is extraordinary language on the lips of someone from nondescript Nazaret.h in Galilee. Persons are to cling to Christ as to food from God. This insight is progressively and shockingly deepened until, for many, it was]ust too much:. "'This is a hard saying and who can listen to it?. After this many of his disciples'drew back and no longer went about with him" (6:60, 66). ThOse who stayed perhaps saw bettei" men and women than themselves ¯ walk away from ChriSt.°Thry, too. possibly, were in the position of a marginal minority. But they must take a personal decision: "Do you also wish to go away?" (6:67). Others have voted with their feet: What will they do? They decided: "Lord to whom shall we go?., woe have b~lieved and have come to know . .~ " (6:68-69). In accepting what Peter says on the disciple's behalf, Cl~rist's words seem to cut like a slap in the face: "Did I not choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?" (6:70). He is of ~ourse speaking of the one who "was to betray him" (6:7.1). This tension runs throughout the gospel our Lord rubbing shoulders with his offn yet so unlike them. They think they at last underst~.nd him only for him to escape their grasp yet again. Undeniably attractive. Christ has'drawn human nature~ at its finest: generous, trusting, ~ivingTand at ~he'sarfi~imel tirash, fearful, faithless. No one's faith in Christ is ab~blute, but must'ever~ynature as the disriples found in the crucifixion and death of their Lord wheri,they had lost all reason to ho pc. But in the.situation, its low~est point outsi~l~ of an empty grave when there was not ever/a dead body,?to~clifig to with its past remembered hopes, they once again hear tllemselves pesonally addresseff by Christ: "Mary . ""Thomas . ""Peter . " Signs which gave glimpses of God in Christ in their frrmative years are now eclipsed in the wonder of fiis resurrection presence.oHaving practically despaired What Is a Novitiate For? / 337 of life and its meaning as centered on Christ, they are now men arid women reborn. They now know :frorfi experience, that. no one need ev~e.r-hunger and thirst coming to Christ. But to attain that belief they had t0 loseMrt.uall)~ every rational indi~tion that made such a belief credible.~.They, too, died with Christ. ¯ This experieni:e is enshrined in the fourth.gospel, which, while taking the reader to the heights in God, will no less really.take him to the depths of human experience. The adolescent's faith can mature in such company or he will hurriedly leave it. It is so fearfully honest: "One of you is a devil . Do you also w~sh to go away? . Is not this the man whom. they seek to kill?. So they took up stones to throw at him, but Jesus.hid himself . I lay down my life " . Let us go that we may die with him . If anyone knewwhere he was, he should let them know, so that they might'arrest him., . He knew who was to betray him . The cock will not crow till you have denied me three times . Standing by the cross, of Jesus [was] his mother . It is finished; and he bowed :his head and gave up his spirit." All o~" this takes place in the presen.ce of God among real and, for the most part, ostensibly good people.,The signs have to be read in circumstances of everyday life and an adult response given: These are the signs of faith to which the novice's guide must point, and both of them must follow, the whole illumined by the gloriously effective sign. of the crucifixion, death and resurrection of their' Lord. "It isoa fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God~' says Hebrews (10z31), but, realistically, where else can one live? Faith will mature nowhere else. Beyond All Meaning ,, ., Itis for this reason, surely, that the contemplative side of a religious vocation must be stressed. Here truly lies the specific difference in our way of life. One may debate religious life as being primarily .a group of people trying to live the gospel under one roof, and expressing this in the outreach of an apostolate; or perhaps seeing community chiefly as an effective tool, stripped down to whatever best serves human need; but underlying it all, there has to be a hunger and thirst for God. Genuinely-chaste, poor and obedient living may seem simply odd otherwise. However imperfectly it is lived, this is what is seen. Marginal men and women living at odds with, what makes life livable for most people will need "guts," courage and conviction to keep faith with their commitment. It will all take place first and foremost within the individual man or woman. Following the gospel pattern it may mean at times looking for the living among the dead, heartbroke ~n and terrified, ofitside an empty grave. The logic of the gospel is not naturally~ours. Under GOd, only those closest to him in the contemplative tradition in every walk of life can guide us through it. To be introduced to this (or to continue in it) the novice and young religious need to be shown an uncluttered lifestyle. It is surprising .how little is needed if one's eye is kept on the one thing necessary. God and human warmth are needed in formation but little else. ~31~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Humor is~a marvelous teaching and growing mediumoable, to-both humanize and divinize. The vows are meant to free the human personality, to admit the love of God and so make one fully alive. For any of this to have an effect it will need to be. made part of oneself. If conversion to God in Christ is to happen it must be in the human heart. This is why silence, both external and internal, is necessary. One has, therefore, to be trained to be still and to listen, or one will,continue to live by external stimuli, equating immediate satisfaction from what is there with authenticity. Though young people today may sing of the gentleness of silence, few find it so. Yet an introduction to it during formation can offer' still another priceless "freedom from the contemporary." How, in fact, one can mature and hope to hear God in daily life without an understanding of silence, I do not know. In this context, a relatively recent, urgent recommendation from the Congregation for Catholic Education to those in charge of seminaries, is of particular value to persons charged with initial religious formation. Students, the Congregation maintains, "must receive an experience of interior silence. They must acquire a genuine sense of it. They must become capable of communicating it to others . [The] main task of those responsible for the running of the seminary is the formation of the students in interior silence. They must make continual and concerted efforts in this undertaking,ns This article has attempted to pursuebut one thread in the complexfield of initial religious formation--the exercise of personal responsibility in both novice and guide. Those who know something of what interior silence is are best placed to exercise responsibility in freedom, and respond in faith to wherever God will take them. NOTES ~R. Bolt, A Man for All Seasons (l~ondon: 1960), Act I. ?D. Bonhdeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (London: 1971), p. 233. a'Experience shows that a period of'preparation for the seminary, given over exclusively to spiritu~.l formation, is n.gt only not superfluous but can bring surprising results., is welcomed by the students., insist., that th!.s suggestion be tried" (Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education: Circular Letter[Rome: !980. CBCI, New Delhi], p. 24.) *"God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the. dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by GOd, by others and by himself . When his ideal .picture is destroyed, he sees the,community going to smash. So he becomes. ~ an accuser of his brethren., of God. of himself'(D~ Bonhoeffer, Ltfe Together [London: 1970], p. 16. ~E~ Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, (London: 1970), p. 334. 6Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, op. tit., pp. II, 14. The Charism of the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati John~ Miriam Jones, S.C. Sister Jones is Assistant Provost at the University of Notre Dame. Regarding the topic of her article, Sister wrotei "Whilethere is a uniqueness about each charism, there is also a universalitY recognized by. many wom~n religious." Originally a talk delivered to her own sisters, Sister Jones intended as well to address this universality of value and goal. She may be addressed at: Office of the Provost; The University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. We Sisters of Charity are called to be faith-filled women of the Church (Charism of the 'Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati). This simple, short sentence has four pieces that describe most of what is so central to our lives: Sisters of Charity, women,faith, and .Church. By God's grace we live out our womanhood as Sisters of Charity, and so these two pieces of the statement describe the essence of our very being, containing as well our vocation from the Lord. The other two pieces of that statement call us t~pfaith, lived out as part of the Church--and so they describe our relationship with our God and with his People. This paper is an attempt to touch upon that core experience, to fan its fire and thus cause it to burn more brightly. The' Charism of the Sisters of Charity 'Our consideration together of a part of our ~harism launches congrega-tion- wide four-year emphasis on our newly crafted charism statement. Our ability to put .words to ~hat charism comes at the end of a lengthy road. We have traveled that road now for nea.rly twenty years at the bidding of Vatican II. In the early 60s we were asked, as women religious, to discover again the spirit of our foundress and to adapt that spirit to the times in which we live: The council's document, Perfectae Caritatis, told us in 1965: 339 340 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 It serves the best interest of the Church for communities'to hax~e, their, own .special, character and purpose. Therefore loyal recognition and safeguarding should be. accorded to the spirit of founders. Over these years we have strugigled with that first,mandate: recognition of the speciai character and purpose of the Sisters of Charity. If your memory of that struggle matches mine, you will agree that in the beginning our effort to give words to the spirit that drove us seemed to be a rather frustrating one because initially it seemed to reveal more the commonalities of religious life than the uniqueness of our congregation as compared with any other. We went through a time when there seemed to be an almost interchangeability to the self-definitions of the Sisters of Charity or Of the Sisters of Mercy or of the Sisters of Loretto. But within the last few ~,ears our special character has indeed come into focus as we prayed over it and talked about it in an effort to express what it is that makes us unique. Finally in the Chapter of 1983, we as a congregation could, at long last, put into just four sentences what we believe to be our lifeblood. Thus, our coming to a recognition of that lifeblood has been for us all a long, but very rich discovery process--o~- perhaps better, a rediscovery process. Secbndly, Perfectae Caritatis ~dmonished"us to :,~afeguard our charism. That is what we are about in today's Church. But if the word "safeguard" seems a bit static, put it another way. We protect a treasure for the Church in our living out the graced vision of Elizabeth Ann Seton. Father John Futrell has defined charism as "simply a graced way of seeing and following Jesus for the service of the whole Church . "1 Elizabeth Seton saw Jesus, and she followed him; so the grace, the vision was initially .hers. It was her vocation, her mode of participation in the mystery of God. But at some historical moment over the years, each of us has received the same gift. Mother Margaret Cecilia George and many others before us have treasured it and lived it. And now it is ours to protect. The.word charism, as you know, comes from the Greek ~'ord for.gift. "Gift" not only means something freely given--that is, a grace--but "gift" .can also mean a special ability, as a gift for art~ or music, or dance, or numbers. Such a gift is recognizable in a person. In our case the gift is to be recognizabl~ not only in each of us, but in the corporate person, the Sisters of Charity 6f Cincinnati. But as with any gift, musical or otherwise, it will thrive only if it is used. And that is our challenge. A few years ago in an article in REVIEW FOR-RELIGIOUS,2 Norman Brockman, in dealing with some of the aspects 6f"charism, indicated that charism is khe very reason for a congregation's existence. The group has been given a particular graced vision for the sake of the Chiarch, and as'its member~ gather to follow their foun.d.ress anew, there comes a point where they incarnate this gi]'t, they express it, in new ways andin new forms of life. The group prays the gift, ponders'ii, witnesses it, comes to a communal realization of the charism. The Charity of the Sisters of Charity .' Our identity then as "faith-filled women of the Church" is indeed our treasure; As, with any treasure it surely needs active attention. The remaining three.sentences of our charism statement tell us somelhing of what that active attention ought to be so as to nourish the very marrow of our life with our God. But my current focus is on "faith-filled women of the Church" and will consider each of its three components: the aspect of our gift attribute to our being women; a consideration of what it means to be faith-filled women; and our call to be women of the Church. Gift We Offe.r as Women It is only in ihe last fifteen or twenty.years that we might be tempted to focus on the gift we offer to the Church as women,,to suggest that the nature of womanhood might be of specia! significance to the Church. We have ,no evidence that in 1809 Elizabeth in. Emmitslsurg; or in 1852 Margaret in Cincinnati, had an~, such realization. But the gift was there. Both those. women, those giants who preceded us, had qualities that could have been developed only in the best of women. While I doubt that either of them sensed that reality, all the years of our history give ample evidence of the qualitiesand contributions which women uniquely bring. What is it about womanhood that can be of such basic significance to the Church? At the very root of it all is something quite fundamental. God is so entire that his creation can~reflect.only bits and pieces of his goodness and his wonder: The best qualities of humans are, indeed, those piecemeal reflections. There is a great variety of these: kindness, consideration, gentleness, strength, truthfulness, honesty, all somehow reflecting in bits and pieces the wholeness of God. But consider this: there is a whole set of human qualities best reflected through .the feminine mode Of, humanity. If this is true, then inversely there mustbe another whole set of qualities that is reflected by the masculine mode. Ideally, then, it takes both those sets to come anywhere near reflecting the whole . Because historically the institutional Church is predominantly masculine and patriarchial, there has been scant opportunity in some arenas for one whole set of values to be operative. There is an increasing agreement today that the Church, as with most of society, needs to complement such male traits as rationality, aggressiveness, competitiveness, and control with a female approach that is intuitive, collaborative, egalitarian, holistic, integrative. Lest there be misunderstanding, let.it be recorded that neither approach has a monopoly on these qualities. It would be faulty reasoning indeed to suggest that women religious alone bear the burden of.bringing a feminine .counterbalance to the Church. All women of the Church are called to that. Also let .it be said that God need not be limited by structures. All of us know many a layman, priest, bishop who has a gentle, caring, contemplative side. through which those aspects of God have been reflected and taught to others. We also know .many women, through ~142 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 history and personally, who have brought the feminine to bear in Church matters--in ministry of every sort, and in the daily living out of their faith. While it is true that women religious are a very small part of the feminine side of the Church I want to suggest that because of our opportunities we bear a disproportionate obligation for feminine influence and for public representation of those facets of God which we perhaps have special capacity to understand. Daniel O'Hanlon, a Jesuit from Berkele3~, suggests that a Western world and Church suffer from the lack of the feminine.3 He calls on women to portray--and the Church to acknowledge and relate to--traits of God which he describes as feminine. They are lovely traits and we khow them, tro. He names God's compassionate, unconditional love for us; his nourishing and life-giving care for us; his presence in mystery to be found not by "rational effort but through loving contemplation; he names God's gentleness and .his sensitivity toward our every need; he describes God as an~intimate friend and companion, much more than a Master and a Lord. And capping his list, he describes God's unyielding fidelity. Those. insights invite us to contemplate God anew, to search more deeply to understand this magnificent Person. Ought we not then talk to one another about him? Help one another as sisters to plumb his depths? What an adventure is in store for those who, perhaps through us, experience those lovely feminine aspects of their God and thus know new energy and completeness in the Church. What a source of gratitude if, perhaps because of us, people's needs are served with the tender, empathic, patient touch that is especially present in women. ,~ " Faith-filled Women What does it mean to be faith-filled women? That is a powerful phrase, a phrase without which Elizabeth Seton would remain undescribed. It desi:ribes not an attitude, but an interaction that took place between God and a woman. That interaction was an integral, inseparable part of her fabric. She spoke of it as, "My blessed faith: all that 1 possess., so dear to me." It is obvious that faith was her driving force. From very early days, for her to live meant to be faith-filled. As she matured in faith it came to be synonymous with her very being, Consider the time frame. Her journey in the Catholic faith was less than twenty years, as a religious, about a dozen, but that faith journey was intense and profound.~, It pervaded the very marrow of her bones. I have chosen to dwell on three remarkable manifestations of Elizabeth Seton's faith°: her attention to the presence of the Lord, her surrender to his Providence, and the place of sorrow in her maturation in faith. Among her words are these: "The. daily lesson: to keep., quietly in his presence, trying to turn every action on his Will . "This was a lesson she offered freely, often, and to many. Again, expressed not in her words, but in a phrase from our 1979 Mission Statement, this was an experience of the "active The Charity of the Sisters of Charity / 343 presence" of an initiative-taking Lord. For her, God was the reality in life. Her awareness of him was unfailingly demonstrated in her words, whether they were written or spoken, in her daily actions, in her propulsion toward eternity. It was clear that she experienced God and that her experience was personal, intimate, confident, consuming. ~ That was one hundred and fifty years ago, when life was less hectic. And so we need to ask whether that kind of experience is affected by the passage of time, by a change in the pace of life? Is being that faith-filled a possibility in the twentieth century? The answer is visible in our midst. The manifestations, the circumstances may differ from those of Elizabeth, but if you look around at those for whom God is real, you will find women whose consciousness of their God is a twenty-four-hour-a-day affair. We constantly rub shoulders with our own sisters who bear the spark of God in their lives. We converse with' these women whose lives are fueled by a realization of God and of his loving initiative toward them. All of us need to talk more with each other about such a wonder so that we will become increasingly filled with faith in the God we love but cannot see. The second manifestation of Elizabeth's faith was in her surrefider to his providence, to God' loving arrangements in her life, to a~ God whom she personified as "The Will." Remember her zest for life, her affection for dear and' loved ones, her tendency to hope and to 0ptimism. Contrast that with the untimely deaths of William, Annina, Rebecca, Cecilia, Harriet, many of the early sisters of Charity, with her early struggles over conversion, with rebuff fro~ the Seton family, with misunderstandings from Church representatiyes, her' uncertainty about the future and the welfare of her children, her own ill health. And then hear her say, "As Sisters of Charity we should fear nothing . You must, must leave Jail] to the dearest, kindest, best of Fathers." And again, "His dear, adored; blessed Will be done! I have none, and if he but continues to give himself, 1 am blind tO everything else." In all of this, there was struggle and pain, but she surrendered to such evidence of his "active presence;" not in fatalism,~but as Jesus did, as part of the mystery of love. For her it was all or nothing. 'There is no painless path to God. She taught us the truth~ of what Kierkegaard wrote: "When God calls me,' he bids me come and die." Kierkegaard spoke of love as "passion for God" and for him an intrinsic part of that passion was obedience. In such passion there can be .no effort to control the rdationship. In his book When the Well Runs Dry, Thomas Green, in speaking of total response to the love of God, said: "It's not so much to do something a.s to allow something to be done to us.'~ In the bool~'s context that statement is describing prayer--but living in surrender to Providence is very much a lived prayer. In the third place Elizabeth Se~on matured in faith througti the place of sorrrw in her life. And sorrows there were. There was a spate of illness:death, financial struggle, two sons unresponsive to her example and urgings, ~1~14 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 complications created by her clerical superiors. All of those were accepted with graciousness and with unwavering love, but at greatcost. Her surrender became a transforming~force. In a few years she moved from an uncertain groping toward faith to an absolute spiritual mastery. At the time of Annina's death she described her anguish as a "grief of the heart--never a grief of the soul." That composure no doubt resulted from her manifestation of faith through surrendering to God's will. But with no less surrender at a later point she came to kno~w what grief of the soul meant. In her writings one can detect the presence of a dark night, a great dryness of spirit. In discovering that she suffered from such dryness w,e ought to take great solace because that is a sorrow which all of us share. Few of us know, or will know, any equal to her personal hardships. We find her endurance and equanimity marvelous and are tempted~otO think those characteristics more within the grasp of a saint than of ourselves. Nor are we very anxious to be tested. But all of us who have come beyond the earliest stages of our journey toward God know something about darkness and dryness. So here is an experience that we do share with Elizabeth. Do you recall in .your formative years in the Community any instructions on the meaning or purpose of. darkness or how to handle it? 1 don't. Yet that pattern comprises a large part of our prayer life. Elizabeth wrote about it: "This sadness of mine ~I cherish as a grace." Precisely! When we common folk can come to recognize our' darkness and dryness in prayer as God's choice for the present moment, and to surrender to that choice, we too can know the grace of transformation. That isa humbling experience and a thrilling one. Father Green says that the major part of the work of transformation in the life of a pray-er isaccomplished by surrendering to this dryness, this darkness.S The darkness is a grace. It calls us to.yield our very selves, and to be acted upon by a loying God. As prayer appears fruitless and we learn the lessons regarding .this new way to pray, we have to let go of control, words, formulae, comfort. We must learn simply to attend and yield to God. That is what prayer is all about. It can bring us to love even as we speak we desire to love: Surrendering to what ~is.happening to us in prayer can result in surrendering our whole life. Understanding this experience of apparent distance from God as proof of his very presence and of his wanting to strip and transform us, allows the experience to ready us for eternity, and allows us to yearn for him with realism. Here. indeed, We are,,one with our foundress, who matured in faith through sorrow and surrender. Lest emphasizing those three facets of Elizabeth's faith obscures the whole, let us look at the woman whom faith ~brought Elizabeth Seton to become, the whole woman, and examine her as described by Joseph Dirvin.6 Toward the end of her twelve years in religious life, Dirvin says of her, "Elizabeth had balance, a superior c, ommon sense--divine and human that puts everything in its place,unerringly, tidily." Dirvin speaks of her spirituality a.s "wide, warm, 7he Charity of the Sisters of Charity / 345 sunny, practical, generous, informal, American." He describes her as "romantic, poetic, tender," yet a realist; efficient in her work, simple, down-to-earth, a "woman of hope and unconquerable optimism."? Who: wouldn't appreciate being so described? One concludes that the faith that filled and drove her, brought her to wholeness, holiness, at its loveliest, its feminine loveliest. Women of the Church Finally, we are called to be Women of the Church. This realist whom we emulate spoke deathbed words which have clearly echoed in Charity hearts for more than one hundred sixty ybars: "My Sisters, be daughters of the Church; be daughters of the Church." It was always with great affection that she spoke of "our Church in America" and believed in its future greatness. She whose entry into that Church was such a struggle became an intimate part of a young American Church, saw its strength and dreamed its dreams--including a role for her Sisters of Charity. She also saw its unsteady side, the fragility of its human component. She herself was a victim of that weakness. It seems safe to claim that the pronouncement of Vatican II concerning the Church a century and a half later, and the thrust that the Council initiated would have delighted Elizabeth Seton and would have been in tune with her understanding of what she called "the mystery of the Church." Vatican II called it that also. The dogmatic constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, described the Church as a kind of sacrament of salvation, the way to ultimate union with the God of our faith. The Council Fathers took pains to show two aspects of that sacrament: the one--institutional, structural; the other--the Church as ~ gathering of a messianic people, of God's people. Lumen Gentium begins, not with the treatment of structures and government, but with the aspect of the people of God. It views his people in terms of dignity, witness, .ministry, and relationships to one another. When the Council Fathers develop the concept of the institutional Church, they do so in terms of service to God's people, never domination. They identify the aim of the structure to nurture, to contribute to the growth of God's people, to serve the human family through the various functions of authority, teaching, governing, sanctifying. But the Council Fathers also make clear that both aspects of the Church are made up of frail and sinful people who are in constant need of forgiveness and renewal. In that post-Vatican Church Elizabeth Seton would feel very much at home. She grasped its mystery, on the one hand with great affection, service, loyalty, respect; on the other, with a sympathy for human frailty and at times, with loving criticism. She complained to Church authority when she saw decisions impeding the good that she felt God intended, or interfering with freedom of conscience--the conscience of others, never her own. Archbishop Carroll received many a letter from her bemoaning decisions made by Sulpician superiors, asking him to adjudicate their propriety. However, the content of those letters always testifies to her understanding of authority, and to her loyalty. As Dirvin says, "She knew when to fight and when to submit."7 3t16 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Struggling for that kind of balance is a lesson for her twentieth-century daughters in a time which Jesuit Avery Dulles described as the "century of the Church.TM We as women of that Church must breathe its air, think in its terms, identify with its people, be involved in its struggles, fine tune the voice of God's Spirit, so that our convictions and subsequent struggles are devoid of self-interest or personal causes. True women of the Church are first faith-filled women in love with their God. Only from that perspective can we be genuine leaven in ~society, agents of transformation. Whatever else it is, the Church to which our foundress commended us is charged with the revelation of God's mystery. It is to be the agent of our meeting God, of bringing him to men and women, and of bringing men and women to him. Our Church is a universal church. In today's world communi-cation, transportation, international attitudes join people in every segment of the globe. All peoples deserve our prayers, our concern and some of our service, but our compelling charism is to be women of the American Church, just as it was Elizabeth's in her brief time. Elizabeth Ann Seton had a particular understanding of that American Church which grew out, of her understanding of both American Protestantism and Italian Catholicism. Long before its time, she seemed to understand both aspects of Vatican ll--the mystery of the Church as God's people in their journey toward him, and the structured Church, the various levels of which she dealt with in a very personal way during the twelve years she gave life to the Sisters of Charity. Her hope for our Church and her fidelity to it was not blind. She knew human frailty--her own, her sisters, the clergy; she experienced a lack of understanding personally and on behalf of the congregation. If justice were impeded or good thwarted she spoke and wrote with conviction and with a marvelous mix of humility~ courage, frankness and reverence. Regardless of our point of view, I daresay that each of us is troubled in some way about today's Church. We may have misgivings about the place of American women religious, about official or semiofficial positions takeri or not taken, or about the expectations of the hierarchical Church vis-a-vis our renewal experience of the last twenty years. Sixteen decades after she asked us to be women of this Church, what would be Elizabeth Seton's advice to us today? With no claim that 1 have heard her accurately I do want to share with you what 1 believe 1 heard. I believe that her advice would be voiced with enthusiasm for post-Vatican life in the Church and in religious life; that with us she would find these times of change and uncertainty rich, growthful, challenging. I think her advice would go something like this~three categories, three points under each: Advice for the Head I. Keep recalling the nature of the Church. Have sympathy and patience with the human element, with the need toaddress diversity and to learn The Charity of the Sisters of Charity 34"/ 2~ from it. When there are differences, know, always that there are two sides to the issue. Appreciate the good will of those who judge the position differently, and think very long thoughts about its being God's Church and about the ultimate direction being in his hands. As women with gifts in their heads, continue to probe and to learn. Having limited vision makes us part of the problem. The total truth resides in no one human being, but the more of that truth which we possess the more we bring God's mind to the task. Recognize the importance of bridgebuiiding for effectiveness. If one spans a spectrum, no "we/they" division becomes possible. Advice for the Heart i. Foster positive emotions so as to outweigh negative ones. Our love for God's people should tip the balance against any cynicism about the institution. Our gratitude for mystery should outstrip any impatience with human limits. Our hope for the Goff of our faith is more powerful than any kind of discouragement. There are all sorts of wisdom afloat about what can be accomplished by light hearts as opposed to heavy ones. 2. Let your hearts be governed by your experience of the Lord. Yearn for him and his kingdom as the very framework for your life in the Church. That kind of perspective enables "living with" a great deal which we may find frustrating. 3. Stretch toward an unyielding, full-hearted commitment. Expect to pay the price to accomplish that good. Elizabeth Seton taught us that. Jesus Christ taught us that! If things go smoothly, it might just be because they are going our way. Advice for the Person I. Elizabeth Seton anticipated that Sister-of-Charity presence would effect good in the Church. We, as individuals and as a congregation, should make decisions about our service on the basis of contributing toward a stronger, healthier American church. In a time of lessening numbers, it is critical that we target strategic areas of service with special concern for the ne~ds of the poor, whether that poverty be of body, of mind, or of heart. 2. The gifts of our women are our greatest resource. Developing those gifts, preparing for ministry and choosing that ministry become the joint responsibility of congregation and sister. 3. We represent and participate in both aspects of Church. We are part of the People of Ggd; we are, as women religious, some part of the structure of the Church. We therefore have two kinds of loyalty, two kinds of understanding, we must strive to balance those two parts of the Church as she did. 1 believe that Elizabeth might hope for us to do so 34~1 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 with the feminine traits we have. learned from our God: compassion, gentleness, patient fidelity, the urge to give life. We will make a real difference among Grd's peopl~ and ifi the institutional Church, and therefore in the to~tal, Church, only if weare deeply of God. Only as ]'aith-filled will we be impelled to be women of the Church. And so, as was stated in the beginning, "We Sisters of Charity are called to be faith-filled women of the Church." It is our heritage and vocation. It is a mark by which we are to be recognized. It is our gift, the treasure we keep alive, for those who also will come to be Sisters of Charity. NOTES ~John Carroll Futrell, S.JL "Some Reflections on the Religious Life," Review for Religious, 28, pp. 705-718. 2Norbei-t Brockman. S.M., ~The Shadow Side of Charism," Review for Religious, 35, pp. 229-231. -~Catholic Theological Society of America's convention, reported in National Catholic Reporter, July 15. 1983. 4Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Ave Maria Press, 1979). Slbid. 6Joseph I. Dirvin, C.M., Mrs. Seton (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979). 71bid. ~Avery Dulles, S.J. "Introduction to the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church," in" The Documents of Vatican 11 (Guild Press, 1966). Marriage and Continence Complement Each Other Jesus did not say that marriage was inferior to celibacy in itsel£ He recommended celibacy only for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. The two forms of life are complementary. The Christian community witnesses to the eschatological dimension of the kingdom through celibacy for its sake. Married love must be marked with the fidelity and total self-giving that are the basis of religious and priestly celibacy; and continence for the sake of the kingdom of heaven must lead to parenthood of a spiritual kind (John Paul ll, General Audience, 19 April, 1982; L'Osservatore Romano, 19 April, 1982). Bonding Together for Mission Melinda Roper, M.M. Sister Melinda Roper has been president of the Maryknoll Sisters since 1978. This article is based On an addres~ given by her to the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cleveland in preparation for their Chapter of November, 1983. Sister Melinda may be addressed at: Maryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, NY 10545. ~am happy to be able to share with you some of my reflections and experience on mission. I would like to talk about how mission is a source of energy and commitment in community and how commfinity is a source of energy and commitment in mission. Where we begin to discuss such a theme is important. My starting point is the recognition of a fundamental tension which permeates both mission and community. This tension is described by the following phrases ih John's gospel: "They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world,"(Jn 17:16), and "As thou didst send me into,.the world, so I have sent them into the world," (Jn 17:18). The everlasting kindness and faithfulness of God's love for the world is condemned and crucified by that same world: "And the world has hated them because they are not of the world, even as | am not of the world," (Jn 17:14). Why does this happen? Why must it happen? Is there any way for Christians, the Church and religious communities to evade conflict and confrontation with the world? Today, as in the histo~'y of the Church, there are two principal routes of escape: isolation and aloofness from the world is one; the other is through compromise with the world. Each route is paved with fear whose source is self-interest, be it "eternal" self-interest, or the temporary security of power and comfort. If we opt for one of these routes, there are many scenic side paths along the way which subtly distract us from the isolation or compromise we may have chosen. We thus elude this fundamental energy and tension in the life and person of Jesus to which John refers. 350 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 As we read the letters of Paul to the early Christian communities, we can trace these same tendencies to escape the radical implications of.believing in Jesus Christ: Yet among the mature we do impart wisdom, although it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age who are doomed to pass away. But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glorification. None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory (I Co 2:6-8). As I look at many groups within the Church in the United States today, I perceive that we have moved from a spirituality of flight from the world into the arena of public issues to a degree that had not been part of oi]r recent past. We have moved into the world. As we continue to become involved in public issues, especially those which deal with economic and political policies and structures, we must be keenly aware of the radical differences between the wisdom and tactics, strategies and ideologies of the world and the wisdom of God in Jesus Christ. Our temptation today may be to seek change by compromising the wisdom of God with that of the "rulers of this age." Most Christian communities today have given much time, effort and prayer to social justice, solidarity with the poor and world peace. Our intention and motivation are in harmony with our great biblical tradition. Yet, how frequently do we find ourselves co-opted by the ways of the world when it comes to action toward a future world of peace with justice. It seems that there are at least five considerations we must address if we are not to be coerced and co-opted by the world: ~ 1. The Christian community dreams of and envisions, the reign of God together. How do we concretize our vision of the kingdom or reign of God today? Each culture and society will descri6e the fullness of life or the reign of God with different images. The biblical images with which we are familiar range from a land flowing with milk and honey, where no one is in need, to the heavenly Jerusalem coming out of heaven, with God dwelling among us and wiping away all tears, death, rriourning and pain. The quality of our relation-ships will flow from a superabundance of love and understanding; there will be no inequality among nations,, races, men and women, rich and poor. Today, what are the concrete images tliat we in a technological culture visualize for ourselves and our sisters and brothers around 'the world as we move in hope towards the reign of God? How much does the "great American dream" of our ancestors--freedom, liberty and justice for all--influence our vision of the reign of God? Perhaps we have increasingly greater difficulty concretizing our ~,ision of the fullness of life for all peoples. I believe this is also one of the greatest challenges for us rdigious today regarding community, living. What are the concrete images and vision~ we have of community in terms of thee reign of God? It 'seems tO me that the twff Bonding Together for Mission / 351 are intimately and intrinsically ,bound up in each other. Our religious communities can only exist for and within the reign of God, not for themselves. What is our vision? It is not sufficient for individuals to articulate a vision. Communities of believers must share a vision. 1 believe that shared reflection moves us more deeply into the wisdom of God. As our ability to listen,becomes more sensitive, we enter into the harmony and paradox of our world and of~our God. We will become communities Of contemplation; From this contemplation together will flow a vision for tomorrow. The most concrete question I can put before you is: Do we take the time? 2. The Christian community discerns and selects together those ministries which will move it toward its vision. How do we move from where we are today towards our vision? This question is a bit easier to comment on because we can deal directly with where and how we expend our time and energy. We do make choices and organize our lives and communities in order to effect change in our world. For most of us, our ministries or apostolic works are key indicators .as to how we see the reign of God coming about, and this is also where we can easily slip into the coercion~of the world of which John and Paul wrote so much. Iwill use one example of this coercion which I judge to be very subtle in our society, culture and Church, namely: professionalism. It is a two-edged sword because, on the one hand, the skills and knowledge we can acquire in order to better serve others in the spirit of the Gospel are extremely useful. On the other hand, the systems, institutions and values within which a profession is learned and exercised are frequently fundamentally opposed to the Gospel. Perhaps the old American dream was envisioned as coming about through competence and hard work, but that is not sufficient for the coming of the reign of God. Some of the mechanisms which keep our systems going are: competition, prestige and achievement rewarded by salary, benefits and promotion to positions of greater control and management. We become immersed in bureaucracy instead of in the life of the world. Once,we begin to take all these on as signs of success and even as sources of our identity, we are being co-opted by the world, and, before we know it, we begin to accommodate ourselves, our institutions and the Gospel to the standards and values of the world. Let no one deceive himself. If any one among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is folly with God. Forit is written: "He catches the wise in their craftiness," and again: "The Lord knows that th~ thoughts of the wise are futile" (I Co 3:18-20). I believe thav'0ne of thekey functions of the religious commu.nity today in the United States is to reflect and discern together those ministries and works which ate most in tune with the spirit of the Gospel. At the same time, we challenge each other and our ihstitutions to a keen awareness of the great possibilities of being coerced and co-opted by those values and standards 352 / Review for. Religious, May-June, 1984 which demand that the Gospel be accommodated. What procedures and criteria do we use in order to set directions or priorities in ministry? 3. The Christian community chooses a lifestyle which contradicts those values in a c~lture which undermine the Gospel There is a ,.fundamental tension in most religious communities today regarding lifestyle, especially concerning material goods. In most .of the great religious traditions, including the Christian tradition, there is a stream of asceticism and spirituality which advocates simple or austere living .in the pursuit of truth. There is also the fact that most organized religions, at one time or another 'in their history, have become wealthy and powerful according to worldly values. In terms of their purpose, this is frequently evaluated as a time of decadence. The Catholic Church in the United States has moved from being a Church of the poor immigrant to one having social acceptability and even prestige. We religious have moved right along with this change. Our expectations of material comfort, from health care to diet and entertainment, have blended pretty well with those of our society. In one sense, this may not be so bad in that we are no longer traveling an escape route of isolation and aloofness. In another sense, though, it is time to examine the invasion of materialism and consumerism into our values and understanding of the Gospel. To the degree that our economic structures, which both support and export materialism, undermine our vision of the reign of God, we who form Christian communities must be a living sign of contradiction. We must remember, however, that we, as Jesus, are sent into the world, not away from it. We will be tempted to compromise. Living community today means that we can both affirm and challenge each other to become living signs of contradiction to our unjust, materialistic society. ,, 4. The patterns o~f relationship in the Christian community contradict the fear and defensiveness in United States society. Again, ~we must look at the reality of our society and culture .and .be sensitive and insightful in order to clearly distinguish that which is of the world and that which is of the Gospel. Examples abound--and I will select just one for comment: our system of defense in the name of national security. Any defense system is based more on attitudes and values than on dollars and weapons. First of all, it requires an enemy and a threat. It necessitates sufficient fear in order to mobilize resources to destroy the enemy, in this case, communism. Aititudes of defensiveness and fear permeate our society to such a degree that "an eye for an eye"is not even held up as an acceptable basis for action. Through fear, we have created an enemy who is ,so monstrous that the only acceptable posture of defense is the capability and willingness to totally destroy it. Followers of Jesus are sent into this world to live according to radically different attitudes and values: love your enemies, forgive those who offend Bonding Together for Mission / 353 you, pray for those who persecute you. These teachings are not meant solely for isolated communities of believers. They are meant to be announced and lived in the market places, court rooms, Congresses and White Houses of the world. Paul gives a lot of advice to the early Christian communities. To the community in Corinth, he writes: "When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we try to conciliate; we have become and are now, as the refuse of the world, the offscouring of all things" (I Co 4:12-13). As we attempt to move toward our vision of the reign of God, we will, without doubt, be slandered, persecuted and ridiculed. This will happen because, according to the defensiveness and fear of our woi-ld, we have nothing to defend and nothing to fear. We have a source of hope and truth which makes us free. This freedom is perceived as subversive and as a threat by those who control and operate within the psychological, political, economic and cultural structures and systems of defensiveness and fear. It is neither easy nor simple to be sent into the world with these values. The Christian community and, therefore, the religious community must become a place that is radically different from the world. Our communities challenge the hostility of our society with hospitality, welcoming the refugee and the outcast. We will become a source of courage for each other and for the world. We will also become a sign of contradiction to the world. 5. The Christian community lives and celebrates a universal Eucharist. When we gather in table friendship with the poor, the sinners, the refugees and the outcasts of our society and of our world, we do so in memory of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. As a community of faith, we share his body and blood in forgiveness and in hope of the fullness of life for all peoples. As Eucharist becomes the strength of our unity, it also becomes the energy of our mission. We know that worship without justice is blasphemous; we must come to understand that there is no justice without worship. As communities in mission, we pursue truth and justice with forgiving hearts. As fear disappears from our lives, we become the living memory of Jesus. We celebrate salvation in harmony with all of creation, and in communion with all peoples. 1 have given them thy word; and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; thy word is truth. As thou didst send me into the world, so 1 have sent them into the world (Jn 17:14-18). This is Jesus' prayer for us. He not only prayed for us, but he himself experienced what he prayed. He calls and sends us into the world to be the living memory of that prayer "God so loved the world . , May our communities move freely into the world to announce and live the Good News of the reign of God. Mission as Communication: A Marginal Note Anthony J. Gittins, C.S.Sp. Father Gittins, who has had "mission experience" in the conventionally accepted sense of the term, is now a member of London's The Missionary Institute and resides at the Chaplain's Residence; 34 Adolphus Road; London N4 2PP; Engl.and. Contraries and Contradictories The Church is missionary by nature; we are coming to the end of missionary work. Missionaries are special people who go overseas to preach the Gospel," you can be a missionary from a hospital bed. Every Christian is a missionary; we can't all be missionaries. A few people have a special missionary charism; if you are not a missionary, you are not a Christian. Today is the age of mission on six continents; today we must have a moratorium on missionary activity. "I work in a London parish, but I'm a missionary," . I'm not really a missionary, but l~n working here in Tanzania for a few years." "This is a comfortable, urban parish--it badly needs a missionary; . This middle class, comfortable parish is not for me--l'm a missionary." One could easily multiply these antithetical and seemingly contradictory statements, all of which are easy to elicit these days. I list them only as a reminder that the notions "mission" and "missionary" are still emotive terms and not amenable to a simple, acceptable definition. If we were to look at the usage of the word "pastoral," we would find similar problems of definition and clarification; and any discussion which tries to contrast the notions "missionary" and "pastoral," and to reach satisfactory and agreed conclusions on the distinctive and common features of each, is almost certainly bound to end in an impasse. Each of those opening statements contains some truth, indeed some important truth; but each too contains either some gross oversimplification or 354 Mission as Communication [ 355 some very dangerous implication. Could we not simply reach a careful and common definition of mission, and solve the ambiguities? In the following pages 1 will consider the question: "how can one be a missionary?" and avoid the questions: "what is mission?" and "what is a missionary?", since to attempt to do the latter would be to fall into the trap of defining mission and missionary, which is impossible; the words "define" and "definition" contain the notions of "limits" or "limitations," and derive from the Latin verb "to set bounds to." Yet the word mission comes from the verb "to send," and in some sense at least, the missionary is someone who is sent without limit, to the ends of the earth if necessary. So let us not define mission; let us not set bounds to the ends of the earth. Identifies and Differences If there is no useful reason to attempt an etymological definition of mission, and no theological reason either, why, we may ask, is it so fashionable to try to define the concept? And why has so much ink been recently spilled, on this issue? Do missionaries need to define themselves? I suggest that there is, and has been for some time, a tendency, inhibiting and unhealthy--a tendency both in conversation and in print, and illustrated in part by some of the statements with which I started--to overanalyze the concept of mission, to the point where missionaries have become self-conscious and apologetic or aggressive. Do missionaries need to prove that they are different from everyone else, somehow special? Do they need to be assured like James and John, that they will sit by the side of Christ in his glory (Mk 10:35-37), or to be told that they are the greatest (Mk 9:33-34), even though they should be very familiar with the mind of Christ on these matters? Do the professional missionaries, whose identity was once unquestioned and unchallenged, now feel peeved that they have borne the burden and heat of the day only to find latecomers equally acknowledged and rewarded (Mr 20:1 !-i6)? Is this not what Christ warned us against? When you have done all you have been told to do, say "We are merely servants: we have done no more than our duty" (Lk 17:10). So long as any missionary is basically insecure and needs to be accepted as "special," he or she simply cannot fulfill the missionary and Christian vocation. What is needed is a strong sense of identity and self acceptance, certainly: a sense of purpose and a sense of vocation. But if the identity of the missionary vocatipn is unclear, how is the individual missionary to cope? And if missionaries cannot cope with themselves, how can they cope with others? A strong self-image and self acceptance are prerequisites for authentic service, and need to be nurtured through parents and family or through other forms of community. Religious or apostolic communities are, theoretically, ideally constituted to provide affirmation, solidarity and support, yet many such communities are notoriously poor at reinforcing and encouraging their members, whether 3[i6 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 through rivalries within or uncertainty and disagreement about the nature of their apostolate and lifestyle. Anyone with an underdeveloped sense of identity or selfworth, is hardly going to be able to affirm others, because such a one feels threatened; and anyone without a conviction about the nature of mission, is not going to be able to challenge or share with others. While some individuals search for their vocation anew, and institutes try to rediscover their charisms as though they were some pot at the end of the rainbow, many missionary institutes settle unhappily or unknowingly into a terminal stage of their existence, and other individuals agonize over their loyalties to their communities and their own integrity. And all the while, "mission" remains an imperative of the Church, generous souls seek an authentic experience of this reality, and new shoots are to be seen tentatively pushing through the earth's mantle into another spring. Exclusion and Inclusion The different Christian denominations have moved increasingly--on the individual and community level--towards identifying and exploiting what they have in common rather than isolating themselves in their differences. But whilst there has been undoubted progress and marked goodwill among the denominations, there remains much work to be done within them. I can and will speak only of the Catholic Church when I say we have sometimes seemed to overemphasize the difference between us, on an individual, parish or religious-institution basis. And, admittedly justifiably on occasion, we have made a virtue out of pluralism and variety, where a greater virtue might have been discovered in exploiting areas of similarity and examining possibilities for collaboration. Why should we make lines of demarcation and distinction unless we are certain they are necessary? Why foster an exclusive mentality when an inclusive invitation is central to the Gospel? Why distinguish what is pastoral from what is missionary, unless to do so is to discover a great truth? What is devalued if we say that all pastoral activity must be missionary, and that all missionary activity must be pastoral? We can argue that there is a real distinction to be carved out between what is pastoral and what is missionary,I but less and less is there any justification for defining them in exclusive terms, as either/or. Far more important than a terminological issue is a psychological issue? how can we make mission work more pastoral and pastoral work more missionary: to put it another way, how can the universal Church be localized, and the local Church be universalized? And how can we break away from a narrow parochialism of ecclesiastical structures if our minds, however putatively missionary, are parochial? If the pastoral and missionary dimensions of the Church cannot be dynamically interrelated, it is difficult to understand how the outcome of apostolically oriented undertakings can build up the body of Christ which is the Church. To say that everyone is called to take some part in the mission of the Mission as Communication / 357 Church, is surely not so much to devalue mission as to value each Christian; it is to challenge the secure ahd the complacent, and to encourage the fainthearted and timid; it is to see the call of Christ as inclusive rather than exclusive. So what is this call of Christ? It is something so powerful that a matter of an hour or two after having borrowed the boat of a fisherman and preached from it, Jesus had Peter, a bluff fisherman, agreeing to fish where he had spent a fruitless night, and with his partners James and John turning his back on the security of his fisherman's business, leaving everything he had, and following the stranger. That is the call: as stark and unqualified as: "come, follow me." This, essentially, is what characterizes the Christian; essentially it is what characterizes the missionary: the response to the call of Jesus, wherever that call may lead. Jesus himself did not go far from his home, but his mission was from his Father to the whole of humankind. Our participation in that mission is more important than any location, and it is as possible to be missionary on one's doorstep, as it is to fail to be missionary ten thousand miles from home. Our only objective should be to be included in the Mission of Christ, not so much by where we are as by who we are. Apostles and Apostils An apostle is someone who is sent out with a mandate; an apostil is something in the margin, an e×empIification. Just as the Son of Man was not called to be served but to serve (Mt 20:28), and as the servant is not above the master (Jn 13:14-15), so we are called to serve (Lk 22:26). So the Christian, being a missionary, is sent out with a mandate, and the mandate is "to serve." The one who serves is a server or a servant, an.d the word servant comes from the Latin for a slave--a person legally owned by another: one with no freedom of action or the right to property, or, in a very accommodated sense, one who works in very harsh conditions for very little remuneration. Jesus came to serve (Mt 20:28), and of his own lifestyle he remarked: Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head (Mt 8:20). So what are we called to, if we follow Jesus? Though it is rapidly becoming a clich6 that it is more important for us to be than to do, I would like to reflect on the truth therein and say further that for missionaries it is more important to be than to go; if we solve thefirst problem or rise to the first challenge, the second will not frighten or confuse us. What we are called to do is to become marginalized; otherwise we cannot follow Jesus, since he went to the "lost sheep" of the house of Israel. He was himself sent to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free (Lk 4:18). But the point is not so much what he did, as who he was, and in looking at 35~1/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 what he did, we see what he was: pushed to the margins of society. There is little point in one's going to a foreign country if one cannot communicate. I may go to France or Germany with no French or German, and provided there is someone who is linguistically competent in my language, we can communicate. And we have been reminded a thousand times of the necessity of language-learning for missionaries; I am not going to repeat that reminder. But if one is to go to the margins of society--to the poor, the prisoners, the blind, the downtrodden and dispossessed--how is one to communicate? Since by definition they are not able to communicate in terms of the rich, the free, the sighted, the emancipated and the privileged, there is only one way. If they are like French or Germans who speak no English and cannot hope to, then the English must learn French or German. And if we are to be missionaries in the spirit of Jesus, we must not only realize that we must become marginalized; nor is it sufficient to want to become marginalized; we must learn to become marginalized. Some missionaries certainly realize that they must become marginalized, and of those, some certainly want to. But how many really learn to become marginalized, and how many don't see the problem? It is not for me to point the finger or to make judgments; I am having enough of a problem recognizing the issue. It is not possible to be an apostle without being an apostil: out on the margin--an example. Missions and Margins One of the popular definitions of mission is the following: "a group of people sent by a religious body, especially a Christian Church, to a foreign country to do religious and social work." It is the "foreign country" that characterizes this definition, and many people would accept this without demur. It may be argued that this is a necessary element; but it is certainly not a sufficient one. The missionary must in some sense be on the margin of society. But how can one accept a marginalized status (surely this is a "cross-cultural" dimension of mission?) if one cares overmuch about defining oneself as special? And if a person does not have a strong sense of identity, belonging, and self acceptance, how is it possible to embrace others at the margin of society and not be crushed and destroyed? We need to be trained to be marginalized since most of us have no idea what it is like. We are secure, fed, housed, privileged; we need to be "conscientized" before it is too late and we react with incredulity to the burning accusation: I was hungry and you never gave me food; I was thirsty and you never gave me anything to drink; 1 was a stranger and you never made me welcome; naked and you never clothed me, sick and in prison and you never visited me (Mt 26:41-44). If we are not trained we will make dreadful and culpable mistakes, for goodwill is not enough. Without training we will not be able to localize the Mission as Communication / 359 Church--make it relevant to the people of God. And how can the local Church localize, unless we marginalize? Otherwise we are perpetuating an unwholesome and stifling universalism. Without training we will try to perpetuate a Church "always and everywhere the same," with no idea of the forces of social change and the real problems of real people. Without training we will not be walking with the poor and the disenfranchised and the marginalized--we will be walking by them, and maybe even on them. The real meeting to be effected is not, 1 suggest, between us--English, American, Italian--and them--African, Latin American, Hispanic: us and therh in this context are almost totally other, almost alien to each other. That kind of meeting would be like the meeting between tourists on a round-the-world trip, and the Mud-men. of Papua New Guinea or the dancers of Bali. No, the real meeting, the model for which is Jesus (see Lk 7:22-23), is between the marginalized: the 1--by choice not quite part of the value system of a dominant culture, wherever it may be, and the Thou--by necessity not quite part of the value-system of a dominant culture. Whether at home or abroad, the apostle with the true missionary spirit, will become inculturated at all levels, not only by learning the language and culture but by taking the mission of Jesus seriously (Lk 4:18), to the point of insecurity, unpredictability, discomfort, and the rest--not because these things are good, but because they are the burden of the children of God, and that burden has to be lifted by strong hands lest it crush the weak. Only when we share the burden can we begin to walk together--otherwise we exploit or patronize those we are sent to serve. It does not really matter how we are described on our passport or on immigration papers; it doesn't matter very much what actual job we do. But it matters a great deal who we are and who we are becoming. Not everyone can be as visibly marginalized as everyone else, but we can all be detached from things and attached to people. A simpler lifestyle is mandatory, otherwise we are guilty of injustice; and the cultivation of a "marginalized mentality" would seem to be demanded. Whoever is not this much marginalized is not missionary. And whoever is not missionary is not yet fully Christian. Communication and Context The first letter of Peters provides a context of hope and an eschatological dimension for our reflections. Christians are urged to animate society by the witness of good works and their general lifestyle (1 P 2:12, 14; 4:!9), not in order to proselytize but to communicate to the people the promise of God, to receive his glory (I P 4:7-11). They are to be involved(I P 2:11-35: 5:5-8), and to be filled with hope. The letter develops a theology of vocation, and in our own day we surely need to continue, in our programs of formation and beyond, to tease out a theology and praxis for communicating the Good News in an appropriate context--not from ivory towers or groves of academe alone. 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 Communication is only possible when there are interlocutors who have not simply a code in common but find the context in which that code can be transmitted and received with minimum interference. First there has to be a meeting; then reciprocity; and finally comprehensibility. Only if we are trained, only if we learn the code and are prepared to listen as well as speak, can we hope to have any communication. But at least the marginalized can begin to talk to the marginalized; they do speak the same language. NOTES ~Decree on the Missionary Activity of the Church, n. 6, in The Documents of I/atican IL W. Abbott (Chapman, 1967), p. 592. 2A helpful article for further reading is: B. A. Joinet, "Integrating the Mission Societies into the Local Church," esp. pp. 271-272, in Mission in Dialogue, edited by Motte and Lang (Orbis Books, 1982), pp. 264-281. 3For this section I have referred to D. Senior and C. Stuhlmueller, The Biblical Foundations of Mission (SCM, 1983), pp. 300-302. Theology and the Magisterium ¯. be faithful to your faith, without falling into the dangerous illusion of separating Christ from his Church, or the Church from her magisterium. "Love for the concrete Church includes fidelity to the testimony of faith and the ecclesiastical magisterium and does not alienate the theologian from his proper task nor deprive it of its irrenounceable consistency. Magistcrium and theology have different functions. Therefore, one cannot be reduced to the other" (Discourse to Theologi-ans of Germany. Alt6tting. Nov. 18, 1980. n. 2: cited in John Paul I1: Address to Theologians ~f Spain. November I. 1982. n. 5). On Being an Ex-Superior Roland J. Faley, T.O.R. Father Faley served as Vicar General (1971-1977) and as Superior General (1977-1983) of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis. During his earlier term, he wrote "Generalates and Social Justice," which appeared in the issue of May, 1976. Currently he is an associate pastor at St. Michael Parish; 3713 Harwood Road, Bedford, TX 76021. ~n the post-conciliar Church considerable attention has been given to the continuing formation of almost all segments of religious life. Little has been said, however, of the lot of the ex-superior. The term is used here in the sense of the major superior in a religious order or congregation. The person who is called to leadership in a religious community today is faced with many difficulties which are unlike those of former times. Authority is called to be more dialogic which can be psychologically draining and certainly more time absorbing. There are new "crises" with which he or she is faced: diminishing vocations, overworked religious, new directions in the community's apostolic thrust, not to speak of the personal problems, brought about by the winds of change, faced by religious of the institute. Major superiors in most communities have a limited term of office. An initial three or four year term is the usual minimum which in many instances leads to reelection. This means a mandate of service of six to eight years. A superior general may very well serve double that length of time. Since there is not usually an apprenticeghip for this type of service (at least prudence would seem to dictate the contrary!), this means that the initial adjustment can be, if not traumatic, at least very demanding. During the length of the term of office it is very difficult for the major superior to meet the need for her or his continuing education, at least over any extended period of time, because of the weighty responsibilities inherent in the office. Vacation time is usually kept to a minimum. Moreover a great deal of mobility is required with superiors dividing their time between the central office and the various houses and 361 362 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 missions of the institute. It is probably safe to say that even the most insensitive religious today, who may have all sorts of difficulties with authority, is forced to admit that this is a service to the community which exacts a very high price. Today men and women are called to leadership roles within an institute at an increasingly earlier age. This of course brings vitality and thrust to the office, but it also means that these religious finish their term of office with a consider-able life span still ahead of them. This is not so in the case of many other eccle-siastical officeholders who hold a position until retirement, at which time they are physically and psychologically at a point of decline. How is the ex-major superior to deal with the future? How is she/he prepared to deal with it? The issue needs to be addressed. The necessity of showing special concern for the psychic health and well-being of religious is today much to the fore and this demand is placed squarely on the shoulders of major superiors. Yet how much attention is given to the superiors' own spiritual, intellectual and psychological needs? Many religious presume that all goes well at the top and never take the time to verify their conclusion. It should be noted that affirmation is not solely a felt need of the people in the ranks. The simple fact is that there is little attention given the major superior, who is presumed to be self-assured, full of confidence and capable of operating somewhat as a robot. Such is not the case. His or her needs are no different from those of others. While seeking to avoid overstatement, one need only reflect on the number of times the major superior becomes the automatic.target for all the ills of the community. More than one person in a leadership role has been subjected to a heated diatribe simply because of the position he or she holds. Moreover their peer group within the institute (other major superiors) are usually far removed geographically and not readily available for consultation and support. It is true that they receive valuable assistance from other major superiors who belong to the national conference of superiors. However, this is often limited to the time of annual meetings or other such gatherings. It is not available on a continuing basis. In recent times much has been done to afford local superiors the chance to meet together regularly. This is becoming increasingly common within institutes today and is helpful in many ways, not the least of which is the decree of peer support which it affords. However, it should be remembered that major superiors do not usually enjoy that same possibility. Members of a provincial or general council can offer a certain measure of support. For this reason it is important that at least some members of the council live in community with the major superior. This affords the major superior someone with whom he or she can share concerns and be assured of confidentiality. But even then it should be noted that people are often elected to the council (and not ordinarily selected by the major superior) for a variety of reasons. Ability and expertise are front and center; compatability with the major superior is not always one of the criteria. In fact, in more than one instance it is sorely lacking. While allowing for exceptions and inevitable variations on the theme, it On Being an Ex-Superior / 36~1 can be said that those called to religious leadership are called to a life of considerable loneliness. They carry much of the burden of their office alone, and, of course, theirs is always the relatively ultimate responsibility. It might well be argued that such isolation should not be the case. Experience however, shows that such does occur and often to the spiritual and human detriment of the person. It should be noted that the office of superior is not that of a professional person who works a nine-to-five day. Many people in society cope with their problems on the basis of the compartmentalization of their life. The hours and locale of work and rest are clearly separated and delineated. In religious life, the role of leadership demands an almost constant availability, the heroics of continuous performance. The needs of religious do not follow the horarium of an ordinary work day. This writer was once told by a former provincial, that after his term of office ended, even the sound of a telephone during the night meant the loss of an entire night's sleep. The crises of night calls had sunk deep into his psyche. State of Mind In what state of mind do superiors reach the end of their mandate? Admittedly for some the transition to a new way of life presents no noticeable difficulty. They move into new assignments with no apparent stress. There are others who evidence no exterior dramatic change but internally suffer a great deal. Still others, after the initial sigh of relief, begin to experience very evident psychological problems. If it can be reasonably posited that most major religious superiors finish their term of office well in advance of retirement age, how are they to address their own future? "Burnout" has become an "in" expression and points to a reality that has become all too common. Many a major superior finishes the term of office in such a state. These persons feel that they have no more to give; they suffer from a pronounced weariness and are psychologically, if not spiritually, drained. The whole experience has proved to be too much. Very often their "wind-down" begins a year before their term ends, during which time the mach!nery of office, for all practical purposes, grinds to a halt. Important decisions, as well as some which are less important, are left to "my successor." There is a pattern of withdrawal from all except essential duties; the only thing anticipated is a "smooth transition." This is a sad picture. It is even sadder when one stops to think of the youth and vigor with which the incumbent began office and then compare it with the signs of age and exhaustion which have come to the fore as the "twilight~ approaches. No new ideas are being generated. The only desire is to leave the office and extend a heartful word of congratulations to the next incumbent. It should be noted well that such a state of "burnout" can have serious spiritual repercussions, even in virtuous and stalwart souls. On the other end of the spectrum are those per,dons who at the end of their ~!64 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1984 term of office still have a very high level of effectiveness. They are so psycho-logically geared to decision making, to generating ideas, and to the overall role of government that they have trouble bringing themselves to the inevitable "slow down." The adrenalin is still running high. A swift transition to a position wherein there is drastic deescalation in authority almost overnight can produce seriously adverse effects. It is not a question of being hungry for power. It is simply that the sustained level of operation to which the person had become accustomed has suddenly ceased, and this in many instances at a relatively early age. Such a person has specific needs to be addressed which are different, but no less pronounced, than those of the person suffering from "burnout." The Period After Leadership It is the writer's conviction based on experience that an extended period of time should be given an outgoing major superior for spiritual and intellectual renewal before any new assignment is made. It is a principle which is valid quite independent of one's character or personality. For legitimate reasons the person has a need for time and space for readjustment and reentry. A sabbatical year is not in any way excessive. This affords a relaxed atmosphere in which the ex-superior is being revitalized and is not called upon to revitalize others. The interests of individuals certainly will vary. Some ex-superiors may feel strongly the need for spiritual renewal; others may see the need for a return to studies in theology or perhaps the discipline which was pursued prior to major superiorship. Still others will sense a need for pastoral "retooling." In all of this a person should be given as much latitude as needed, with as little external pressure as possible. Not infrequently this period of renewal will be pursued away from the houses of the institute. This can be salutary and whol

Issue 52.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1993. ; re lig oIJS C~stian Heritages and: Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1993 . VOLUME 52' ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ~.Vashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $ l 5 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. 01993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Corm PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1993 " VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 166 feature Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Mary Linscott SNDdeN clarifies the interrelati6nship of leader-ship, authority, and religious government in the development of religious life up to the present. 194 202 213 220 226 evangelizing The Meaning of Evangelization Today Janice McLaughlin MM suggests that in the light of her experi-ence in Africa evangelization involves us in a process of change and choices which turn us upside down. Broken African Pots and a Mission Spirituality Mario I. Aguilar SVD proposes that African pottery making pro-vides a model that fits our need for spiritual fulfillment and the j3resence of God in our lives. aging in christ A Spirituality of Aging Michael D. Moga SJ invites the elderly to explore a spirituality well suited for their final years. Soul Making and Life's Second Half Anne Brennan CSJ and Janice Brewi CSJ encourage people in mid-life and beyond to open themselves to the fullness of their inner lives. Life Review, Families, and Older Religious James J. Magee DSW offers a model of life review for older reli-gious to modify their own anxiety in the face of family issues and to help other family members also to work with the issues. 162 Review for Religious 236 238 241 living religiously Hope in Loneliness James Martin SJ searches the emptiness of loneliness and finds space for God and others. Thoughts from Death and Life Vera Gallagher RGS offers a personal reflection on dealing with a serious diagnosis of illness. May I Love You, Lord John Patrick Donnelly SJ provides the first English translation of a psalm-prayer composed by the fifteenth-century Dominican Girolamo Savonarola. 247 259 275 283 visioning religious life Galile£n Perspectives on Religious Life Anne Hennessy CSJ suggests that the sometimes blurred focus on the person and message of Jesus Christ can be helped by a Galilean perspective. Religious Life in Nigeria Today Mary Gerard Nwagwu gives a summary picture of the various forms and influences of consecrated life now common in Nigeria and their influence on society. I Have Kept Faith: Clare of Assisi Karen Karper PCPA highlights some incidents in Clare's spiritual growth and the approval of her religious rule of life. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1992 Kenneth Davis OFM Cony reviews the various events and writings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 304 Canonical Counsel: Common Life 311 Book Reviews March-April 1993 163 prisms a~tican Council II is frequently described as a watershed event in the history of the Catholic Church. Certainly through our eyes now and even in its actual hap-pening the council was one of those precious creative moments which take place randomly, but consistently, in our human affairs. Just as consistently, creative moments are followed by a period of consolidation. A common example (perhaps too easily caricatured) from the history of religious life is the creative action of St. Francis of Assisi in calling forth his gospel-based mendicant group and the later consolidation efforts of Brother Elias to establish solidly this ideal in a lasting community form. Some would term the present period in the Roman Catholic milieu a period of consolidation. As evidence they would point to the promulgation of the Codes of Canon Law for both the Latin Church (replacing the first Code of 1917) and the Eastern Churches (the first for-mulation of a Code). The publication of the new Universal Catechism is another piece of evidence for a consolida-tion movement. With the 1994 Synod of Bishops sched-uled to consider consecrated life, there appears to be a completing of the review of all the groupings which make up the People of God. Consolidation periods lack the euphoria and excite-ment of the creative moments, but they are just as impor-tant if life is to keep its direction and to flourish. We may have a fear of consolidation movements because they seem to represent a rigidity and to forebode an age-long immutability. Others of us may too readily desire consol-idation as a way of returning to the way things were, of rejecting a certain period of time as an aberration. 164 Review for Religio~s Consolidation, after a period of creativity, is meant neither to set in stone the present reality nor to throw aside recent history and return to a fixated tradition. Consolidation is meant much more to be a plateau where gains and losses are assessed, directional lines reviewed and discerned anew, and energies replenished for the continued journey forward of this pilgrim people. Although we have frequently used the word transition to cap-ture these times for our church and for religious life, perhaps more pointedly we might now use the word consolidation. For example, the FORUS study published in our last issue provides religious life with a consolidation document. Religious groups would be using it without serious thought or reflection if they were to reject the legitimate and church-expected experiments of these past decades. Consolidation works only when there have been some creative moments preceding. Without creative moments, life--any life, religious or other--weakens and faces death. That continues to happen to lifeforms throughout our planet and, more pointedly, may be happening to some religious congregations at this time. On the other hand, without consoli-dation creative moments are only ephemeral and their energies dissipate to exhaustion. Consolidation is necessary for true growth and sure direction in continuing the movement so that we can focus our energies for the New Evangelization of our time. Consolidation remains just as necessary on the micro as on the macro stage, that is, in our everyday life as well as in the large-scale reflections which we have been making about religious con-gregations. Too often we can pass by the efforts necessary for a consolidation review in our own individual-lives and our living together. Why do we live the way we do, why do we do the works we do? How is this related to my and our love of Jesus Christ and what does it have to say about the evangelizing quality of my and our works? These simple questions are necessary as we look towards the solid future of religious life. David L. Fl.eming SJ Marcb-Atrril 1993 165 MARY LINSCOTT Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government feature More than twenty years ago, in 1969 and 1970, I attended two meetings in St. Louis which were a turning point in the history of the Conference of Major Superiors of Women in the United States. Various developments ensued, one of them being a change of name from Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW) to Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR). In this case the rose by another name did not immediately smell as sweet. The then Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (SCRIS), which had to approve the change, was reluctant to do so on the ground that it involved more than a matter of simple terminol-ogy. The Language and the Reality For the congregation, "major superiors" and "leader-ship" were not synonymous terms; the use of the one for Sister Mary Linscott SNDdeN is a former superior general of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur and a former president of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG). She has worked in the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL). This article is the somewhat shortened text of a talk which she gave in April 1992 to English-speaking superiors and councilors general in Rome and which appeared originally in UISG Bulletin 89. 166 Review for Religious the other could create confusion and even lead to changes of a more ~ubstantial kind, notwithstanding the likelihood that the sisters intended the words to denote the same reality. (We have to bear in mind that the change of name for the conference in the Uiaited States coincided with the reaction against authority which followed the special chapters of renewal and with the beginning of considerable modifications in the structures of religious gov-ernmerit. Moreover, the national conferences [or councils or unions] mandated by Perfectae Caritatis §23 and Ecclesiae Sanctae §42 and §43 were to be of major superiors, both for men and for women.) At all events, SCRIS felt that the substitution of "lead-ership" for "major superiors" could raise problems in an area where clarity was needed. Pc mission for the change came only after long reflection and on condition that the interpretation of the name was in accord with the provisions and intention of the Second Vatican Council. After twenty years the use of the word leadership in documents other than constitutions and directories has become quite widespread. We are used to headlines in our congregational pub-lications: "Province X Elects New Leadership" or "A Report from General Leadership." In some institutes "leadership group" has replaced "team" to denote sisters serving according to the con-stitutions at different levels of government. The usage seems to be mainly in the English-speaking world. Unless the word leaders is ~dopted without translation, as it is occasionally by French- or Spanish-speaking sisters, the concept which it expresses is usu-ally paraphrased or simply implied. For historical reasons the Italians avoid duce and the Germans fiibrer. The French always have responsable to fall back on. In English writing, however, there is a rather frequent use of leader and leadership. Over the years, what has happened to SCRIS's initial diffi-culty about religious institutes' use of the word leadership? A first remark ~hould be, I think, that the distinction of meaning made after 1970 still obtains. Leadership is a charism, a spiritual real-ity given freely by God to individuals for some special purpose in a community; authority in religious institutes is a canonico-juridi-cal as well as a spiritual reality. The two, therefore, are not syn-onymous and not interchangeable. Second, there has been a period in which popular writing and parlance about religious life have tended to avoid the word authority. Instead the term leadership was used but given much of the content that belongs to author- March-April 1993 167 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government ity. This produced some confusion that weakened religious gov-ernment at all levels, but especially the local. In a third phase, more recently, we have had a certain clarification along this line: that, while leadership and religious authority are indeed different and distinct, they do not have to be in conflict, and in fact both are needed for good government. In this clarification some understandings have emerged which I will use for the purposes of this paper. With regard to leadership, wider and more immediate communications, the influence of the international institutes, and the cumulative effects of structural renewal have all helped to bring out the .concept of leadership as a personal gift in its own right. It is a charism expressed in per-sonal qualities which inspire respect, trust, following, sometimes enthusiasm. Since it depends on the qualities of a person, lead-ership is an enduring gift, not something assumed for a certain time and laid down at the end of a mandate. It is not conferred or limited by constitutions, and it cannot be legislated. It does not go with any given responsibility, and in itself it is no more account-able than any other charism. It derives, not from external cir-cumstances, but from inner sources, and it is linked much more with what a person is than with what she does. Leadership is found in many spheres other than government. It exists quite apart from authority. At the same time, the lengthening experience of renewal and the revision of the constitutions have pointed up the need for other elements besides leadership for the effective running of a religious congregation: functional government structures and clearly invested religious authority are essential. Religious author-ity, like that of the Lord from which it ultimately derives, involves a certain power, but it is power as service and for the sake of the mission. Such authority goes with the vow of obedience and is conferred for the achievement of the goals of the congregation: the spread of the gospel in and through the unity, growth, and service of the sisters. Necessary for the religious institute as a human organization, religious authority is also ecclesial in that it derives from constitutions approved by the church. Since it is attached to an office, it is an authority of status. It is given for a specified period to persons duly appointed or elected within the limits of the constitutions and church law. Religious authority has to be accountable. It is personal but not exercised in isola-tion. It can be legislated and must be provided for constitution- 168 Re~iew for Religious ally. It is assumed on a specified date and is laid down at the end of a mandate. It relates to what a person does and to what her responsibilities are, rather than to what she is in herself. Of itself it neither confers nor presupposes leadership, though leadership qualities are obviously desirable in a sister exercising authority. Government is a matter of duly chosen individuals inspiring, directing, and admin-istering with a.uthority the affairs of a con-gregation according to its spirit and sound traditions and according to church law and its own. Of itself government gives a lead, and in a religious congregation it is a con-crete expression of the charism acting to attain the congregation's purpose. I would say that these recent clarifications are helpful. Leadership, authority, and government are now seen as distinct from each other but closely .related in complementarity and all of them necessary for the healthy functioning of religious life. There are difficulties only when they are confused with each other, when one or other of them is not working properly, or when any of them tends to dominate the remaining two. I propose to look at the three elements in interrelation from two different angles. The first is historical. As phenomena in reli-gious life, leadership, authority, and government have come into being at different times in response to different needs, and in the course of history they have had different emphases. A look at their roots and evolution may help us to see better where we are at present with regard to them and may give us some ideas for future direction. The second angle is contemporary. Later in this article I will share with you what a surv4y of sixty approved con-stitutions seems to tell about leadership, authority, and govern-ment in congregations across the world today. The two angles will bring together the past and the present in view of the future. Where does religious government come from? The Phenomenon Where does religious government come from? Perfectae Caritatis §2a says: "Since the final norm of the religious life is the following of Christ as it is put before us fn the gospel, this must be taken by all institutes as the supreme rule" (see canon 662). It was the desire to follow Christ with greater liberty and to Marcb-/lpril 1993 169 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government imitate him more closely that prompted men and women from very early times to practice, in various ways, the evangelical coun-sels (see PC §1) and thus live the gospel radically. As the great persecutions of the early church came to an end, many persons gave gospel witness by withdrawing into the desert and under-taking heroic acts of self-denial and penance as a substitute for martyrdom. Their life was a combat with the forces of evil, whose last stronghold was the wilderness. The call was often solitary, but among those who sought God in the desert there were inevitably some who were experienced and some who were begin-ners, renowned persons and those who were unknown, persons sought out for advice and guidance and those who still had a lot to learn. Without any structure, when there was as yet no orga-nization that required formal authority and government, a kind of leadership based on competence, personal qualities, and experience in the ways of the Lord brought into being some very personal relations between teachers and disciples. The earliest elements of religious leadership may be here: persons together seeking God's will and ways, with the gifts of the one at the service of the other and both persons helped towards the fullness of a Christian vocation. The living of the gospel was still the supreme goal and rule when, in the face of the decline of the desert type of life and because of the changes brought about by the barbarian invasions of western Europe and northern Africa, people grouped together in a more stable manner. Once there was grouping, some kind of agreement, however simple and loose, was necessary for order and peace. In this is the first seed of religious government. Humanly speaking, there would be leaders for the sake of unity if for no other reason. Once grouping was a stable way of life, the leader would usually be the one who founded the group, who accepted followers to form the group, and who contributed most to shaping its way of gospel living by example, prayer, teaching, and organization. It would be up to that person to ensure fidelity to the accepted way of life, to lead in the deepening of spiritual values, to give direction, to ensure viability. Everything would be geared to the gospel as the purpose of the group's existence, )nd the founder would lead in virtue of an authority of competence recognized by the members and by the church. This stable way of life affected the church both locally and universally. The stability of vows, the public witness of life, 170 Review for Religious required contacts with church authorities, especially the local bishop. There had to be the possibility of representation. Moreover, basic though the gospel was, no founder ever felt it sufficient simply to put the gospel text into the hands of his or her religious. The way of living out the gospel in any given congre-gation was expressed in a rule or constitutions usually drawn up by the founder and always approved by the church. The fact of liv-ing vowed life together, therefore, created human, ecclesial, and theological conditions that required the service of some member or members to the others in a way that fostered spiritual values, unity, fidelity to the founding bond and spirit, discernment of direction, links with the church, correction, spiritual and material provision, viability. Such responsibilities could not be undertaken without some kind of authority within the group itself. We there-fore find the elements of religious government coming into being as founders, who by the fact of founding showed qualities of lead-ership, accepted the responsibility of directing their religious fam-ily and each of its members towards the agreed-upon goal of the gospel by a service of authority recognized by the church. This service of authority was still needed in succeeding gen-erations, and for the same reasons as those which first prompted it. Once the founding generation was gone, however, the choice of members who would exercise authority was less obvious. It was not that there were no religious who had the competence, but rather that none had the unique claim of the founder. Loyalty, support, and obedience were given to the member who was duly elected or appointed to exercise authority, and with that there came into being an authority that could be apart from that of competence: an ex officio authority derived from role or status. The Evolution before the 19th Century All this needed considerable time to evolve, and it took on different patterns and structures according to the different charisms which it expressed. Moreover, it developed as new forms of religious life came into being to meet the needs of successive times. The first appearance of religious in the form of monks and monasteries was a spontaneous phenomenon in the church, a free action of the Holy Spirit, but by the 5th century their random multiplication had become such a problem that the Council of March-April 1993 171 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Chalcedon (451) established the requirement of episcopal per-mission for the founding of a monastery and made monks subject to bishops. It was recognized, however, that the community of monasticism required a certain independence in internal matters. Religious government, therefore, came to have two aspects, inter-nal and external, both involving authority. Over a long period the image of episcopal authority, which of its nature is hierarchical in the church, to some extent colored that of religious authority. Certainly the balance between the degree of freedom necessary for internal affairs and the submission to the bishop, which was equally necessary for the good of the local church, was a feature of canonical legislation for religious for centuries. The great founders and reformers somehow found ways to handle both the internal and external relations of religious government. Internally, St. Benedict, father of western monasticism, respected the whole community and united it around the abbot under the discipline of the Rule. Authority, leadership, and government came together harmoniously in his provisions. Externally, in centuries after his own, there were problems over necessary relations with bishops and civil rulers. When Benedict's work was refounded in the Cluniac and Cistercian reforms, Cluny managed to be subject neither to king nor to bishop. It was one of the first of a system of exemptions by which the evolution of religious life was handled. After the desert and the monasteries, both of which types of religious life continue today, a third period with new needs was that of the mendicants. Here the pattern of life was no longer the stability and close unity of the monastery, but instead the diverging travels of friars who went about preaching the good news, begging their way, and giving to the poor. They belonged to a more fluid community often located in a town that had been revitalized either by a growing medieval university or by the com-merce that followed the Crusades. In pursuit of the same gospel ideal as the monks and the desert dwellers, the mendicants orga-nized their lives differently. They did not have stability in Benedict's sense. Their forms of leadership and government had to suit their kind of public witness and the flexibility of their out-reach. The religious whose authority and responsibility for the whole group would parallel those of Benedict's abbot were sig-nificantly given different and suggestive names: guardian for the Franciscans and prior for the Dominicans. With the age of discovery and reform, new forms of religious 172 Review for Religious life, those of the apostolic orders, were the response of the Holy Spirit to the mission opportunities in newly discovered conti-nents and to the theological and educational needs nearer home. Religious life in the Latin church, still very much a European phenomenon, needed people like Francis Xavier, Jean de Br~beuf, and Junipero Serra to carry it to India, Japan, and the Americas. This out-reach in itself was a challenge to structures of government. The pio-neer missionaries were often at great distances from their original commu-nities. They were inevitably few, at least at the beginning, yet they were an important growing point of the institutes to which they belonged. They needed good leadership quali-ties themselves and a considerable del-egation of authority. The kind of religious government that was strong primarily at the local level did not really match their gift. There had to The Jesuits in their government heightened both leadership and authority and gave a new importance to what would henceforth become general-level administration. be support from a higher level where the overview of everything could unify the various local endeavors and thereby achieve a par-ticular witness to Christ. Not by coincidence is the general supe-rior of the Jesuits called the praepositus. Exempt from immediate episcopal control so as to be free for papal mandates, the succes-sors of St. Ignatius had to combine leadership by competence, which was vital, with the authority to inspire and administer a far-flung apostolic enterprise while strengthening the service given in pastoral, social, and academic fields in Europe. The Jesuits in their government heightened both leadership and authority and gave a new importance to what would henceforth become general-level administration. The Evolution after 1800 With the cataclysm of the French Revolution came various needs which were met by the most recent type of organized reli-gious life: institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate. Although by no means all of these are for sisters, the period since the Marcb-April 1993 173 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Napoleonic Concordat of 1802 has been marked by an extraor-dinarily high proportion of women's foundations. It is on these that I now focus. Very many institutes of sisters came into being as the response of the Spirit to the needs created by the industrial revolution, the successive waves of emigration from Europe to the new world, the opening up of Africa and Asia, and the series of revolutions which swept Europe from 1789 to 1848. They were founded not only to live the gospel themselves and to witness to it in a society that was mainly one of believers, as many previous religious had done, but also to be Christ the teacher or healer or shepherd or apostle of the Father, in ways specified by their founding gifts, in a society which was increasingly post-Christian and material-ist. Their vocation was apostolic, and the government they needed had to provide for apostolic mobility, with its requirement of cen-tralization as well for effectiveness at scattered locations as for unity and corporate direction throughout. They needed their own internal authority. As for leadership, it became clear as time went on that leadership gifts of many different kinds were required for the effective service of these institutes, particularly in areas of the apostolate which involved specialization. A new responsibility for sisters exercising authority was the fostering and harmonizing of these leadership gifts among the members for the unity of the whole and for better service in mission, even though in this case leadership was not related to government but to the apostolate. The governmental needs of the new institutes with regard to centralization and internal authority were not at first easily met. We have to remember that, during the century before 1901, sis-ters in institutes dedicated to apostolic works were technically not recognized by the church at all. It had been the ecumenical councils which determined and enunciated the church's provi-sions regarding religious life, and in the early 19th century the lat-est of these was still the Council of Trent. Trent had made a serious effort to tidy up a very complicated situation according to the signs of its own times. Three years after the close of the coun-cil, the decree Circa Pastoralis (1566) had stated the basic law of the church for religious, summarizing the canons of Lateran IV (1215), Lyons (1274), and Trent that referred to them. According to Circa Pa.storalis, religious were members of the church living a common life with solemn vows and cloister. All orders which were not exempt were subject to the local bishop. By 174 Review for Religious implication, therefore, members of groups which did not have solemn vows or which were not cloistered were not religious, and .they were subject to the local bishop without full internal reli-gious authority of their own because .they were not among the exempt orders. Institutes of sisters dedicated to apostolic work lived and served as religious, looked like religious, had the goals of religious, and gave the witness of religious while having sim-ple vows, little or no cloister, and a different way of living life in common from religious who were in accord with Circa Pastoralis. They needed an internal authority similar to that of the exempt congregations and for reasons like those of the apostolic orders. Actua.lly, the praxis of the church was ahead of its legislation in the 19th century, and both pontifical approval and the approval of several far-seeing bishops cleared the way for institutes of sisters. In 1900 Leo XIII, in Conditae a Christo, anticipated what was an evidently necessary change in church legislation~ He opened to religious groups with decrees of praise the formal right of cen-tralization under a superior general with real, personal authority throughout the institute. This recognized sisters in institutes ded-icated to works of the apostolate as re!igious in their own right: a third kind of entity with those conforming to Circa Pastorali's and with th~ exempt clerical orders. The recognition was' welcome, but it could not of itself erase the long experience of ambiguity, which was the only one that most institutes of sisters knew at first hand. Authority and gov-ernment were the issues on which the matter of recognition was solved, and both were associated with the image of the local bishop. Leo XIII followed up Conditae a Cbristo in 1901 with a set of norms which were a blueprint for the future Code of Canon Law (1917). The sisters updated their constitutions in the light of .,both documents; and, perhaps because in terms of religious life the autonomous government of institutes of sisters as a reality canon-ic~ lly recognized and supported was something relatively new, both a.uthority and government structures loomed large in the revisions. Great attention was given to new structures, especially those of provinces and general chapters; roles were spelled out in considerable detail. Time would bring out what this implied and how it would work out in practice. Of the three elements leader-ship, authority, and government, attention concentrated on the last two, which were concrete and could be legislated, even though the previous image many institutes had of them did not necessarily March-April 1993 175 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government reflect their founding charism, but was colored by the rightly hierarchical character of the authority of the local bishop. Leadership was either taken for granted or channeled into apos-tolic enterprises. These sociological traits be~zame even more marked as the pressures of works and of professionalism came to bear on institutes in the mid 1950s. The Situation after Vatican II Less than fifty years after the Code of 1917 came the mandate of the Second Vatican Council to renew religious life according to the criteria of the gospel, the founding charism, and the signs of the times and to revise constitutions and directories in accord with this renewal. To make sure that the renewal actuaily took place, every institute was to celebrate a special general chapter within a period of two or three years. The chapter had excep-tional authority for this one occasion and was to be prepared with the widest possible involvement of all members of the institute. In the case of sisters dedicated to works of the apostolate, the timing of the conciliar mandate was critical. It came at a histor-ically ripe moment. The educational movement of the 1950s, the communications explosion of the 1960s, the influence of the human sciences, the authority crisis, and the development of fem-inism were only some of the elements which affected the way in which sisters tried to reexamine totally a life which they had taken very much for granted. They worked under pressure of time, with no precedent, technically unprepared, but with very much good-will. Inevitably, the sisters went first for adaptations: concrete changes which could be seen to be done and where change was clearly necessary. These involved structures and processes, plan-ning, participation, the Vatican Council's principles of subsidiar-ity and coresponsibility, the insdtute's style of life, and a review of apostolic works and resources. As sisters came to grips with these things, new leaders of a charismatic or natural kind--"born lead-ers"-- began to emerge. Their competence might be a particular professional field or an ability to communicate or the capacity to articulate well a personal vision for the future of the institute or a good grasp of dynamics. Whatever their gift, these leaders often came to the fore at the expense of leadership based on authority and experience of government. The membership of general chap- 176 Review for Religious ters from 1967 onwards was of a different composition from those which went before, and the influences on government and author-ity were consequently different. There was less experience of gov-ernment and more creativity; less hard information and more "dreaming" in the positive sense; less his-tory and more sociology; less theology and more impact from the human sci-ences. It all needed to be balanced out if it was to produce good religious govern-ment. A time of struggle, confusion, and emotion, however, is not the best time for balancing, and the difficult 1970s and early 1980s did not allow time to evaluate objectively what was happening. Nor was it possible to have the distance necessary for objectivity. The individualism of the period produced leaders in plenty, but not a similar number of sisters willing to accept responsibility. At the same time, various forms and degrees of resistance to authority made religious government very difficult. Expectations were not clear, and it was far easier to raise questions than to find constructive responses. All the while, people were aware that the overall num-bers of sisters were declining, that departures were frequent, that needs were multiplying and not being met, and that religious life was a microcosm of a church and world which were also in flux and seeking their way. In all this how did leadership, authority, and government fare? They were much-discussed topics in renewal, and it is in the con-text of renewal that we have to see them. Renewal involves inter-nal change. It causes us to interiorize and make our own--here and now, as individuals and as communities--the teaching of Jesus as it is lived in accordance with the charism of our religious insti-tute. Renewal affects beliefs, relationships, values, commitment, attitudes, and zeal. It determines how we live and serve, and it involves a conversion that is corporate as well as personal. Being basically interior and spiritual, renewal cannot be brought about simply by legislation. It needs the example and personal influ-ence of leadership, which i~ of its nature an agent of internal change. But leadership in religious renewal has to be enabling, Being basically interior and spiritual, renewal needs the example and personal influence of leadership, which is of its nature an agent of internal change. Marcb-April 1993 177 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government helping sisters renew themselves and their institute by consis-tently proposing the gospel goal and ideal and by encouraging involvement, conviction, and commitment. Such enabling lead-ership is increasingly seen as necessary today. It is not in excess supply, for it requires an unusual blend of Christlike poverty of heart and inner freedom and at the same time strength, empa-thy, and clarity. It is ~ charism and, as such, cannot be conferred ex officio or be legislated as a predictable and controllable part of government. Yet without it even the most clear-cut exercise of legitimate authority does not succeed in changing fundamental attitudes and values, whatever it may do to outward forms. The very fact that leadership is neither predictable nor con-trollable from the point of view of legislation means that it needs a balance which can be predicted, controlled, and legislated. The balance is authority. In the years after the Second Vatican Council, the balance afforded by religious authority was significantly down-played, largely as reaction to the authoritarianism in the precon-ciliar years and also because of the trend towards greater participation. Pa~'ticipation, however, does not remove the need for authority, and authoritarianism is an abuse which can be reme-died without touching the principle o.f authority itself. If no chan-rlels of legitimate authority are provided, one of two things seems to happen: either (1) the group crumbles from within because there is no commonly acknowle.dged center, no one has respon-sibility at the corporate level, and each sister has to go her own way, interpreting her religious life to the best of her ability; or (2) some sister emerges as a leader without religious authority, either by fo.rce of con.viction or natural gifts or charism or plain per-sonal aggressiveness. In either case the important value of re!igious obedience gets lost. Yet it is through religious obedience that we understand religious authority, and it is the two of them together that create the unique relationship in which a properly autho-rized leader can enable sisters to grow, not in passivity and not in external adaptation only, but in an active collaboration which make~ for joy and greater fullness of life. Religious government, therefore, needs both leaders.hip and authority and needs them together. Authority wi'thout leadership can become an insecure and heavy-handed exercise of power. Leadership without authority can lack sound direction, responsi-bi! ity, and accountability," making for disturbance rather than for peaceful growth in the Lord. Structures of government somehow 178 Review for Religious have to harmonize the two. Authority is usually provided in struc-tures at general, provincial, and local levels that maintain personal authority balanced by councils, chapters, and assemblies according to particular traditions, and that indicate an unambiguous line of accountability. Leadership, which cannot be legislated so directly, is implied in statements about the charism, spirit, and vision of the institute, in the qualities required in sisters exercising author-ity, and in the details of responsibilities and job descriptions. Moreover, it has been characteristic of the structures of religious government that authority is not exercised in isolation, nor should it be exercised in a way that creates a gap between those exercis-ing authority and those accepting it. This last point is a matter of style rather than of structure and is as much a challenge for teams and groups, even when the respective responsibilities and rela-tions are well spelled out, as it is for individuals. The revision of constitutions has led to some solid rethinking in the whole area of leadership, authority, and government. As we have seen, the theme goes far back in the history of religious life, and the strands intertwine inextricably, like differently colored ply in a length of wool making a single thread. Sisters today are certainly clearer on the issues than they were at the turn of the 1970s. All the same, we are never free from the responsibility of asking ourselves: (I) Has the basic function of leadership, author-ity, and government in religious life changed? If it has, why? And to what? (2) Do our structures correspond to their purpose and function? Now I would like to share with you what some samples of recently revised and approved constitutions from different parts of the world have to say to us about leadership, authority, and government in religious life today. In the light of these concrete statements, I will afterwards pick up again the two questions I have just raised. Sampling Some Revised Constitutions During my period of service at the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), about 1500 revised constitutions received their decrees of approval, and there have been a few more since then. Among this overwhelming amount of material, my only option was to take a sampling. I decided on five criteria of choice. March-April 1993 179 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government 1. My first criterion was to restrict myself to constitutions presented in English. There are more than enough of these to give a range of thought and experience, and I have the advantage of knowing them well and of having worked with many of the sisters who produced them. 2. My second criterion was to cover the different spiritual traditions in religious families, since these affect concepts and structures of government. I took sisters' constitutions deriving from the inspiration of the classic founders Alphonsus, Augustine, Benedict, Dominic, Francis, Ignatius, and Paul of the Cross. I also took some from the women's congregations that have a com-mon source of spirituality: Ursulines, Sisters of St. Joseph, Sisters of the Presentation, Sisters of Mercy, Sisters of Charity, Sisters of the Incarnate Word. I sampled as a further category congrega-tions with a strong and clear individual charism that are not notably indebted either to one of the major religious families of men or to other groups of sisters. 3. My third criterion was to cover a wide range of cultures, since these are important in the expression of values and princi-ples. The English-speaking world is notoriously extensive, and also some institutes present their texts in English either because this is an acceptable second language or because their principal growing points are in English-speaking areas outside their coun-try of origin. I ended up with constitutions from Australia, Austria, Belgium, Canada, England, France, Holland, India, Ireland, Malta, New Zealand, the Philippines, Rome, South Africa, and the United States of America. 4. A fourth criterion was to include a few constitutions of men religious by way of comparison. 5. Lastly, I included a random sampling of the remaining texts to a total of sixty constitutions. Fifty-five are by sisters and five by men religious: two clerical institutes and three of brothers. My observations are based on these sixty texts. Initial Impressions As one would expect of approved constitutions, on the subject of leadership, authority, and government, all the texts are canon-ically accurate inasmuch as they all harmonize with the present law of the church and with the values, principles, and basic structures deriving from their own previously approved founding charisms. 180 Review for Religious Yet no two are alike, and when I speak of a certain degree of com-monality I am not referring to common material or even to depen-dence on a common Code, but to a certain convergence of values and thinking across texts worked out independently and expressed with a great deal of diversity. Convergence. The highest degree of convergence is in the impor.tance attached to authority in regard to both government and leadership. In almost every case, whether the actual words are used or not, there is the idea that authority is to be exercised in government by sisters with qualities of leadership. The three elements go together, and it is authority that links the other two. There is a high degree of convergence also on the source of reli-gious authority being ultimately God himself and on the spirit of service which marks its exercise. Jesus Christ, whether as shep-herd, servant, son, or savior, is the model for the kind of exer-cise of authority in leadership that should characterize religious government. This spiritual level is usually clear and well expressed with a direct application to unity and mission. Areas of Diversity. The convergences are not bland, because there is no uniformity in the concrete provisions that express the converging values and principles. Each institute has not only its own founding gift, but also its own living tradition and experience, its own "now," and its own vision of the future. So, for example, even institutes which have the Rule of St. Augustine or that of the Franciscan Third Order Regular or the Constitutions of St. Ignatius as part of their proper law will have their own ways of incorporating these in concrete enactments. A good deal can be inferred, therefore, from the way in which the principles of government are actually spelled out. There are nuances about authority, leadership, and government to be found in the job descriptions given for moderators at the different lev-els, in the qualities and priorities looked for in those who will be responsible for government, in provisions for a particular style of operation, or in the way that responsibility and accountability are handled. Relationships and structures are the other areas with rich implications. The way in which a text expresses the com-bined responsibility of the membership and the various sisters in authority for the well-being of the institute is also instructive. So are the relations and interaction of moderators and councils and of both with chapters. Something can be learned from the way that the material on March-April 1993 181 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government authority and government is organized and presented. Some con-stitutions begin with people, some with types of norm; some begin with the whole entity of the institute as the body expressing the corporate charism and recognized as such by the church, some with the rights and responsibilities of the individual sister. Most start at the general level, since this avoids having to repeat and anticipate, but some begin with the local level. Perhaps the most revealing thing is terminology. If we raised our eyebrows in 1983 over the Code's use of"moderator," it was only because we had not yet realized our own creativity in find-ing names for those who were once uniformly referred to as supe-riors and for the sisters who work immediately with them. All the constitutions I studied were approved between September 1982 and May 1991. In them I met superiors, abbesses, prioresses, directors, facilitators, coordinators, sisters-in-charge, guardians, custodians, mothers, moderators, ministers, and presidents. These are helped and advised by councils, cabinets, government groups, boards, teams, and assistants and are accountable to assemblies, senates, and chapters. When the substance of all these is actually spelled out in terms of purpose, function, authority, and account-ability, there may not be any great difference at present between one reality and another. I have a strong sense, however, of dif-ference in climate and general approach between sisters who are superiors with a council responsible to a general chapter and sis-ters who are presidents with a cabinet responsible to a senate. What is denoted is similar, but the connotations are different, and it remains to be seen where that will take us. Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government in the Texts First of all, let me say that the three concepts, though they are present in each of the sixty texts, are not always specifically named. Neither do they receive equal emphasis. Authority gets by far the most attention, even in the two constitutions where the writers did not use the word itself. Government also gets pretty full treat-ment, especially in the abstract, and texts which reflect some reluctance to say that a moderator governs will spell out for her a number of responsibilities which are clearly those of govern-ment. Leadership is stressed much less. The word rarely occurs except in phrases such as "the general moderator is the leader of the congregation" or "the sister chosen as the general moderator 182 Review for Religious should have qualities of leadership." Leadership in its ordinary sense, however, is very often implied, and the spiritual role of leadership is clear. Religious Government and Authority. Statements about gov-ernment alone are usually clear and often pithy. They tend to ~pecify purpose: "Government in the eongregation provides structures and offices that facilitate our common life and ministry by ordering relat!onsh'ips and designating the functions of the members" (U.S.A.). "Governance is the means through which the resources of the congregation are unified, directed, and integrated" (U.S.A.). More subjec-tively descriptive but still purposeful is a' statement such as this: "Government is an experience in relationships, in deci-sion making, and in communication. Through itwe strive together to seek and do God's will" (Rome). From England comes the observation, that government is par.t of any organized society and that, in the case of rel!gious, it maintains the inspiration, nature, and purpose of an institute as living reali-ties. Most of the provision for government follows statements on authority which place its source in God o1: in Jesus Christ and which distinguish it from other kinds of personal power: :'Christ's authority given him by the Father was clearly .distinct in its exer-cise from the authority of the rulers of this world who lord it over their subjects," says an Irish text. "Christ expressed his authority in loving service: to heal, to forgive, to give life, to send in mis-sion." Some texts underline the ecclesial dimension: "Authority is given by God to the church, and it is from the church that the congregation receives its recognition as a religious institute and therefore a share in the authority of Christ" (England). "Authority in our institute is of an ecclesial nature and should reflect the self-g!ving of our divine master" (Philippines). "God is the source of all authority, but in working out his plan he asks for our coop-eration" (England). Some constitutions refer authority directly I have a strong sense, however, of difference in climate and general approach between sisters who are superiors with a council responsible to a general chapter and sisters who are presidents with a cabinet responsible to a senate. March-April 1993 183 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government The model of religious authority is, without exception, Jesus Christ. to superiors and chapters, but at least one broadens it to this: "From Jesus, proclaimed in the gospel, the authority of the . . . congregation, mediated and affirmed through the church, resides in the communion of its members according to their respective roles" (U.S.A.). The model of religious authority is, without exception, Jesus Christ, "the master who made himself servant in order that those he served might share his life and mission and that they in their turn might minister to others" (England). "Evangelical author-ity," says a congregation based in Rome, "is service which reflects the humility and self-giving of Jesus." Another one says: "Authority is founded on Christ, who received it from the Father and who came as one who serves. The example and teaching of Christ inspire sisters in positions of authority and all of us to serve as he did" (Rome). From Austria comes this statement: "In a religious con-gregation, the only model of authority is Jesus." The same arti-cle goes on to say, "Being a Marian congregation, all authority should reflect the gentleness and motherliness of our blessed Mother." This unanimously affirmed source and model determines to a great extent what the constitutions have to say about the nature of religious authority, what it requires, what it extends to, and how it is exercised. The question "What is it?" is variously answered: "It is a service meant to help the sisters discern and accomplish God's will" (U.S.A.). "It is a ministry of service which has as its object the fostering of unity in our diversity and the promotion of our mission in the life and work of the church" (England). "It helps us incarnate the vision of our founder in our time and to go forward together in the same spirit towards the same end" (Canada). Unity, mission, identity, and the discerning of God's will recur constantly as themes of response to the ques-tion "What is religious authority?" or "What is it all about?" It is interesting that the attempts to define authority as principle, which tied some of the renewal chapters in knots in the late 1960s, have been abandoned in the approved constitutions. There is no dictionary definition but rather a description, or an inference from needs and consequences, which is concrete rather' than the- 184 Reviev~ for Religions oretical. It expresses a basic principle, however, and links it with government, charisms, obedience, and leadership. This principle is nearly always taken from the standpoint of faith. What is required for the exercise of religious authority is expressed in terms of values, attitudes, qualities, and relation-ships. Sisters exercising authority do so for the sake of unity, wit-ness, effective corporate service, the growth of their sisters towards the fullness of Christ, and the building of the kingdom of God (Belgium, France, South Africa, U.S.A.). They are asked to be unifiers, animators, discerners, listeners (England, Holland, Ireland). The qualities looked for in a good superior at whatever level are instructive. In these texts there is much less of the utopi-anism that characterized the early 1970s and scared away many a good potential superior by requiring a combination of qualities which an archangel would have had a hard time meeting. The requirements now are geared to a more realistic perception. "A sis-ter who exemplifies the spirit and life of our congregation" (India) is a requirement which recurs fairly often and which applies to religious Pope Paul VI's observation that the people of our time respond better to example than to theory. "A woman of prayer and faith, close to God in her personal life" is also often mentioned. Then come the personality traits: compassion, courage, vision, love for the institute and for the sis-ters, practical intelligence; then the qualities that relate specifically to the exercise of authority: perceptiveness, good judgment, patience, balance, firmness, experience of life, and the capacity to listen, to collaborate, and to decide. It is noticeable that recently approved constitutions take it for granted that the qualities of those exercising authority need to be complemented and com-pleted by those of their immediate collaborators and by the sisters at large. Hence the importance of relationships, not only in the sense of personal relations--as, for example, between a superior and her councilors or with her sisters--but also in the deeper sense of the necessary interrelation of authority and obedience for the common project, or in "the sense that all the sisters in their various ways are responsible for the good of the institute. "There can be no community among us," says one text, "unless our com-mon life and mission are governed by deliberations and decisions that draw us all towards a u.nity of thought, sentiment, and action. To those deliberations and decisions we are all obligated as reli-gious pledged to obedience--both to contribute and to respond" March-April 1993 185 Linscott ¯ Leader'sbip; Authority, and Religious Government (U.S.A.). A text from England sees sisters serving in authority as "challenging each sister to fidelity in our shared spirit and charism so that our way of prayiiag, living, and working together may be fruitful for burselves and for others." This kind of statement car-ries religious authority beyond the juridical limits of the consti-tfitions and church law according to which it is exercised and into the realm of th~ basic values of religious life for which it is given. Principies foi" the exercise of religious ~iuthority receive more attention in recently approved ,constitutions than in preceding texts, where they tended to be taken for granted. As early as 1966, Ecdesiae Sanctae provided for "an ample and free consultatiofi of all [the religious in an institute]" in the preparation of the special general chapter of renewal (ES §4), and this basic concept of par- ~igipation echoes in practically every text. One document puts it like this: "Since the Holy Spirit works in all, we encourage the active pai:dcipation of each in the decision-making process within the community and the congregation. Our acceptance of respon-sibility for implementing the decisions made is a source of unity among us" (U.S.A.). Participation is seeh as a source of mutual support (India) and is meant to further the aims and goals of the congregation (U.S.A.). More specific than participation as a gen-eral principle is participative government which, according to one text, "includes these elements fundamental to government struc-tures: sl~ared responsibility, subsidiarity, accountability" (U.S.A.). These last three principles, together with the need for commu-nication, are mentioned in practically all tiae constitutions stud-ied and directly reflect the influence of Vatican II. The American text just quoted says that shared responsibility, subsidiarity, and ac6ountability are fundamental to government structures. In one' way, such structures exist to make religiofis authority effective: They channel authority and locate it, limit it, and focus it. They are, therefore, very specific to each institute, reflecting as they do its charism and traditibns, it~ circumstances and its cultures. The connection.wii:h charism is usually evident. Congregations whose founding gift requires a stable way of life in the sense of a fair amount of residential stability and a good deal of authority at the local level will have structures that allow for decentralization and immediate participation. Congregations whose founding gift requires apostolic mobility will have more centralized general structures if things are to work well, and par-ticipation in matters beyond the local level will often be limited i 86 Review for Religious to elected representatives. For example, three congregations in the Benedictine tradition from three different continents all have structures which move solidly from the individual sister to cor-porate unity. Two institutes strongly in the Ignatian tradition begin with the need for someone "who holds the charge of the entire body of the society and whose duty is the good government, preser-vation, and development of the whole body" (Ireland). Here the starting point is the superior general. Most institutes lie on an arc somewhere between these two. The fact is that structures, all of which are approved as adequate in their provisions for government, can be as varied as the charisms they reflect. Circumstances diversify them still further, for there are bound to be dif-ferences in structures of government between an institute many of whose sis-ters are centered in one house Structures, all of which are approved as adequate in their provisions for government, can be as varied as the charisms they reflect. (England), an institute whose sisters are in small houses near to each other (Belgium), and an institute whose members are widely scattered across vast areas in the prairies of the United States or the outback of Australia. Cultures, too, certainly affect structures and in particular the way in which structures are regarded. Institutes of the same reli-gious family and with a good deal of common tradition keep adapting their structures differently according as they are in Australia, Canada, Rome, or the United States. The European texts lay stress on the persons who exercise authority, their qual-ities, responsibilities, soundness of judgment, relation to others, accountability. There is an underlying element of trust and need to support, and an implication that, given the right persons, things cannot go too far wrong even if the structures themselves are less than perfect. This, however, is not an excuse for poor structures. The structural provisions are generally good. The Indian texts have greater structural detail, but still a considerable stress on the person. Some of the American texts, however, are very strong on structure, almost as if good structure of government could protect an institute from any kind of abuse of power. This is by no means a universal feature of texts from. the United States, but March-April 1993 187 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government where it occurs the structures are given in great detail, there is generally a system of checks and balances, a high proportion of the whole text is devoted to government, and there is not very much about the kind of sister looked for to exercise authority. In an extreme case, there is no more than the bare juridical require-ments. Again, between the two extremes, there is a wide range across the sixty texts. Each of them has been approved in its own right. The only point I make here is that, beyond the influence of charism and of apostolic circumstances, governmental structures for the exercise of religious authority are affected to some extent by culture. This has its own repercussion, of course, in interna-tional congregations. Religious Authority and Leadership. That the duty of leading is an aspect of government and that religious authority is given for this purpose is clear in most of the constitutions. "Those who hold authority in the institute have the right and responsibility to lead it in fidelity to its spirit and mission," says a text from Australia. There are also many references to general and local superiors being leaders of the whole institute or of the local com-munity respectively. What this leadership consists in emerges from the qualities looked for in a superior: "A woman of faith, discretion, and courage, she cultivates a spirit of availability and openness. A woman of compassion and understanding, she inspires, unifies, directs. A woman of fidelity, she fosters a response to the church and the world in accord with our charism. She is responsible for creating an atmosphere conducive to the spiri-tual, intellectual, and affective growth of each member, and she should show more concern for the Holy Spirit and for persons than for structures as such and for the letter of the law" (U.S.A.). This pastoral approach reappears in very many texts. Superiors lead by what they are and what they do: "She is steward of our way of life., of the heritage and mission of the congregation and of the gifts of each sister . She leads by her example, teaching, and decisions . . . and she exercises her authority with pastoral con-cern" (Australia). If the superior is expected to have leadership qualities, they are of a Christlike kind and facilitate her free and simple exercise of authority. One constitutional text notes that, when this is the case, the leadership qualities in the sisters are also fostered. "The right exercise of authority encourages each sister to become that per-son whom the Father called in Christ. The superior is confident 188 Review for Religious that the Spirit who creates diversity is able by his loving influ-ence to preserve union of mind and heart among the sisters. In this encouraging atmosphere, the graces of our baptism and religious vocation give rise to a number of leadership qualities among the sisters, all contributing to the vitality of community and the ful-fillment of our mission in the church" (U.S.A.). The role of authority in its pas-toral leading then becomes the encourage-ment and harmonizing of the leadership gifts in the community. This very fact points out the distinc-tion between the authority to lead that is vested in one person with assistance from others and the leadership gifts that can be in any community member. The two are not the same and are usually distinguished when they appear in constitutions. For example, we have from Australia: "The superior exercises her authority according to the spirit and laws of our congregation. In giving leadership, she encourages the participation of all the members," and from the United States: "The community min-ister is the canonical leader and unifier of the congregation. She has authority and responsibility for spiritual and apostolic lead-ership." If the kind of leadership expected of sisters in authority is implied in the qualities desired for eligibility, the direction of that leadership is usually implicit in their functions. At the general level, a superior "unifies in charity, urges fidelity to the gospel and to the constitutions; calls individuals and groups to core-sponsibility and account; keeps abreast of movements in the church and in society; enunciates goals and priorities as a com-munity in mission; focuses the corporate nature of our life and mission; and serves in various representative and governmental capacities" (U.S.A.). At the local level she serves the action of the Holy Spirit who is forming the community from within into a single body for the building of the kingdom (Canada). In texts from Malta, India, the Philippines, and New Zealand, too, this is spelled out in terms of animation, administration, and forma-tion. The role of authority in its pastoral leading then becomes the encouragement and harmonizing of the leadership gifts in the community. March-April 1993 189 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Relig4ous Government The ideal would seem to be that a sister who exercises reli-gious authority is a leader and that her leadership qualities are evident in her governing as she encourages and draws on the gifts of her sisters, especially those who more immediately share responsibility with her, for the well-being of the community. Leadership and Government. For the sake of completeness, there should be a word about what the constitutions give us on leadership and government. It is a short word, because they say very little on the point directly. For the constitutions, leadership is a quality desirable in sisters exercising authority, and govern-ment is the concrete process by which authority is exercised to unify and animate the institute so as to attain its goal. The texts take both leadership and government in relation to authority, not in relation to each other. We are obliged, so to speak, to go via authority if we want to link the other two. This is probably an inevitable state of affairs, for constitutions are spiritual juridical documents which give principles and norms for what can be leg-islated. Both authority and government are patient of legislation; leadership is not. So it is normal that, while several texts hope for leadership as a quality in those vested with authority to gov-ern, nobody assumes that it is a quality conferred by the fact of having that authority. This in itself is a realistic step forward. Conclusion How can we summarize all this? The new elements that mark the current phase of religious government in contrast to those which preceded it seem to be: ¯ a renewed sense of the spiritual dimension and of the kind of responsibility which it involves; ¯ a sharp awareness of the rediscovered founding charism; the concept of authority as service reflecting the Christ who came not to be served but to serve; ¯ the idea of complementing necessary gifts; openness to a wide participation of the sisters in general according to their roles and experience, continuing the thrust of the Second Vatican Council on the dignity of each person and expressing the belief that the Holy Spirit can work through each one for the good of the whole; ¯ the adoption of responsibility, subsidiarity, and account-ability as basic principles; ¯ the recognition by many that religious government is inseparably linked with the founding charism and with 190 Review for Religious the vow of obedience and so has a dimension of faith and of relation to the church that distinguishes it ultimately from administration, organization, management, or indeed any other form of government. At the same time, pro-cesses of consensus and discernment, variously under-stood, have been widely adopted. The evolution of the understanding and praxis of leadership, authority, and government in religious life is continuous. It is not in itself an experiment which can be tried out for a certain num-ber of years and then be confirmed, modified, or dropped, although individual structures expressing it can be handled in this way. In itself the evolutitn is essential and consistent. It is, there-fore, from the viewpoint of the present moment in an evolving continuum that we can pick up the two questions we raised some pages back. Has the basic function of leadership, authority, and government in religious life changed? If it has, why? Ana to what? We have seen that the goals and values for which leadership, authority, and gov-ernment exist in religious iife go far back in history, emerging from the following of Christ in radic~il gospel living as it was first understood bythe desert fathers and mothers and the early mqnks. From at least the time of St. Benedict, these goals and values have included the promotion of individual and community growth towards the full maturity of Christ; th~ fostering of unity, peace, and mission at the service of the church; the encouragement of fidelity; the ensuring of forrhation; the provision of the necessi-ties for consecrated life, all in accord with the particular found-ing charism of the institute. It is evident from the survey of the sixty recently approved constitutions that these basic goals and values remain constant. The stated purpose and function of gov-ernment is always that the institute a~hieve the goal for which it exists in the church: a specific pu.blic witness to Christ and his gospel in unity, prayer, and growth in love and in the service of mission. As regards these purposes, there is little change. What has changed, from the evidence of quite a few texts, is something which is not directly within the competence of con-stitutions: the kind and extent of responsibility actually involved in undertaking the service of government today. Whereas, even into the 19th century, religious government was (and in principle still is) primarily a spiritual and ecclesial matter, for many insti-tutes of sisters today there are accretions which create a further and different kind of responsibility. A superior general who has March-April 1993 191 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government been elected to see to the growth and mission of her sisters in service to the sick with Christ the healer may find herself by that very fact fostering that growth as president of a multimillion-dol-lar hospital corporation. The superior of an institute with an apos-tolate of education may well be ex officio a member of the boards of various colleges and universities. She will almost inevitably find herself ultimately responsible for the administration of homes for the aged sisters and for dealing with financial reports. The spread of an institute and the desire for hands-on government may call for wide travel, a knowledge of languages, and the capac-ity for inculturation. Both public relations and communication, with all their current technicalities, will claim attention. Clearly, responsibilities have to be delegated. However, under this kind of pressure, things may get treated from the point of view of the accretions instead of the essential. This substitutes administra-tion for religious government. It tends to depersonalize, to use authority for efficiency only, without the spiritual quality which should animate the government of religious. The accretions, which are many and demanding and which show no sign of dimin-ishing of their own accord, are the proper field for delegation and group work. To elect superiors and councilors or tdam mem-bers in view of the accretions instead of the capacity to serve the basic goals and values of the institute would be to build in a dis-tortion. Somehow, the different responsibilities have to be dis-tinguished and provided for in their own right. Do our structures com'espond to their purpose and function? This is a question that each institute has to answer for itself, because each one has its unique charism that determines the purpose, function, and structures of its government. Certain circumstances, however, have influenced structures and government in many institutes of sisters dedicated to works of the apostolate; there are reflections of them in the constitutions studied. It may be worth noting them, for they could still clog the wheels in some institutes. Among such circumstances would be: ¯ an institute's existence before canonical recognition when there was not a corpus of canons a.dapted to the needs of sisters and when, in consequence, individual traditions of government could range from the very firm to the very loose according to personalities and to the local circum-stahces-- such precanonical traditions may well have an influence still; ¯ the high degree of uniformity in provisions after 1917; 192 Review for Religion, s ¯ the tendency to authoritarianism and the stress on author-ity of status between the Code of 1917 and the renewal initiated hy Vatican II; ¯ the rapid change in structures and praxis that followed the special general chapters at the end of the 1960s; ¯ the impact of social, political, and psychological change brought about by major movements over the past thirty years: peace and justice, solidarity with the poor, femi-nism, rapid communication, even the recent collapse of communism; ¯ internal tensions regarding identity vis-a-vis the laity, lifestyle, mission, place in the church, raison d'etre; ¯ some confusion of the functions of consultation, consen-sus, and discernment with the functions proper to gov-ernment. SCRIS had a point in the early 1970s when it held that lead-ership and religious authority are not the same thing and that their respective relations to government are different. Time has brought out, however, that religious government does not impose a choice between the two. On the contrary, both are needed, although in different ways. Good religious government reflects not only the word of the gospel, but the Word himself, who leads as pastor and as servant precisely because he so evidently has authority. Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is not extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, or institutional promotion of for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be considered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. March-April 1993 193 JANICE McLAUGHLIN The Meaning of Evangelization Today evangelizing The Shona people of Africa have many names for God. My favorite is "Chipindikure"--The One Who Turns Things Upside Down. Chipindikure comes from the root word kupinduka, which means transformation or revolu-tion. This is what God is doing in the life of each of us and in our world. And this, I think, is what evangelization is all about; letting God's message--which is the most revolu-tionary message the world has ever known--letting that message transform us, turn us upside down, so that we in turn may transform society. Evangelization, then, is about change and about choice. I can say no to change. I can choose to stay in my little rut and refuse to be shaken up and turned upside down. But God does not give up that easily. Like St. Paul, God knocks us off our horse over and over again until we get the message. We have all had these moments of insight in our lives, these turning points, which open us to n~w possibilities. Let us look at some examples of what I mean from my experience--after which I hope you will look at examples from your own experience. After I entered Maryknoll in 1961, I became involved in the civil-rights movement and the antiwar movement. Janice McLaughlin MM spent 22 years in Africa. She recently completed her doctoral dissertation on "The Catholic Church and Zimbabwe's War of Liberation 1972-1980" at the University of Zimbabwe. She may be addressed at Community Office; Maryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, New York 10545. 194 Review 3~br Religious I also worked with the "war on poverty" program in the small town of Ossining, New York, near Maryknoll. But I think that my eyes were really opened for the first time when I went to East Africa in 1969. Learning another language and living in another culture is perhaps a shortcut to transformation. It forced me to give up my old way of looking at things--my Pittsburgh, St. Lawrence O'Toole Parish, McLaughlin, United States way of looking at life, at God, at the world. It is a shock to learn that you do not have all the answers and that you are not even asking the right questions. The wonderful people of Kenya, and later the people of Zimbabwe and Mozambique, taught me that people are more important than things; that being is more important than doing; that God and relationships are at the heart of everything. In 1977 I went from Kenya to Zimbabwe, which was Southern Rhodesia at that time, and worked as the press secre-tary for the Justice and Peace Commission. I was detained and then deported for telling the truth about the war that was taking place there. Racial segregation and discrimination were govern-ment policy, as they had once been here in the United States. I saw that the war of liberation was an Exodus experience for the African people as they journeyed from slavery to freedom. I came to realize that this iourney goes on in each of our lives as we seek to free ourselves from whatever enslaves us. For some peo-ple it is drugs or alcohol or a history of physical or sexual abuse. For us religious it is often our fears, our inflexibility, and our selfishness. Later I worked with refugees from the war and saw that we are all refugees on a journey through life to our true home. The refugees showed me that, the less we carry on the journey, the easier it will be to reach our destination. In fact, life is a process of stripping us of all we cherish until God is all and everything for us. This is the mystery of death and resurrection which is at the heart of our faith--dying to self so that we may live in Christ. Thus refugees and displaced persons, political prisoners and freedom fighters, and the courageous men, women, and children of Africa who never give up hoping in the midst of so much destruction and death have evangelized me and have shown me that evangelization is incarnational and prophetic and is rooted in prayer. March-April 1993 195 McLaugblin. Evangelization Evangelization Is Incarnational Valentine, one of my students at a school for freedom fight-ers in Maputo, Mozambique, helped me see how incarnation works today. He told me how he had joined the liberation strug-gle after his graduation. "I thought I was better than the others because I had finished high school," he confessed. "I thought that I would be made ~ commander. But I was treated like everyone else." He said that his clothes became torn, that he had no soap for bathing, and little food. He began to think that he had made a mistake and that life was better under colonialism. "Then in my downtrodden position," he said, "I learned the beauty of the revolution. I learned that my suffering was to help others. My life now is to serve the people." Valentine was turned upside down, from being a conceited, selfish youth to becoming a person for others. "From my down-trodden position, I learned. ," he said. This is how God teaches all of us. When we are down and out; when we have lost what is precious to us; when we do not have all the answers; when we feel useless, lost, and alone: God reaches out and touches our pain, our suffering, our loss, turning our little daily deaths into new life. "She who loses her life will find it," God has promised. The happiest moments of my life were the times when I had the least, when, like Valentine, I was downtrodden and suffering with and for others. The three weeks I spent in solitary confine-ment in a Rhodesian prison, for instance, I had few material pos-sessions: a prison uniform, a lumpy bed, and lousy food. But this hardly mattered because the other prisoners reached out to me and welcomed me in their midst. They sang freedom songs at night and smuggled notes to me during the day. They even sent me food when they learned that I liked their African diet. I felt part of something bigger than myself. I was suffering for a cause, and the pain and fear no longer mattered because I was not alone. I was with the oppressed people, and God was there with us in our prison cells. I had this same experience of solidarity and closeness to God in the refugee camps deep in the forests of Mozambique. There I was the one who was weak and powerless. I did not know how to survive in the forest, so the children became my caretakers and guides. They would keep me company to cheer me up; they would teach me their language and share with me any special treats like sugarcane or maputi (a kind of popcorn). They were ministering 196 Review for Religious to me. I did not have to produce or perform, but merely to be there with them in their exile from home. This incarnational approach from within is very different from the balcony approach, where we stand outside and above, pointing fingers at what is wrong and telling others to change. Too often church people, including us religious, stand on our bal-conies criticizing and throwing stones at the world instead of immersing ourselves in the pain and suffering of the poor and oppressed, as Christ did. This immersion enables us to see the world from a new perspective. It is what turns us upside down. Evangelization Is Prophetic When we have been changed, then we are ready to change the world together with the victims. I remember an African sis-ter in Zimbabwe, Sister Marie Theresa Paulino, who explained to me how she became involved in assisting the freedom fighters during the war of liberation. "I thought of Jesus carrying his cross," she told me. "Everyone stood on the sidelines and watched. Only one woman had courage and came forward to wipe his face with her veil. I decided that I could not stand on the sidelines and watch my people suffering, but like Veronica I must have courage and do something to help." She was a nurse. She would disguise herself as a peasant woman, tie her medical instruments around her waist, and walk long distances to mountain caves where she would treat freedom fighters who had been wounded. This was a very risky thing to do. She could have been arrested and even killed if caught by the government authorities. Who knows what the church authorities would have done if they had known of this single sister's act of courage to wipe the face of her suffering people? Each of us is called to have this kind of courage, to wipe the faces of suffering people: the homeless in our streets, the drug addicts, the AIDS patients, the gangs in our inner cities, the sin-gle mothers, the abused and abandoned children, the new immi-grants. I have discovered in the months that I have been back in the United States that there are endless problems here needing to be solved. In fact, it seems tp me that the people of the United States are much more needy than the people I have known in Africa; people in this country of excess and abundance are in dan-ger of losing their souls. Marcb-Atrril 1993 197 McLaugblin ¯ Evangelization Prophetic action is needed to turn the values of this country upside down. We need more than a new president or a new congress or a balanced budget, though these might help. We need more than family values, though these too might help. If we want to save this country, save this planet, and save ourselves, we must return to the radical message of Christ in the gospels. What would the world look like if we truly walked in the footsteps of Christ? Do you think we would turn back Haitians fleeing the poverty and violence in their country? Would we exonerate the police-men who beat up Rodney King? Would we doubt Anita Hill? Would we bomb Iraq or any other so-called enemy? Would defense be our largest industry? Would we fail to sign environ-mental treaties at the Earth Summit? Would we allow thousands of Africans to die of starvation? Would we walk by the homeless in our streets? Would we allow violence and sex to dominate our television and movie screens? Would we let money rule our lives and rob our souls? Someone must stand up and say that t.he emperor has no clothes. Emperors, whether in the church or in society, do not like being reminded of their nakedness, and so we can expect to be condemned and criticized. Do we expect that we his servants should not suffer as Christ, our master, has suffered all these things for our sakes? Let me tell you of a friend of mine in Zimbabwe, Father Michael Lapsley. He is an Anglican priest from New Zealand who has spend all of his adult life condemning the sin of apartheid in South Africa. He was deported from South Africa and from Lesotho. Then two years ago in Harare he opened a package that had come to him from South Africa. It was a letter bomb. It blew off both his hands and destroyed one of his eyes. When I went to see him in the hospital a few days after the bombing, he had two bandaged stumps where his hands had been and a gaping hole that had held his eye. If it had been me, I would rather have been dead. But Michael was cheerful, and he said, "The Boers took my hands and my eye, but they left me my most powerful weapon, my tongue. And with my tongue I will continue to denounce apartheid until the day I die." This is what it means to evangelize the world, to live as Christ did and in so doing to change the world. 198 Reviev; for Religious Evangelization Is Rooted in Prayer We cannot hope to lead such radical lives without the sup-port of prayer. Prayer will give us the courage to take risks, the wisdom to expose the lies of our society, and the strength to join the victims. My understanding of prayer, too, been changed by my expe-rience in Africa. The African leader and philosopher Leopold Senghor has said, "Faith here [in Africa] is as essential to the soul as is bi'ead, rice, or honey to the body. Africans' gift to humankind is their ability to.perceive the supernatural as something really natural--so to speak." Creation spirituality, then, is nothing new to the people of Africa. It is their cul-ture and their way of life. They do not dis-tinguish between the sacred and the secukir. God is perceived as being tru.ly present everywhere and in all things. So they respect other human beings as the temples of God, and they respect the earth and all its creatures as God's dwelling place. African spirituality is all-embracing; there is nothing outside its scope. During Zimbabwe's war of lib-eration, for instance, the traditional religious leaders set down rules of conduct for the freedom fighters. VChile these spiritual men and women who are prophets, healers, bringers of rain, and mediums between the living and the dead were not able to prevent the war, they were able to humanize it by forbidding the needless shedding of blood and the destruction of wildlife and vegetation. African religion thus played an important role in introducing spir-itual norms and values into the freedom struggle. A recent article about prayer from South Africa's Institute for Contextual Theology points out the surprising fact that Jesus had not been teaching his disciples how to pray. They had to ask him. The article explains that Jesus wanted his followers to experience prayer as a need rather than a duty, and notes that there is no commandment in the Bible which says, "Thou shalt pray." It goes on to explain that prayer is like eating and sleeping. Unless there is something wrong with us, we will all eventually feel the need for food and for sleep. The same is true of prayer. How we pray will vary with each person and with our situation. Prayer will give us the courage to take risks, the wisdom to expose the lies of our society, and the strength to join the victims. March-April 1993 199 McLaughlin ¯ Evangelization Africa has taught me to be still and listen to God speaking through all creation and through the people and events I encounter each day. It has taught me to take time for silent pr.ayer, as well as to join in religious celebrations of the people. I have learned to trust the action of God in my life and in other people, rather than trying to do everything myself. Conclusion Life, then, is a journey towards God and with God. Evangelization involves becoming aware of this presence of God in our lives and then sharing this knowledge with others. I believe that this awareness grows when we immerse ourselves in the real-ity of the poor, whether in Zimbabwe, New York, or New South Wales. Their suffering and their faith shatter our complacency, forcing us to question all our preconceptions and prejudices, turn-ing us upside down. We can either become cynical, hopeless, and bitter, or we can face our own powerlessness and grow in faith, hope, and trust in God. Steve Biko, the South African leader who was tortured and died in prison, once said that comfort and security are incom-patible with leadership. I would add that they are incompatible with religious life. We will rarely be turned upside down in the comfort and security of our middle-class convents, spending all our time looking inward at our own spiritual growth. When we come down from our balconies and go out to oth-ers, especially the outcasts and the most needy, we will come alive. It is prophetic just to take the poor seriously in this society where wealth, possessions, and power mean so much. I should add that as women we are also among the poor and the oppressed because we have so little power in our society and in our church. Making the voices of the poor heard in our churches, homes, and offices and in the corridors of power throughout this land can make a difference. I firmly believe that we religious women can turn this society upside down. Let us do it! 200 Review for Religious Questions for reflection and sharing: i. Reflect on some of the turning points in your own life. How were you turned upside down? 2. What do you think needs to be turned upside down in your present situation? 3. What do you think needs to be turned upside down in this society? 4. What action will you take to make at least one of these changes? A Daughter's Monologue with Her Mother You are my child now. Now, you are my child. You may raise your brows at my leaving, or close your eyes on approach, wanting more nearly to turn toward the wall, to shut out the world long since set aside; one you no longer speak to. I will make room for your mood; your darkness, delight. You are my child now; who shall I name you ? You are my child now. There's no wanting in you but ¯ merits my care. You can wear soft hair in brhiding or turned in a bun. Neither will burnish my love nor undo it. Rest quietly, then, macushla. You can't disappoint me. Just who you are is my best expectation. You are my child now; I am the mother. Ann Maureen Gallagher IHM March-April 1993 201 MARIO I. AGUILAR Broken African Pots and a Mission Spirituality MwisSionary work in Africa has for years been associated ith lonely and courageous missionaries, single indi-viduals or very small communities of religious and lay people who have preached the gospel on the African continent in very diffi-cult circumstances. While the former facts are true in some way, in this article I want to look at the particular experience of a group of religious women and men working in Garba Tulla, Kenya, and their own sense of achievement and failure. Although this case is a very localized one, it opens the way to another understanding of missionary spirituality and, I would say, missionary work. I kvill focus, not on missionary strategies--that would constitute mate-rial for missiological studies--but on African pottery. I believe it can help to illustrate a spirituality for mission. In this article I assert that spiritual fulfillment, failure, and possible despair in missionary work are directly related to our own expectations coming from our own sense of achievement and self-understanding. The particular goals and expectations that missionaries arrive with permeate their sense of fulfillment and failurein their missionary work. What one person considers to be success and fulfillment can seem to be failure and reason for despair to somebody else. For this reason I suggest that the African way of making pottery could help us discover God's pres- Mario I. Aguilar SVD has taught Scripture and religious studies in Kenya and anthropology at the University of Vienna. His present address is: School of Oriental and African Studies; Department of Anthropology; Thornhaugh St. Russell Square; London WC1H 0XG; England. 202 Revie~ for Religious ence in different cultures--something I would consider the final goal in missionary work and in our own search for a spirituality of mission. On the other hand, there is this about African pottery: it involves making, breaking, and remaking pots. It is a constant process, one which never ends. Garba Tulla Parish: A Case Study The parish of the Good Shepherd (Parokia Tissitu Dansa) of Garba Tulla is located in the Isiolo deanery of the diocese of Meru, Eastern Kenya. The parish as such was created in 1987, after years of being an outstation of the Isiolo parish and then a so-called Catholic mission. By most people it is still considered the Garba Tulla Catholic Mission. Located in a semidesert area and in the middle of Garba Tulla town, it has a very short history as a so-called missionary presence among th~ Boorana people of the area. From the late 1970s, priests from the Isiolo parish (120 kilo-meters away) had gone to Garba Tulla, mainly on weekends, in order to celebrate the Eucharist with the Catholics who worked in the area. It cannot be denied that their missionary presence was oriented towards the conversion of the Muslim Boorana towards Christianity and specifically towards the Catholic Church.' In 1985 one priest and two brothers established their resi-dence for the first time at the Catholic Mission in Garba Tulla, but my case study begins in 1986, when a group of religious sisters joined the men religious who had been working in the area. At that time the missionary personnel working in Garba Tulla started considering themselves a team, a mission team of religious rather than a number of individuals working in the area. In a deanery where most of the priests come from diocesan backgrounds, this missionary team of religious constituted a novelty. Regarding a missionary strategy, the team went through stages of understanding their presence and work in the area. During the first stage, 1986-1987, the team moved towards being a Christian presence among the people, i3ut with the spiritual goal of fulfill-ment through the conversion of Muslims to the gospel. Their sense of spiritual fulfillment in mission came from the fact of their presence there and from the hopeful possibility that some Muslims would eventually believe in the gospel. New enterprises and new expectations, especially for a team Marcb-~lt~il 1993 203 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Each one of the religious on the team felt that his or her spiritual fulfillment depended on the implementation of a particular model of mission. which had just arrived in the area, provided a time of search for strategies and for a religious spirituality that stressed God's dia-logue with his people, but also stressed the need people have for Christ as the ultimate revelation of God. That was expressed in the creation of many projects of development and in efforts to form a praying community among the team, because of the lack of Christians from the Boorana people of Garba Tulla themselves. The team comprised seven people, who came from seven different countries--a nat-ural richness, one would say. Nevertheless, it created a deep crisis of purpose, because of the different understandings of mission work present among members of the team. By 1987 the leader of the team was changed under difficult circumstances, and a search for a new purpose began once again. There was a new sense of searching for fulfillment after the damage caused by the team's fail-ures of communication and understanding had somehow been repaired. (I believe that those scars will never be healed completely.) The spiritual failure felt by the team was ¯ explained as part of the problem of having a team with individuals of different nationalities and therefore with different models of mission. There were ethnocentric tones to the problem as well; people failed to understand one another's attitudes. Nevertheless, I would say that, by itself, the variety of spiritualities present in the team caused enough internal tensions for a complete breakdown in communication and cooperation. Each one of the religious on the team felt at one point or another that his or her spiritual fulfillment depended on the implementa-tion of a particular model of mission. New attempts to unite the team around a particular model of mission work have in reality also failed, even as new leaders in the team have moved to a second stage, dialogue with the Muslim community, and a third stage, the strengthening of the parish. Those two attempts provided a complete change from the above-mentioned first stage, which was concerned with the actual con-version of the Muslim community towards Christianity. This case could sound like a very familiar story among reli- 204 Review for Religious gious, but to me it posed many questions regarding spiritual ful-fillment, acceptance, failure, and even despair in missionary work. The result of that time of tension was a new beginning, a new search. Years later the team is still searching for answers. Years later different nationalities are still trying to understand what went wrong with those religious at that time, and the scars are still present. As a member of the team which followed the 1987 crisis, I asked myself many times if what actually went wrong was con-nected, not to mission strategies, but rather to a very limited understanding of a spirituality for mission. That mission team ran out of their spiritual resources as religious because they failed to accept that personal fulfillment also requires failures and even despair at certain times of our lives. It is in this sense that I pro-pose that African pottery provides a model that fits our need for spiritual fulfillment and the presence of God in our lives. Success and Failure in an African Pot In 1992 I had the wonderful opportunity to sit surrounded by potters at a village of the Nkhoma mountains in Malawi. The potters were women who belong to the Chewa people. I was acquainted with the art of pottery in my home country, Chile, and also as a religious I had explored the possibility of prayer involving the use of clay and pottery, with very limited results. But now I felt the need to relate a spirituality for mission, based on my experience in Kenya, to the feelings and events of those days spent under the sun in the mountains of Malawi. Among the Chewa people, women produce pottery while men weave mats. A group of women sit in front of a house, surrounded by their children. Usually one woman has learned the techniques of pottery from another village and teaches the others. The clay is prepared by being pounded in a mortar so as to eliminate impu-rities. Pottery making begins when the woman takes a lump of clay and proceeds to pick out of it the hard little pieces that are still present and would cause problems as the clay is molded. The complete process is simple and at the same time elaborate; skill comes only with practice. The more pots you make, the more skilled you become. The clay is pounded with the palms of both hands till it becomes like a flat plate. Then it is slapped at the sides, till the March-April 1993 205 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots A broken pot is never thrown away; it becomes an important part of the process of making new pots. actual form of a vessel begins to appear. This is done with round movements of the hands, with the clay in the air. The shoulders give a certain rhythm to this hard process. A lot of strength is required to shape the clay, and what looks like easy work---and fun, too, in a way--is really hard physical work. The potter's hands become hard and dirty. (A skillful potter can make six or seven new pots in a morning's work.) Finally the pot begins to take shape, and what was a piece of clay looks like a new creation. The whole activity of pottery making is witnessed by a group of the village com-munity. Small girls try their luck at pot-tery making. They mold smaller pieces of clay into small pots, their own contribu-tion to village life and a particular com-munity activity. Less-skilled women who are still learning the potter's art are helped regularly by those who have more experi-ence and skill. The whole activity becomes a community activity, in which individu-als are not ashamed of being helped in their process of pottery making. Individual women are encouraged by others with the phrases "Press harder, . Push the clay up," "Make sure both of your hands are molding the clay," and so forth. There is a constant concern for each other. At the proper moment the new, shaped piece of clay is placed on pieces of broken pots that have been spread out on the ground. Those pieces come from pots which broke while being fired or broke while being used for cooking on the family fire. Broken pots, therefore, are still useful for the community in their cre-ative activity. A broken pot is never thrown away; it becomes an important part of the process of making new pots. Broken pots symbolize the continuity of a particular village, where new pots could not be made and would not exist without the contribution made by those broken pots. The past of a people is symbolized by the broken pots, which become part of a present and provide con-tinuity for the future of a people who need to be fed in order to have a future. In the pottery process the potters constandy apply water to the 206 Review for Religious clay while they shape it. The broken pots and the water both con-tribute to the making of new pots. The clay placed on the broken pieces of pottery lies at arms' length in front of the potter as she sits spread-legged on the grtund. When one asks the women why they work this way, they simply say it l~as always been like this. For my part, I am reminded of the act of giving birth. Just in front of the womb, a new creation is b.eing shaped and brought to "life." The process is like giving birth, I could not help thinking how distant, by contrast, from the work of their hands first-world potters appear to be, while in the African villages there is a close union between the potter and her creation, the new pot, nourishment and new life for her own village and community. A piece of wood is used to shape the sides of the pot. The bottom of the pot is shaped with a knife. The inside is cleared of any extra superfluous clay, and the pot is left to dry in the sun-- except during October, when the pots are shaded from the very strong sun of that time of year. After the clay has dried some-what, the pot is smoothed with a stone and decorated and is then ready for firing. Mthough the potter may modify the traditional line-and-dot patterns of decoration, there is a tendency.towards a good deal of continuity. When a woman ig learning pottery, she is taught how the lines and dots are "supposed to be." The process of firing the pots, which takes place some days later, provides a very interesting sight. The pots are lined up and covered.with leaves and branches, Thes~ are then set on fire. The whole community sit~ around the fire and watches as a few women take care of it. There is~ a great sense of expectation as the proc.ess goes on. Some pots will break. Others will come through in good shape and will be ready ftr the final decorations made with some roots~ while the pots are still hot. The "paint" for the decorations (red and black) is provided by local roots which the commufiity also associates with initiation and maturation.' When I was present for the first time, only one pot out of ten broke during the firing process--considered a real success by the community. Usually more pots break. Following the firing of the pots, the whole community cele-brates the event with a meal. After all, the community itself will store and cook their food in those pots and will also generate some income when they sell some of the pots at the local market. March-April 199~ 207 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Not every region produces pots, for the right kind of soil is pres-ent only in the dry areas of the Nldaoma mountains. Wonderfully, the dry soil of arid mountains is the means of feeding these com-munities and thus sustaining life. Creating and Breaking Pots in Mission Work It seems to me that when one talks about potters and pottery, one assumes (as in Jeremiah 18:1-6) that God is the potter and we are those pots of clay that he is molding. What would happen if we consider ourselves the potters and that the clay symbolizes the cultures and peoples we are trying to evangelize, such as the Boorana of Garba Tulla, Kenya? When a mission community moves in and establishes itself, a particular group of people encounters another particular group of people. Each group has its own culture. The so-called "mission-aries" have the idea of forming a Christian community with the other group. Their effort can be compared to the making of pots, for that process, too, is culturally shaped, and people's expectations derive from tradition. Without excluding the possibility of lay people being mis-sionaries and therefore "makers of pots," I will explore these con-cepts with reference to Garba Tulla and its particular makers of pots and the particular missionary community in the parish of the Good Shepherd. The potters involved here came from different cultures. They all had experience of pottery making, and all of them recognized that it could be done only in a particular, culturally constructed way. Pottery making as the creation, subsistence, and growth of a Christian community required a certain experience and a certain risk. All those missionary religious had already experienced mis-. sionary work in other cultures and had brought with them whole bundles of assumed knowledge and expectations. Because of those past experiences, the process of learning pottery making in the Garba Tulla context was already shaped by their backgrounds. There were no teachers involved in this pottery making. Each one just did as he or she knew best. The clay had been prepared by the Italian missionaries who had lived among the Boorana before. When the new potters took over, there was no period of preparation, and the process of mak-ing the pot began immediately. The pot had to be shaped accord- 208 Review for Religious ing to the potters' expectations, and everyone's expectations were different. Although fulfillment, success, and failure can be assumed in the community of African women making pottery, there was no sense of one community of pot-ters among those missionaries. The making of pots was being done individually; different pot-tery techniques were being used. While it is true that a pot is a pot and not something else, the same word when used by different peo-ple evokes different images, shapes, and colors. And so, with-out some discussion and planning and some exchange and dialogue concerning the matter, there is no way to know somebody else's ideas about the making of pots-- or the making of a Christian community. While a pot is being made, much cooperation is needed. People offer each other valuable suggestions about the shape and consistency of a pot. The water needed for making the pots needs to be shared cooperatively. But for both potters and missioners, the process of firing a pot is the crucial moment of. fulfillment or failure. Without some discussion and planning and some exchange and dialogue concerning the matter, there is no way to know somebody else's ideas about the making of pots-- or the making of a Christian community. Towards a Spirituality of Broken Pots The pots need to be fired in order to be ready for use. In fir-ing, the makers of pots learn how successful their work has been. After the ashes are cleared, some of the pots will be found broken and later find themselves part of a new effort to make pottery. The time when the community witnesses the firing of pots is a very exciting time. A whole community effo]'t is being judged and evaluated. Our Western attitude looks almost exclusively at the result: if the pots that have broken amount to none or only a few, then the whole exercise has been a great success. If the bro-ken pots are numerous, then the whole community exercise is a disaster. March-April 1993 209 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Even if all the pots break and there is none left, they still rejoice because they have exercised a community moment, they have strengthened their common effort to keep their community fed. The African attitude toward such evaluations is completely different, and it hassomething to contribute to a missionary spir-ituality. Very few times in their lives hive the potters seen no broken pots after the firing. Even when a great number of pots breaks, they rejoice in the sturdy few that will increase the num-ber of cooking pots or the income of their community. Even if all the pots break and there is none left, they still rejoice because theyhave exercised a community moment, they have s.trengthened .their common effort to keep their community fed. If the number of new pots is none, they still have the broken pots, which are needed for the making of new ones. With these thoughts in mind, I consider no missionary effort ever to be in vain; any attempt at community life and at preaching the gospel through that community life cannot be in vain. Even the¯ so-called "fhil-ure" of the religious missionary team in Garba Tulla at a particular time, has aided new attempts to proclaim the gospel among the Boorana peo-ple. Through the life of those reli-gious, broken pots have become new pots once again. New expectations have arisen, and new people have arrived. Once again some individuals have disagreed with one another, but new expec-tations l~ave been created. Some will become'broken pots, others goo.d pots, but they will all eventually be part of each other. If'one looks at success and fulfillment and at failure and frus-tration in mission work, one realizes that the fulfillment or frus-tration among religious does not come from the visible or measurable results, but from the attitude towards those events. The sense of expectation and purpose in a religious community is the guide to the true meaning of fulfillment or frustration in mis-sionary work. Of those religious who served in Garba Tulla dur-ing that time of "crisis," some would consider that period a failure because the objectives of the planned mission work were not real-ized. Others, instead, would see tl~at period as a fulfilling and 210 Review for "Religiom. gratifying one because they provided it the much-needed experi-ence of learning how to cooperate on an international religious team. Success and failure among religious men and women can-not be evaluated in a simple empirical way, as in the business world, but they coincide with our own attitude towards the whole process of preparation for that particular time in our lives and towards the spiritual fruits which can appear during that time and afterwards. Further Points for Reflection. The lessons for a spirituality for mission based on the process of molding and firing pottery can be summarized in the follow-ing points: ¯ The whole process calls for an openness to the Spirit so as to recognize the whole process as already a "success." ¯ We need to accept that we are always learning and that oth-ers are also learning. The whole process of going through a learn-ing period in our lives is also a success. Hopefully that process of learning will never end. ¯ Pottery cannot be properly made by one person; it has to be a community effort, because we all need others to help us. Religious doing missionary work also need others in order to bear fruit and make new beautiful pots. ¯ Different people have learned pottery from different teach-ers and designs from different regions and villages. The beauty of it lies in its diversity. The success in our process of learning pot-tery comes from the realization that a proper diversity brings beauty and opportunities for exchange and dialogue. When reli-gious come from different countries and different cultures, they also experience success if they are able to recognize and appreci-ate the beauty of their diversity. ¯ The pot of water that is shared by the potters is needed for the flow of moisture in the making of pots. That water is passed around when somebody realizes that somebody else is in need: the other person's pot is also my concern. Success in missionary work begins when one realizes that all persons, including even oneself, need water at one point or another. The fact of caring for one another's project is already a success in life. ¯ The broken pots become important because they symbolize the continuity of a group of people, of a community. They are March-April 1993 211 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots used in a new effort to make pots for the community, for the stor-ing and preparing of food for the life of the community. The bro-ken pots become more important than the good pots because the pots that turn out fine after firing will eventually be sold to mem-bers of another community. The broken pots provide continuity of life that the village community needs. Maybe a spirituality for mission could be called a spirituality of broken pots: the more pots we break, the more successful we are, for we have experienced the past and present community pulling together, and we have recognized the need for others if we are to be successful. A spirituality of broken pots would recognize the need to accept that we cannot fully control the firing pro-cess. Whatever we do, some pots may end up broken, and so there is the possibility of trying again. Other pots may turn out well and then, in one way or another, will help the community to serve other people, even other potters, and people in other villages. The broken pots retain their unique importance because they provide the foundation for a new making of pots and thus for the food and life of the community. I feel that a spirituality for mis-sion should be a spirituality of broken pots--and that a spiritual-ity of broken pots always creates success, as Jeremiah shows: "So I went down to the potter's house; and there he was, working at the wheel. And whenever the vessel he was making came out wrong, as happens with the clay handled by potters, he would start afresh and work it into another vessel, as potters do." Note 1 See M.I. Aguilar, "Nagaa: Centro de Encuentro con el Islam," Chile Misionero, 9 (1992), and "Dialogue with Boorana Religion: A Path of the Gospel in Garba Tulla, Eastern Kenya," The Seed (Nairobi), October 1992. Review for Religious MICHAEL D. MOGA A Spirituality of Aging In life we are confronted with many spiritualities and are frequently forced to make a choice among them. There is the spirituality dis6nctive of a diocesan priest and there are many spiritualities of religious life. The spirituality of a contemplative religious is quite different from that of a religious engaged in the active apostolate. The spiritual-ities offered by oriental religions differ from those of Western religions. The theme of this paper is simple: the spirituality for an older person is quite different from the spirituality for a younger person. As we grow older the Spirit of God leads us through certain approaches and principles that are distinctive to the particular period of life in which we find ourselves. Human life is constantly changing and we are chal-lenged to move with those changes. We move through the stages of childhood and maturity into old age which demand that we leave behind one way of living to face life in a new and different way. The adjustments are difficult and may take many years to accomplish. The change from maturity to old age challenges us once again to leave something behind and to adjust to a new situation of life. Like the passage from childhood to maturity this new change presents us with a difficult Michael D. Moga SJ has taught philosophy in various seminar-ies and colleges in Mindanao. His address is Xavier University; Cagayan de Oro City; Philippines. aging christ March-April 1993 213 Moga ¯ A Spirituality of Aging adjustment which will demand a great deal of effort and pain before it is fully accomplished. I find it strange that a rather long portion of time and edu-cation (as much as 40-45 years) can be set aside to prepare a per-son for adult life whereas little or no attention or time is devoted to planning for one's final phase of life (which can sometimes last as long as 25 or 30 years)! In our early training as religious we were presented with a certain spirituality that for the most part fitted the life of a young person. It emphasized generosity ("to give and not to count the cost"), high ideals (working for "the greater glory of God"), and commitment. This spirituality was exemplified in a saint like Francis Xavier who lived a life of generous commitment until his early death at 46. He did not live long enough to face the need to change his spirituality. A spirituality for an aging religious must, of necessity, be quite different. I suggest that John the Baptist, who said: "He must increase and I must decrease," would be a fine model. John saw that his disciples were leaving him and following Jesus. He sensed that his basic work was completed and his role in God's plan had been fulfilled. He accepted all of this. He did not try to hold on to his disciples nor did he need to continue his previous work of preparing for the Messiah. He stepped back and let Jesus pro-claim his message, trusting that God was working through Jesus and through others. In a spirit of trust he lived his statement: "He must increase and I must decrease." Aging religious find themselves in the situation of John the Baptist. As they grow older many things are taken from them. As they diminish in body, mind, and spirit their influence in the world around them is lessened, and they are called upon to find God in these losses. Instead of emphasizing generosity as they did as a young religious, they are called to accept these dimin-ishments and even to rejoice in them. The total commitment to apostolic work of the young religious is set aside. Instead of giv-ing themselves more fully to apostolic involvement, aging reli-gious are called to withdraw from such involvements. Above all they are called to trust, to believe that as they decrease, Jesus increases. They are called to trust that their diminishment is part of God's way of furthering the kingdom. A spirituality of aging can take many different forms. Let me present a few of them. 214 Review for Religious 1. The spirituality of an old person should include a serious preparation for death. Death is not simply something that happens to us. It is one of the most important actions of our lives, for in death we go back to God. Such an important movement of our lives should be given due attention and concern. Just as in our younger lives we took the choice of our careers very seriously, so is death a similar crucial moment which deserves to be treated with similar seriousness and to be prepared for. The period of aging has been given to us by God as a time of intense preparation for death. It would be a mistake to be so busy with our work and other affairs that we give no time, thought, or effort to this approaching event in our lives. We may want to die with our boots on but such an attitude may possibly manifest a lack of faith. We are, of course, called by God to do our share of the work of building the kingdom. But our faith affirms that we are called by God to pass beyond ~his world to live with him in an eternal kingdom. It would be wrong in our present lives to be so occupied with the "God of this world" that we ignore that "God of the future" and the life that he calls us to. One way that we prepare for death is to begin to put things aside. Since in death we will be forced to leave our involvements in this world, a preparation would be to step back from these involvements, to become less absorbed in our concern for the achievement of goals and the attainment of success. Nature aids such stepping back from involvements. For an aging person the world often becomes rather "tasteless." The process of aging may not only reduce the sensitivity of our taste buds but also diminish our hunger for the activities and concerns of the world around us. We can find ourselves not caring which basketball team is the champion this year, which songs are the most popular, or who is the most popular movie star. When we were young such things made a difference, but as we grow older we find ourselves losing touch with these "popular" concerns. The tendency to lose touch need not be conceived as a sad thing, a loss. It is clearly the way nature guides us to turn away from unimportant things and to focus our lives on what is more Aging religious find themselves in the situation of John the Baptist. March-April 1993 215 Moga ¯ ~1 Spirituality of Aging essential--on the death that is coming, on the God we are soon to meet. Thus as we prepare for death we are challenged to free ourselves from all that is unimportant in life. In our journey through life we easily let ourselves get caught up in concerns, possessions, and habitual ways of thinking and being. How won-derful it would be if the contemplation of death could make us truly "free" of all these petty things so that we might live for what is truly important. Preparing for ~something means that we focus on it. The preparation for death demands a positive focus on that meeting with God which is found in death. Preparing for death thus invites us to turn toward God and give ourselves directly to God. Older religious shbuld be freed from apostolic involvements precisely so that they might have more time for prayer, more time for God. Every year we prepare to meet God in our celebration of Advent. During Advent we join with the people of the Old Covenant in their "waiting for God." We also join with Mary as she waits for her child to be born. During Advent we Christians give our energies to "waiting," to living out our waiting in a full and complete way. The lives of aging religious can embody this spirit of Advent and be filled with a "waiting for God." 2. A challenge to accept. One major characteristic of a spiritu-ality of aging is its emphasis on a person's acceptance of dimin-ishment. As we grow older various things are taken from us. There is a basic lessening of energies as we grow older. Vision and hear-ing begin to deteriorate. Health fails as we encounter various ill-nesses and pains. Control over one

Issue 34.2 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right Q 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or mgney order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1975 Volume 34 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard.; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Typical Constitutions Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., a specialist in canon law for religious, is a member of the Jesuit Community at St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. INTRODUCTION 1. Plan. The purpose of the present work i~ to facilitate the writing of constitutions of congregations of sisters. It is in fact a typical set of con-stitutions and consists of three parts: I. Spiritual, which is a topical list of spiritual matters for the articles of the first and purely spiritual part of the con-stitutions. Legal norms and details are excluded from this part. 11. Legal, the more important legal articles of congregations of sisters, and these are to make up the second part of the constitutions. III. Statutes, which are not part of the constitutions. These consist of the lesser legal norms to which are to be appended the enactments of general chapters and the ordinances of superiors general. The present work is baled primarily on "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," Review for Religious, 25 (1966), 361-437, also ob-tainable as a reprint from Review for Religious; secondarily on "Proper Juridical Articles of Constitutions," ibid., 27 (1968), 623-32; and lastly on "Constitutions without Canons," ibid., 452-512, which also contains a hand-book of the canons that apply to congregations of sisters, 477-508. 2. Two parts in constitutions. The essential principle of this plan is not that the constitutions are divided into two parts but that the first part is purely spiritual and therefore does not contain legal norms or details, which are con-fined to the second part and to the statutes. The reason for following this prin-ciple is my experience, observation, and judgment that legal norms and details necessarily dry up the spiritual articles of constitutions. The Holy See ap-proved the constitutions of Visitation Nuns, effective from February 2, 1971, 191 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 which are divided into two books, one spiritual, the other legal. The same ap-proval had been given in the past to the constitutions of some orders of nuns, in which the canonical norms were appended to but did not form part of the con-stitutions. A juridical norm is to be accurate, clear, and as brief as possible. There are to be no superfluous words; every word is to mean something perti-nent. The result is a dry utterance, and it is evident that details are dry. Law and details have their necessary and proper place in the religious life. They are to be observed but this does not mean that they are to obstruct or to be con-fused with the spiritual. Ecclesiae sanctae (no. 14) states in effect that less stable, less general, and more detailed norms should not be part of the con-stitutions. 3. Canons should not be included in the constitutions unless this is necessary or counseled for the sense of the particular article of the con-stitutions. The constitutions are the proper law of the institute; canons and other matters of common law are the universal law of the Church. There will undoubtedly be translations of the new canon law into at least the principal vernacular languages. An analytical index or handbook of the canons that apply to congregations of sisters can be used by all congregations, and the ex-cessive number of legal articles that have been in the constitutions of each con-gregation can thereby be eliminated. As stated above, there is such a handbook of canons for congregations of sisters in Review for Religious, 27 (1968), 477- 508. 4. First and spiritual part of the constitutions. Typical topics for this first section are listed below. This section should consist of the broad, fundamental, spiritual, religious, human, and social principles of the religious life. The style should be in keeping with the dignity of the matter, motivating, and inspiring. It is to be well written but is not to be merely attractive spiritual reading nor mere narration or information. It is to lead to action, as is the second part of the constitutions and the statutes; it is a rule of life and conduct, and it is in this most important aspect that the style of current experimental constitutions is defective (Review for Religious, 33 (1974), 378-9). This section is not to be a manual of spiritual theology; it gives the more general and fundamental motivation and spirituality of the Church and of the institute. The spiritual sec-tion does not free from but presumes and demands the constant prayerful study of Sacred Scripture, the teaching of the Church on spiritual, theology and the religious life, spiritual theology itself, and other sound spiritual words (ibid.). Obviously the spiritual section should be solid and not filled in with unreal or unsubstantial motivation or spirituality. Especially for this section, the follow-ing footnotes in the article, "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregat!ons," can be consulted. These contain a listing of other articles, particularly those of spiritual content, ,often found in chapters of constitutions in the past. These footnoteg are nos. 5, 16, 19, 22, 27-9, 32, 36, 40-1, 43-6, 71-2, 74, 90, 93, and 95. From this same article, the following articles should be in the first and spiritual section of the constitutions: 1-2, the general and special Typical Constitutions / 193 purpose; 82, 94-5, the definitions of the essential religious vows; and no. 93, the law of common life in relation to poverty. 5. Second and legal section of the constitutions. This is composed in greater part of the determinations of matters left undetermined in canon law and also of articles over and above canon law. By reason of canon 572, par. 1, no. 6, the vows must be received by the legitimate superior according to the constitutions. The constitutions therefore must determine who is the legitimate superior in this matter. Canon law says nothing on the age required for elected general officials nor for local superiors. The practice of the Holy See in ap-proving the constitutions of pontifical congregations commonly demanded thirty-five years of age for such officials and thirty for local superiors. These are consequently articles over and above canon law. The more important and broader legal articles are to be in this section, those of lesser moment and less general in the statutes. Headings are put at the beginning of many articles in these two sections that the reader may see at a glance and reflect on the topics to be in the second and juridical part of the constitutions and in the statutes and also to note the general difference of the topics in these two sections. These headings therefore do not have to be retained in the constitutions. The order of the matters or articles in none of the three sections will necessarily be the same in all congregations. However, it is recommended to follow the same order in this second section and in the statutes for facility of use. Other articles of like import may be added to any of the three sections. In the juridical part of the constitutions and in the statutes, more important additions should be put in the former, the less important, less general, less stable in the latter. This legal sec-tion and the statutes have especially been based on the three articles mentioned in no. 1 above. In the article, "Proper Juridical Articles of the Constitutions," the following explanatory footnotes can be ~sefully consulted: Nos. 2, 4, ad-mission to and dismissal from the postulancy; 3, prolongation of the postulan-cy; 5, admission to the noviceship; 8, dismissal of a novice; 9, prolongation of the noviceship; 10, admission to profession; 11, anticipation of renewal of tem-porary vows; 12, exclusion from profession; and 13-5, dismissal. Articles 86, 101-2 of this section may be omitted, and 58 transferred to the statutes. 6. Statutes, which are not part of the constitutions. It is to be emphasized that this section is not part of the constitutions. Therefore, it does not demand the approval of the Holy See nor of the local ordinaries in the case of diocesan congregations. Consequently, it may be changed by the institute itself, unless the matter is one of common law, as the custom book is now changed by the in-stitute. This section is to contain the norms that are less important, less general, less permanent, more procedural than .substantial, more office and job profiles and descriptions than norms on the religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 14). Articles 3, 10, 19, 21, 23-4, 29, 33, 41, 43, 88, and 95-6 of this section may be omitted. The enactments of general chapters and the ordinances of superiors general should be placed at the end of this section. For this reaspn it can be more efficient and economical to print this section as a separate and less expensive booklet. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume34, 1975/2 7. Bibliography. In addition to the articles mentioned in no. 1 above, the following questions and answers and articles in Review for Religious will be helpful: "Too Much Canon Law in Constitutions," 15 (1956), 220-1; "The Constitutions," 19 (1960), 323-67; "Differences in Constitutions of Sisters and Brothers," 26 (1967), 507-16; "Differences of Law between Pontifical and Diocesan Lay Congregations,"' 27 (1968), 289-307; "Omission of Canons from Constitutions," ibid, 1144; "Postconciliar Norms on the Revision of the Constitutions," ibid., 1145-7; "Votes Required for a Revision of the Constitutions," ibid., 752-7; "Canon Law for Religious after Vatican II," 31 (1972), 949-66; 32 (1973), 1273-87; 34 (1975), 50-70; "Revision of the Constitutions," 33 (1974), 376-85. 8. Exclusion of added notes. It had been my intention to add some ex-planatory notes, but I later felt that this would only encumber an article that was already very long. It is sufficient to note that the duration of the postulan-cy, noviceship, and temporary profession is that which 1 consider the best. Provincial superiors and officials may also be elected in the provincial chapter. Finally, the directress of novices and her assistant do not have to be designated for any determined duration of office. 9. Based on the practice of the Holy See. The legal section of the con-stitutions and the statutes have been presented with the practice of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in approving constitutions always in mind. However, at times I have proposed suggestions of my own, for example, in art. II, 31, 59, and 115 of the legal section and art. 60 of the statutes. 10. General chapter retained as now. I found the place and manner of presenting the general chapter difficult to decide. I finally concluded that the best place was at the end of the legal section of the constitutions, with the norms of common law retained as now. PART I. SPIRITUAL The spiritual section, as here given, is composed simply of a list of the headings that should be developed in it. One important reason for this plan is to give full possibility for the expression of the distinctive character of a religious institute, which cannot be readily actuated in the legal section. As stated in the introduction, this part should consist of the broad, fundamental, spiritual, religious, human, and social principles of the religious life. It should give the more general .and fundamental motivation and spirituality of the Church and of the institute. Other topics may be added but they should fall within the principles just given. I. Divine vocation. The invitation of the Holy Spirit is manifested in the interior illumination and inspiration of the personal, close, and especially the total love of our Lord for you. 1 Jn 4:9-11, 19; PC, no. 6. 2. Response. Your response was to accept a life of personal, close and es-pecially of total love for our Lord. Col 3:14; Rom 13:10; I Cot 13:!3; Eph 3: 17-8; LG, nn. 39-40, 44; GES, no. 24; PC, nos. 5, 11. Typical Constitutions 3. Baptismal consecration. Relation of this invitation, response, and acceptance by God to baptism, or baptismal consecration, as the sacrament of regeneration and initiation. PC, no. 5. 4. Spirit and charism of the founder or foundress. 5. Relation of Rule, constitutions, and all law for religious to this invitation-response or consecration. PC, no. 2; Review for Religious, 33 (1974), 381. 6. Invitation to perfection is to the perfection of love or better still to a love that is personal, close, and especially total of our Lord and of all mankind for Him. 7. Perfect love will be attained completely only in the eternal possession of God in the beatific vision. From this it follows that life on earth must be similarly supernatural and be lived with sufficient understanding and con-sciousness of the Indwelling of the Trinity, of sanctifying grace as the par-' ticipation in the divine nature, as adoption into the family of God, of the in-fused virtues, the predominance of the supernatural virtue of charity, of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the illumination and inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and of the relation of these to the Mystical Body, the vine and the branches, and the sacraments. I Cor 3:16-7; Jn 14:23; 2 Pt 1:4; 1 .In 3:1; Rom 8:17; Gai 4:4-6; Eph 1:4-6; Rom 8:28-30. 8. Our Lord is the ideal. However, we do not so much imitate as live Him, by growing through love and in proportion to its degree into His way of think-ing, loving, and desiring, and thus in any circumstances doing what He would do. This is the source, the living, that Vatican II emphasized in its effect of witnessing to Christ. Phil 2:5. 9. The outstanding fact of the consciousness of our Lord was that He was the Son of God. Ours should be a like consciousness of being a daughter or son of the Father, the younger sister or brother of our Lord, and under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. This should be a result of the conviction of the divine adoption. 10. Difference from the lay life is in the means to the end. Mt 5:48; 1 Thes 4:3; Eph 1:4; I Pt 1:4-6; LG, no. 11, 39, 42. 11. The purpose of the essential means, the evangelical counsels, is to con-trol the principal obstacles to the perfect lore'of God. LG, no. 44-6; Letter of the Papal Secretary of State, July 13, 1952, Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest, 4, 96. (a) Chastity. 1 Cor 7:32-8; LG, n. 42; Pius XII, Courtois, The States of Perfection, nn. 505-505a. (b) Poverty. Mt 19:23 ff.; 13:22; Lk 12:34; 12:23. (c) Obedience. Rom 5:!9;.Phil 2:8. 12. Religious life is ecclesial. The religious life is ecclesial because it is part of the function of the Church to promote the intensely universal and total love of Christ, which is what religious are primarily to live, and this is what they are primarily mandated to live by ~he approval of the Church of their institute and its Rule and constitutions; Vatican II places the religious life in the Dogmatic 796 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 Constitution on the Church; canon law makes religious life a distinct class of persons in the Church, with juridical existence and distinctive rights and obligations; the Church in approving the apostolic nature and constitutions of an apostolic religious institute gives its members a mandate to go forth as its apostles; in the religious life should be found primarily the sanctity that is the note or guide to the true Church; the Church interprets authentically the evangelical counsels, regulates their practice, establishes states of perfection, approves Rules and constitutions, and guides and watches over religious in-stitutes that they may remain faithful to the spirit of their founders. LG, nos. 43-5. 13. Necessity of all three evangelical counsels. Leo XIII, Plus XI, Plus XII, Paul VI, Vatican II. Courtois, ibid., nos. 33, 130, 403; Bouscaren- O'Connor, ibid., 6, 427; LG, no. 44. 14. Mass, Eucharist. The Eucharist as the center of the life and day of the religious; counsel of due devotion to the Real Presence. 15. Liturgy. The liturgical spirit should be progressive according to the norms of the Church, markedly interior, adult, restrained rather than distinc-tively emotional, and not prominently characterized by a love of novelty and change. 16. Devotions. The spiritual life of a religious should not be mere devotionalism, but devotions and practices approved by the Church should be neither excluded nor discouraged. 17. Blessed Virgin. The institute and its constitutions should necessarily emphasize the Blessed Virgin Mary in her relation to our Lord~ redemption, the Church, and to the sanctification, community life, and apostolate of the members. 18. Sacred Scripture. The reading and study of Sacred Scripture should be encouraged primarily in relation to and for the spiritual life. 19. Prayer. The broad principles of prayer and its place in the religious life should be given. Liturgical prayer does not exclude personal prayer. There should be a prescription of at least a half hour of daily mental prayer. Lk 5:16; 6:12; 9:18; 11:1. 20. Community life. Its pui, poses are: strength and perseverance to live the religious consecration by living with others of the same consecration; help in the apostolate and professional aspect of life; to enable the religious to develop socially and to have a socially satisfactory life. Anything is to be avoided that would fragment the congregation or that would factually eliminate or lower community life. 21. Apostolate. The mission of the Church must be a continuation of that of our Lord, and that of a religious institute must be to be a part of the aposto-late or mission of the Church. The primary purpose of redemption was the com-munication of divine life, and thus the essential apostolate of a religious in-stitute is that its members be an instrument, even if remote, in the communica-tion, intensification, and retention of divine life. The work should also be such as to help the union of the religious with God. The apostolic works are com- Typical Constitutions / 1117 munity works, not, outside of a rare exception, to be merely an individual work. There should be a special love and dedication to work for the poor, the neglected, the handicapped, the unfortunate, and the disadvantaged. The religious life is not mere natural development nor an apostolate of mere social work and action (GES, no. 42). All secularization of life or work must be avoided. 22. Formation. The broad spiritual, educational, professional, human, and social aspects of formation should be given in this section. 23. Cloister, Silence. In some institutes more contact with seculars should be encouraged than in the past, but cloister should be observed and the house should never lose the atmosphere of a religious house. The members of a com-munity should have the assurance of reasonable privacy. Religious silence is an aid to prayer and to an interior life, not mere politeness. 24. Mortification. The tendency to self and sin within us demands morti-fication. This must always be voluntary but much more passive than active mortification. Not everything in the Christian life is positive but nothing is purely negative. Mortification, renunciation, abnegation have as their purpose an intensification in virtue, which is always lived personally in Christ, and es-pecially in the supernatural virtue of charity. 25. Ecumenical spirit. 26. Religious and the modern world. The relation of religious to the tem-poral world should be included and based on the Constitution on the Church in. the Modern World of Vatican II. 27. The broad principles on at least several of the following should be in this part of the constitutions: suitability of candidates, pre-entrance guidance, postulancy, noviceship, juniorate, religious habit, profession, the sacrament of penance, religious exercises, correspondence, suffrages for the dead, retirement and care of the aged, sick and infirm, government, general and provincial chapters, superior general, other superiors, councilors, treasurers, directresses of postulants, novices, and junior professed, provinces, regions, houses, the Rule, and the constitutions. PART II. LEGAL I. General purpose. The Sisters of. are a pontifical (diocesan) congregation whose general purpose is the response of a personal, close, and particularly total love of our Lord and of all men and women for Him in a supernatural life that is a filial love of the Father, an intimate participation in the divine life, and whose primary and universal norm is the person Christ, un-der the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. It is a life mandated and guided by the Church, and by the charism and spirit of their own congregation. These are supplemented by the laws of the Church and of their own congregation. The sisters profess .the simple vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, which are an essential means to the attainment and intensification of this love. 2. Special purpose. (For example:) In their special purpose, the sisters, mandated by the Church as its apostles, are essentially to be an instrument of 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 God in the communication, preservation, and intensification of the same divine life in others. This they do through their life and work as Christian educators and nurses in hospitals. 3. Authorization necessary for a change in the special purpose or in the particular works. Without the permission of the Holy See the special purpose may not be changed, nor may works not included in it be added in a general and permanent manner. 4. Change in the habit. No permanent, substantial, or general change in the form or color of the habit may be made without the permission of the Holy See. 5. Right to admit to the postulancy. The right to admit an applicant to the postulancy belongs to the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior), who has also the right to dismiss her if she is judged unfit for the life of the congregation. A postulant has full liberty to leave the congregation. 6. Right to admit to the noviceship. The right to admit to the noviceship appertains to the superior general (higher superior) with the consent of her council. 7. Duration of the noviceship. The duration of the noviceship is two years. The added year is not required for the validity of profession, and the superior general with the advice of her council may dispense from it wholly or in part. 8. Dismissal of a novice. For any just reason a novice may be dismissed by the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher or provincial superior) with the advice of her council. 9. Prolongation of the noviceship. If the st~itability of a novice is doubtful, the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher superior) with the advice of her council may prolong the time of her noviceship but not beyond six months. 10. Religious profession. Upon completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of simple vows or other com-mitment for three (two) years. At the end of this period the sister shall renew her vows for two (three) years. The superior general (provincial congregation: provincial or higher superior) may prolong the prescribed period of temporary profession but not beyond a year, in which case the sister must renew her tem-porary profession. OR: . . . the novice shall make profession of simple vows for one year. This profession is to be renewed annually until five full years of temporary vows are completed. The superior general . . . OR:. Upon the completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of simple vows for three years or until the com-pletion of her twenty-first year, if a longer time is necessary to attain the age prescribed for perpetual profession. The superior general., may prolong the prescribed time of temporary profession, but not beyond a second term of three years, in which case the sister must renew her temporary profession. The right to admit to first profession, renewal and prolongation of tem-porary vows, and perpetual profession appertains to the superior general with Typical Constitutions / 199 the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but only consultative for the renewal and prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual profession. (Provincial congregation:) The right to admit to first profession, prolonga-tion of temporary vows, and perpetual profession appertains to the superior general with the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but only consultative for prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual profession. The provincial superior presents the requests for admission to the superior general, with the deliberative vote of her council for first profession and the consultative vote for prolongation of temporary vows and for perpetual profession. The right to admit to renewals of temporary vows appertains to ttie provincial superior w~th the consultative vote of her council. 11. For the validity of any profession, the following is necessary in addition to the other requisites stated in canons 572-3: that the profession be received by the superior general or a sister delegated by her. (Provincial, regional, and) Local superiors and their legitimate substitutes are delegated by the con-stitutions to receive all professions in their (provinces, regions, and) houses and with power also to subdelegate. The added period of two years is not necessary for the validity of the perpetual profession, and the superior general with the advice of her council may dispense from it wholly or in part. 12. The following is the formula of profession: 13. Obedience. The sisters are bound to obey by reason of the vow only when lawful superiors command expressly in virtue of holy obedience or in equivalent words. 14. Superiors shall rarely, prudently, and cautiously command in virtue of holy obedience and only for a grave reason. It is expedient that a formal precept be given in writing or at least in the presence of two witnesses. 15. Local superiors, especially of small houses, shall not give commands in virtue of holy obedience except in grave and urgent cases, and they should then immediately notify the superior general (provincial congregation: provincial superior). 16. The sisters are obliged by the virtue of obedience to fulfill the prescrip-tions of the constitutions, statutes, and other orders of superiors. 17. Supreme authority. Supreme internal authority is exercised ordinarily by the superior general assisted by her council and extraordinarily by the legitimately assembled general chapter. 18. Authority of the superior general. A serious reason and the deliberative vote of her council are required for the superior general (a higher or regional superior) to transfer or remove a superior or official before the expiration of a prescribed term of office. Unless otherwise specified, officials may be reap-pointed indefinitely. With the consent of her council, the superior general may prolong the term of office of (provincial, regional, and) local superiors when this is necessary. 200 / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/2 19. The superior general has the right to transfer the sisters from one house to another and to assign their duties. 20. Provincial congregation. The congregation is divided into provinces. The original establishment and the total suppression of all existing provinces are reserved to the Holy See. All other establishment, modification, and sup-pression of provinces appertain to the superior general with the consent of her council and to the general chapter. Transfer to another province. Only the superior general with the advice of her council and ordinarily after consulting the interested, provincials may per-manently transfer a sister from one province to another. 21. The superior general shall prudently direct and supervise the ad-ministration of the temporal goods of the congregation and of each (province, region, and) house in accordance with the prescriptions of canon law, the con-stitutions, and statutes. 22. The superior general may not appoint a vicar and delegate powers to her nor may she grant a sister active or passive voice or deprive her of it. 23. If it should ever seem necessary to remove the superior general from of-rice, the general council must submit the matter to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (diocesan: the ordinary of the residence of the superior general). If the superior general thinks it her duty to resign her of-fice outside the time of the sessions of any general chapter, she shall in writing make known her reasons to the same Congregation (diocesan: same ordinary). During the time of any general chapter, even if only of affairs, the superior general shall present her resignation and reasons to the chapter, which is com-petent to accept it, elect her successor and also other elective general officials. 24. Canonical visitation. The superior general shall make the visitation of the entire congregation at least every three years (at least once during her term of office). She shall see that the houses immediately subject to her are visited every year. The provincial superior shall make the visitation of all the houses of her province once a year, and the same frequency of visitation of a region shall be observed by the regional superior. Both may omit this visitation in the year of the visitation by the superior general. Should the higher or regional superior be lawfully prevented from making the visitation, another sister is to be delegated for this purpose. 25. The superior general may designate a visitor for an individual (province or) house or for a particular matter; (the provincial and regional superiors m~.y do the same for an indi~,idual house or a particular matter;) but to appoint a visitor for the entire congregation (in the case of a provincial or regional superior, for the ei~tire province or region), the consent of the perti-nent council must be obtained. The visitor must be a sister of perpetual vows. 26. The purpose of the visitation is to strengthen union and charity, to in-quire into the government and administration of the (province, region, and) house as also into the fulfillment of the obligations of the religious life; to cor-rect prevalent abuses, and to give occasion to each sister to speak freely on matters that concern her personal welfare or the general good. The (Provincial, Typical Constitutions / 201 regional, and) local superiors retain the usual exercise of their office during the visitation. 27. Councilors. The general council is composed of the four general coun-cilors. The superior general, although she presides and votes in the council, is not a member of the general council. She places all acts in her own name, even in matters that require the consent or advice of the council, since she alone possesses the authority to govern the congregation. 28. Although the superior general has the right of acting completely un-assisted except in matters reserved to higher authorities or that by law demand the consent or advice of the general council, yet she is earnestly counseled to seek the advice of her council also in other important matters. 29. The duty of the councilors is to give advice and assistance to the superior general in matters of government and administration, to cast a deliberative or consultative vote according to canon law, the constitutions and statutes, and to propose whatever they think is to the best interest of the con-gregation. 30. The councilors are bound to secrecy concerning all matters discussed in the sessions, as well as those confided to them by reason of their office. If a councilor violates this secrecy, she shall be admonished by the superior general. If she repeatedly violates it, she shall be corrected according to the gravity of her fault. 31. If a general councilor or elected general official dies, resigns, becomes incapable of fulfilling her duties regularly, or is deposed, the superior general with the consent of her council shall replace her by a sister having the requisite qualities, who shall hold office until the next general chapter. No general coun-cilor or official may resign her office or be removed except for a serious reason, accepted as such by the superior general with the consent of her council. 32. The assistant and vicar takes the place of the superior general when the latter is absent or when for any reason whatever is unable to exercise her office. 33. Although the superior general alone has the right to convoke the general council, when she is ill, absent, or otherwise impeded, the assistant con-venes and presides over the council. 34. When acting in her representative capacity, the assistant shall issue only such directions as are required for ordinary government and cannot be deferred; and then as far as possible she shall act according to the presumed will of the superior general. 35. At the death, resignation, or legitimate ~emovai from office of the superior general, the vicar shall assume the government of the congregation with full power and equal rights. She shall continue in this office until the elec-tion of the superior general at the next chapter, to be convoked according to art. 67. 36. In the absence or disability of the assistant, the councilor next in precedence and so on in succession shall act as the representative of the superior general. 37. Administration of temporal goods. Not only the congregation but also 202 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/2 each (province and) house is capable of acquiring, possessing, and ad-ministering temporal property. 38. Provincialsuperior. Each province is governed by a provincial superior who like the superior general is a higher superior. The provincial superior is ap-pointed by the superior general with the consent of her council for a term of three years. She may be reappointed for a second but not for a third immediate term in the same province. She continues to govern the province until the arrival of her successor. 39. The primary duty of the provincial superior is to govern the whole province so as to promote the common and individual good. She must be an example of religious life, distinguished for her virtue and practical judgment, devoted to the interests of the sisters, loyal to the supreme authority in the con-gregation, and obedient to ecclesiastical directives. She is to be thoroughly convinced that on her administration depends the well-being of the province. 40. The provincial superior has the right: (a) To govern the whole.province in accordance with the constitutions and statutes, with the exception of matters reserved to higher authorities; (b) To give commands and make regulations in conformity with the con-stitutions and statutes; (c) To admit candidates to the postulancy; (d) To grant the sisters the necessary permissions for studies, travel, visits, and similar matters according to the established regulations; (e) To encourage and initiate good works. 41. It is the duty of the provincial superior: (a) To exercise supervision over the observance of the constitutions, statutes, and all obligations of the religious life; (b) To make the visitation of the houses in conformity with art. 24 and to submit a report of her visitation to the superior general; (c) To advise and direct local superiors in their activities; (d) To present, with her recommendations, matters submitted by local superiors that require recourse to the superior general; (e) To examine the financial statements of the houses and to make the financial reports of the province; (f) To examine the annual personnel and disciplinary reports of the local superiors and forward copies of these, along with her own report, to the superior general. 42. In extraordinary and difficult matters, the provincial superior should consult the superior general. If the urgency of the case makes this impossible, she should later inform the superior general of the matter. 43. The four (two) provincial councilors constitute the provincial council in the same way as was stated for the general council. One of the councilors shall be designated as assistant and vicar and shall take the place of the provincial superior when the latter is absent or otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of her offices, unless the superior general with the consent of her council has appointed another sister as acting provincial. In the event of the death or Typical Constitutions / 203 removal from office of the provincial superior, the vicar shall assume with full powers and equal rights the government of the province until the newly ap-pointed provincial assumes office or until the arrival of an acting provincial ap-pointed in the same way by the superior general. In other respects the assistant shall observe the norms established in art. 32-6. The provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer are appointed on the recommendation of the provincial superior by the superior general with the consent of her council; they must be at least thirty years of age and of perpetual vows. The provincial secretary and treasurer may be councilors but not the provincial assistant. 44. The norms of statutes nos. 60-87 apply with due distinctions to the provincial council and councilors and the provincial secretary and treasurer. 45. Regions. Because of their distance from the motherhouse or other proportionate reasons, houses that cannot as yet be united into a province may be grouped into regions, which are not distinct moral persons. The establish-ment, change, and suppression of regions appertain to the superior general with the consent of her council. 46. Regions are governed by regional superiors who in almost all respects have the rights and duties of provincials. Their authority is delegated by the superior general but, unless an express restriction is made or is to be un-derstood from the nature of the matter, this delegation contains all the authority possessed by provincials. The regional superiors are consequently to be guided in general by the articles of the constitutions and statutes on provinces, the provincial superior, and the provincial officials. 47. By the law of the constitutions and for her lawful appointment as regional superior, a sister must possess the qualities required by common law for provincials. The articles of the constitutions on the manner of appointment, term of office, reappointment, removal from office, and relation of the provin-cial superior to the superior general all apply also to the regional superior. 48. The regional superior is assisted by two councilors and, if it seems necessary or opportune, by a secretary and treasurer, all appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council. These sisters must be professed of perpetual vows. One of the councilors shall be designated as regional assistant and vicar. With due distinctions, nos, 60-87 of the statutes, and art. 43 above apply to the regional council, councilors, and the regional secretary and treasurer. 49. Houses. For the erection of a house, the superior general must have the consent of her council and the written consent of the local ordinary. The con-sent of both is also necessary for the suppression of a house,, which likewise appertains to the superior general. (~Diocesan:) For the erection of a house, the superior general must have the consent of her council and the written consent of the local ordinary. The suppression of a house appertains to the local or-dinary after having consulted the superior general. The latter must have the consent of her council for requesting or agreeing to a suppression. 50. Local superiors. Every house, including the motherhouse, shall be 204 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 governed by a local superior, who is appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council for a term of three years. She may be appointed for a second but not immediately for a third term in the same house. The local superior must have completed her thirtieth year and be professed of perpetual vows. She continues to govern the house until the arrival of her successor. 51. The local superior possesses the authority that canon law, the con-stitutions, and the statutes assign to her and has the right to govern the house in all matters not reserved to higher authorities. 52. The superior shall devote herself with generosity and perseverance to the education and formation of the younger sisters, particularly those of tem-porary vows. 53. Directress of novices. The formation of the novices is entrusted to the directress of novices who must be professed of perpetual vows and at least thirty years of age. 54. Obligation, change, and interpretation of the constitutions and statutes. The (Rule), con~stitutions and statutes do not of themselves bind under sin but only under the penalty imposed for their infraction, unless the violation concerns the vows, or divine or ecclesiastical laws, arises from a sinful motive, or gives scandal. 55. Superiors are bound to admonish the sisters and to impose penances for violations of the constitutions and statute's. The sisters are obliged to accept the corrections and to perform the penances. 56. The superior general may interpret authentically also the statutes and the ordinances of the general chapter, but the Holy See alone can authentically interpret and change the constitutions. In a doubt about some particular point, the general chapter, as also the superior general with the advice of her council, may give a practical interpretation of the matter and the sisters are obliged to follow this interpretation. (Diocesan:) The superior general may interpret authentically also the statutes and the ordinances of the general chapter, but the constitutions may be neither authentically interpreted nor changed without the unanimous consent of the ordinaries of the dioceses in Which the congrega-tion has houses. In a doubt . . . 57. Changes in the constitutions may not be made without serious reasons. Any change must be first discussed in the general chapter, and if it obtains at least two-thirds of the votes, it shall be submitted to the Holy See (diocesan: local ordinaries) for a decision. 58. A complete copy of the constitutions shall be given to every sister at the beginning of the noviceship that she may study and earnestly strive to observe them. 59. Dispensation. No superior of the congregation, without an express con-cession from competent authority, may dispense from the laws of the Church or the decrees of the Holy See. 60. For a determined time and a proportionate reason, the superior general may dispense individual sisters, a house, province, region, or the entire con-gregation from a merely disciplinary article also of the constitutions. A provin- Typical Constitutions / 205 cial and a regional superior have the same power for their sisters, houses, province, or region, and a local superior for her sisters and house. The direc-tress of novices has the same power as a local superior but only with regard to the novices and the novitiate. 61. All superiors may dispense themselves in those matters in which they may lawfully dispense others. GENERAL CHAPTER 1. Convocation and members 62. The general chapter must be convoked as often as general elections are necessary. The ordinary convocation takes place every sixth (fifth, fourth) year at the expiration of the term of office of the superior general and on her death, resignation, or deposition. 63. (Pontifical:) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the permission of the Holy See is required in addition to the consent of the general council. (Diocesan:) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the superior general must have the consent of her council. 64. The chapter must be convoked by the superior general at least six (three, a year) months before the day fixed for its assembly. In the letter of convocation, the date and place of the chapter shall be designated, and the prayers to be said for the success of the chapter shall be prescribed. The place of the chapter shall be determined by the superior general with the consent of her council. 65. Before the convocation, the superior general must inform the ordinary of the diocese in which the chapter will convene of the date of the election of the superior general, that he may preside either personally or by delegate at this election. 66. The meeting of the chapter may be anticipated or deferred for an im-portant reason, but not more than three (six) months in either case. 67. In the event of the death, resignation, or deposition of the superior general, the chapter must be convoked by the vicar as soon as possible, so that the assembly of the chapter will not be postporied more than six (three, a year) months after the vacancy of the office. 68. The members of the chapter are: (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f) (g) -- or (g) The superior general The four general councilors The secretary general The treasurer general Former superiors general The provincial superiors delegates elected by each province The regional superiors 206 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 The delegates elected by (the regions and) the sisters according to art. or (g) Forty (or other number) delegates elected by the sisters. 69. The superior general and elective general officials continue as members of the assembled chapter even though at the elections other sisters have succeeded them in office. 70. The superior general with the consent of her council may summon other sisters to assist in the clerical and similar work of the chapter. She may in the same manner invite such sisters and externs to present and discuss questions with the chapter. None of these are permitted to vote. 71. The chapter elects the superior general, general councilors, secretary general, treasurer general, and treats of the more important affairs that con-cern the entire congregation. 2. General norms to be observed in elections 72. The tellers elected for the general chapter must take an oath to perform their duty faithfully and to keep secret the proceedings of the chapter even after the elections are completed. All the capitulars are likewise bound to secrecy: The places of the tellers and secretary shall be near the president. 73. The tellers are to take care that the ballots are cast by each elector secretly, individually, and in order of precedence. The secretary draws up ac-curately the proceedings of the chapter, which shall be signed by the president, the tellers, and the secretary herself. These are to be preserved in the archives of the congregation. 74. Two-thirds of the capitulars must be present for the validity of the acts of the general (and provincial) chapter, but all must be convoked. 75. Even though a sister may have the right to vote in her own name under several titles, she may nevertheless cast but one vote. 76. The capitulars must be present in person at the election. No one may validly vote by letter or by proxy, lfa capitular in the house where the election is being held cannot be present at the election because of illness, her written vote sh"all be collected by the tellers in a sealed envelope. 77. If a capitular believes that she cannot attend the general (or provincial) chapter on account of sickness or for some other serious reason, she is to in-form the superior general (or provincial superior), who shall decide with the consent of her council whether the capitular should be excused and her sub-stitute summoned. 78. All the sisters, whether capitulars or not, are forbidden to procure votes directly or indirectly for themselves or others. Prudent consultation regarding the qualities of those eligible is permitted within the bounds of justice and charity. 79. Each of the electors shall write on her ballot the name of the sister for whom she votes, fold the ballot, and drop it in the ballot box placed before the president. 80. When all the ballots have been cast, the tellers shall first count the Typical Constitutions / 207 folded ballots in the presence of the president and the electors to ascertain whether the number of ballots corresponds to the number of electors. If the number of ballots exceeds the number of electors, the balloting is null and void. Otherwise they shall proceed to the inspection of the ballots. 81. The ballots are then opened and examined. They are read first by the senior teller, who in an audible voice shall make known the name on each ballot, then by the president and lastly by the junior teller. The votes must be recorded by the secretary. At the end of each balloting, the president must an-nounce the names of all sisters voted for and the number of votes given to each. 82. No sister may validly vote for herself. A vote is also null and void: (a) If given by one who is incapable of a human act or has by law been deprived of active voice; (b) If it is not given freely. Consequently a vote is invalid if an elector is forced directly or indirectly by grave fear or fraud to elect a specified sister or one or the other among several specified sisters; (c) If it is not secret, certain, absolute, and determined; (d) If it is blank or for an ineligible person. 83. Even if one or more votes are null and void, the election is valid provided the one elected received the number of valid votes required by the constitutions. 84. Unless otherwise prescribed for a particular election, all elections shall be decided by an absolute majority of secret votes, that is, a number which ex-ceeds half the number of valid votes cast; but if after two ballotings no one has received an absolute majority, a third and last balloting will be held, in which a relative majority decides. In an equality of votes among several candidates in this third balloting, the senior by first profession is elected; if the sisters made their first profession on the same day, the senior~by age is elected. This same norm shall resolve an equality of votes on the only, limiting, or decisive balloting of any election. 85. After the required number of votes has been obtained, the president shall declare the election legitimately made and announce the name of the sister elected. This proclamation of the newly elected superior general ter-minates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 86. All sisters are obliged to accept any office to which they have been elected. 87. The ballots must be burned by the tellers after each session. 88. Ira sister elected as superior general or general official is not present at the chapter, she is to be summoned immediately; but the sessions of the chapter are suspended only in the former case. 89. The office of the superior general and of the elected general officials always terminates at the election of their successors. 3. Election of delegates 90. All sisters, including those of temporary vows or other commitment, have active voice in the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter. 208 / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/2 Only sisters of perpetual vows, unless members of the chapter in virtue of any office, have passive voice. OR: Only sisters of perpetual vows have active and, unless members of the chapter in virtue of any office, also passive voice in the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter. 91. The superior general (provincial) shall publish a list accessible to all the electors, compiled with the consent of her council, of all the sisters of passive voice. 92. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the electors shall assemble under the direction of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret ballot forty (or other number) sisters. 93. The local superior shall collect all the ballots without inspecting them and enclose them with her own ballot in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall write on this inner envelope, "Election of Delegates, house N . " and forward it immediately to the superior general (provincial). 94. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the superior general (provincial) and her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes of this first balloting. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. All sisters who received an absolute majority are elected. A report of the first balloting containing a declaration of those elected, the number remaining to be elected in the second balloting, and a list of the sisters voted for and the number of votes each received will be published to all the houses as soon as possible. 95. A second voting with the same procedure will be held in all the houses on the day appointed by the superior general (provincial). A relative majority is decisive in this second balloting. The substitutes are in order the sisters who received the next highest number of votes after those elected in the second balloting. The superior general (provincial) shall immediately inform the con-gregation (province) of the complete results. OR: ,90. As 90 above. 91. The superior general (provincial) shall publish a list accessible to all the electors, compiled with the consent of her council, of all the sisters of passive voice divided into three groups as equal as possible in number according to precedence from first profession. 92. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the electors shall assemble under the direction of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret vote ten sisters from each group and a fourth ten from any or all groups and in any proportion. 93. As 93 above. 94. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the superior general (provincial) and her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes of this first balloting. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. All sisters who received an absolute majority are elected. A Typical Constitutions / 209 report of the first balloting containing a declaration of those elected, the number remaining to be elected from each group in the second balloting, and a list of the sisters voted for and the number of votes each received will be published to all the houses as soon as possible. 95. A second voting with the same procedure will be held in all the houses on the day appointed by the superior general (provincial). A relative majority is decisive in this second balloting. The substitutes are in order the sisters of each group who received the next highest number of votes in the second balloting after those elected. The superior general (provincial) shall im-mediately inform the congregation (province) of the complete results. 96. (Provincial congregation) Houses immediately subject to the superior general elect two delegates, superiors or subjects, of perpetual vows who are - not members of the chapter in virtue of any office, to the general chapter. The voting is carried out and the votes forwarded to the superior general according to the norms of art. 92-5. 4. Provincial chapter a. Convocation and members 97. The provincial chapter is to be convened as often as a general chapter is to be held .and at least three (six, a year) months before the date of the assembly of the latter. The provincial superior is the president of the chapter, and its principal purpose is to elect the delegates to the general chapter. The provincial shall convoke the provincial chapter at a date sufficient for the proper prechapter preparation for both the provincial and general chapters. 98. The members of the chapter are: (a) The provincial superior (b) The four (two) provincial councilors (c) The provincial secretary (d) The provincial treasurer (e) The delegates as described in nn. 90-5 b. Sessions 99. The chapter shall immediately elect from among the capitulars by a relative majority of secret votes the two tellers and in the same way, in a dis-tinct balloting, the secretary of the chapter. The tellers for these elections shall be the two junior capitulars by first profession, and the secretary shall be the provincial secretary. 100. The chapter shall then elect by separate and secret ballotings and ac-cording to the norm of art. 84 two (three, four or more) delegates and two (three, four or more) substitutes to the general chapter. These must be sisters of perpetual vows. , 101. After these elections, the chapter shall deliberate on matters that con-cern the spiritual and temporal welfare of the province. The same procedure shall be followed in deliberations as in the general chapter. 210 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 102. Enactments of the provincial chapter have no force until they are ap-proved by the superior general with the consent of her council. They are then promulgated to the province by the provincial superior. 103. The chapter shall finally deliberate on the proposals to be made to the general chapter by the province. 104. The secretary shall draw up the complete proceedings of the chapter according to the norm of art. 73. One copy is to be sent immediately to the superior general, and a second copy is to be preserved in the archives of the province. The provincial superior shall immediately publish the elections to the province. 5. Preliminary sessions 105. The chapter immediately elects from among the capitulars by a relative majority of secret votes the two tellers and in the same way, in a dis-tinct balloting, the secretary 9f the chapter. The tellers for this preliminary election shall be the two capitulars youngest by first profession, and the secretary general shall be the secretary. 106. The chapter shall then elect by a relative majority of secret votes and on one ballot a committee of three capitulars who had no part in preparing or approving the reports of the superior general. This committee is to examine the reports thoroughly and give its observations to the chapter before the election of the superior general. 107. The superior general presents to the chapter two distinct and com-plete reports: one of the persons, religious life, and works; the other on the material and financial condition of the congregation since the last chapter. The financial report must have been prepared and also signed by the treasurer general. Copies of the reports should be distributed to the capitulars before the opening session. 6. Election of the superior general 108. The day before the election of the superior general shall be spent in retreat by the capitulars, and permission shall be requested for exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. 109. On the day of the election of the superior general, Mass shall be offered in the house where the chapter is held to invoke the blessing of God on the work of the chapter. If the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit. 110. To be elected validly to the office of superior general, a sister must be professed of perpetual vows and have completed her thirty-fifth year. 111. The superior general is elected for six (five, four) years. She may be elected for a second but not for a third consecutive term, o i 12. The superior general is elected by an absolute majority of secret votes. If three ballotings fail to produce this majority, a fourth and last balloting shall be held. In this balloting the electors shall vote for one of the two sisters who Typical Constitutions / 211 had the highest number of votes in the third balloting, but these two sisters themselves shall not vote. If more than two would be eligible by reason of an equality of votes in the third balloting, the norm of art. 84 shall limit the can-didates to two. Of these two the sister who receives the greater number of votes in the fourth balloting is elected. (Diocesan congregation of women:) The local ordinary has full power to confirm or rescind the election of the superior general according to his conscience. 113. The president shall proclaim the newly elected superior general. This act terminates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 7. Election of the general officials 114. After the election of the superior general and after she has taken the oath according to art. 72, the chapter under her presidency shall elect the four general councilors, the secretary general, and the treasurer general. These elec-tions are made by separate ballotings and according to the norm of art. 84. Immediately after the election of the four councilors, a distinct election for the assistant and vicar shall be held from among the four elected councilors. Or: The first councilor elected shall also be the assistant and vicar. 115. To be elected a general councilor or official a sister must have com-pleted her thirtieth year and have made perpetual profession. Any one of the councilors except the assistant may be elected as secretary general or treasurer general. These two officials should possess the special competence required for their offices. The superior general .may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. (Appointment articles) The secretary general and the treasurer general are not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the superior general with the consent of her council. Both may be general coun-cilors but neither may be the general assistant. Both should possess the specialized competence required for their offices. The superior general may ap-point one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. The secretary general is not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the superior general with the consent of her council. She may be a general councilor but not the general assistant. She should possess the specialized competence required for her office. The superior general may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. 8. Chapter of affairs 116. After the elections the chapter shall treat of the more important af-fairs that concern the entire congregation. The enactments of the chapter may not be contrary to common law. or the constitutions. 117. Matters are decided by an absolute majority. I f the votes are equal, the presiding superior general has the right of deciding the matter. The voting is public. Any capitular has the right of requesting a secret vote on a particular matter. Such a request shall be put to the public vote of the chapter, lfthe ma- 212 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 jority favors the request, the voting on the particular matter shall be secret. Or: Matters are decided by an absolute majority of secret votes. If the votes are equal, the presiding superior general has the right of deciding the matter. 118. (The provincial chapters and) All professed sisters may submit written proposals to the general chapter. These must be forwarded to the superior general or her delegate at the prescribed time before the opening of the chapter. The capitulars retain the right of making proposals thereafter and during the sessions up to the definite time determined by the chapter, after which no proposals may be submitted. l l9. At a suitable time before the general chapter determined by the superior general, committees of three or more capitulars, appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council, shall arrange the proposals and prepare a report on each distinct proposal. These reports are to be com-pleted before the chapter opens. Every effort is to be made to have these com-mittees composed predominantly at least of capitulars. The superior general may permit that some or all of the committee members be elected by the secret vote of professed sisters or that they propose names for appointment. 120. The chapter is not obliged to deliberate on every matter proposed. It may simply exclude anything that appears useless or inopportune, or it may remit a matter to the study and decision of the superior general and her council after the close of the chapter. 121. The principal affairs are: (a) Suitable means of perfecting or restoring the living of the religious life (b) Proposals submitted to the chapter (c) Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the general treasury Or: Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the provincial treasury, and each province to the general treasury (d) Extraordinary expenditures which the superior general (provincial, regional), and local superiors may authorize or make alone, those that demand the advice or consent of their councils, and those for which local superiors must recur to the (provincial, regional superiors and either of these to the) superior general (e) Norms to be observed in addition to the prescriptions of the sacred canons in alienations, purchases, the assuming of obligations, and other matters of a financial nature (f) Determination of the dowry (g) Confirmation, modification, or abrogation of ordinances of previous general chapters (h) (In provincial congregations) Establishment of new provinces or the suppression of existing ones, the uniting of provinces, or the modification of their boundaries (i) Determination of more important matters for which the advice or con-sent of the general (provincial, regional) or local councils is necessary. 122. The enactments of the chapter remain in force permanently unless Typical Constitutions / 213 amended or abrogated by subsequent chapters. Or: The enactments of the chapter remain in force until the next chapter, in which they may be confirmed, modified, or abrogated. 123. The chapter may not be protracted beyond a reasonable length of time. The superior general shall publish the elections, ordinances, and other acts which the capitulars have determined should be published. STATUTES I. Classes in institute; rights and obligations. The members form one class of sisters subjec( to the one superior general and living under the same common norms. 2. Precedence. The following is the order of prec.edence in highly official and ceremonial matters (see full list in Review for Religious, 25 [1966], 365-8): 3. Titles. The superior general shall be called. The title of. shall be given to. The title of all other religious is Sister. The superior general alone at the expiration of her term of office shall retain the title of. and have the precedence stated in art. 2. 4. Religious habit. (For example:) The habit is of suitable black materi-al. 5. The veil of the professed sisters is of black material and light in weight. 6. The professed sisters wear a silver ring on the third finger of the left hand . . . 7. The sisters are permitted to wear white habits, veils, and cinctures while occupied in duties or in a climate that necessitates or counsels this dress. 8. Dowry. Postulants shall bring the dowry determined by the general chapter. The chapter may grant delegation in this matter to the superior general and her council. 9. The superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council may remit wholly or in part the dowry of a candidate who lacks financial means. 10. A postulant dispensed from the dowry is obliged to establishone later if she receives any substantial gift or bequest. 11. After the first profession of a sister, the superior general (provincial congregation usually: provincial superior) with the consent of her council and that of the local ordinary must invest the dowry in safe, lawful, and profitable securities. ! 2. The dowries must be prudently and justly administered at the habitual residence of the superior general (provincial congregation usually: provincial superior). 13. Material entrance requirements. The superior general (provincial con-gregation: provincial or higher superior) with the consent (or advice, or no vote required) of her council shall determine the wardrobe and the sum to be paid for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceship. In particular cases and for just reasons, the superior general (provincial congregation: higher or provincial superior) has the right to dispense wholly or in part from this requirement. 214 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 14. A record shall be kept in a special register of all the property that the candidate brings with her to the postulancy, signed by the candidate and two sisters as witnesses. 15. The candidates, upon their admission to the postulancy, must sign a civilly valid document in which they declare that they will not seek compensa-tion for services given to the congregation before or after profession, whether they leave or are dismissed. This document is to be renewed at the time of perpetual profession. 16. Testimonials for admission. Before being admitted candidates must present these credentials: (a) Certificates of baptism and confirmation (b) A testimonial of good moral character from their pastor or another priest, unless the aspirant is already well known to the superior general (higher superior) (c) Certificates of good health, both physical and mental, from reliable professional sources (d) Other testimonials that the superior general (higher superior) may con-sider necessary or opportune. 17. Postulancy. The time prescribed for the postulancy is a year. For a just reason and with the advice of her council, the superior general (higher superior) may prolong or shorten this time but not beyond six months. 18. Every three months the directress shall give to the superior general (higher superior) and her council a report of the postulant's virtues, defects, and aptitude for the life of the congregation. 19. About three months before the beginning of the noviceship, the postulant shall in writing petition the superior general (higher superior) for ad-mission to the noviceship. 20. Before beginning the noviceship, the postulant shall make a retreat of. entire days. 21. Noviceship. As soon as possible, each province shall have its own novitiate. 22. The noviceship begins in the manner determined by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) The added year ends on the second anniversary of the inception of the noviceship, and on this day the temporary profession (or other commitment) may be licitly pronounced. 23. Three months before the end of the noviceship, the novices shall in writing request admission to the profession (or other commitment) from the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: provincial superior). 24. The novice shall be informed of her admission to vows so that in due time she may relinquish the administration of her property, dispose of its use and usufruct, and make a will, as prescribed in common law. 25. Before pronouncing her vows (or other commitment), the novice shall make a spiritual retreat of. entire days. 26. Profession of a novice in danger of death. Even though she has not com-pleted the time of her noviceship, a novice in danger of death may, for the con- Typical Constitutions / 215 solation of her soul, be admitted to profession by any superior, the directress of novices, or their delegates. The ordinary formula of profession is to be used if the condition of the novice permits, but without any determination of time. 27. By this profession the novice is granted a plenary indulgence in the form of a jubilee; the profession, however, has no canonical effect. If the novice should recover her health, her state will be the same as if she had made no profession. Therefore, if she perseveres, she must complete the full time of the noviceship and on its completion make a new profession, All of these prescrip-tions apply to other forms of commitment. 28. Religious profession. The written declaration of profession, whether temporary or perpetual, must be signed by the professed sister, the superior general or sister delegate who received the profession, and two other sisters as witnesses. This document shall be carefully preserved in the files of the con-gregation. 29. Three months before the expiration of each temporary profession, the sisters shall present a written petition to the superior general (provincial con-gregation frequently: provincial superior) to be admitted to the renewal of tem-porary vows or to perpetual profession. 30. When the time for which the vows were pronounced has expired, they must be renewed without delay. However, for a just reason, the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher or provincial superior) may permit the renewal of temporary vows to be anticipated, but not by more than a month. An anticipated renewal expires only on the day on which a non-anticipated renewal would have expired. Higher superiors.for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days. 3 I. Before perpetual profession, the sisters shall make a retreat of. entire days, and before renewal of temporary vows or commitment, a retreat of. day(s). Only the first profession must be made in the novitiate house. 32. Poverty. With the permission of the local superior, sisters may perform acts of proprietorship required by civil law. If such an act includes alienation of property or concerns an important matter, this permission is reserved to the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superiors) unless the case is urgent, when it may be given by the local superior. 33. Penance. All superiors are to strive to have confessors readily available before Communion. 34. Religious exercises. The sisters shall daily recite in common Lauds (and) Vespers (and) Compline of the Divine Office. 35. Every day the sisters shall spend a half hour in mental prayer. They shall individually prepare the matter of the prayer beforehand. 36. They shall make the particular and gen'eral examen of conscience at noon and at nigl~t. Privately and at a convenient time during the day, they shall recite five decades of the rosary and devote at least fifteen minutes to spiritual reading. 216 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/2 37. The sisters shall accustom themselves to visit the Blessed Sacrament frequently. 38. Annually the sisters shall make a retreat of. full days. They shall observe a day of monthly recollection, which ordinarily is to be the o. Sunday of the month. 39. The sisters shall make a public devotional renewal of their vows and commitment on . . . They should renew their vows frequently in private, par-ticularly at Mass, and on the day of monthly recollection. The formula of this renewal is . 40. Superiors shall grant another suitable time to sisters who are prevented from performing the prescribed spiritual duties at the ordinary time. 41. Mortification and penance. In the practice of corporal mortification and penances of a private nature, the sisters are to be guided solely by the con-fessor; for those that are public they must have the permission of the superior. 42. Enclosure. The parts of the house subject to enclosure are the dor-mitories of the sisters, their cells, the infirmary, in a word, all places destined by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) for the ex-c| usive use of the sisters. 43. If the chaplain or other priests live in a house of the sisters, their apartments shall if p~ssible have a separate entrance and be separated from the part of the house occupied by the sisters. 44. The sisters shall observe the prescribed norms and usages on leaving the house. 45. Sisters living outside a convent of the congregation for study are obliged, if possible, to live in a religious house. 46. Correspondence. The correspondence of the sisters is subject to the authority of superiors, and of the junior professed, novices, and postulants also to their directresses. 47. Silence. Religious silence shall be observed according to the prescribed norms and usage of the congregation. 48. "~postolate. The sisters in hospitals shall be guided by religious and ethical principles in their professional activities. In a doubt they shall consult religious or ecclesiastical authority. 49. Care of the sick. Spiritual aid shall be promptly given to the sick. They may ask for the confessor they prefer and are to be given the opportunity of receiving Holy Communion frequently and even daily during their illness. 50. Suffrages for the dead. At the death of a professed religious or novice, the local superior shall immediately inform the superior general (provincial) and the close relatives of the deceased. The superior general (provincial) shall promptly send a notification to all the houses (of the province). 51. Departure and dismissal. The superior general (higher superior) with the advice of her council, for just and reasonable motives, may exclude a religious from renewing temporary vows (or other commitment) or from mak-ing profession of perpetual vows, also because of physical or psychological ill-ness. Religious who have made profession of temporary vows (or other corn- Typical Constitutions / 217 mitment) may freely leave the congregation when the term of the vows has ex-pired. 52. For the dismissal of a sister of perpetual vows, serious external reasons are required, together with incorrigibility, after attempts at correction have been pre~viously made without success, so that in the judgment of the superior general and her council there is no hope of amendment. The efforts at correc-tion shall include not only the admonitions but also a change of employment, transfer to another house, and other suitable means, if judged expedient for a reform of conduct. 53. If by the consent of the council expressed in secret ballot the sister has been found incorrigible and her dismissal approved, the superior general shall transmit the whole matter, with all the relevant acts and documents to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (diocesan con-gregation: ordinary of the diocese where the religious house to which the sister is assigned is situated): (Added article in diocesan congregation:) The sister has the right to appeal to the Holy See against the decree of dismissal, and if she makes this appeal within ten days from the date on which she was informed of her dismissal, the decree of dismissal has no juridical effect while the recourse is pending. 54. In an automatic dismissal according to canon 646, it is sufficient that the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the advice of her council make a written declaration of the fact, but she is to take care that the collected proofs of the fact are preserved in the files of the congrega-tion. 55. In the case of~rave external scandal or of very serious imminent injury to the community, any professed sister may be immediately sent back to secular life by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council or even, if there is danger in delay and time does not permit recourse to the superior general (higher superior), by the local superior with the consent of her council and that of the local ordinary. The sister must immediately put off the religious habit. The local ordinary or the superior general (higher superior), if she is present, must without delay submit the matter to the judgment of the Holy See. 56. A sister who has been canonically dismissed is by that very fact freed from all her religious vows. 57. Superior general. The residence of the superior general shall be at the motherhouse and may not be permanently transferred without the consent of the general council and the permission of the Holy See (diocesan: permission of the ordinary of the present and proposed places of residence). 58. With the deliberative vote of her council, the superior general may place certain houses and works under her immediate authority and may also transfer these to a province. 59. The office of the superior general is incompatible with that of local superior, even in the motherhouse, or with that of any other official. '60. General council. The councilors should live at the motherhouse, but in a 218 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 case of necessity two of them, with the exception of the assistant, may live else~,here, provided they can attend the meetings of the council, to which they must always be summoned. The councilors should not be burdened with any employment that might prevent them from fulfilling properly their duties as councilors. Or: At least one councilor, ordinarily the general assistant, must live at the motherhouse. The other general councilors must be assigned to houses from which they can attend the meetings of the council, to which they must always be summoned . . . 61. An ordinary session of the council shall be held every month, but the superior general may convoke the council as often as important affairs are to be discussed. The council may not deliberate unless the president and at least two councilors are present. 62. At the beginning of the session the miiautes of the precedit~g meeting as recorded by the secretary general shall be read. When approved they shall be signed by the superior general and the secretary. 63. The superior general shall then place before the councilors the matters for discussion. When a subject has been stated and appropriate explanatigns given, she shall allow the councilors to speak and shall take care to obtain'the opinion of each. The councilors shall express their opinions with becoming respect, simplicity, and sincerity. 64. When the consent of the councilors is required, the voting must be by secret ballot. The decisions of the council are to be made by an absolute ma-jority. In an equality of votes, the superior general may decide the matter. 65. A full council is necessary for appointments to office. If a councilor cannot be present and the appointment cannot be deferred, a sister of perpetual vows shall be chosen by the councilors as substitute. 66. The superior general may summon sisters who are not councilors for in-formation or advice, but such sisters are never permitted to vote. All who thus attend sessions of the council are 9bliged to secrecy. 67. The superior general must have the deliberative vote of her council in the following cases: (a) Condonation in whole or in part of the dowry (b) Investment of the dowry (c) Determination of the expenses of the postulancy and noviceship (d) Admission to the noviceship and first profession (e) Establishment or transfer of a novitiate (f) Imposition of a formal precept of obedience on the entire congregation, a province, or a house (g) Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows and the send-ing of a professed religious immediately back to secular life (h) Convocation of an extraordinary general chapter; designation of the place of the general chapter; inviting of externs and sisters who are not capitulars to the chapter; excusing of a capitular and the summoning of her substitute; compiling of list or groups for the election of delegates; appoint-ment of committees for proposals to the general chapter; and approval of enactments of provincial chapters Typical Constitutions (i) Transfer of the permanent residence of the superior general or of a provincial superior (j) Appointment of a visitor for the entire congregation (k).Choice of a substitute for an absent general councilor (1) Acceptance of the resignation, removal, or deposition of a general coun-cilor or official, and appointment of a successor in these cases (m) Appointment, prolongation of term, transfer, and removal of (provin-cial, regional, and) local superiors, their councilors, secretaries, and treasurers; of a directress or assistant directress of novices, of junior professed, of postulants; instructress of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, prin-cipals of schools, and administrators of hospitals (n) Placing of houses and works under the immediate authority of the superior general and transferring of them to provinces ¯ (o) Transfer or removal of a superior or official before the expiration of a prescribed term (p) Approval of the accounts of the treasurer general (q) Imposition of an extraordinary tax, investment of money, alienation of ¯ property, contracting of debts and obligations, making of contracts in the name of the congregation, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter (r) Establishment, change, and suppression of provinces, regions, and erec-tion and suppression of houses (s) Uniting of the offices of Iota1 superior and local treasurer (t) All matters remitted to the deliberative vote by the general chapter (u) Determination of matters that require the consent or advice of the (provincial, regional, and) local councils. 68. The superior general must have the consultative vote of her council in the following cases: (a) Abbreviation of the added period of the postulancy, noviceship, and temporary vows or other commitment (b) Prolongation of and dismissal from the noviceship (c) Admission to renewal of temporary vows, their prolongation, admission to perpetual profession, and exclusion from renewal of temporary profession and from perpetual profession (d) Declaration of fact for the.automatic dismissal of a professed sister (e) Transfer of a sister from one province to another (f) Approval of the reports of the superior general to the general chapter (g) A practical interpretation of a doubtful point of the constitutions (h) All matters remitted to the consultative vote by the general chapter. 69. Secretary general. It is the duty of the secretary general to assist the superior general with the official correspondence of the congregation. She shall be present at all meetings of the general council and record the minutes of the sessions. She is obliged to secrecy in all that refers to her office. 70. She shall be in charge of the general archives and of all documents relating to the history and administration of the congregation. No document 220 / Review for Religious, l~olume 34, 1975/2 shall be taken from the archives except in conformity with the established regulations. 7 I. The secretary shall compile the annals of the congregation. Every year she shall receive from the local superiors an accurate record of the principal events of their houses. Or: The secretary shall compile the annals of the con-gregation. Every year she shall receive from the provincial (and regional) superiors an accurate record of the principal events of the provinces (regions), and houses. 72. The secretary shall be attentive to all legislation and decrees of the Holy See and to diocesan regulations and civil enactments that affect the congrega-tion, and shall keep the superior general and her council informed on all such matters. 73. The preceding articles apply with due distinctions to (provincial, regional, and) local secretaries. 74. Treasurers. The administration of the temporal goods is entrusted to the general (provincial, regional) and local treasurers under the direction of the respective superiors and the supervision of their councils. The treasurers are obliged to secrecy in all that appertains to their office. 75. The superior general may appoint as many assistants as necessary to the general and local treasurers (general treasurer, and the provincial and regional superior may do the same for provincial, regional, and local treasurers). 76. Treasurer general. The treasurer general manages the financial affairs connected with the general funds. Every six months she must give an account of her administration to the superior general and her council. If everything is found in order, the superior general and the council shall approve her ad-ministration by signing the statement. 77. The treasurer general must see that the (provincial, regional, and) local superiors send a report of their administration to the motherhouse every six months. She shall examine these reports to obtain an exact insight into the financial state of the congregation and its parts and shall give the general coun-cil an accurate account of her examination. 78. Provincial and regional treasurers. The provincial (and regional) treasurer(s) is (are) appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council. Neither the provincial superior nor the assistant provincial may be provincial treasurer. The two preceding articles must be observed also by the provincial (and regional) treasurer with regard to the provincial superior (and the regional superior), her council (their councils), and the local houses. 79. Local treasurers. In each house there shall be a local treasurer, who is appointed by the superior general (provincial) with the consent of her council. Although it is preferable to separate the office of local superior from that of local treasurer, the superior general (provincial), with the same vote of her council, may combine them if this is necessary. 80. The local treasurer shall render a monthly account of her administra-tion to the local superior and her council, who shall examine and approve it ac- Typical Constitutions / 221 cording to the norm of art. 76. Every six months each house shall send an ac-curate financial statement to the superior general (provincial). 81. Administration of temporal goods. Each province must contribute to the general and each house to the provincial (or regional) treasury the sum determined by the general chapter. The superior general with the consent of her council may, when necessary, impose an extraordinary tax on all or some of the provinces and houses or authorize a provincial or regional superior to impose such a tax. 82. Houses or works whose financial responsibility appertains to ecclesiastical or lay administrators and in which the income consists of salaries paid for the sisters shall remit to the general treasury that part of the surplus established by the general chapter. 83. The treasurers validly incur expenses and perform juridical acts of or-dinary administration within the limits of their office. 84. Stocks, bonds, securities, and similar papers shall be placed in a secure safe or safe-deposit box, and the treasurer shall keep an exact record of all such deposits and withdrawals. 85. Each house must maintain an inventory of all property owned by the community. The inventory must be renewed annually for adjustment and depreciation. One copy is to be retained in the house (and another in the provincial or regional house) and one in the files of the treasurer general. An inventory is to be maintained in the same manner for all property owned by (the province and) the congregation. 86. The investment of money should not be made except on the authoriza-tion of the superior general (higher superior) with the consent of her council and ordinarily with the advice of a honest and competent financier. 87. Besides the ordinary expenses, each (province, region, and) house may expend only the sum determined by the general chapter. For other extraor-dinary expenses recourse must be made to the superior general (higher or regional superiors). 88. Provinces. In each house there shall be a provincial house so organized that the proper performance of all provincial duties may be assured. 89. Provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer. The provincial coun-cilors shall individually submit an annual report to the superior general on the spiritual and temporal state of the province. 90. The provincial superior shall assemble her council once a month; ex-traordinary sessions shall be called when necessary or opportune. 91. The provincial superior must have the deliberative vote of her council for the following acts: (a) Condonation in whole or in part of the dowry (b) Investment of the dowry (c) Determination of the expenses of the postulancy and novicesliip (d) Admission to the noviceship (e) Imposition of a formal precept of obedience on the whole province or an entire house 222 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 (f) Sending a professed religious immediately back to secular life (g) Designation of the place of the provincial chapter, inviting of externs and sisters who are not capitulars to this chapter, excusing of a capitular and summoning of her substitute, compiling of lists or groups for the election of delegates, and the appointment of committees on proposals to the general or provincial chapter (h) Appointment of a visitor for the entire province (i) AppointmenL transfer, and removal of local councilors and treasurers, the assistant directress, of novices, the directress of postulants, principals of ~chools, and the uniting of the offices of local superior and local treasurer (j) Removal or transfer of an official before the expiration of a prescribed term (k) Choice of a substitute for an absent provincial councilor (1) Approval of the accounts of the provincial treasurer (m) Investment of money, alienation of property, contracting of debts and obligations, the making of contracts in the name of the province, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter (n) Other matters according to the enactments of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council (o) The determination of matters that require the consent or advice of local councils. 92. The provincial superior must have the deliberative vote of her council for the following requests to the superior general: (a) Erection and transfer of a novitiate and erection and suppression of houses (b) Admission to first profession (c) Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows (d) The appointment, proposal of names, removal, deposition, and replace-ment of provincial councilors and officials, local superiors, directress of novices, of junior professed, instructress of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, and administrators of hospitals (e) The imposition of an extraordinary tax (f) Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council. 93. The provincial superior must have the consultative vote of her council for the following acts or requests to the superior general: (a) To assign the duties of the sisters and to transfer them from one house to another within the province (b) Abbreviation and prolongation of the postulancy, the noviceship, and temporary vows or other commitment (c) Dismissal from the noviceship (d) Admission to renewal of temporary vows (e) Admission to perpetual profession and exclusion from renewal of tem-porary vows a~nd from perpetual profession Typical Constitutions / 223 (f) Declaration of fact for the automatic dismissal of a professed sister (g) Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council. 94. Regions. The regional councilors shall individually submit an annual report to the superior general on the spiritual and temporal state of the region. 95. Houses. At least., sisters must be assigned to a house and adequate provision made for their spiritual assistance. 96. Local superiors. A sister who has been in office for six (twelve) successive years may not again be appointed local superior in any house before the lapse of a (two, three) year(s), except in a case of serious necessity. 97. The local superior shall send a written report once a year to the superior general (provincial) on the spiritual and temporal state of her community. 98. Local officials. In every formal house there shall be two councilors. One is to be designated as assistant and vicar. In smaller houses there is one coun-cilor. The councilors must be sisters of perpetual vows. The local councilors shall write individually to the superior general (provincial) once a year on the spiritual and temporal state of the house. 99. In the absence of the local superior, the assistant shall preside and replace her in whatever is necessary for the ordinary management of the house. 100. The local superior shall convoke her council every month or oftener, if necessary. The norms on the general council, with due distinctions, apply to the local council. Local councilors have only a consultative vote except in the ex-traordinary case mentioned in art. 55 and in matters for which the general chapter or the superior general (or provincial superior), with the consent of her council, has decreed that the vote must be deliberative. 101. The following are the subjects to be discussed by the superior and her council: the fulfillment of the obligations of the religious life and the religious spirit of the community, the occupations of the sisters, the material and finan-cial condition of the house, the work of the school or institution, and the means to be used to encourage works of zeal and to correct deficiencies. 102. Directress of novices. If the number of novices or any other good reason renders it expedient, a sister shall be given as assistant to the directress. The assistant shall be under the immediate authority of the directress in all matters pertaining to the government of the novitiate. She must possess the necessary and suitable qualifications for the office. 103. The directress and her assistant are appointed for three years. Both must be free from all other offices and duties that might interfere with the care and government of the novices. 104. The directress shall grant all ordinary permissions and dispensations to the novices. 105. Every three months the directress must present to the superior general (provincial superior, regional superior) a report on the vocation, character, conduct, progress in.religious life, aptitude,'and state of health of each novice. Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., is a faculty member in the Department of Religion; lona College; New Rochelle, New York 10801. "You can't take it with you" is an oft-cited maxim from the treasures of pop-ular wisdom, intended to temper the Faustian spirit within man by the reminder that death will separate him from all possessions, honors, and ac-complishments. The maxim applies not only to our inability to carry possessions beyond the doors of death. It speaks also to our daily experience: it is impossible to hold onto the joys whi,ch life provides. It is like the proverbial efforts of a child trying to capture soap bubbles. Rather than simply delighting in their multi-colored beauty, (he child tries to capture them and, in so doing, destroys them. So it is with pleasure: the attempt to capture the beautiful ex-perience destroys it. The attempt-to-own generates dissatisfaction, disappoint-ment, worry, jealousy, suspicion, envy, and a host of internal cancers, all of which crowd out the simple faculties of enjoyment. Possessiveness, the Enemy of True Delight This suggests an important principle: the enemy of true delight is possessiveness. He who would experience the beauty of God's world, the joys of full human life, must learn to enjoy beauty, love, achievement without try-ing, without wanting, to possess them. This approach--symbolized by open-handed arms, extended to touch without holding--is not easily learned, and yet it is necessary if one hopes to taste fully the joy which life bestows, erratically but prodigally, on those who have discerned her ways. The truly wise person is one who, for example, delights in the excitement of achievement, who knows well the joys of friendship,, who has developed an appreciation for the arts, but 224 Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows / 225 who resists the tendency to possess them. This person knows that, because life is generous, there is no reason to cling to one particular object, person, or ex-perience. There will always be others. The possessive person, on the other hand, bent upon having certain selected experiences, fails to notice and thus enjoy the offerings of a bountiful world. This person has not learned a key truth about human life: the beautiful things in life "happen" and cannot be made to occur or to remain. The effort to force their occurrence, which in-evitably fails, only introduces disappointment and frustration, pain and anger. A new insight into religious life can be gained when it is approached in this context. The three vows, which have been considered descriptive of the religious life, are concerned with three drives within the human spirit which are particularly susceptible to the possessive tendency. It is the thesis of this paper that religious life, as it has been traditionally structured, places a person in a life style which should reduce the pressures leading to possessiveness in each of these areas. Accordingly, each vow involves both a promise to observe a par-ticular life style, as well as a pledge to seek the freedom from possessiveness which that life style is intended to inculcate. In this article, we shall consider separately these three human drives, noting both healthy (nonpossessive) and unhealthy (possessive) forms of each, showing how the religious life style should foster the former. The Vow of Obedience Essential to healthy personality is the sense of fulfillment which one feels when, with body and mind, through ingenuity and hard struggle, one over-comes the forces of disintegration and creates order, beauty and happiness. To know that one has created, has made one's mark upon the world, has con-tributed to the progress of society, is a deeply felt human need. For one who has known this self-affirmation which follows successful creative efforts, work is not drudgery but is an invitation to self-fulfillment. But we often find the possessive tendency present here, adulterating the healthy creative drive, transforming it into a force which is debilitating. The valuable drive to create can give way all too easily to a pathetic search for success and recognition and, then, the energy which should be directed toward creative activity is channeled into frantic efforts to attain or retain positions of prestige. The person who is possessive about success will avoid any under-taking unless there is a guarantee of succeeding. He will pare his life down to a few "safe" activities in which he knows he can succeed, activities in which there is no competition. When he has found something which affords him some recognition, he will jealously protect that position, resenting any newcomers who might replace him. He studiously will avoid challenge. Such are not the ways of the creative person. He, too, enjoys the taste of success and delights in the recognition which accompanies achievement. But he knows that too much concern with success is destructive, distracting,, and futile; therefore he refuses to expend excessive energies in vain efforts to main-tain positions of real or imagined importance. He knows when and how to let 226 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 go of past success: he willingly relinquishes a position when others better qualified are available. He knows when and how to accept a new challenge, even when--especially when--there is no assurance as to the outcome. Such a life is filled with challenge and struggle, and the excitement of knowing that one is attempting the "impossible." It is difficult to be such a person. It is in this context that we might consider the vow of obedience. By the vow of obedience, a religious not only promises to observe the traditions and customs of a congregation but pledges as well the intention to overcome as far as is possible the tendency to be possessive with respect to creative endeavors, the tendency to idolize success, prestige, or power. The religious life style, in which authority is defined in terms of service to the community, where ap-pointments to positions of authority are for relatively short periods of time, where~ one's "standard of living" does not depend upon the positions held--such a life style establishes a milieu which should reduce the tendency to idolize position. The life of religious community should free its members from many of the pressures which are experienced by others in a world where com-petition is the game plan and where concern for livelihood itself forces many to engage, however reluctantly, in a scramble for positions, and a subsequent campaign to eliminate all contenders, once an office is acquired. Unfortunately, there are religious who never take advantage of this freedom which the structure of their life facilitates but who allow possessiveness to color all their activities. There is no automatic relation between the religious life style and true detachment. Many are the religious who carve for themselves niches in life from which they cannot be moved; many are the religious who place great store in the most foolish of honors and distinctions and who jealously resent anyone interested in the same; many are the religious who are fearful of innovation and innovators and allow this fear to paralyze their lives; many are the religious who never experience the sense of power~and of joy which come from struggle against, and success over, difficult odds. Insecurity is not easily overcome. But the point remains that the com-munal life style can facilitate, and is intended to facilitate, a detachment from the vitiating need to achieve success or prestige. Once freed, the creative drive can be a source of happiness, joy, and growth. The Vow of Chastity Little need be said of the important role which the drive toward human relationship can play in the development of mature personality. Love has the ability to shatter, even if only temporarily, the consciousness which walls a per-son off into an isolated, self-absorbed space. Suddenly, or gradually, the ex-perience of giving and receiving love introduces one into a new understanding of life and one's relation to it; it allows one to dispense with unneeded, counter-productive defenses; and it encourages one to "unpretzel" himself, to allow himself to touch and to be touched by powers beyond the self. For many, love is the first experience, the first taste, of that "other life," that other "self," which is within ("the kingdom of God is within you"), waiting to erupt into and Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows / 227 gladden the lives of every person. "God is love" is the way the Christian writers spoke of the sacred, and for many, perhaps most, love relations will remain the door by which they can understand and enter into the Godly perception. Because the experience of love is redemptive, a person understandably wishes to prevent it from being destroyed, diminished, or infringed upon. Unfor-tunately, this healthy wish to protect something important can, and does, easily degenerate into counterproductive efforts to possess and to demand love, which can never be possessed or demanded. And, thus, the salvific drive towards relationship is transformed into a destructive passion. The possessive person mistakenly believes that exclusivity is a prerequisite to deep, "real" love, and thus he reaches out only to those few people from whom he expects near total response. He wants undivided attention from those he loves. In his desire to keep the loved one for himself, he cuts the other off from every outside relationship, interest, and involvement, foolishly thinking that he can be all things to that person. He even views the interests and ac-tivities of the other, when these are not held and enjoyed together, as rivals to be eliminated from the field. And in a similar way, he limits his own world. Cut off thus from the sources of growth, they both die of malnutrition. That is, if they are not first destroyed by the suspicion and jealousy which inevitably plague such possessive relationships. Clinging love, so different from simple love, is a cancer which leaves its host blinded or distraught. How different is the non-possessive person! He fears the human tendency to suffocate loved ones, and therefore he is pleased when the other develops new, outside relationships and interests, knowing that they are the sources of life and growth. He fears as well his tendency to suffocate himself. He knows it is important that he never stop growing in love, that he not cease to meet and commune with the different people life brings into his world. Without denying the special importance of long-standing friendships and loves, the non-possessive person values the opportunities to commune with many people in a lifetime. As he grows in maturity, he finds that it becomes progressively easier for him to let down his defenses, to give and elicit trust and spontaneity in others, to communicate as a person to a person. In other words, he grows in the ability to love. A clarification may be necessary here: at first, the suggestions in this sec-tion might seem to reject the possibility or value of permanent relationships, especially marriage. But a call for non-possessive love should not be confused with an advocacy for that non-responsible form of love which is delighted to be freed from any kind of commitment. In every friendship and romance one takes upon himself responsibilities to the other which perdure even after that mysterious, uncontrollable attraction we call love has passed on. Which is to say that the relationship of friendship or marriage is more than simply a form of intimate intercommunion. In view of this analysis, the vow of chastity might be seen as follows: by the vow of chastity a religious promises not only to live a chaste, unmarried life, but pledges as well his or her intention to eradicate the strong, "natural" 22a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 propensity toward possessive love and to overcome the "natural" propensity to restrict love and care to a few people over whom he or she can claim an ex-clusive priority. Celibacy is a call to be constantly open to relationship, to be ready to befriend any person met with a non-demanding love. Far from a pledge to live in isolation from human love, the vow of celibacy asks of those so vowed that they strive to love deeply without making claims upon others. Especially it would ask them to fuse this freedom with a concern for the lonely, the unattractive, the fearful. Because the religious neither takes a spouse nor parents children, he or she avoids the temptation to center all one's love and care upon a few people, and the temptation to regard spouse and children as people over whom one has a right to demand love. By opting to live a com-munity life, the religious places himself or herself in a milieu where both the joys and responsibilities of multirelationship are encouraged and facilitated. Thus the celibate life style is a structure which should aid the development of an enlarged and non-destructive approach to the world of intimacy. These comments are not intended to suggest that the celibate form of life automatically engenders this freedom so necessary if one is to know fully the joy of love. Many are the religious who faithfully observe the restrictions of celibate life, but who never attain its spirit: whose relationships with friends or students or colleagues are characterized by ownership, exclusivity, jealousy, and all the concomitant signs of possessiveness. Many are the religious who never find througl~ their celibate life the freedom to enter easily int6 warm, redemptive relationships, who never realize in their lives the truth of the maxim that religious are called to parent thousands. In summary: the vow of chastity has traditionally been presented in terms of sacrifice, a sacrifice which was valued because human relationships were thought to interfere unnecessarily with the search for God or the demands of the apostolate. There is, of course, truth in this argument: as we have seen, love can give birth to a possessiveness which does interfere with a person's service to God and neighbor. The vow might better be supported by a spirituality which differentiates between possessive and non-possessive relationships, which knows that love can be both the source of salvation and the source of destruc-tion. The celibate life, then, is valued, not because it involves renunciation but because it can be a step towai'd the ability to love without that possessiveness which weakens or destroys the consciousness which we call love. The Vow of Poverty Repeatedly in Christian hist6ry, there arose the temptation to embrace Manicheism: to see the world and its joys as the creation of an evil spirit and as traps for the human soul. Against this heresy, orthodox Christian theology has insisted that the God who created man's spirit also created the material world, and that, as the author of Genesis insists, He saw it, and found it to be good. Orthodox spirituality teaches the Christian that he can discover the God of the Gospels reflected in His creation: through the beauty of the world, through the joys which it brings, one meets and touches the sacred. Sensitivity to the beauty Non-pissessiveness and the Religious Vows / 229 of life is'a drive, an important ,one, by which a person can taste and see the goodness of God. The joys of life help man to venture outside his narrow self-world, to discover h~s at-homeness w~th that which is beyond, to understand the truth that one is but a branch whose fulfillment depends upon maintaining unity with the Vine. He who islinsensitive to beauty, whose mind cannot be moved by the complex-powerful-fragile world is indeed a poor man, dis-possessed of a key which can fr~e him from the prison of alienation and from the illusion of i,n, dividualism. ,~s the Christian learns daily when gathered around the Lord s Table, God [is to be found in His world, in the common bread and wine¯ But enjoyment of the world and its pleasures easily parents a possessiveness toward things which is neither healthy nor redemptive. The possessive per-sonality begins to amass, or Idesires to amass, large stores of material belongings, assuming that ownership of things is a prerequisite to enjoying them, is a means of holding onto joy. No sooner ts the beauttful encountered than the possessive person begm,s planmng ways to hold onto the source ofthat pleasure in order to insure that it can be repeated. But experience teaches that this effort to prolong-by-possessing fails¯ It succeeds only in introducing worry, jealousy, and dissatisfaction. This concern for, this worry about, owning becomes so ~mportant that the original goal of enjoyment ~s overwhelmed and forgotten. Time is spent collecting, protecting, preserving, insuringmand these become substitutes for enjoymetlt. In one's desire to hold onto a particular joy, one fads to notice, and therefor~ to respond to, the ~nnumerable joys which prodigal world offers PossessiTe people, people who desire to own a lot, are often people who enjoy very httle. The non-possessive person, precisely because his attentions and energies are not being channeled into the attainment or protection of a few chosen ob-jects of importance, is one who ~an find delight in the most unexpected places, I who is regularly surprised by joy. He understands that the person who wishes to know the joys of this life mus~ resist the ever-present, self-defeating tendency to force their attentions¯ He m!ust learn to touch without holding. Traditionally, the vow of poverty has been understood in terms of sacrifice, a "giving up" of the material world, whose pleasures are sirens to the spirit, diversions from the work of the Master¯ A more balanced, ~ncarnat~onal spirituality would teach Christians to be wary, not of pleasure itself, but of the spirit of possessiveness toward~ pleasure and the world which affords these joys. Such a spirituality woul~l teach Christians that in pleasure they ex-perience the salvific presence of the Creator, and that such appreciationsmfar from being destructive--can be invaluable aids to the spiritual life¯ This spirituality would also maintain that the attractions of the material world can be dangerous, not because they themselves are spiritually injurious, but because they do tend to excite the possessive tendency within a person. Enjoy-ment easily gives way to covetousness, worry, jealousy, frustration, all of which destroy integrity and distract from values. It is this spirit of possessiveness--the need to own, the fear of losing, the desire for more--which is injurious to the life of grace and which must be overcome¯ 230 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 The vow of poverty might be approached in this context: by the vow of poverty, a religious promises not only to live communal life according to the constitutions and customs of his or her congregation, but pledges as well the in-tention to overcome as far as is possible the possessive tendency toward the good things, the pleasures of this world. Communal life, where material resources are shared and where individual worry about present or future needs is considerably reduced, is a structure which should make non-possessiveness toward material things a more easily attained goal. By eliminating many of the pressures of finance which accompany a more individualistic way of life, the common life facilitates the development of that freedom from possessiveness which is essential if one is to live life fully and enjoy properly the things which life provides. This is not to suggest that there exists some automatic relation between observing the requirements of a communal life and achieving a proper interac-tion with material things. Many are the religious who faithfully observe every detail of their communal obligations but who never attain a spirit of freedom from worry and possessiveness about "things," who never come to realize that "freedomrs just another word for nothing left to lose." Many are the religious for whom the life of communal sharing represents deprivation, rather than a door to fuller experience. Nor should one deduce from this approach to pover-ty that there is no sacrifice or renunciation involved in the life of communal sharing. Within most people there is something of the Lucifer who would rather be master in hell than serve in heaven. The desire to possess, to make certain things one's own, is a strong drive, and is controlled only with con-siderable effort and denial. But the point remains: the goal of the vow of pover-ty is not a renunciation of all pleasure, but the purification of one's ability to experience and enjoy God's world. Summary and Conclusion In summary, the three vows reflect three aspects of a central spiritual goal: to experience fully human life without seeking to "possess" its joys. While vowing to observe particular sets of obligations, the religious pledges as well the intention to lead a life characterized by freedom from possessiveness--to attempt a life in which the joys of intimate relationships with people, ap-preciative interaction with things, and genuine rejoicing in successful endeavors do not deteriorate into a jealous demand for attention and affection, into a constant search for things to own, into an idolatrous quest for prestige. These are the ideals of religious life. And, to this writer, the extent to which religious have been successful in realizing these ideals is impressive: Even in times when the spirituality was quite different from that articulated in this article, the writer met many religious men and women who exhibited that joy in life which follows upon a non-possessive stance. Loving and caring in their relationships; appreciative and sensitive to the simplest of pleasures; ready to respond to the challenge with a spirit which so often spelled victory--these describe well the lives Of Non-possessiveness and the Religious l/ows / 231 countless religious men and women. It would seem, then, to this writer, that religious life works. His judgment is favorable because he realizes how power-ful is the possessive tendency within the human spirit, and what a marvelous thing it is to see it mastered. His judgment is favorable because he realizes how difficult it is to learn that "obvious" truth about human life: that "you can't take 'it' with you." The Modern Religious Community and Its Government Sister Mary A lice Butts Sister Mary Alice of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal is a member of the Department of Political Science of St. Francis Xavier University, Sydney Campus; her address is: Holy Angels Convent; P.O. Box 1384; Sydney, Nova Scotia BIP 6K3; Canada. The study of political philosophy involves, for anyone who takes on the exer-cise, a study of the term "community." In the process of such a study, it is not difficult to find some similarities between "community" as it relates to the political scene and the same word as it is used to designate particular religious groups. In the following pages I shall attempt to draw some lessons from political philosophy and then apply those lessons to the community life of religious. I want, first of all, to examine the senses in which the word "community" is used. Then I shall try to apply these findings to "religious communit.y" and specifically to the modern religious community. Finally, I shall look at a few aspects of the methods of governing a modern religious community. Community in Political Thought From the very dawn of the writings of political philosophy, there was a recognition of the fact that ~ human is created as a social being, that he or she can live a complete life only in association with other human beings. Aristotle and the Greeks in general taught that human life could be lived most fully in a small community where every citizen knew every other and each played his part "in ruling and being ruled." All through the history of political theory we recognize the inevitable conflict which must arise between the individual, on the one hand, and the group on the other. Even in philosophy itself, we speak of the whole as composed of heterogeneous parts. The smallest organisms contain 232 The Modern Religious Community and Its Government / 233 cells which strain to go off on their own and we need never be surprised if clusters of human beings living in communities will be less compact, since they are larger and looser. St. Thomas Aquinas and Medieval philosophers in general addressed themselves to the problem of the whole and the parts; that is, to the realization that individual members of any community may be for greater integration or for greater separateness simply because of their individual temperaments. The ones who are for greater integration seek security first; those for greater separateness may be simply moved by a spirit of adventure. For others, the side they choose may depend partly on the theory they hold regarding the nature of the group itself. These ask the question: Is the community a means of supplementing what the individual can do for himself or is it an organic body with a life of its own, in some sense beyond the life of the individual member? This is the question which is posed for the students of political theory. Just to illustrate how one pursues this problem, let us consider a few lines from a text in political thought describing the te~ichings of nineteenth century liberal theorists. The text reads: In the language of Emmanuel Kant, a community is a "Kingdom of Ends." A political problem . . . is a problem in human relations, to be solved with a mutual recognition of rights and obligations, with self-restraint on both sides. Within such a relationship, issues and disagreements will evidently be perennial. ¯. The liberal presumption is that their solution can be found by discussion, by interchange of proposals, adjustment, compromise, always on the assumption that both sides recognize rights and perform obligations in good faith. And the institutions of such a community are thought of as primarily providing the means by which discussion can end in a meeting of minds that reduces coercion to an unavoidable'minimum. They exert authority, but it is a kind of loose-fitting authority which is only rarely burdensome and on the whole is largely self-applied by the people concerned? Religious Community Is More than Political Co~mmunity The above

Issue 68.2 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Mission and Ministry Renewing Religious Traditions Reviewing Outward Signs QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogu~e withGod, dialogue with ourselves~: and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ iocharisms of~Catholic religiouslif¢. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being Church is todqy the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034o639X) 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-Mail: 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 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any inaterial (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 Catholic ~pir~ual~y Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp . Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen HughesRSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 132 144 mission and ministry ~ ~_ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principle,s: A Missioner's Reflection James H. Kroeger MM shares with us ten "mission principles" valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well--the result of his own reflections as a missionary and a meditative reading of St. Paul. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion A Franciscan Approach to Ministry Daniel P. Horan OFM ~eflec~s on Francis of Assisi's life and writings and suggests that the five characteristics that emerge provide a helpful parad!grn for all pastoral ministers in the church. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion Discipleship and Walking by Faith Damian C. Ilodigwe, along with Abraham and the apostle Thomas, shows that discipleship needs deep faith daily. Review for Religious 152 168 renewing religious traditions Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Intrepretation Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ suggests a new understanding of reparation which speaks to the lived reality of the Body of Christ in a global community as well as to the Christian mission to live a life of service. Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition James H. Schimelpfening SM shares his refreshing experience of community that came from a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 181 192 reviewing outward signs Religious Habits Reconsidered Doris Gottemoeller RSM looks over changes of habit and other changes and raises some thoughtful questions about what is now past, having been passed with a view to the future. On Wearing a Habit, from My Perspective Patricia McCarthy CND shares her experience of responding to God's grace in giving witness to her religious consecration in order to help us all to question our freedom in responding to God's grace in our own call. departments 204 Scr.ipture Scope: The Gospel of St. Paul 208 Canonical Counsel: Response to the Role of Law in the Church 214 Book Reviews 68.2 2009 prisms 116 T celebration of the Pauline Year has stimulated a large number of books on the person and writings of St. Paul. As a theologian I have been most taken by the importance of the Holy Spirit in Paul's Letters. In dogmatic development, it will take a few centuries before the church can articulate a theology of the Trinitarian God, and so Paul's writings about the working of the Spirit are all the more arresting. One of the titles that we give to the Holy Spirit in our Nicene creed is "Giver of life." That title is one of the best summaries for how Paul describes the Spirit in the life of the individual Christian and of the Christian community. In his Letter to Titus, Paul makes a summary statement about how much the Spirit is truly the Giver of life. "[God] saved us through the bath of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he richly poured out on us through Jesus Christ our savior." Through the image of the Spirit being poured out, all the specifics of this new life find their font. Early on in his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul asks "Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" He then goes on to say "for the temple of God, which you are, is holy." But Paul becomes more creative and copious in his description of the Spirit's gifts when he employs the image of the human body. That we all are members of the Body R~vie~ for Religious of Christ receives its most detailed description in this Letter of Paul's. We are all baptized into the one Body in the one Spirit. The Spirit is the Giver of the many different kinds of spiritual gifts, and at the same time "to each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit" (1 Co 12:7). What we might take for granted, Paul assures us, is the Spirit's gift. Paul's example is "No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). Surely our sacramental words, "I absolve you," "this is my Body," "I baptize you," are Spirit-filled and Spirit-given words. But more simply, our expressed desires--"teach me to pray," "Lord, for-give me," "Lord, here I am"--are the continuing daily pouring out of gifts of the Spirit. That the total health of the Body depends on each and every one of us being open to the gifts of the Spirit and so sharing this divine life remains central to Paul's theology of the Spirit's gift-ing both to the individual Christian and to the Christian community. In Paul's Letter to the Romans we receive the rich-est understanding of our prayer as Christians. "The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings" (Rm 8:26). Our very effort to pray--sometimes feeling so dry and empty--is always a gift of the Spirit. Perhaps our own sense of futility in praying excites the gifting of the Spirit's groans within us all the more, and within the groanings of the community praying as well. Paul's insight gives us consolation in our daily effort to pray. From these few examples, perhaps we will be stirred to greater gratitude for Paul's own gift of in.sight into the Spirit as the Giver of life as we celebrate.the Pauline Year. David L. Fleming SJ 117 68.2 2009 mission and JAMES H. KROEGER Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles: A Missioner's Reflection ministry The apostle Paul is considered the greatest missionary of all time. He is called the Apostle of the Gentiles since he was mainly responsible for the spread of Christianity into the Gentile world. The church owes much to Paul for its growth; he pioneered its early expansion by his mission labors and his theological reflection. A brief synopsis of Paul's life includes the following approximate chronology: 5-10 (birth at Tarsus), 15-20 (studies in Jerusalem), 36 (conversion), 36-39 (Damascus, Arabia, Jerusalem), 39-43 (Tarsus), 43-44 (Antioch), 44-48 (first missionary journey), 49-50 (Council of Jerusalem; Antioch confrontation with Peter), 49-53 (second missionary journey), James H. Kroeger MM, a missionary in Asia (Philippines and Bangladesh) since 1970, is professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at the Loyola School of Theology; Ateneo de Manila University; Katipunan Avenue, Loyola Heights; Quezon City 1108; Philippines. jkroeger@admu.edu.ph 53-58 (third missionary journey), 58-60 (prisoner in Caesarea), 60-63 (voyage to Rome, prisoner in Rome), 64-66 (Spain? Rome? elsewhere?), 66-67 (prisoner in Rome), 67/68 (death in Rome). This brief chronology provides the context from which Paul's dynamic mission principles emerge; they are the result of both mission praxis and deep theological reflection. Paul's letters and the Acts of the Aposdes provide much insight into Paul's missionary thinking and methods. Over the centuries many authors have tried to digest Paul's mission thought and praxis, emphasizing the "central ideas" of this aposde. This effort may be admi-rable, but can result in a certain selectivity. Thus, this author is chary of claiming to capture the "essence" of Paul's insights. One cannot compose a "CliffsNotes" or abbreviated version of Paul's thought. His letters were written over a span of ten years; they were based on a lengthy ministry of preaching the gospel message in an extraordinary variety of circumstances and to diverse groups of people. Readers, consider this pie.ce a long-term ad gentes missionary's :personal reflections based on a medita-tive reading of St. Paul. Through an interaction of this writer's personal experience and the profound thought of Paul, ten "mission principles" took form. Emerging from Paul's life and refracted through the experience of a contemporary missioner, these insights are, I think, valid for the church's missionary activity today, twenty centuries after Paul's birth. Depth Awareness of Vocation. In Paul's mind there was no iota of doubt about his calling, his vocation; for Paul and all missioners, mis-sion originates in the call of God. Several passages in the 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles book of Acts portray this: "The Lord said to [Ananias], 'Go, because this man [Paul] is my chosen instrument to bring my name before Gentiles'" (Ac 9:15). "The God of our ancestors has chosen you . . . because you are to be his witness before all humanity, testifying to what you have seen and heard" (Ac 22:14-15). "I have appeared to you for this reason: to appoint you as my servant and as witness of this vision in which you have seen me" (Ac 26:15). In addition, the majority of Paul's letters begin with a firm assertion of his identity as a chosen instrument of God. "From Paul . . . an apostle who does not owe his authority to men or his appointment to any human being, but who has been appointed by Jesus Christ and by God the Father who raised Jesus from the dead" (Ga 1:1-2). "From Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus who has been called to be an apostle, and specially chosen to preach the Good News" (Rm 1:1). Several other let-ters begin with almost the same words: "From Paul, appointed by God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus" (2 Co 1:1); see also 1 Co 1:1, Ep 1:1, Col 1:1, Ph 1:1, and others. Writing to the Corinthians about Christ's resur-rection, Paul categorically states: "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, since I persecuted the church of God, I hardly deserve the name apostle; but by God's grace that is what I am, and the grace that he gave me has not been fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). Radical Commitment to Christ. Paul's experience on the Damascus road was, in fact, only the starting point of a lifelong relationship; mission envisions a totally Christ-centered life. Paul expresses this in various ways: "Life to me, of course, is Christ" (Ph 1:21). "None of us live to ourselves, and none of us die Review for Religious to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's" (Rm 14:7-8). "I have been crucified with Christ, and I live now not with my own life, but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:19-20). All of Paul's writings speak of his love for Christ, his identification with Christ. So intimate was his rela-tionship that he could even advise the Corinthians: "Imitate me as I imitate Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul tells the Thessalonians that they can follow his example: "You observed the sort of life we lived when we were with you, which was for your instruction; you were led to become imitators of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:5-6). Paul, writing to the Philippians, makes a moving com-parison of his previous life to his newfound existence in Christ: "I believe nothing can happen that will out-weigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:8-9). Voluntary Acceptance of Suffering Not relying on words alone, the apostle Paul preached the gospel by his life and example. In a par-ticular way, vulnerability and acceptance of the cross authen-ticate mission. In imitation of Christ who gave himself up to death even for sinners (Rm 5:8), Paul considers his suffering for the sake of the gospel to be a participa-tion in Christ's sufferings (2 Co 1:5-7). Paul saw him-self as sharing in Christ's kenosis (Ph 2:6-11). Writing to Timothy he says: "Join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling" (2 Tm 1:8-9). 121 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯Paul'$ Dynamic Mission Principles Paul recounts his numerous trials in the service of the gospel; he mentions his imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks, travels, robberies, hard labor, sleeplessness, hunger, thirst, and nakedness (see 2 Co 11:23-27). Paul also mentions that he had to bear "a thorn in the flesh" (2 Co 12:7). Yet, he notes, "I am quite content with my weaknesses, and with insults, hardships, persecutions, and the agonies I go through for Christ's sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong" (2 Co 12:10). Of course, this vulnerability is intimately linked with the paradox of the cross: "Continually we carry in our bod-ies the.dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may also be revealed" (2 Co 4:10). Like Paul, all missionaries need to say, "May I never boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ga 6:14). Insightful Mission Methods One can affirm that all Paul's energies were mission-focused, yet one can also point out that he employed dis-tinct methods to achieve his purposes. Mission demands creative, inculturated, ever-renewed approaches to evange-lization. Paul sought various occasions which would facilitate his proclamation; he attempted to connect his preaching with people's daily lives and worldview. Paul's approach at Ephesus (Ac 19) is exemplary; he would preach in a synagogue or a nearby house and attempt to link th~ Jewish faith with Christian revelation (see Ac 13:5 & 14, 14:1, 17:1). Acts 17:22-31 narrates Paul's famous speech in the Areopagus, the central assembly place in Athens, the cultural capital of the Greek islands. Paul mentions their altar to an unknown god; he refers to the philoso-pher- poet Epimenides (vv. 23 & 28). Although many mocked Paul, his intelligent method won some followers Revie~v for Religious for Christ. Paul, the "practical" missioner, moved from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from the unknown to the known. Pope John Paul II has exhorted missionaries to move into new mission frontiers, "the modern equiva-lents of the Areopagus" (Redemptoris missio, §37). Paul's missionary sensitivities are manifested in his conviction that adaptation (inculturation, in today's parlance) is essential when mission meets a new situa-tion (Ac 15). He vigorously opposed the imposition of Jewish legal traditions, cultural observations, or external religious practices on Gentile Christians; these could hinder the spread of the gospel into the Gentile world. Paul even withstood James in Jerusalem (Ac 15) and Peter in Antioch (Ga 2:11-14). Paul articulates his "inculturated" method of becom-ing "all things to everyone" (1 Co 9:19-23). He adapts himself to the Jews, to those outside the law, and to the weak. His vision is crystal clear: "I have made myself the slave of everyone so as to win as many as I could. ¯. I made myself all things to everyone in order to save some at any cost; and I still do this, for the sake of the gospel, to have a share in its blessings." Urgent Gospel Proclamation ~. Paul did not understand "preaching" as giving a spir-itual reflection in a liturgical assembly. Integral procla-mation means heralding an urgent message from God that profoundly affects the destiny of all humankind. Mission has lost none of its urgency in the contem-porary world. Paul's words possess an authentic ring-- even in our ears today: "For, if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!" (1 Co 9:16). For all Christians, evangelization must be a 123 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles "daily preoccupation" (2 Co 11:28). As Pope Paul VI noted, "the presentation of the gospel message is not an optional contribution for the church. It is a duty incumbent on her by the command of the Lord Jesus" (Evangelii nuntiandi, §5). This Pauline "mission principle" is actually a call for an examination of conscience on the part of the church. Have many local churches placed too much emphasis on administrative efficiency, pastoral management, eco-nomic accountability, liturgical practice, canonical and catechetical orthodoxy--all to the detriment of dynamic programs of renewed evangelization? Have inward (ad intra) concerns vitiated the church's outward (ad extra) mission commitments? Paul's words contain a challenge to all churches and religious communities: "All the way along, from Jerusalem to Illyricum, I have preached Christ's Good News to the utmost of my capacity" (Rrn 15:19). Paul wrote these encouraging words to Timothy: "Make the preaching of the Good News your life's work, in thoroughgoing service" (2 Tm 4:5). 124 Deep Love of the Church In examining Paul's apostolic methods, it is enlight-ening to probe his view of the church. Paul primarily understands the church as a local community of baptized followers of Jesus Christ; he was not opposed to a uni-versal church, but in his day the local congregation was central to his experience. Mission and love of the people who constitute the church go hand in hand. This principle echoes the thought of an elderly Maryknoll missioner who never tired of repeating: Mission is people. Paul had great love and concern for the ecclesial com-munities he founded with painstaking effort. His writ-ings frequently and spontaneously express his affection: Review for Religious "It is only natural that I should feel like this towards you all, since you have shared the privileges which have been mine: both my chains and my work defending and estab-lishing the gospel. You have a permanent place in my heart, and God knows how much I miss you all, loving you as Christ Jesus loves you" (Ph 1:7-8). When the churches Paul established with patient apostolic ministry were in trouble, he shared their pain; he speaks of his "daily anxiety" for them (2 Co 11:28). He wonders aloud: "I am afraid that my work for you may have been wasted" (Ga 4:11). "My children, I must go through the pain of giv-ing birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed in you" (Ga 4:19). Although the Corinthian community had many internal problems (divi-sions, immorality, idolatry, etc.; see 1 Co 1:10-13, 5:1-5, 10:14- 22), Paul, the affectionate missionary, loved them dearly: "You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all" (2 Co 3:2). "Keep a place for us in your hearts . As I have already told' you, you are in our hearts--together we live or together we die. I have the very greatest confidence in you, and I am so proud of you that in all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:2-4). His writings frequently "and spontaneously express his affection. Close Collaboration with Coworkers The apostle Paul, though a strong personality, was a team worker in the task of evangelization. He under-stood that all apostolic ministry is enhanced through collab-orative efforts. Some few examples show that Paul saw 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles great advantages in working together with other apos-tles. On his first missionary j6urney, Paul was accom-panied by Barnabas and Mark (Ac 13-14). Timothy and Silvanus were his trusted coworkers in Corinth and else-where (2 Co 1:19). Titus was his appointed deputy in dealing with difficulties in the Corinthian community (2 Co 8:23), Among other coworkers and fellow aposdes were Luke, Erastus, Aristarchus, and Tychicus. Paul considered teamwork and collaborative minis-try important for a variety of reasons. Apostles working in partnership presented a visible image of the church as community; it gave the people an example of common witness. A variety of apostles working for a common goal presented a more balanced picture of the church than Paul alone could have given. In addition, the gifts of vai'ious individuals were put at the service of gospel proclamation. Paul frequendy expressed his admiration and appre-ciation of his collaborators; he called Timothy his "coworker" (Rm 16:21) and tenderly describes him as "my dear and faithful son" (1 Co 4:17) whose "worth you know, how like a son with a father he has served with me in the work of the gospel" (Ph 2:22). Paul referred to Titus as "my brother" (2 Co 2:13) and "my partner and coworker" (2 Co 8:23). Even if disputes occasionally arose, Paul sought to promote communion in mission. Paul offers contemporary ministers a model of cooperative ministry. Commitment to Social Transformation Paul preached a gospel of freedom and liberation along with his manifest concern and love for the poor and the suffering. The gospel message of human dignity and equality, if embraced, leads to social transformation. Revie~v for Religious Paul firmly believed in the transforming power of the gospel message, and he proposed to his communities the model of Jesus Christ: "Remember how generous the Lord Jesus was: he was rich, but he became poor for your sake, to make you rich out of his poverty" (2 Co 8:9). And, for gospel credibility, Paul himself imitated Christ. Though he possessed citizenship in the Roman Empire, to show his social concern and commitment he chose the lot of ordinary working-class people and labored with his own hands for his livelihood (1 Th 2:9, 1 Co 4:12). Paul challenged many of the social, racial, religious, cultural, and economic barriers of his times. One brief example illustrates Paul's social message. In ancient times, there were three great blessings pronounced in the Jewish synagogue: "Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, . . . who hast not made me a Gentile, . . . who hast not made me a slave,., who hast not made me a woman!" Paul certainly had these barriers in mind when he expressed the new unity of those baptized in Christ: "There are no more distinctions between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, but all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). All, without dis-tinction, are to gather around the Eucharistic table, that great center of unity. Numerous additional examples of Paul's social con-sciousness readily come to mind. He struggled to alleviate the suffering of the Christian communities in Jerusalem and Judea during a severe famine (1 Co 16:1-4). Paul laid down ~a clear apostolic principle: "The only thing insisted on was that we should remember to help the poor, as indeed I was anxious to do" (Ga 2:10). Paul converted the runaway slave Onesimus and then demanded that he be accepted "no longer as a slave but something much bet-il, 27 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles ter than a slave, a beloved brother" (Phm 16). In a word, Paul preached authentic liberation: "When Christ freed us, he meant us to remain free" (Ga 5:1). 128 Effective, Exemplary Lifestyle The apostle Paul was always careful that .his per-sonal life would encourage and facilitate the spread of the gospel and never become counterproductive. The witness of a Cbristian life is the first and oj~en most effective proclamation of the gospel. When Paul speaks of imitation in his letters (he is not being arrogant), he believes that Christians can encourage one another through their Chrisdike words and deeds. An exemplary lifestyle is a very effective mode of proclamation. "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul commends the Thessalonians because "you were led to become imita-tors of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:6). Paul, the exem-plary missioner, is seeking to draw people to Christ, not to himself, through his encouragement to imitate model Christians: "I have sent you Timothy. he will remind you of the way that I live in Christ" (1 Co 4:16). Several of the foregoing sections of this presenta-tion refer to key elements that coalesce to form Paul's life-witness as an apostle: Christocentric spirituality, voluntary vulnerability, innovative mission approaches, evangelical urgency, collaborative ministry, social engagement. To these elements one could add additional virtues, as Paul himself does in his lists of spiritual gifts (see 1 Co 12 & 13, Ga 5:22). In a theology of mission today, the holistic approach to mission that Paul's life shows would be termed "inte-gral evangelization." Paul consistendy strove to run the race successfully and fight the battle successfully (see 1 Co 9:24-27). He kept his eyes fixed on Christ; he told Revie~v for Religious the Philippians: "I am still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (Ph 3:12). Total Reliance on God's Providence Paul had full confidence in God's everlasting love and fidelity; the guarantee of God's salvific love is Jesus Christ. Paul asks: "If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?" (Rm 8:31-32). Mission always remains "God's project" and evangelizers seek to be God's faith-filled, humble instruments. Paul cooper-ated with God's grace so willingly and generously because he was firmly convinced that he was doing God's work. He asserts that he is only a servant of the gospel: "I did the planting, Apollos did the watering, but God made things grow. Neither the planter nor the waterer matters: only God, who makes things grow" (1 Co 3:6-7). Paul lived his apostolic life with great confidence and full trust in God, whom we can call "Abba" (Rm 8:15, Ga 4:6-7). His life wasfilled with many sufferings, hardships, and challenges; he even faced Spirit-given "roadblocks" in his missionary journeys (Ac 16:6-10). Fully convinced that his life and mission were dependent totally on God and the Spirit's guidance, Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. "By the grace of God I am what I am . I worked harder than any of them--though it was not I, but the Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. 129 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles grace of God that is with me" (1 .Co 15:10). Paul asserts: "The love of Christ urges us on" (2 Co 5:14), "I can do all things in him who strengthens me" (Ph 4:13), "The Spirit comes to help us in our weakness" (Rm 8:26). Paul was a man of faith. The dynamic aposde Paul is undoubtedly the great-est missionary of all time. Based on his mission experi-ence and profound theological insights, this presentation has proposed ten "mission principles," valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well. Paul burned' with the flame of God's love that was enkindled in his heart at his conversion; that flame pervaded his whole existence, even to the final hour of his martyrdom in Rome. It is good for us to notice that, even in the face of all the afflictions and sufferings he endured, Paul was a fulfilled, joyful, Spirit-guided missioner. Paul over-flowed with the Good News, and spread God's saving love everywhere. His awareness of God's transforming grace given to him in abundant measure enabled him to joyfully proclaim Jesus as Lord (see 1 Co 15:10). Paul, exemplifying a genuinely missionary attitude, was filled with deep joy, not because of personal grati-fication or external success, but because he saw many communities accept the person of Jesus. He wrote to the Philippians: "My brothers and dear friends, do not give way but remain faithful in the Lord. I miss you very much, dear friends; you are my joy and my crown" (Ph 4:1). To the Thessalonians Paul wrote: "What do you think is our pride and our joy? You are; and you will be the crown of which we shall be proudest in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes; you are our pride and our joy" (1 Th 2:19-20). The Corinthians received this message from Paul: "I have the very great-est confidence in you, and I~ am so proud of you that in Review for Religious all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:4). Paul's exhortations need to be heard by the mission-ary church today: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice" (Ph 4:4). "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Th 5:16- 18). "My brothers, rejoice in the Lord" (Ph 3:1). "Shine in the world like bright stars, because you are offering it the word of life" (Ph 2:15-16). Pastors, missionaries, catechists, religious, all ministers of the church, imitate Paul, the joyful evangelizer. Selected Resources Alien, R. Missionary Methods: St. Paul's or Ours? Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1962. Grassi, J. The Secret of Paul the Apostle. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1978. Grassi, J. A World to Win. Maryknoll: Maryknoll Publications, 1965. Matera, E Strategies for Preaching Paul. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2001. Murphy-O'Connor, J. Jesus and Paul: Parallel Lives. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007. Smyth, B. Pauk Mystic and Missionary. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980. Srampickal, T. "The Secret of Paul's Missionary Success," Third Millennium 10 (2007): 41-66. Witherup, R. I01 Questions and Answers on Paul. New York: Paulist Press, 2003. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What principle(s) of Paul, identified by Kroeger, most caught your attention for use in your own mission? If you were to list your own mission principles, how would they compare with Paul's? 131 68.2 2009 DANIEL P. HORAN A Franciscan Approach to Ministry 1321 During his final days St. Francis of Assisi reflected on how he had lived his life and spent God's time. To preserve his recollections of the birth of his new religious order and leave a record of his hopes for the future, he dictated his Testament to some of the fri-ars who were caring for him. In it he recalls his conver-sion to follow Christ and shares what it means to be a Franciscan: to live the gospel. Today Francis continues to inspire people in all parts of the world and every faith tradition. His Testament is the last of a series of writings by Francis that reveals his vision of ministry. Beyond what people often call "Franciscan spirituality" stands his vision of ministry in the church. It is a manner of living in the world, being in relationship with God, and serving our sisters and brothers. The year 2009 marks the eight-hundredth anniver-sary of the order's founding. As we celebrate this mile- Daniel P. Horan OFM has written on Franciscan theology, philosophy, and spirituality. His address is Holy Name College; 1650 St. Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. horandp@gmail.com Review for Religious stone, it is good to consider Francis's example and reflect on his vision, which serves as inspiration and guidance. In this article I will highlight five themes that emerge from Francis's writings to form a ministerial ethos that is particularly Franciscan. One does not need to be a Franciscan, a Poor Clare, or a secular Franciscan to adopt a Franciscan approach. Any pastoral minister can benefit from the insights of one of the greatest saints and reformers in Christian history. Everything Done in Humble Service When Francis started his work for God, having renounced his worldly possessions and aspirations, he did penance and followed the gospel as he felt led by God.~ Soon others sought to imitate his efforts and fol-low him in what Franciscan scholar Thadd~e Matura calls the "Franciscan project." This project, while ini-tially not the goal of Francis himself, quickly grew to include thousands of friars and hundreds of sisters,z What made them follow in the footsteps of this medi-eval man and renounce property and adhere to a life of obedience and chaste celibacy? One element of the Franciscan project that emerged early was radical adherence to subordinate positions in society. Francis's early followers saw the humility of a man who left behind the life of a wealthy merchant to live among lepers and outcasts. In his Earlier Rule, Francis had instructed them where among the social strata they should strive to live. He says, "Let no one be called 'prior,' but let everyone in general be called a lesser brother. Let one wash the feet of the other." Francis continued by enjoining his brothers to be "lesser ones" always "subject to all.''3 This spirit of humility is the foundation for all the 133 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~ Franciscan ~pproach to Ministry characteristics of a Franciscan ministry. Francis was less concerned about what someone did in the world than about how someone did it. Here we see his admiration for Christ's humility as central to his spirituality: to be Francis was less cbncerned about what someonedid in the world than how someone did: a Franciscan is to live the gospel by following in the footprints of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic summarizes this well: "As Jesus turned toward those around him, so Francis and Clare in contemplation and com-passion incarnate the praxis of Jesus as they follow him in their world by turning to those around them.''4 From his incarnation and birth to his death on the cross, Jesus' life served as Francis's model for humble service. Perhaps the most succinct articulation of Francis's image of humble service is found in Admonition XIX. Here Francis says: Blessed is the servant who does not consider himself any better when he is praised and exalted by people than when he is considered worthless, simple, and looked down upon, for what a person is before God, that he is and no more. Woe to that religious who has been placed in a high position by others and [who] does not want to come down by his own will. Blessed is that servant who is not placed in a high position by his own will and always desires to be under the feet of others,s 134 Humility is a virtue of ministry, being of service to and among people, that Francis often wrote about. Besides being a reoccurring theme in his Admonitions, humility becomes a constitutive characteristic of the Franciscan way of life when it appears three times in his Review for Religious Later Rule. In chapter 3 we read, "I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be rrieek, peaceful, modest, gende, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming." Two chapters later in the same document, Francis exhorts his followers to always work humbly as servants of God and disciples of poverty. Toward the end of the Rule, Francis again reminds his followers that even amid persecution, hardship, and infirmity they are to have humility and patience while loving those who persecute them.6 Francis echoes the theme of humility at every opportunity because in this way Christ served his brothers and sisters and in this way he desired to serve. Thaddte Matura makes a keen observation about the importance of humility in Francis's way of life and in the movement he gave rise to. Matura believes that Francis was.well aware of the temptation, perhaps within him-self, for pastoral ministers to consider themselves better or above those whom they served.7 It is possible that his concern about friars judging others and seeking special privileges was rooted in his own experience as the son of a wealthy merchant, a well-off young man who was disgusted by lepers and people of lower social status. Regardless of Francis's initial motivation, we are the inheritors of a vision that inspires ministers to always put others before themselves.8 In a world that is fraught with self-centeredness and material accumulation, where even devoted ministers are tempted to seek personal reward, a humble approach to ministry remains prophetic. Relationship Takes Priority Francis's way of being-in-the-world followed the example of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic insightfully 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry connects the divine humility that Francis recognized in the incarnation with God's outward movement toward humanity.9 It was in humility that God incarnate, Jesus Christ, entered into relationships with the people around him. All four Gospels tell of Jesus' encounters with many people: the marginalized, outcast, wealthy, powerful, average, violent, peaceful, and so on. Because he lived a perfectly humble existence among his sisters and brothers, Jesus could meet people as they were, rec-ognizing the inherent dignity of each human person. For Francis, this became a major component of his way of life and remains a Franciscan characteristic today. Vv'hile most of the preserved writings of Francis are letters, prayers, and admonitions or guidelines addressed to large numbers, we have one letter that was written to a particular minister. His identity remains anonymous, frustratingly so for many, but the anonymiW allows us to stand in his place and receive personally from Francis his wisdom concerning ministry, a touching wisdom straight from his heart. Francis is concerned about this friar's attitude and disposition, and he says: I wish to know in this way if you love the Lord and me, his servant and yours: that there is not any brother in the world who has sinned--however much he could have sinned--who, after he has looked into your eyes, would ever depart without your mercy, if he is looking for mercy.~° Mercy trumps justice. Relationship remains the pri-mary way for people to understand all their encoun-ters. Vghile this observation may appear obvious, the reason is that we are already familiar--if only subtly and indirecdy--with the Franciscan way of seeing ministry. This was not always the case. The Franciscan historian Joseph Chinnici describes the early Franciscan move- Review for Religious ment as a radically new form of "penitential human-ism." He applies this term to the Franciscan movement's effort to bring people together peacefully amid "social discord and violence." This approach to ministry puts relationship and com-munity above per-sonal journeys of faith and conversion. One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self.~ It ~ is for precisely this reason that Francis insisted that the friars be mendicants, not monks, and live with the whole world as their cloister, not limiting it to a monastery's four walls. Franciscan ministries are not simply good methods, skillful implementations of model practices. Rather, they are a project that seeks to unite those who are separated by the violence of social, political, and ecclesial dissent.12 To stress relationship as the primary approach to minis-try, Francis often used familial terms. In his Earlier Rule, he says, "Let each one love and care for his brother as a mother loves and cares for her son."13 In Francis's spirituality, such a familial understanding of relation-ship extended even beyon.d human relationships to include all of God's creation. In his most famous work, The Canticle of the Creatures, he addresses all elements as brother or sister. In an age of heightened ecological awareness, our relationship with the earth and the rest of creation can influence our ministry positively. We are called to minister to all with a deepened sense of our One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self. 137 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~l Franciscan ~pproacb to Minisl~ interdependence and relatedness as children of God and brothers and sisters of all God's creation. Avoid Attachment There is great wisdom in a mendicant model of life. In a life of detachment from personal property, pasto-ral ministers become less preoccupied with their status, their control, their "things." If a particular ministry does not "belong" to a particular minister, one becomes a curator, a caretaker, one who takes good care of some-thing of value not one's own. This contrasts with the oligarchic approach, a small group's limited vision often preventing a ministry's expansion or creativity. Francis was quite convinced that appropriation of anything, including one's work as a minister, would lead to other problems. His Earlier Rule is filled with admonitions and warnings about the danger of attachment. In chap-ter 7 he says, "Wherever the brothers may be, either in hermitages or other places, let them be careful not to make any place their own or contend with anyone for it." He goes on to say, "Guard yourselves against the anxieties of this world and the cares of this life," and summarizes by saying: "Let all the brothers strive to follow the humility and poverty of our Lord Jesus Christ, and let them remember that we should have nothing else in the whole world except as the Apostle says: "Having food and clothing, we are content with these" (1 Tm 6:8).14 While today most ministers, including professed Franciscan women and men, would find it difficult to live in this world strictly observing the instruction above, the key to Francis's insight is found in the word "strive." We understand this as a more perfect vision of an imperfect manner of living in this world. It is the Review for Religious model that pastoral ministers should have in their work, striving in humility and poverty to not appropriate the work as their own. Thy Will Be Done Naturally, the divestment of property and ownership of even one's ministry leads to the question: Then to whom does it belong? For Francis the answer is simple: M1 good things come from and belong to God. It is in the perfect prayer of Christians that we find the source and purpose of our ministerial endeavors, "Thy will be done." When our efforts in ministry become more about our will, our ambition, or our desires, then we have left the realm of ministry and entered some level of self-centeredness. Closely linked to Francis's view of attachment is his understanding that all ministry is the work of God for God. This understanding affirms and renews people's vocation to service. It directs the gaze of ministers from themselves back to God as the source of their inspiration to follow their ministerial vocation. Francis often wrote about God's will in connection with his own ministry and that of the Friars Minor. In his Letter to the Entire Order, Francis reminds his broth-ers of their vocation and its connection to God's will. He writes: "Give praise to him because he is good; exalt him by your deeds; for this reason he has sent you into the whole world: that you may bear witness to his voice in word and deed and bring everyone to know that there is no one who is all-powerful except him.'ns Matura highlights this thought of Francis when he says, "Anything good that we have or do, no matter how personal it is, comes to us from God, and we are only administrators of that good, as it were.'n6 In addition to the proper attribution of our gifts and vocation to 139 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry God, this thought frees us of the weighty burdens of self-sufficiency and responsibility. Unhampered by the pressure ministers frequendy put on themselves, we are free to be God's instruments, working in partnership with Christ and others. In this way we leave the world of "lone rangers" and enter the community of Christians working toward the kingdom. I'40 Pray without Ceasing A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a life of prayer. Those who adopt this approach are not just people who pray, but people whose words and actions are also prayer. This lived prayer is con-stant openness to conversion, allowing God to enter and transform lives from worldly concern and triviality to authentic gospel living--in Christ's footsteps, as God's instruments of peace today. In a brief letter to St. Anthony of Padua, Francis responded to his request for permission to teach the-ology. This was a new initiative, for up to this time Franciscans had largely avoided academic ministry. Francis was cautious of higher education because of the tendency of the educated to think better of themselves, look down on others, and move away from the charac-teristics of ministry we have examined above. Francis knew of Anthony's gifts, however, and knew that many friars had asked for his instruction in theology. Francis told Anthony, "I am pleased that you teach .sacred the-ology to the brothers providing that, as is contained in the Rule, you 'do not extinguish the Spirit of prayer and devotion' during study of this kind.''17 Even a ministry as basic as training other friars for pastoral ministry was viewed as secondary to prayer and devotion. Francis writes in his Earlier Rule that those who Review for Religious come after him are to love the Lord God, who has given everyone everything, with their whole heart, soul, mind, strength, understanding, powers, effort, affection, feel-ing, desire, and wish. This is not to be an occasional experience or portion of time apart from the rest of life, but the modus operandi of ministry. Later in the same text Francis writes: Wherever we are, in every place, at every hour, at every time of the day, every day and continually, let all of us truly and humbly believe and hold in our heart and love, honor, adore, serve, praise and bless, glorify and exalt, magnify and give thanks to the Most High and Supreme Eternal God, Trinity and Unity.'s This is another echo of the Franciscan understanding that one's entire life should be given back to God as prayer. Such a life naturally nourishes a vocation to service and ministry. When one's actions are directed back to God with humil-ity, with relationship as the priority, without encumber-ing attachments, and with recognition of everything as God's work, then life is transformed into prayer. Ministry then is not a person's self-motivated effort or effectiveness, but the outpouring of God's gifts received prayerfully and gratefully and sharbd with others. Eight hundred years after the first Franciscan began to do ministry in the small town of Assisi, we find our-selves inspired by Francis's example to continue the mission of God's work in our world. Regardless of our particular manifestation of God's work, all pastoral min-isters can find renewed life and purpose by reflecting A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a 'life of prayer. 141 68.2 2009 Horan * .4 Franciscan AIqn'oacb to Ministry on a Franciscan approach to ministry. Humility keeps us approachable and ready to give loving service. The priority we give to relationship brings us to places where we can best foster loving unity among our sisters and brothers and grateful respect for all of creation. Detachment helps to seek the right things, without being distracted by worldly concerns. Recalling that God is the source of all our gifts and our personal voca-tion puts our work into perspective, while bolstering our purpose to work hand in hand with God. Finally, more than just say prayers, we strive to live lives that are prayers, lives that help bring God's love to our world. Notes i Francis of Assisi, "The Testament," verses 1 and 14, in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999), pp. 124 & 125. Further citations of this first volume will be noted as FAED followed by page numbers. 2 Thaddde Matura, "Francis of Assisi and His Posterity Today," in Gospel Living: Francis of Assisi Yesterday and Today, ed. Elise Saggau (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1994), pp. 263-267. Matura compares Francis to Jesus while explaining similarities of the Franciscan orders and the church. While Francis is held as the founder and model for the three Franciscan orders (much as Jesus is for the church), he is not credited with intentionally founding a new movement in the proper sense (see p. 264). ~ Francis of Assisi, "The Earlier Rule," 6:3-4 and 7:2, in FAED, p. 68. 4 Michael Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion: A Franciscan Ministerial Spirituality," in Spirit and Life, vol. 7, ed. Anthony Carrozzo, Vincent Cushing, and Kenneth Himes (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 172. s Francis, "Admonition 19: A Humble Servant of God," in FAED, p. 135. 6 Francis, "The Later Rule," 3:10-11 (emphasis added), 5:4, and 10:7-10, in FAED, pp. 102-105. r Thadd~e Matura, Francis of Assisi: The Message in His Writings, Review for Religious trans. Paul Barrett (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 167. s St. Bonaventure, the Franciscan saint and doctor of the church, later wrote about the importance of humility in the evangelical life, beginning his treatise Disputed Questions on Evangelical Perfection with that topic. See Works of St. Bonaventure, vol. 13, trans. Thomas Reist and Robert Karris (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2008). 9 Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion," p. 153. 10Francis, "A Letter to a Minister," verse 9, in FAED, p. 97. 11 Joseph Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism: Rereading the Sources to Develop a Franciscan Urban Spirituality," in Franciscans in Urban Ministry, ed. Roberta McKelvie (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2002), pp. 119-122. ~2 See Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism," p. 123. 13 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 9:1 I, in FAED, p. 71. ~4' Francis, "Earlier Rule," 7:13, 8:2, and 9:1, in F~IED, pp. 69-70. is Francis, "A Letter to the Entire Order," verses 8-9, in FAED, p. 117. 16 Matura, Francis ofAssisi, p. 132. 17 Francis, "A Letter to Brother Anthony of Padua," verse 2, in FAED, p. 107. 18 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 23:8 and 23:11, in FAED, pp. 84 & 85. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 1. What model or approach do I currently use in my pastoral ministry? 2. In what ways do Francis's insights speak to me today? 3. What characteristics of a Franciscan approach to ministry do I live particularly well? Where could I strive to improve? 68.2 2009 DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship and Walking by Faith God never deceives us. When we entrust our life to him and allow him to direct us, he ensures that all goes well. We may not know where he is lead-ing us. We only see the present, and nothing beyond it. Indeed, even the present is sometimes not clear, and in any case it reaches beyond itself into the future. The present invites to us to keep moving despite perplexity. Here our faith is our strength. Faith propels us forward. So long as we know that God is with us, we can afford to take the next step. We need not be apprehensive. We can be certain that we shall reach our destination even if we have to move slowly and sometimes with some frustradon. Without faith we do not see that God is leading us. If we step out into the unknown future at his bidding, it is likely that we will persevere to the end (see Heb 11). Damian C. Ilodigwe last wrote for us in early 2008. He is a priest and lecturer in philosophy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.com Review for Religious We should trust God at each step, even when we do not know what lies ahead. He shows us his plan piecemeal. An aspect of faith is trust. We can think here of chil-dren and mothers. Usually young children are wholly dependent on their mother. She gives instruction, and the child wonders about it. But this wondering does not prevent the child from carrying out the mother's bidding. He may ask questions, of course, but unless he is simply seeking some clarification he will not get very far. He will not be permitted to ignore or resist what his mother asks him to do. Usually children know, for their own good, when they had better obey. Usually they carry out their mother's instruction even when they do not fully understand. What is true of the relation between children and their mother is true of our relationship with God. Like little children, we need to give God our utter trust (Lk 11:5-13; 18:1-8). Because our faith tells us that God acts in our best interest, we can afford to follow his bidding no matter the inconveniences we feel to be associated with it. A childlike simplicity in our relationship with God is an index of vibrant faith and of maturity in this relationship (Lk 12:22-31). The' Case of Abraham In the life of Abraham we find an example of this childlike faith. He is ready to do the Lord's bidding even when this involves a great deal of sacrifice. Many instances in his life illustrate his utter commitment to God. Consider the divine request to leave his country for another land: "Leave your country, your family, and your father's house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing. I will 68.2 2009 llodig'we ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith In the life of abraham we find an exa ple ff bless those who bless you; I will curse those who slight you; all the tribes on earth shall bless themselves by you" (Gn 12:1-2). How could God ask Abraham to do a thing like this?1 The demand appears extravagant and even ridiculous. Is it reasonable to leave his native place, where all his friends are? He is established here. He has security here. To leave means leaving good memories and property behind and beginning all over again. As the saying goes, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. It is foolish to abandon what has proved itself over the years without a good clear reason. That rea-son would be that the change will certainly make things better. But, for Abraham, the future is a clouded certainty. All that is certain is that he should leave and that he will be shown another land. Regarding the particulars of the promised land, he knows nothing. He is told, though, that from him will come a great nation. That promise appears less attractive than it might because of its general vagueness. Yet at another level it provides a certain motivation because it comes from God, from Abraham's faith in God. It is only faith that can quickly overcome the disenchantment pr0~oked by lack of information about this promised land. Abraham is certainly a man of faith. For, in spite of the obvious per-plexities associated with this directive, he. takes the bull by the horns. He understands that it is the Lord speak-ing and that he knows what he is doing. Consequently he sets out as the Lord has told him to do. Scripture tells us that Abraham is seventy-five years old when he Review for Religious leaves Haran. He takes his wife, Sarai, and the people they.have acquired in Haran. Their journey takes them to Canaan (Gn 12:4-5). Abram's age of seventy-five is significant, emphasizing the great inconvenience of this movement. He is not a young man eager to be off on his own. So in a sense it is a blind journey. God guides him. As is always the case, the Lord does not ask us to do something and then leave us to our own design. He does not leave us on our own. He provides for us one step at a time. The entire picture can never be available to us all at once. As Abram journeys, he comes to Shechem's Oak of Moreh, in Canaan. The Lord appears to him and says he will give this land to his descendants. Abram builds an altar there. He proceeds to the hill country east of Bethel and then to the Negeb (Gn 12:7-9). Although Abram has stepped out into the unknown, he is never alone. He knows in faith that the Lord is with him through all the stages of his journey. And so he is our father in faith (Heb 11:8). He is wholly sub-missive to God, and God does not fail him. Abraham becomes the father' of a multitude of nations. The Challenges of Discipleship and Our Contemporary Situation At this juncture we may ask what we can learn from Abraham's experience. We can learn much regarding the challenges of discipleship. Our life, too, is a journey, a journey of faith towards God's kingdom. God calls each of us out of our various backgrounds to pursue a special life journey, a pilgrimage to a distant destination. The fundamental truth about this is that God is with us all the time, even when we do not take cognizance of him. His presence empowers us to be what he wants us to be. '147 68.2 2009 Ilodig~ve ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith Without evidence we are likely to feel discdnnected, His providence sustains us and guides every.aspect of our life. We need to let this truth have an impact on the way we live our life each day. We need to entrust ourselves completely to that providence. "For those who --~ love God, all things work together unto good." We may not understand just how they fit together now or will fit together in the end, but we cannot doubt that they do fit together. God's love, acting as a redemptive principle, inte-grates every aspect of our experience, bringing every-thing into God's ultimate plan for us all. The practical implication of this truth, then, is that we must learn to walk by faith rather than by sight.2 There is a world of difference' between walking by faith and walking by sight. When we walk by mere sight, we are all the time looking for visible, tangible, measur-able evidence of what we should do or should have done. For many purposes and many aspects of reality, there is such evidence, but for other purposes there is none. We may feel that without that kind of evidence there is no reality. If so, we are likely to feel disconnected. We are likely to feel we are living within limited horizons, likely to have a vague feeling that we are missing something. Not enjoying that feeling, we give oursel~es a warrant to deny there is any reality behind our vague feeling. We decide not to let ourselves be affected by what we claim is unreality. We refuse to be open to it. On the other hand, our admittedly limited knowl-edge even of the physical world should persuade us to see and affirm that the fullness of reality is far broader 148] Review for Religious than, say, the empirical data we have of the astrophysi-cal universe or the jungles of Brazil. We may lack the resources to fully penetrate such real worlds, and the world of faith as well, but we do not have reason to deny their reality and the impact they can and should have upon us.3 We need not deny spiritual reality even though we lack tangible and visible data that serve as empirical evi-dence. Spirituality's reality is accessible to faith. Faith transcends the evidence of the empirical sciences. When we walk by faith, we find ourselves in some sense at home in all of reality. The experience of Abram challenges us. Because he walked by faith, he was able to see far beyond the lim-ited reality of his time and place. Ready to journey with the Lord, he stepped out into the unknown that in some way he could actually see. In time he realized much of the promise he had. received. Abram's faith was his sav-ing grace. In our dealing with the Lord, some tension remains between the way of faith and the way of mere sight. . Sometimes we may walk ahead of the Lord or far behind him, and thus miss some of what we would have received from him. When our faith is stronger, we are better able to synchronize our mind and heart with God. We see better what he sees; we dream better the dream that he dreams for us; we see a road even when our ordinary sight sees no road. In short, our world of possibilities becomes larger; we live our lives more abundantly. Thomas's Encounter with the Risen Lord Consider Thomas. He did not believe when the other apostles told him they had seen the Lord. He insisted that unless he touched Jesus' wounds he would 149 68.2 2009 llodigwe ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith 1501 not believe (Jn 20:24-25). His predicament is under-standable. He cannot transcend the inclination to walk by sight. He demands empirical evidence in a matter that requires faith. The reality of the risen Lord is not accessible to, cannot be contained in, the limited world of empirical evidence. This becomes clear to Thomas when the Lord grants his demand for evidence. "Put your finger here, and look at my hands; then stretch out your hand and put it in my side. Stop your doubting and believe." Thomas says, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus says to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe!" On 20:26-29). Thomas wants empirical evidence in order to believe, and he is granted the rare privilege of touching and seeing. But the Lord does not fail to make clear that this privilege is not really necessary. Indeed, it is argu-able that it is not the empirical evidence that generates Thomas's confession. Thomas could have touched the Lord and still not believed. There is another factor, the factor of grace. One cannot come into the presence of the risen Lord without being positively affected. That is what seems to have happened in Thomas's case. It is clear that what really matters is faith, not sight: "Happy are those who believe without seeing me." Without empirical evidence they believe, and this is what makes them blessed. The experience of the risen Lord is paradoxically a reward for their faith. It is their faith, not empirical evidence, that opens them to the reality of the risen Lord. Faith is a gift. through and through. God's gift, the presence of God, is received and perceived through faith. If we turn again to the experience of Abraham, we note that he avoids the tension between the way Review for Religious of faith and the way of sight. He does not ask for evi-dence as Thomas does. He is ready to step out into the unknown simply because he believes it is the Lord speaking. Faith sustains him on his travel. Faith brings him to the promised land. But before this ever comes to pass in time, faith has already enabled him to realize the promised land spiritually. The claim of faith is certainly one we cannot afford to ignore in our everyday struggle. We need to keep in mind the distinction between the way of faith and the way of sight. So as to realize our full destiny in the Lord, we must cultivate the habit of walking by faith rather than by sight, bringing faith into every aspect of our existence. It will enrich our vision of life and increase our ability to deal appropriately with all that occurs in our day-to-day living. In carefully fostered faith, the unthinkable becomes thinkable, the impossible becomes possible, and our entire life will be lighted by the glory of God. Notes I Even more extravagant is the later demand that he sacrifice Isaac, the child of promise. Here, too, Abraham's response marks him as a model of faith. See Genesis 22. z See Ralph C. Martin, Called to Holiness (Mumbai: St Pauls, 2001), pp. 101-117. 3 Faith and reason complement each other. Indeed, as Pope John Paul I! famously remarked, "Faith and Reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth" (Fides et ratio, §7). 151 68.2 2009 VIRGINIA M. HERBERS Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Interpretation renewing religious traditions The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis was pro-mulgated in 1965 to guide renewal "in order that the great value of a life consecrated by the profession of the counsels and its necessary mission today may yield greater good to the church" (PC §1). Thirty years later John Paul II affirmed that "the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God" (Vita consecrata, §3). In fidelity to the council's call and in response to the pope's call for authentic interpretation of founding charisms, the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus have in recent years striven to understand Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ is vocation director of the Aposdes of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and director of Queen of Apostles Spirituality Center; 800 Montebello Camp Road; Imperial, Missouri 63052. svhascj@yahoo.com Revie~ for Religious authentically the role and relevance of reparation within the Sacred Heart devotion. This effort has led me to believe that, just as religious consecration still has significance in the world today, so too does reparation. I affirm Karl Rahner's claim in 1966 that devotion to the Sacred Heart is not a dated, old-fashioned piety, but rather is quite relevant today. He later insisted that this devotion is indispensable "since the future of the church was decided by the love of the heart of Jesus in dying and depends on the final decision of Our own hearts."' I think Rahner is correct. I would add that consecrated life itself can be understood as a lived interpretation of Sacred Heart devotion, and that the religious profession of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart demonstrates the proper understanding of repa-ration in the Sacred Heart devotion. This community's charism illuminates a unique aspect of God's love, pro-viding for the entire church a renewed understanding of our baptismal vocation (see PC §1). To appreciate this charism of reparation, a brief look at the religious vows and the Sacred Heart devotion will provide helpful background. Let us take them in turn. The Evangelical Counsels Vita consecrata asserts that religious vows are not an initiative of the individual religious, but a response of the individual to God's call: "The experience of this gracious love of God is so deep and so powerful that the person called senses the need to respond by unconditionally dedi-cating his or her life to God" (VC §17). The profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience is the consecrated person's response of love to the One who loves her infinitely. Hearing the call and responding to God's love is not unique to those in religious life; it is implicit in 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart baptismal consecration. Profession of the evangelical counsels does not set religious apart from the body of the faithful as holier, closer to God, or more perfect. It is not a consecration differing in essence from baptismal consecration. Rather, it is rooted in baptism. It is an intensification of baptismal consecration for mission; it is a specification of the baptismal call.2 As such, it is a sign to all the baptized of what and who we are called to become as followers of Christ and members of his Body. "Religious life 'clearly, strikingly, astonishingly' ¯ . . leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization.''3 Profession of the evangelical counsels is thus a rec-ognition by religious of the fullness of God's love for all, and a response to that love with the gift of their entire lives. Through the vows of chastity, poverty, and obe-dience, religious center their lives on the "God-quest" and proclaim that "I commit my whole self, everything and forever, to the undying love that has claimed me for the transformation of the world." Profession of vows is thus "a unitary and unifying act, a solemn, formal, and public act, by which a person takes her whole life into her hands and freely disposes of it in self-gift to Christ and his Body within the congregation."4 Sacred Heart Devotion Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity, devel-oping direcdy from incarnational theology,s Humanity recognizes God's love in the love of the God-man, Jesus Christ, as shown specifically in his heart. The incarna-tion allows human beings to experience God's love in Review for Religious tangible human ways. The heart of Jesus reveals the heart of God, embodied and enfieshed. This capac-ity has implications for all who follow Christ, for "the only Son of God, in becoming incarnate, takes on a human heart [and] we are called to share in this love and to receive through the Holy Spirit this extraordinary capacity to love.''6 Devotion to the Sacred Heart, then, is not devo-tion to an abstract symbol, but devotion to the per-son of Jesus and his love for each human being. The incarnation gives humanity access to what was formerly inacces-sible, God's very self, during Jesus' earthly life and now in his Mystical Body, the church. In the heart of Jesus, God calls us to "become what we receive"7 and to incarnate God's love ourselves as members of Christ's Mystical Body. What, then, does the heart of Jesus teach us about the incarnate love of God? Devotion to the Sacred Heart encompasses four characteristics of God's love: (1) Christ's heart shows us that the incarnate love of God is a continuing, dynamic reality, not an abstract theory or historical event; the heart of God is enfleshed in the body of Jesus and continues to beat in his Body, the church. (2) Christ's heart is a heart wherein two natures--human and divine-~coexist in perfect harmony. (3) Christ's heart is on fire with love for all humanity, both in general and in particular. (4) Christ's heart is an Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity. 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart open, broken heart--opened by the soldier's lance after the sacrifice of his human life, and broken by human sin, weakness, and error. The Religious Vows: Returning Love for Love Given the understanding that religious vows are a response to love and a sign for all the faithful of our common call to share in Christ's mission, and given the understanding that Sacred Heart devotion is (a) an ongoing dynamic expression of God's incarnate love, (b) exemplified in the love of Jesus' heart, which is in perfect union with the Father and the Spirit, (c) con-tinually on fire with love for us, and (d) still wounded by humanity's rejection of divine love even while revealing through the open wound the ultimate gift of his life, we now turn to the modern relevance of the religious vows as a distinct and poignant means of living Sacred Heart devotion. The consecrated religious professes vows as a return of love for Love, as a response from her heart to the outpouring~of God's love upon her. The very act of con-secrated profession can be interpreted as a profound act of Sacred Heart devotion, as attested by John Paul II: "Through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice . In this way the likeness of that love which in the heart of Christ is both redemptive and spousal is imprinted on the religious profession" (Redemptionis donum, §8). Acknowledging and accepting the love of God and responding "in kind" are not enough, however. The Sacred Heart of God incarnate is not a mere image to be worshiped or just a pious practice to be encouraged. The encyclical on Sacred Heart devotion, Haurietis Review for Religious aquas, quotes Thomas Aquinas on this point: "Religious worship is not paid to images, considered in themselves, as things; but according as they are representations lead-ing to God incarnate. The approach which is made to the image as such does not stop there, but continues towards that which is represented.''8 In a similar way, professing vows in the church as a response to God's love commits religious to loving service of the church and, not stopping there, to loving service of the incar-nate Word of God. Our acceptance of God's love in baptism transforms us; in religious profession this baptismal transformation shapes our likeness to Christ, compelling us to return his love by following his example of ministering self-lessly to all those in need. Pope Benedict XVI expresses this directly: "When we practice this devotion, not only do we recognize God's love with gratitude but we con-tinue to open ourselves to this love so that our lives are ever more closely patterned upon it . The experience of God's love should be lived by men and women as a 'calling' to which they must respond. Fixing our gaze on the Lord. helps us to become more attentive to the suffering and needs of others.''9 Interior devotion is thus manifested in ministerial outreach. The three vows constitute a unique expression of Sacred Heart devotion, corresponding to specific char-acteristics of incarnate love. The heart of Jesus is a heart both human and divine, the heart of a man and the heart of God. Within one heart, two natures coex-ist in a mysterious unity that leaves each distinct yet undivided. Jesus' human heart beats in rhythm with the heart of God; his human will is perfectly synchronized with the will of God. The desire of the man corresponds completely with the desire of God for the man. 157 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and tbe Sacred Heart In this lies the kernel of religious obedience--to have our hearts beat in time with the heart of God. Consecrated persons who vow obedience strive to desire what God desires, to will what God wills, to attune their hearts to the heart of God. "To want the same thing, and to reject the same thing, was recognizeff by antiq-uity as the authentic content of love: the one becomes similar to the other, and this leads to a community of will and thought,m° Genuine obedience is not confor-mity to an external authority nor submission to a will foreign to our own. The vow of obedience "in its deep-est roots is a dedication to freedom, not to subjection or servitude . True freedom is to be found in union with the will of God."1' The vow of chastity expresses devotion to the heart of Christ by expressing his love for all people. Just as the Sacred Heart is "a heart on fire," so by vowing chastity do religious enkindle the fire of love in their own heart. Sandra Schneiders insists'that the vow of chastity "must be based on a deep religious experience of being loved by God in Jesus and an experienced per-sonaL fulfillment in returning that love." She adds that this vow "leads the person toward personal transforma-tion in love and allows the person to participate mean-ingfully in the emergence of a new, whole, and loving world characterized by equality, responsible intimacy, and mutuality."12 Clelia Merloni, the founder of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart, describes the "fire of love" kindled by the apostle's vow of chastity as holy zeal: "You see, daugh-ters, wherever the fire of divine love is, it cannot remain hidden or idle, but at once it manifests itself as the liv-ing flame of a holy zeal . Remember, daughters, that zeal must be active, untiring, gentle, and prudent: zeal Reuiew for Religio~.s does not inflame the heart without manifesting itself in works."13 By vowing lives of consecrated celibacy, reli-gious perpetually submit to the consuming fire Of God's love, which in turn impels them to share that love with everyone she encounters in an inclusive, not exclusive, way. Professing chastity enables religious to fan into flame a love that embraces all, recognizing in each face the face of God. As Benedict xvI wrote in Deus caritas est (§ 15), "The concept of 'neighbor' is now universal-ized, yet it remains concrete. Despite .being extended to all mankind, it is not reduced to a generic, abstract, and undemanding expression of love, but calls for my own practical commitment in the here and now." The vow of chastity calls us to embrace each while embracing all, to love particularly w~ithout loving restrictively, to love universally and specifically. Pierre Teilhard de Chardifi described the source .and the consequence of this type of loving as fire: "Under the symbol of the Sacred Heart, the divine assumed for me the form, the strength, and the properties of an energy, of a fire . Through its power to become universal, this fire proved able to invade and impregnate with love the whole atmosphere of the world in which I lived.''~4 By professing poverty, religious make yet another return of love for Love, mirroring the woundedness of Christ's heart. John Paul II says that "on Golgotha Jesus' heart was pierced by a lance as a sign of his total self-giving, of that sacrificial and saving love with which he 'loved us to the end'" On 13:1).15 By accepting death at the hands, of humanity, the God-man sacrificed all for love. "From the infinite power proper to God, the heart of Christ did not retain anything except the unarmed power of the love that forgives . In the heart of Christ are encountered divine riches and human poverty."~6 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through responding to the suffering ofhis heart in the poor of .today's~worl~d. 160 This kenosis, this. self-emptying, is the expression of Love to which the vow of poverty responds. In accept-ing death Christ accepted all and gave all. In professing poverty religious do likewise--accepting all that is given them from the hand of the Father and giving all in a return of love for Love. This is devotion to the open heart of Christ. In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through respond-ing to the suffering of his heart in the poor of today's world. For vowed reli-gious, devotion to the Sacred Heart includes recognition that his heart remains broken, suffering as people continue to betray and reject love, to ignore and neglect the hurt-ing, to strike first. The world's physical, emo-tional, psychological, and mental pain con-tinually shows the heart of Jesus suffering in his Body. Clelia Merloni insisted that "The heart of Jesus, disguised as this particular sick person, calls you to a mission of charity, since the sick make up the very body of Jesus.''17 Clelia exhorts her sister apostles to recognize that where there is sickness, pain, or suffering, there is the open, broken heart of Christ. The profession and living of poverty expresses solidarity with all those who are wounded in and by society, and expresses union with Christ's broken heart suffering today. By professing evangelical poverty, con- Review for Religious secrated religious commit themselves "to eliminating structures of oppression and to promoting projects of solidarity for the benefit of the poor" (VC §89). Only as the poor can we hope to alleviate the suffering of the poor.~8 Through their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence, consecrated religious express their love with the entirety of their lives. This threefold consecration uni-fies all religious communities. Their distinctive charisms are demonstrated by their various ways of expressing this consecration. The founder of my congregation, Clelia Merloni, was entrusted with a particular charism within Sacred Heart devotion--a charism to be apostles of the Sacred Heart. Her apostles were to be characterized by zeal and charity, but more importantly by one aspect of Sacred Heart devotion: reparation. She pleads with her apostles to make their lives relevant to the church's mission in the world: "Our congregation needs subjects who are strong and robust in virtue, not pious statues!''19 Sacred Heart devotion, for Clelia and her apostles, always implies responding to the living heart of Christ through lives of reparation. Zeal and charity are insufficient for those professing vows as Apostles of the Sacred Heart. Only when we are motivated by a spirit of reparation can we be seen clearly as apostles of the Sacred Heart devo-tion. What, then, is the nature, meaning, and relevance of the reparation this congregation fosters? A New Interpretation of Reparation Theologically reparation has often been mistakenly equated with atonement and expiation. Atonement is "an act of divine love that effects a new state of things, the peaceful relationship between God and man. Man is reconciled to God. atonement is effected through the 161 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart blood of the cross . man is placed in a new relation to God.''2° Atonement, therefore, is effected once and for all in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Christ's death and resurrection made humanity "at-one" with God, reconciling a broken relationship, correcting and reversing the effects, of human sinfulness, thus mak-ing humanity's "atonement" not only unnecessary but impossible. Expiation is closely related to. atonement in that it is appeasement by sacrifice, specifically the sac-rifice of Jesus' death, which appeased God's justice and "remove[d] the cause of the sinner's alienation from God in. order to restore him to holiness and divine favor.''2' Taken to their logical ends, these notions of atone-ment and expiation .seem to perceive "the love of God given us in Christ Jesus" as either correction of a rela-tionship gone awry or Christ's willing acceptance of the penalty of death due us. In this context, the practice of reparation seems to be about "repairing" broken-ness, "atoning for" sinfulness, and "making up" for wrongdoing as we model our life on Jesus Christ. This is the vision of reparation in Pius XI's 1928 encycli-cal Miserentissimus Redemptor (§18): "Whosoever of the faithful have piously pondered on all these things must needs be inflamed with the charity of Christ in his agony and make a more vehement endeavor to expi-ate their own faults and those of others, to repair the honor of Christ, and to promote the eternal salvation of souls." This "atoning" and "expiative" sense speaks of a need for humanity to repent, convert, and wor-ship, but nowhere does it speak of the invitation given to humanity to love in the face of brokenness, that the heart of God may be loved and not rejected. I propose that, in the context of Sacred Heart devotion, reparation speaks direcdy of this invitation: "The focus of God's Review for Religious ¯ forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt and more on a transformation of relation-ships-- with God and with other human beings."22 As seen above, religious consecration is a response of love prompted by the recognition and humble accep-tance of the unconditional, sacrificial love of God. Each of the vows has been shown to uniquely manifest, in the light of devotion to the Sacred Heart, a particular aspect of our loving response. Reparation, as a dis-tinctive response of love, is a particular expression of Sacred Heart devotion. It is a response of love to the broken heart of Christ, as when we see someone we love (and also Someone) hurting, broken, bleeding, and in pain, and want to--need to, are impelled t0--respond in manners worthy of love. William Temple, archbishop of Canterbury during World War II, claimed that the motive for reparation is that we not "go on wounding one who accepts our wounds like that; we are filled with fear, not the old craven fear of punishment, but the fear of wounding the tenderest of all hearts.''23 Reparation does not necessar-ily seek to repair the wrongdoing (for we may not be responsible for it), but seeks to respond to the broken heart of our loved One by offering concrete, tangible acts of love. This authentic healing power of reparation '~"The focus of God's forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt .and more on a transformation of relationships-with God andwith othe~r human beings." 163 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 164 was understood by Aquinas: "When one. is in pain, it is natural that the sympathy of a friend should afford con-solation., because, when a man's friends console him, he sees that he is loved by them, and this affords him pleasure. Consequently, since every pleasure assuages sorrow, it follows that sorrow is mitigated by a sympa-thizing friend" (ST I-II.38.3). To extend this idea to how human acts of love serve as loving reparation to Christ, John Paul II said in another place: "In the heart of Christ the human heart comes., to unite filial love for God with love for the neighbor. In this way--and this is the true meaning of the reparation asked for by the heart of the Savior--on the ruins heaped up by hatred and violence can be built the civilization of love so greatly desired, the kingdom of the heart of Christ.''24 For the Apostles of. the Sacred Heart, it is imperative that they understand rightly their mission in the church and their ministry in the world. Their witness of repara-tive love can show all the faithful what their response to the brokenness of our world must be. Reparation, far from being an obsolete relic, is an essential component of Clelia Merloni's charism, and a unique way for her apostles to live their vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience. Experiencing Jesus as God's incarnate love, they are called to respond as incarnate love to his open heart still broken in the woundedness of his loved ones. In respond-ing, they are not merely practicing their own personal spirituality; they are engaging in their ministry. As Pius XII said in Haurietis aquas (§112), "In show-ing devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus, the external acts of piety have not the first or most impor-tant place; nor is its essence to be found primarily in the benefits to be obtained." Rather, reparation must be a dynamic response of love, reaching out to the broken- Review for Religious ness of humanity--at any given moment, in any given circumstance. "The practical good that emerges in the event [of reparative love] is seen not only in the inward realm of personal and spiritual values, but in the trans-formation of the material order through which the val-ues are expressed.''25 Living her congregation's motto, "Caritas Christi urget nos!" (2 Co 5:14), consumed by the love of God given her in Christ Jesus, an apostle the Sacred Heart "returns love for Love" by the gift of her life of vowed chastity and reaches out to ev.eryone in selfless service. By her vowed obedience she matches her heartbeat to the heart of God. By their vowed poverty she is free to give her all to the broken hearts around her. She accepts humbly the gifts she receives from the incarnate, inflamed, obedient, and open heart of Jesus and returns them as her gift to his Body, the church. The reparative value of these gifts lies in its heal-ing power for the broken heart of Christ in the church and in the world. Reparation from this n~w perspective is most assuredly, then, not merely valuable for those among the faithful who may be attracted to it as a pious practice, but a vital mission entrusted to each mem-ber of the church. Reparative love is the love of God poured out through us, incarnate in the members of Christ's Body, embodied in real hands and real hearts. Reparative love speaks a word of selflessness to a world broken by hatred and individualism. It lives a life of generosity in a world broken by selfishness and fear. It breathes a promise of forgiveness for a world broken by resentment and injustice and gives a hand of compassion to a world broken by suspicion and greed. Reparation is anything but old-fashioned piety entrenched in sen-timentalism or self-derogation. Rightly understood in the brokenness of our contemporary experience, repa- 165 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 166. ration is the tender answer of hearts on fire, yearning to express themselves boldly, so that brokenness and woundedness may always and only be answered with all-consuming love, centered in God, reaching out to every one of God's beloved people. Notes I Quoted in Annice Callahan, Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart (Lanham, Maryland: University Press of America, 1985), pp. 108, 110-111. 2 See Patricia E Walter, "Religious Life in Church Documents," Review for Religious 51, no. 4 (July-August 1992), and Nadine Foley, "The Nature and Future of Religious Life," Origins 19, no. 13 (1989): 212. 3 Michael Himes, "Returning to Our Ancestral Lands," Review for Religious 59, no. 1 (January-February 2000): 18. 4 Sandra Schneiders, Selling All (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), pp. 108, 114. s It is important to be aware of this rich history as we examine Sacred Heart devotion from a modern perspective. For a more com-prehensive examination of the history of the devotion, see Timothy O'Donnell's Heart of the Redeemer (Manassas, Virginia: Trinity Communications, 1989) and Joseph Stierli's Heart of the Saviour: A Symposium on Devotion to the Sacred Heart (New York: Herder and Herder, 1958). 6john Paul II, "Letter to Bishop Raymond Seguy, Bishop of Autun, Chalon, and Macon, June 22, 1990," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, ed. Carl J. Moell SJ (New York: Crossroad, 2004), p. 210. 7 Augustine, Sermons on the New Testament 7(7). s Thomas Aquinas, ST 1/-1/.81.3 ad 3. See Pius XII, Haurietis aquas (1956), §103. 9 Benedict xvI, letter on the fiftieth anniversary of Haurietis aquas, 15 May 2006. 10 Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est (2005), §17. '~ Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 109. ,2 Schneiders, New Wineskins, pp. 105, 106. ~3 Clelia Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, ed. Pierpaula de Farias (Rome: privately printed, 1992), pp. 167, t73. Review for Religious ,4 Quoted in Christopher E Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery of Christ (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday Image, 1968), pp. 28-29. 15 John Paul II, "Homily during Sacred Heart devotions and beati-fication of Father Stefan Wincenty Frelichowski, at the Aviation Club in Torun, June 7, 1999," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 112. 16 John Paul II, "Homily at the Polyclinic of the Agostino Gemelli University Hospital in Rome, June 28, 1984," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 47. 17 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 167. ,s James Alison poignandy elucidates this idea with his concept of the "intelligence of the victim." See Knowing Jesus (London: Ashford Colour Press, 1998). 19 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 334. 20 Kenneth E Dougherty, "Atonement," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed. (Detroit: Gale, 2003), vol. 1, p. 837. 21 Lucien Richard, "Expiation (in Theology)," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed., vol. 5, p. 565. 22 L. Gregory Jones, "The Craft of Forgiveness," Theology Today 50, no. 3 (October 1993): 356. 23 William Temple, The Faith and Modern Thought, quoted in Leonard Hodgson, The Doctrine of Atonement (New York: Scribners, 1951), p. 80. 24 See the letter of John Paul II to Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach sJ on the Canonization of Blessed Claude la Colombi~re SJ, in UOsservatore Romano, English edition, 27 October 1986, and referred to by Benedict xvI (see note 9 above). 25 G.W.C. Thomas, "Reparation: The Sevenfold Pattern of Redemption," Church Quarterly Review 158, no. 327 (April-June 1957): 165. ,167 68.2 2009 JAMES H. SCHIMELPFENING Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition We cannot change the world by a new plan, project, or idea. We cannot even change other people by our convictions, stories, advice, and proposals, but we can offer a space where people are encouraged to disarm themselves, lay side their occupations and preoccupa-tions, and listen with attention and care to the voices speaking in their own center. --Henri Nouwen1 168 Community is a word that is tossed around a lot, but is hard to define. My own religious order and those who share in the Marianist tradition embrace community as a constitutive part of our mission and identity, and thus we engage in countless conversations discerning its meaning, the place it has in our lives, and how it is to be an instrument of mission. After thirty-five years of religious life and after living in communities on four continents, my experience of community is all over the board. Sometimes I am most grateful for it, but other times it has been quite the opposite. James H. Schimelpfening SM lives at Marianist Community; Meyer Hall; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Review for Religious Recently I experienced community in an utterly refreshing and transformative way. I participated in a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. The Center for Courage and Renewal, partially funded by Lilly Endowment, offered these retreats for clergy and con-gregational leaders) The approximately twenty partici-pants represented a variety Of religious denominations, including a young Jewish woman and myself, the only Catholic. That in itself made the retreats interesting and delightful. These retreats, spread over eighteen months, opened up and stretched my idea and sense of community. I want to share with you something of the enriching, grace-filled, contemplative experience that the retreats were for me. Welcoming the True Self One of the principal resources for the retreats was Parker Palmer's A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey toward an Undivided Life. He portrays community as "one that knows how to welcome the soul"--or true self--and how to hear its voice within oneself. He refers to this kind of community as a circle of trust, a revealing name. Such a community, he writes, allows us to reach in towards our wholeness, out towards the world's need, while living at "the intersection of the two.''3 This intersection is sometimes a daunting place to be. One needs to be with others who, in the right sort of way, support and encourage each other in their moving inward and outward. Often, at least in my experience of community, issues and concerns are discussed, debated, and at times argued; then votes are taken, and there are winners and losers. Tensions, often subtle but barely hidden, may 169 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed remain. As a result, people keep trying to fix each other or straighten the others out. Advising and rectifying implies that one knows what is good for others if only they would acknowledge it. Community harmony and peace become elusive, and passive-aggressive behavior comes to the fore. Life in community has taught me that violence has many forms that give pain and raise suspicion and result in protective walls. Often persons are diminished and given less respect in favor of group-think or the institution itself.4 Life in community some-times fails to lead persons to wholeness or holiness, and when such failings occur the mission too falters. Touchstones In the series of retreats that I was part of, there was a quite different style of community and way of being present to one another and ultimately to oneself. I have experienced it also in other religious and church com-munities, but only rarely, and even more rarely as an intentional way of being together. In each retreat of this series, one of the first things we did was review the Circle of Trust Touchstones, the guidelines for all of our time together, not only when we were "sitting in the circle." We would: ¯ presume, extend, and receive welcome. ¯ be present as fully as possible. ¯ offer by invitation, not demand. ¯ speak our truth in ways that respect other people's ¯ not fix, save, advise, or set each other straight. ¯ learn to respond with honest, open questions. ¯ turn to wonder when the going got tough. ¯ attend to our own inner teacher. ¯ trus~t.and learn from and in the silence. ¯ observe deep confidentiality. ¯ know that it is possible to leave the circle with Review for Religious whatever you needed and that the seeds planted could and would keep growing. To live these touchstones intentionally takes work and demands attention, but something good happens and a different environment is created. These touchstones were practical and crucial for our community because we were so diverse. We were men and women, ordained and nonordained, Christian and Jewish, various races and ages, formed in different religious traditions with different doctrines and creeds, coming from all over the country, and having various personali-ties and committed relationships. It was only by living these touchstones that something new and deep could be born, so that we could move beyond differences that would normally keep us separate. Living these touchstones introduced ways of being together that led to deeper respect for persons and enduring bonds of friendship and trust. It is all too easy to focus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead of expe-riencing what is right. This environment made it pos-sible to speak and listen in a gender and more attentive manner. It is all too easy tofocus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead ,of experiencing what is right. Circles of Trust Parker Palmer calls such a community a circle of trust. The name, in my experience, is descriptive. We would sit in an unbroken circle with no one coming first or being 171 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed 172j last, no beginning or end.In the center of the circle would be a small table with a candle and flowers that would serenely hold our attention, and hold us together like the hub of a wheel. When speaking we would "speak to the circle," not across the circle as groups may do and thereby tend to debate and break down the sense of the whole, of community. That happened to us once, and the feel of the group changed and became charged with something that we recognized as not helpful, not what we desired. We returned to speaking to the circle, not across it, and the environment healed. "Speaking to the circle" is speaking from one's own inner self to the center of the circle, where all that is said is held attentively and respectfully. There is no speaking from one ego to another, nor is it about try-ing to impress or persuade. It is simply about expressing oneself, a kind of sharing that is less stressful and much more peaceful,s Trust is what constitutes the circle; without trust there is no circle. Trust makes the space safe for sharing one's truth without fear of judgment or criticism. This trust grows deeper over time. As I share these reflections, I realize that a circle of trust can seem like avoidance of conflict, blind acceptance, lack of discernment, or some such idea. It might even seem "new age" and shallow. My experience, however, is just the opposite. A circle of trust and living the touchstones allow for something deep to emerge and grow and bear fruit. Circles of trust allow more truths to come to light and authentic relationships to form. It is interesting and even important to note that Quakers do not avoid diffi-cult situations, but instead are present to them differently. That is why historically Quakers have often been present where thorny social issues like justice, peacemaking, and reconciliation are being pondered and evaluated. Review for Religious A circle of trust forms a community that allows per-sons to be attentive to their inner self, what we often refer to as one's true self. This true self can surface in an enviroriment that is encouraging, one that is respectful, silent, attentive, and caring. As Parker Palmer points out, a circle of trust is focused on an inward journey and invisible yet very real pow-ers. The purpose of the circle is to support each person's inner journey. A circle of trust lives the paradox of "being alone together," of being present to one another as a "community of solitudes."6 Solitude and community, rightly understood, go together; they are not opposed. In truth, everyone needs both the interior intimacy that comes from solitude and the otherness that comes from life in community. The purpose of this community is to allow the true self, the self in God, to present itself. Unfortunately, however, too many "communities" do not provide this environment; instead, they scare the true self away. It withdraws into the shadows because it does not feel safe to come forward. We wear masks and do not share what is most truly our own. Too often we do not even know what is most true within us. A circle of trust community is made of people who know how to sit quietly and wait for the soul, the true self, to show its face. The relationships within it are "not pushy, but patient; not confrontational, but compassionate; they are filled, not with expectations and demands, but with abiding faith in the reality of the inner teacher and in each person's capacity to learn from it." In my experience, it is atypical to find a community that has people who have the capacity for this kind of presence to each other. "The people who help us grow toward true self," Parker Palmer writes, "offer uncondi-tional love. They don't judge or try to change us. They 173 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed do offer and hold hopeful expectancy, creating the space that safeguards and encourages the inner journey."7 This is an incredible gift to offer one another, and within this form of community we find, I believe, the greatest potential for growth and transformation. What most people desire is to be heard and honored. As one fellow retreatant commented, "To be heard is to be healed!" Too often in community and in conver-sation we do not feel we have been genuinely heard or respected, and this only deepens wounds and pro- ~_ duces greater alienation. In the circle of trust, deep ¯ .~.L listening to one another, as well as to oneself, is paramount and happens rather naturally. Listening deeply is a nonviolent act; it is an amazing gift to offer. Patient listening, and forming circles of trust according to the touchstones, moves against the .grain of our habitual culture--both secular, and religious. Circles of trust are about listen-ing, expectant listening. This kind of listening only goes deeper with time and is all about God. God is the one who makes such listening possible and who gives us the hunger and thirst for it. God beckons, and we soon dis-cover that all that is good comes from the hand of God. Ultimately, God is the goal of our listening, for in so doing we can discern and do the work of God.s The content is simple, and its purpose is to open us to deeper listening and reflection. We would use poetry, stories, songs, or reflection. Metaphor plays an important part in this kind of sharing because images, allegories, allow us to approach from a slant, not head- What most people desire is to be heardand honoredl , Review for Religious on; they bring into play much more than the intellect. Metaphor has a way of surprising, even seducing the heart and soul, while tricking the mind into taking another look and discovering mystery in the process. We all belong to numerous kinds of groups and com-munities, each offering something unique and respond-ing to different needs. Circles of trust, however, generate within me a longing for such a community within the church and in religious life. Such a community, it seems to me, creates an environment that encourages and sup-ports deep growth and leads to holiness. Circles of trust might not seem to be as useful or as practical and func-tional as other groups might be, and so one considers circles of trust idealistic, utopian, unrealistic, even for religious or church communities. I would disagree. If we strove towards such deep trust and respect, many of the functional things we now squabble about would sim-ply disappear, and other practical details of life would take care of themselves. If they had to be dealt with, conversation and decision making about them would be quite different. We too easily forget that even our busi-ness meetings have a spiritual component and, hope-fully, necessitate a listening for truth.9 The experience and outcome would be a lot healthier, and life together would be more amiable, more authentic, and even more reflective of the gospel and Christian living. Circles of trust and community are not about numbers, but about the quality of the space created and shared. As Parker Palmer notes in A Hidden Wholeness, we live divided lives. We live alienated from our true selves, and end up feeling depressed, aimless, anxious, or angry. We feel the pain of being alienated from our own truth. We yearn to be centered,1° and a circle of trust creates the space where centering can happen and foster wholeness. 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed A Spiritual Experience Although not always described this way explicitly, circles of trust are a spiritual experience, and the retreats I participated in were, beyond doubt, retreats. They were days of communing with God, with the Spirit of God very much alive and present within us and among us. The retreats were distinctly reflective and contempla-tive, with time for being alone and time for sharing with another or with the entire circle. The environment of the retreat center itself was ideal,ll The Tibetan chime would draw us into silence and into the circle. I found it easy to recall that, where two or three are gathered in God's name, God is truly present. The entire environ-ment was charged with the holiness of God. It was an experience of the shekinah of God. Clearness Committees Those familiar with the Quaker tradition know that forming Clearness Committees is an important part of their life. Each of our retreats set aside time for the work of Clearness Committees. I found myself refer-ring to them as Quaker discernment, a way of listening for truth, truth that is .not imposed from outside, but arises from within. This was one of the most important experiences of discernment that I have ever engaged in, most especially with a group, and was for me a highlight of our time together. This discernment is not done fir us, as sometimes occurs. Instead, in a circle of trust, in a safe, reflective space, we are engaged in our own dis-cernment, in our own way and time, with the encourag-ing and challenging presence of people who really and truly care for us)2 Clearness Committees help the focus person (who has asked for its help)13 to walk an inner iourney. They do so by their presence, asking open and Review for Religious honest questions, not interpreting or offering advice, not judging or fixing, but treating the person carefully as he or she looks and listens deeply. There is no con-flict of agendas or egos; there is only one focus person with one agenda. Just as the circles of trust offer a new way of conceiv-ing community, so the Clearness Committees offer a new way of helping persons make decisions about the direction of their life. I found here an incredible respect for the person and belief in the action of God. Instead of decisions, especially the more personal decisions, being made by others, a Clearness Committee allows for a form of listening and obedience that holds promise of greater life for the person and also, in the long run, for others and for ministry. Clearness Committees were a primary factor in draw-ing me to the seasonal retreats, for I was doing discern-ment in my own life. A series of circumstances along with much that was moving within my own heart and soul had made me wonder where the Spirit might be leading me. I needed and desired some form of guidance, and I needed to enter more deeply into a process of discernment, but I did not want someone or a group telling me what to do. I was desperately seeking someone or a group willing to walk with me, providing the safe place where I could be open and vulnerable in my discerning reflection. In my own religious community this did not seem possible. My superiors were likely to approach my questions as an administrative concern and decision, but did not seem able to walk with me in the way I needed. The seasonal retreats, however, with the circles of trust and the blessed opportunity to be the focus person of a Clearness Committee drew me like a bee to nectar. I asked for a Clearness Committee to sit with me not 177 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed Such d cision ,making; demands great patienee, and a strongcom i m n once but twice. The experience was powerful because of the safe, caring environment and the confidentiality, the love and faith, that were present. The immediate experi-ence was powerful, but I was surprised and delighted by how it continued to reveal truths in the following days, weeks, and months. Did I receive an immediate answer? No. Were there "aha" moments? More later, than at the time. Was clarity received? Yes, but much more came long after the experience was over. Such decision making demands great patience and a strong commitment to the process: it can take time for the truth to come to light. Quakers are good at waiting and supporting one another in this invest-ment of time and pres-ence, doing so in the belief that a truth can and will come to light and, when it does, can be embraced with one's whole self. One lets the work of God pro-ceed and reveal itself. This "Quaker discernment" takes as long as is needed. It is exceedingly countercul-rural in our quick-fix, fast-food, I-want-it-now culture. If, as religious communities, church, and church min-istries, we could learn to discern in this way, I believe that both community life and ministry would be a good deal richer. Going Home As a high introvert when I first began attending the retreats, I was uncertain about it, but, having read A Hidden Wholeness the year before, I was curious enough Review for Religious to give it a whirl and see what would happen. After the first couple of retreats, I felt completely at home, and, although I never knew what the experience of any particular retreat would be, I soon learned to trust the Spirit, believing that whatever would happen would be grace--and I was never disappointed. It seemed that each retreat was its own "peak" experience that helped me go deeper and deeper into my soul while being sup-portive of others doing the same. Many retreats, even when powerful, are one-shot experiences, but this series of retreats, organized accord-ing to the seasons of the year, allowed for sacred remem-bering of what happened previously and delving into it once again from a slightly different slant, so that further truth could be discovered. On top of everything else, this was a wonderful ecumenical and interfaith setting that opened many wonderful doors. The most difficult part of each retreat was returning home to community and ministry. Although I would return deeply renewed, I saw that my recent experience of community would not be present back home. Every three months, as the next retreat drew near, I would look forward to it with great anticipation. My challenge now is to live the expe-rience and find ways to invite others into these circles of trust so that they too may have the joy and benefit of entering them that I have had. As I noted earlier, there are many different forms of community and many different definitions of commu-nity. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, "Community is not an ideal; it is people."14 1 believe that what the Quaker tradition and Parker Palmer offer is worth exploring and experiencing as a very practical way of forming and being community. "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (Jn 13:35). r179 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed Notes ' As quoted in Mark Nepo, The Exquisite Risk: Daring to Live An Authentic Life (New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005). z Center for Courage and Renewal, www.couragerenewal.org. 3 Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: TbeJourney toward an Undivided Life (San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2004), pp. 22, 25.4 The word person is used intentionally; not individual. The distinction is critical. 5 Palmer, Hidden I~oleness, pp. 118-119. 6 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 54. 7 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 59, 60. 8 Michael Waida, Expectant Listening: Finding God's Thread of Guidance (Wallingford, Pennsylvania: Pendle Hill ~ublicationsi 2007), p. 16. 9 Wajda, Expectant Listening, p. 22. ,0 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 45-46. " Santa Sabina Center, San Rafael, California. 12 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 27. ~3 The focus person asks for Clearness Committee assistance regard-ing a question or issue that he or she is struggling with and seeking light about. ,4 Jean Vanier, From Brokenness to Community (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 35. 180] Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What has been your own occasion of experiencing the kind of "words of trust" that animate community life? Have you or has your community developed your own special ways of deepening the trust and faith-sharing integral to religious community living? How would you describe it and how often is it used? Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Religious Habits Reconsidered Years ago, when we were just beginning to wear secular dress, a sister friend remarked to me that she never noticed what anyone else was wearing. The remark struck me because I thought she was missing an important commu-nication from others. But, upon reflection later, it seemed likely that she meant that everyone deserves our respect, whether clad in rags or riches, in style or out--a conviction that I share. Also, I thought, she ,was probably indi-cating she is less sensate than I. As the years passed, however, with religious habits less and less in ,evidence, I have occa-sionally thought of investigating the topic more deeply. Comments such as these persist: "If you wore a habit, you'd get more vocations" and "Real sisters wear habits." They imply that our Doris Gottemoeller RSM last wrote .for us in 2005. Her address remains Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. 1181 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller * Religious Habits Reconsidered transition in dress is symbolic of an abandonment of val-ues or identity. It is hard at times not to feel defensive. No doubt there is scholarly literature available about the significance of dress through the ages. Dress as an indicator of social class and status, the change from toga and tunic to trousers and dresses, the influence of climate and occupation, and the development of new fabrics and methods of production--all of this has prob-ably been studied. I have not consulted any of it. First, I want simply to recall and describe this period of change. Then I will reflect on the significance of a religious habit for women and of the many decisions to forgo it. I will close with some questions for reflection and dialogue. Some readers may assume that there is noth-ing to be learned from the decisions made so long ago, but I think that some reflection can bear fruit for our present and future. What a Habit Is Not A religious habit is not a costume, a dress that tempo-rarily provides a new identity, either for dramatic effect or for fun. Costumes are worn in stage productions and at Halloween parties. A disguise is another form of temporary identity, one intended to deceive people. A vestment is worn to temporarily designate that one is performing a sacred function. Nor is a religious habit a uniform. Commentators ask, "Vv'hy don't you wear a uniform like airline atten-dants, nurses, and police personnel?" These uniforms signify professional qualification and a certain authority. In given situations their wearers are entided to respect because of their official function. Note, though, that uniforms often admit of variations. The attendants on a plane may be wearing slacks, shorts, or skirts, with or Review for Religious without coordinating jackets or sweaters. They are all in uniform, but they choose different forms of it. Nursing uniforms, too, admit of variation, even within the same department or on the same floor of a hospital. In contrast to any of these options, the religious habit was a permanent and unchanging garb. The cloth-ing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate signified a new identity, which one intended eventually to make lifelong. As we dressed each morning, we said prayers specific to each item of clothing. For the habit itself we prayed, "Clothe my soul, 0 Lord, with the nuptial - - robe of charity that I may carry it pure and undefiled before Thy judgment seat," The prayer for donning the cincture was "0 Lord Jesus Christ, who became obedi-ent unto death, even the death of the cross, grant me the true spirit of religious obedience." In my experience there were no optional choices around color or design or style, very litde adaptation to climate or occupation. Permission to wear a white habit in nursing care and in the tropics is the only possibility I can recall. The clothing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate sig nified a new identity. The Mandate to Change Before the mandate of Vatican Council II to update, our habit was the only dress we wore. In my experi-ence each sister had two habits, a heavy pleated wool serge version for Sundays and feast days and an every-day version in a lighter fabric. Neither was really wash-able. We wore a knee-length black veil, inner and wide outer sleeves, a leather cincture to which was attached a 183 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered 841 long rosary, and a starched white cotton coif and guimpe which we changed on Sunday and at midweek. Heavy black stockings and black oxfords completed the ensem-ble. Going out in winter required a shawl or a long black cloak with a heavy black veil pinned over the house veil. This habit was worn 365 days of the year, from rising in the morning to retiring at day's end, in the convent, the classroom, or the hospital, at work or recreation, at home or abroad. The habit was everywhere recognizable and, when clean and pressed, somewhat graceful and attractive. It was also economical: the daily habit lasted several years and the Sunday habit for many years. Thus it was a witness to poverty. The design had remained essentially the same for over 130 years. But, despite its familiarity and attractiveness, the habit was unsanitary, unsafe, and ill-suited to the climate in many places. It was also impractical for many occupations such as housework or recreational sports. Furthermore, all of the parts had to be sewn by hand. Keeping perspi-ration from the starched linens which encircled the face in hot weather was another challenge. Considerations such as these prompted the conciliar directive: "Habits should be simple and modest, at once poor and becoming. They should meet the requirements of health and be suited to the circumstances of time and place as well as to the services required by those who wear them. Habits of men and women which do not correspond to those norms are to be changed" (Perfectae caritatis § 17). This directive prompted the first genera-tion of modified or updated habits. Chapters reviewed designs, and each congregation chose one which seemed to embody the desired improvements. For the Sisters of.Mercy of the Union, this transition occurred in the summer of 1968. The new habit was mid-calf in length Review for Religious and could be purchased from a manufacturer's catalogue in an array of sizes. A veil which came just below the shoulders was attached to a white cap which left some hair exposed in front. The habit was washable, and nothing was starched. From Modified Habit to Secular Dress Why didn't this updated habit, which responded to the conciliar mandate, last? Here the story becomes more complex. As the decades passed, most congrega-tions loosened or eliminated their requirements that everyone wear a habit, even for professional or formal occasions, I would suggest that the following are some of the f~ctors that led to this evolution. First, the change of dress coincided with other changes that brought us into new settings and new cir-cumstances. Permission to travel without a companion and to drive an auto-mobile were two sig-nificant changes. No longer~did we have to depend on employ-ees or volunteer lay-persons to chauffeur us to professional meetings, doctors' appointments, the library or grocery, or a museum, movie, or sporting event. Freedom from the need for a sister companion encouraged individual choices about where to go or what to do with one's discretionary time. Some outings were with only lay friends or relatives. Individuals did not necessarily want to stand out in such settings. The introduction of personal budgets was another change Why .didn't this updated habit, which re.sponded to the conciliar mandate, last? 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered that facilitated variation in dress, as individuals could choose where they wished to shop and what they wished to buy. Another limit to the success of updated habits was the matter of style. As long as we were in 18th- or 19th-century garb, there was no relationship to any contem-porary style. But an adaptation to "circumstances of time and place" suggests at least some relationship to what other people are wearing. Hemlines are a case in point. Should they be adjusted upward and downward with changing styles? What about the size and proportions of the individual sister? The traditional habit swathed her in so many yards of fabric that her figure was effectively concealed, but the modified habit was more flattering to some than to others. Does everyone have to wear the same color? Do you wear the same thing for scrubbing the kitchen floor, lecturing before a class, attending a board meeting, and playing tennis on Saturday after-noon? Considerations such as these meant that individ-uals almost immediately began modifying the modified habit and also acquiring supplementary wardrobes for occasions when a habit was deemed inappropriate. The question of a veil comes in for special consid-eration. Questions of comfort, ideology, and style inter-mingled. In the old habit, when no hair was visible, we usually cut it very short for comfort. As soon as some hair was visible, it had to be styled. And not every style looked good peeping out from a veil. Keeping a veil anchored on one's head was sometimes a challenge. More significandy, the veil signified for some a femi-nine subservience to men. (Around that time, women gave up wearing hats and veils in church, and nurses stopped wearing caps with their uniforms.) Some argued that the veil was intended to symbolize virginity. Well, Review for Religious if it did, then shouldn't male religious who take a vow of celibacy also wear them? As we began to experiment with lay dress, some continued to wear the veil for a time, leading to some unfortunate combinations of flowered dresses topped off with veils. (Interestingly, the appearance of Islamic women clad in burqas and veils in Western cities was still too rare to invite a com-parison.) Another circumstance that promoted individual choice of dress was the movement toward individual-ism overall in Western culture. This is a phenomenon that would require books to chronicle and critique both its lights and shadows, but the point here is khat we were not immune from its influence. Religious life is essentially a communitarian commitment, but in many ways--not only choice of dress--it has embraced, or at least permitted, a wider expression of personal choice. While we were experimenting with dress, we were also exploring new ministries, new living arrangements, and new prayer styles. Much of this was a healthy reaction to practices which had encouraged immaturity, but some of it has diminished our corporate identity and witness. Nevertheless, choosing how to present oneself on a particular occasion or in a particular setting can be a revelation of one's personal judgment and self-iden-tification. Looking Back on the Changes in Dress The first thing that can be said is that the changes described here proceeded without a lot of self-reflection. We lacked the critical distance necessary to analyze the consequences of our choices or their interaction with other choices we were making. At times we hesitated to raise the issue in community for fear of seeming

Issue 49.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1990. ; R~\'u!w ~:~R Rt~u~aot!s ( ISSN OO34-639X ) is published bi-monlhly ai St. La~uis University by the Mis-souri Provinc¢ Edu~.'ational Inslilulc of the Soci,.Zly of.lcsus: Editorial Office; 36OI Lind¢ll Blvd. Rm. 4214: St. Louis. MO 63 IOg-3393. S¢cond-class postage2 paid at St. U~uis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United Stal¢.~ $15.00 I'or one .,,'ear: $2g.00 for two years. Olher countries: US $20.00 for on~ .vear~ if airmail. US $35.00 per )'car. For subscription orders or chan~¢ of address. write: Rl~\'ll~\V i:tm R~il.l(i~vs; F'.O. Box riO'70; Duluth. MN 55gO6. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'l~:w vor R~:l.~{:l~nls; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. I)avid L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.,J. ,Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contrib.ting Editor Advisor\" Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. Jan.ar\'lFebrttarv 1990 Volume 49 N.mber I Manuscripts, Imoks fiw review and correspondence with the editor sho(dd be sent to w~a R~:u~;~o~s: 361)1 I,indell Blvd.: St. I,ouis. MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the deparlmenl "Canonical Connsel'" should he addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.°I:B.: 1735 I,eRoy Ave.: Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:\'u~w voa RF:L~;~US; 3601 I,indell Blvd.; St. I,ouis, MO 63108-3393. "'O1.11 of prinl" issues are availahle from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.: Ann Arbor. MI 481116, A major portion of each issne is also availahle on cassette recordings as a service for Ihe visually impaired. \\'rile Io the Xavier Sociely hw Ihe Blind; 154 Easl 23rd Street: New York, NY I0010. Review for Religious Volume 49, 1990 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Septem-ber, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Mi-crofilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1990 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. As we begin our forty-ninth volume, there are some additional names found on our inside cover editorial masthead. Although our readers may be familiar with the members of our Advisory Board from their writings or from conferences or workshops, I want to take this opportunity to intro-duce each one of them. Father David Hassel, S.J., with his doctorate in philosophy from St. Louis University, has taught university courses in the philosophy of hu-man nature, God, Augustine, and secularization for twenty-seven years. He has written four books on prayer (Paulist Press) and two on Chris-tian philosophy of education and of love (Loyola University Press), along with some nine articles for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He currently is a writer-in- residence at Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois. Sister Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D., is presently chancellor of the Jefferson City, Missouri diocese. From 1977 to 1987, she served in Rome as general superior of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, and from 1971 to 1977 as provincial councilor of the St. Louis province. With her doctorate in theology from Marquette University, she has lec-tured on topics of theology and spirituality, and has been involved in giv-ing retreats and spiritual direction. Brother Sean D. Sammon, F.M.S., is provincial of the Poughkeep-sie Province of the Marist Brothers and also serves as president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. He worked for nine years at the House of Affirmation, serving most recently as Clinical Director. With three books and a number of articles published, his most recent contri-bution is Alcoholism's Children: ACoAs in Priesthood and Religious Life (Alba House). With his doctorate in psychology from Fordham Univer-sity, he lectures on topics of adult development among religious and priests, sexuality and intimacy, and addictive behavior. Wendy M. Wright, with her doctorate in theology from the Gradu-ate Theological Union in Berkeley, currently teaches theology at Creighton University. She has taught at University of California at Santa Barbara, Weston School of Theology in Cambridge, and Univeisity of Nebraska at Omaha in the fields of history of Christian spirituality, his-tory of religions, and family spirituality. Among her publications are Sa-cred Dwelling: A Spirituality of Family Life; Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantah Letters of Spiritual Direction (with Joseph F. Power); and 3 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Bond of Perfection: Jane de Chantal and Francis de Sales. She and her husband, Roger Bergman, who is director of New Covenant Justice and Peace Center, have three children and live in Omaha, Nebraska. Sister Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B., holds a master's degree in clini-cal psychology from Loyola University of Chicago and is a licensed psy-chologist in the state of Illinois. She has worked as a school psycholo-gist, university campus minister, and for twelve years as staff member and co-director of the Institute of Spiritual Leadership of Loyola Univer-sity, an international program training men and women for spiritual lead-ership as companions for those on the spiritual journey. She has offered workshops throughout the United States and Canada as well as in Japan, Hong Kong, and Indonesia. As a member of the Benedictine Sisters of St. Scholastica Priory, Chicago, she has served as first councilor and is presently community secretary and formation directress, a position she also held for six years in the 1970s. As editor, I am delighted to welcome these members of our Advi-sory Board. With their broad experience, learning, and publishing skills, they give promise of providing Rzvmw FOR Rzt.~c~ot~s with future direc-tion and creative imagination as we look toward the Church of the third millennium. David L. Fleming, S.J. Challenges Facing Active Religious Today Sally A. Kenel, D.W. Sister Sally Kenel, D.W., can be addressed at St. John's University; 300 Howard Avenue; Staten Island, New York 10301. Iduring the summer of 1988 I participated in the General Chapter of the congregation to which I belong, the Daughters of Wisdom. Since we are an international group with our generalate in Rome, the meeting was held at a large house specially equipped for chapters in the lake district out-side of Rome. There were many adjustments to make: some as basic as climate, language, and food. However, it was only after we had been meeting for about a week that I realized that even more significant than these was the overall adjustment in lifestyle. We followed a strict schedule which centered around our Eucharis-tic celebration and our Marian prayer in common. The casa at which we met was quite far from the nearest town. Moreover, the doors of the house as well as the gates of the property were locked at 9:30 P.M. and reopened at 8:00 A.M. On the several occasions I absented myself from the common meals, questions about the state of my health indicated that I had been "missed." In my initial processing of this experience, I com-pared being at the general chapter to being in the novitiate. However, as our discussions at the chapter centered on the mission of the congregation and the lifestyle of a religious today, I realized that even as we talked about community life in an active religious congrega-tion, we were living a monastic lifestyle. This insight served as the cata-lyst for this article in that it stimulated my reflections on the active as opposed to monastic lifestyle, and the challenges facing post-Vatican II active religious. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 The Active Religious Life Almost twenty five years ago, the Second Vatican Council in its "De-cree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," stated that such a renewal involved two simultaneous processes: "(1) a continuous return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a given community and (2) an adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times."~ In the years which followed, our con-gregation, like so many others, took these words of Vatican II to heart and with much prayer, soul searching, discussion, and, at times, painful confrontation, engaged in the renewal of our congregation. The result of our efforts was the declaration that for us mission is primary. In other words, on the continuum which runs from contemplative to active relig-ious lifel we clearly situated ourselves near the latter. In so placing ourselves, we joined with other congregations in liv-ing religious life in a way that George Aschenbrenner has distinguished from contemplative life in six main ways. (!) Ministry is the primary de-termining influence for the community. This being the case, then (2) a certain flexibility is necessary in order to be able to deal with the de-mands' of ministerial activities. However, such a life may become scat-tered; therefore, (3) discernment is needed if religious are to find, be with, and serve God through their works. Since the purpose of the con-gregation is to be sent in mission, (4) mobility and availability are key elements of an active spirituality, and correspondingly (5) an apostolic form of prayer should characterize active religious. Finally, (6) the com-munity must be marked by a unity which goes beyond physical presence to a unity of mind and heart.2 Although active congregations have done much to make these char-acteristics vital dimensions of their lives, certain of these areas continue to challenge. Frequently the challenge they offer is a subtle one. While religious are engaged in evaluating their ministries and strategizing to in-culturate the gospel message and values, other aspects of active religious life may be neglected. It is these areas which continue to challenge re-ligious, and at times provide the fodder for those who endorse a return to a more traditional lifestyle. Assuming that participation in the mission of the Church is primary for active religious, and that our efforts at renewal in this area are con-stant, a whole variety of questions arise. For example, when we focus our efforts on mission what happens to community? Does it remain one of the marks of religious life, or do we abandon it and become secular institutes? As our communities become smaller and our works less insti- Challenges Facing Religious Life / 7 tutionalized what happens to "local superiors"? If they are no longer needed as administrators, who fills the mentoring roles which they tra-ditionally held? What is an apostolic prayer life? Can unity of heart and mind extend beyond the borders of a particular country or culture to form an international bond? The fact that these questions are spin-offs from the primary question of ministry in no way diminishes our responsibility to respond. As ac-tive religious we need to grapple with these issues to see where the Spirit is leading us today. It is to reflection on these questions that we now turn. The Challenge of Community Living The Vatican document, "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing. on Religious Life," states that: The style of community life itself will relate to the form of apostolate for which the members have responsibility and to the culture and soci-ety in which this responsibility is accepted. The form of apostolate may well decide the size and location of a community, its particular needs, its standards of living.3 This statement clearly indicates that a community lifestyle is the norm for religious, and recognizes that local communities can and must take a form appropriate to the needs of the apostolate. As simple as this may seem, any one who tries to live in community with people who engage in a variety of ministries knows that the reality is quite complex. People come to community with a variety of expectations. Some use the family as the model for community life. Although the sharing of re-sources that community life demands may well be similar to that of a fam-ily, there are also differences. Some people expect to find in community the security of a parent-child relationship where they may relax in de-pendence or dominance depending on their personalities. Others ap-proach community as a sorority or fraternity and expect that community will provide them with a group of congenial companions with whom they may spend their free time. Others look on community as a shelter, a place to come home to after a hard day's work. Sitting quietly in front of the TV is their idea of a pleasant evening together. For still others, a "bed and breakfast" model of community is the ideal. Ministerial ob-ligations, dinners with friends, shopping, visits to a health club, and so forth, indiscriminately keep a person busy every evening. By so limit-ing the time spent with the group, a person is able to avoid the give-and-take which life in community ordinarily demands. At least in part, all these expectations show a response to the com~ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 mon life that was the norm for religious communities prior to Vatican II. At that point in time, a good community was one whose main attrib-utes were regularity, order, and discipline. Vestiges of this ideal remain and constitute the basis for the expectations of some religious today. On the other hand, there are religious whose expectations of community have their roots in reactions against a common life. The result is a ten-sion which is expressed by clusters of people around the pole of group orientation in opposition to clusters of people around the pole of indi-vidual orientation. Attempts to address such tension on the practical level has led to such practices as interviewing prospective members of a local community in order to examine mutual compatibility. Although such testing may lead to a more peaceful life together, it fails to address the basic issue of the value of community itself. Why do active religious live in community? One way to respond to this question is rooted in Johannes Metz's understanding of religious congregations as "the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church."4 The community life of an active religious congregation, then, recalls the enthusiastic union of the early Christians described in the Acts of the Apostles: "The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common" (Ac 3:32). These early Christians had grasped the notion that God is community, the Trinity, and gave witness to this belief through their life together. Thus, the community life of active re-ligious today serves as a protest against the excessive individualism in today's society and bears witness to the fact that to be is to be in rela-tionship. Reflection on the value of community does not immediately solve all the problems connected with the living of community today. However, it does provide the context in which religious can explore the particulars of community life. By locating the value of community in witness, the notion of community for the mission of the Church is reaffirmed. Thus, the challenge for active religious is to find ways of being together in com-munity which facilitate the ministries of each member, and at the same time proclaim the interdependence of all people. The Challenge o1' Mentoring Several years ago when I was a member of our community's forma-tion team we spent a great deal of time reflecting on where to send our ne~,ly professed sisters. Although ministerial opportunity was our pri-mary consideration, we quickly became involved in the question of vi-able community situations. Where were there sisters who would be open Challenges Facing Religious Life to sharing their lives with the temporary professed whose experiences were so different? Where were there sisters who could and would serve as mentors for these women? In general, we found a reluctance on the part of older sisters to become involved in a mentoring relationship. In pre-Vatican II days this problem did not exist. The local superior was responsible for all the sisters in her house, and she was expected to pay particular attention to the integration of the temporary professed into the community. Thus, the formation begun in the postulate, novitiate, and juniorate was continued by the superior in the house to which a sis-ter was assigned. In addition, regular personal meetings with the supe-rior often served as spiritual direction. Today active communities are smaller and less structured. Often, the group is not uniformly involved in a particular ministry. Joined to the emphasis on the personal respon-sibi! ity of each member, these factors have contributed to the demise of the role of local superior. In their place we find the "communicator" or "contact person," that is, someone within the group who accepts re-sponsibility for communication with the provincial leadership, and so forth. However successful such communication may be, this redefinition of task may leave the mentoring role which the superior formerly filled empty. Such a lack not only deprives new members of receiving the tra-ditions of the community, but also raises the question of whether the adult crisis which Erikson describes as Generativity vs. Stagnation is be-ing successfully negotiated. Although some may claim that their minis-try outside the congregation commits them to involvement in establish-ing and guiding the next generation of Christians, the responsibility of passing on the charism of their particular group cannot be ignored. However, some will argue that the religious life of today bears little resemblance to the life to which they committed themselves. They con-tend that they cannot be expected to pass on the tradition because they themselves do not know what has happened to it. Take daily Eucharist, for example. They consider it a must, and yet newer members of the com-munity do not share the depth of their commitment in this area. How can they be expected to pass on the tradition to those whose values are judged not only different but inferior? What these people fail to realize is that generativity demands the pass-ing on of the tradition, in this case the charism, and not one particular time bound expression of it. Their nostalgic reminiscences of the "good old days" when community members did everything together are but signs of their own stagnation. The challenge for active religious is to re- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 alize that the process of renewal set in motion by Vatican II is an ongo-ing one. It demands the frequent return to the charism, and the contin-ual search for appropriate expressions of the charism. The refusal of men-toring roles in a congregation may indicate that it is time to examine the charism again with the hope of identifying its core values so that these values in turn may be passed on. It may also be time to view the charism as a gift to the whole Church, not merely to a particular congregation. This opens ihe way to redefining membership to include associate mem-bership and other forms of affiliation with a congregation. These new forms of membership in turn raise anew the challenge of mentorship. The Challenge of an Apostolic Prayer Life The need for prayer in the life of a religious is often likened to a car's need for gasoline. Unless one gets the tank filled periodically, the car will not continue to run. One immediately makes the connection with the need for religious to take time to become filled with God. Today's re-ligious seem very much aware of the need for periodic retreats and pro-longed periods of prayer. However, another automobile analogy can be made. It is not only gasoline in the engine that keeps a car running. While the car is going the battery must be constantly recharged by the ¯ alternator or else the car cannot continue to run. Thus, besides setting aside more extended periods for prayer, an apostolic prayer life calls for continual prayer in the midst of activity. But, how does one "pray always?" (Lk 18: I). The temptation is to claim that one's work is prayer. However, in such a simple equation, both work and prayer lose something. A brief reflection on Eucharist may help to bring the relationship between prayer and work into sharper focus for the active religious. Eucharist involves three basic movements: thanksgiving, memorial, and invocation. At Eucharist we give thanks to God in Jesus' name for all the good things--be they as general as creation, and redemption, or as particular as specific moments of grace. We remember the death and resurrection of Jesus, the "dangerous memory" par excellence, a mem-ory which promises freedom for all. We implore the Holy Spirit to make our gifts holy and to transform ourselves as well. Notice, however, that this is not the prayer of an individual, but rather we thank; we remem-ber; we invoke. The Eucharist teaches us that prayer is not merely a dia-logue between a person and God, but rather that Christian prayer is com-munal. Moreover, Eucharist does not end when one leaves the church. As the poe~n by R. Voight makes clear, in our work we do Eucharist. Con- Challenges Facing Religious Life sider, one verse: He was old, tired, and sweaty, pushing his homemade cart down the alley, stopping now and then to poke around in somebody's garbage. I wanted to tell him about Eucharist But the look in his eyes the despair on his face, the hopelessness of somebody else's life in his cart, Told me to forget it. So I smiled, said "Hi"--and gave him Eucharist.5 This brief reflection on Eucharist points to the dynamic relation be-tween prayer and work in the life of the active religious. Prayer as en-gagement in contemplation is not an individual activity, but rather, no matter how personal, is also communal. Our communion with Christ is a communion with the Body of Christ as well. This sense of communion finds expression in prayer not only as the context out of which one prays but also in the form of prayers of petition, and through such expression communion is enhanced. In turn, this sense of unity with others demands expression in our ministry. Our union with Christ urges us to a life of service. Thus, an apostolic prayer life does not exist alone, but only in conjunction with a prayerful apostolate. The challenge of an apostolic prayer life is to develop a prayerful approach to ministry so that prayer and work are viewed as different forms which our efforts towards true communion take. The Challenge of Internationality We live in a time when distances between places have been reduced drastically by improved means of communication and transportation. We live in a time when the condition of the very planet on which we live challenges us to recognize our interdepeiadence. Simultaneously, how-ever, today's religious are encouraged to adapt their style of life to the demands of their specific apostolates and to the culture in which they live. In trying to make such adaptations, religious tend to emphasize the needs and demands of the local church and the local community. Al-though such a focus is important, at times it can be isolating, and can raise the question of what it means to belong to a larger group, be it prov-ince or international congregation. In other words, if we have more in common with other religiou~ living and working in similar situations than we have with other members of our own congregation, why belong to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 an international congregation? Responses to questions such as these hang on the value which one places on the charism of a congregation. Is the charism an adequate ground on which bonds strong enough to extend across continents yet flex-ible enough to allow for cultural diversity can be built? Or to put it an-other way, does sharing the past, being a community of memory, so ori-ent us that we engage in the here and now not only with enthusiasm, but with the realization that our here and now is but a part of the total pres-ent reality? Moreover, does being a community of memory so orient us towards the future that we face it with hope not only for ourselves, but for all people, for the world? The potential of the charism of a congregation to enable bonding needs to be developed and made concrete. In recent years such develop-ment of the charism in active congregations often has taken the form of a mission statement. However, the mission statement itself can remain purely theoretical unless we begin to share the stories of how this state-ment is enfleshed in the specific ministries of religious in different cul-tures. Without such interpersonal and self-disclosing communication, true bonding within the congregation will not occur~ and the potential for challenge and affirmation on an international level will remain unde-veloped. International bonding built on the principles of interpersonal and self-disclosing communication stands in stark contrast to a hierarchical model of bonding. In the former, the general administration is charged with fa-cilitating such communication as opposed to serving as the bond of unity in the congregation. Each member shares the responsibility of preserv-ing and strengthening the bonds of congregational unity. Furthermore, each member shares the responsibility for creating new bonds through her sharing of the concrete form the charism takes in her life and minis-try. In other words, the local community and the local church need not become less important to the individual religious, but each one must come to the recognition that there are other local communities and other local churches where needs and attempts to meet these needs are quite different from one's own. Moreover, the full meaning of one's local church and local community can be found only in relationship to the uni-versal Church and the congregation. A religious congregation as a visible, identifiable group of people within the Church serves as a model of the Church. A non-hierarchical understanding of the internationality of a congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the larger community. As such it refuses to allow Challenges Facing Religious Life the universal Church to be understood as the Vatican, but recalls the Pauline understanding of universal Church as the communion of local churches. At the same time, the internationality of a congregation refuses to allow a local church to consider itself an autonomous subdivision of the universal Church. The internationality of a religious congregation calls the Church to recognize that it is at once local and universal. However, a religious congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the Church in this way only if it itself is truly international. In other words, the challenge of internationality for a religious congregation is much the same as it is for the Church--to realize that it is at once local and universal. On the practical level, this becomes the challenge of es-tablishing, maintaining, and enhancing personal, self-disclosing commu-nications. Conclusions If the chosen priority of a religious congregation is the mission of the Church, then this priority will have ramifications on all of life. The challenges facing active religious today flow from this primary commit-ment to ministry. Moreover, the challenges which we examined in this article all seem to have a common thread--that of recognizing oneself as living in relationship. Whether one examines the quality of local com-munity life, the continuation of a congregation and its values through men-toring, apostolic prayer, or internationality, the central challenge is to a life of interdependence. In other words, the ideal of the "rugged indi-vidual" has no place in active religious life. Since many of us have cul-tivated this ideal in order to survive the past two decades in religious life, the challenge to live interdependently is one that strikes at the heart of our hard won "freedom." On the other hand, interdependent living and dependent living are not synonymous. Interdependency demands that we take responsibility for our own lives and at the same time realize that we are part of an intricate web of relationships. Insofar as religious are able to meet the challenges of interdepend-ent living, they in turn will become challenges to others--to the Church, to the nationalistic spirit of governments, to a consumerism which has no regard for non-human life, or the environment. In this way, active religious will serve as symbols of grace, reflecting to all the community of God. NOTES "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," in The Documents of Vati- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 can H, ed. Walter M, Abbott, S.J., p. 468, no. 2. 2 See "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Wol. 45 (1986): pp. 653-668. 3 Origins 13 (1983) p. 136, no. 21. 4 Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 12. 5 As quoted in Morton T. Kelsey, The Other Side of Silence (Paulist Press, 1976), pp. 276-278. The Challenge God, can you wrap your arms around me, hold me tight and tell me that you love me? Jesus, as my lover, can you really do that? Spirit, can you fulfill the need I feel . . . to be touched, squeezed, loved? Make love to me, God, can you do that? Whisper in my ear, Jesus, can you? Tell me You want me as well, Spirit, is that possible? Am I not to be human anymore? Am I not to feel desire? Am I not to remember or imagine? I imagine his pain as the nail broke through his flesh. I remember the words he screamed at his death. My heart is full of desire for him. I am human--so was he. He came to gather us for his Father. He wants me. He whispers to me everyday and makes love to me with every breath I take. He touches me, squeezes me, loves me. Yes, Lord. My God. I believe. I feel your arms engulf me-- Hold me tighter, Lord. I love you, too. Elaine Laws A.S.C. Affiliate Lay Volunteer Liberia, W. Africa Enlarging Perspectives for the Future of Religious Life Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father Shaun McCarty, S.T., teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff member of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. His address is Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. ~l~s we approach the last decade of this century, religious find themselves deeply concerned with and uncertain about the future. The crisis facing religious (mainly in the United States and in western Europe) is marked by a decrease in vocations, an increase in median age, and a growing com-plexity of ministerial needs. Many are experiencing either sadness, fear, anger, helplessness, hopelessness, or some combination of the above! The causality (which I would not pursue at length here) is complex. In addition to a history of change that has marked the evolution of reli-gious life, there are theological reasons for the present crisis such as Vati-can II's accent on the universal call to holiness; pastoral ones such as ex-panding possibilities for dedicated service for laity; and cultural ones such as delayed maturation leading to difficulties for young people in mak-ing lasting commitments. People have different ways of dealing with crisis. One can choose (a) to deny or ignore it with a cockeyed optimism; (b) to blame it on the wrong causes or people; (c) to hanker after "the good old days" (that are yet to come!); (d) to become immobilized and depressed by a fatalis-tic cynicism; (e) to engage in narcissistic introspection and breast-beating; (f) myopically to limit one's perspective or to focus on the wrong issues. None of these alternatives is constructive. My contention is that religious life is in transition and that we need 15 Review for Religious, January-February 1990 a strategy for living in a transitional period. As a first step in developing such a strategy, I would suggest enlarging one's perspectives so as to face the future with hope. By "perspective" I mean the scope or hori-zon of a person's or a group's vision whereby one is enabled to perceive context, allowing for a sense of proportion and within which one can fo-cus attention and energy. Context enables one to see something in its re-lationship rather than in isolation. This, in turn, allows it to be seen in proportion to its real significance. Within proper context, one can then choose to focus on the right issues. It is also my contention that, though painful, crisis bears potential for growth. "Crisis" literally means being presented with a situation de-manding decision. The word for discernment in Greek is diakrisis, that is, "a sorting out." It is that "sorting out" that I would like to address. As all Christians, religious have a responsibility to discern the signs of the times in the process of making decisions for the future in a spirit of hope for the coming of the kingdom. So the question is: What help is available in reading the signs of the times that are pertinent to what has always been a changing shape of religious life? My task is to try to provide some perspectives that might enable a hopeful reflection on what we can expect and prudent decisions about what we can do to help shape the future. I will attempt neither to predict nor will I presume to play the prophet. Rather, I will explore some mean-ings and pose some questions that might hopefully expand and deepen perspectives in sharing responsibility for the future. Some Meaning to Broaden Perspectives I would suggest five key areas where broader and deeper perspec-tives might be profitably pursued. They include: (I) the primacy of the kingdom (or reign) of God; (2) a mature grasp of and love for the Church as "Catholic"; (3) membership in interdependent religious community; (4) different approaches to and notions of the future; (5) the cultivation of a mature sense of Christian hope and trust. The Primacy of the Kingdom (or Reign) of God Kingdom (or reign~ of God is a symbol used to convey the mystery of the corporate vision or dream for the future that energizes Christians for involvement in the present. It is the large perspective that embraces all the others. It summarizes the mission of Christ now shared by all. God's reign is already breaking through and manifest by those liv-ing the beatitudes which results in fruits of the Spirit such as peace, jus-tice, mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, unity, and love. Obviously these Enlarging Perspectives values of the kingdom are not the exclusive property of any group within the Church or even of the Church itself. A Mature Grasp of and Love for the Church as "Catholic" The Church, though not co-terminus with the kingdom, is a commu-nity of disciples called together in Christ to be a visible body united in belief, discipline and worship in service of the kingdom. It is important to remember that the beginnings of the Church (which we continue to remember) were marked by "upper room experiences" where Jesus washed feet as a prelude to Eucharist and where the Holy Spirit descended upon disciples who had gathered in fear and confusion to be empowered for the mission of proclaiming the Good News of the kingdom. "Catholic" is a designation that indicates the universality of the Church's scope; its quest for unity, yet respect for differences; its inclu-siveness of peoples and cultures; and its ability to recognize and to re-spect kingdom values wherever they are found. The term "Catholic" is opposed to insular, parochial, provincial, or sectarian attitudes. A mature love for the Church means accepting her in both her graced and flawed condition; being faithful to her in attempting to personalize the institution as others experience Church in our ministry to them; and working prophetically from within the perennial tasks of renewal (begin-ning with ourselves!). Membership in Interdependent Religious Community Religious life is an ecclesial way of living a vowed Christian life in community for the sake of the kingdom. It is both charism and institu-tion. As charism, it is a gift of the Spirit to the Church through the in-spiration of a founder. As institution, it is structured according to a rule of life or constitution approved by the Church. Though both charism and institution are important elements to be kept in poised tension, I would suggest that sharing in the charism is morevital to membership than par-ticipation in its institutional structures. It is even a deeper bond than af-fective ties with other members. By membership I mean how, where, and when one experiences a sense of bel6nging to or connectedness within a group. I would also suggest that today, more than ever before, members and communities are called to greater interdependence both within the com-munity and with other groups. By "interdependence," I mean mutual dependency in co-responsible fashion as opposed to an unhealthy inde-pendence or dependence. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Different Approaches to and Attitudes towards the Future "Future" refers to that aspect of human history not yet fully here except in seed and about which little can be known with certainty, but for which there is responsibility for human choices in the present. There are different attitudes about the future. Some hold that history continues to repeat itself and that managing the future means knowing the past. Others think changes are going to be so radically different in the future that it is senseless to look at the past. There are others still who feel that, as the present has emerged in continuity with the past, so the future will be both creative and new, but will emerge in continuity with the past and present. I believe the latter is more in keeping with the notion of Divine Provi-dence. As a matter of fact, the Latin root of "providence" is "pro vid-ere" which means literally "to see with" or "to see for"--implying the use of dynamic memory in looking at the past, creative imagination in looking at the future, and collaborative action in the pres.ent. Thus Di-vine Providence may be viewed, as God calling creatures to be co-responsible for and to collaborate with the Spirit in shaping the future. There are different kinds of futures including: (a) possible, that is, what could happen limited only by the scope of imagination; (b) prob-able, that is, given current trends, what is likely to happen; (c) prefer-able, that is, what should happen determined by a value system; and (d) plausible, that is, what can happen by attending carefully to the other kinds of futures. I would suggest that, in helping to shape the future, we need to explore the possible, assess the probable, assert the preferable, and attempt the plausible. The Cultivation of a Mature Sense of Hope and Trust By hope I mean trustful expectation for the future, born of faith in promises of the more to come. Just as with faith, I believe there is a first and second naivete of hope. In faith development, what begins initially as an unquestioning and naive faith, after a period of doubt and questioning, can grow into a more critical and mature faith marked by a second naivete. A similar develop-ment can happen in regard to a naix, e hope. An Eden-like expectation of absolute assurance can be shattered by an act of betrayal (real or sup-posed, conscious or unconscious). If the person thus "betrayed" can for-give and effect reconciliation with the event of betrayal, then that per-son can grow to a more mature trust (second naivete) which includes the possibility and risk of further betrayal. I would submit that people can experience corporate as well as individual betrayals, that is, betrayal by Enlarging Perspectives a renewed Church or changed religious community. Some Questions to Enlarge Perspectives (1) Perspectives of kingdom and Church Are we "catholic" enough in our notion of Church? How much do we perceive Church in the first person plural? Do we view both institu-tional and charismatic elements in the Church as interdependent, minis-tering in mutual dependency rather than as competitors or adversaries? As different (and often differing!) individuals and groups in the Church, can we transcend personal and intramural agenda by focusing on king-dom priorities? Does our grasp of Church embrace a missionary dimen-sion as necessary to its fullness? In carrying forth the mission, do we see evangelization as a two-way street, a dialogue in which we need to lis-ten to learn as well as to proclaim to teach kingdom values? Do we value quality of personal evangelization (especially our own !) over quantity of religious practices? In evangelizing, are we able to distinguish Gospel from cultural values? Are we developing a mature love for that Church? Does such love imply placing a priority on our personal relationship with Jesus and com-mitment to the Gospel proclaiming his kingdom as realities that relativ-ize Church membership? In realizing that discipleship is prior to apostleship? In seeing code, creed, and cult as important, but secondary to our experience of God in Christ? Does a mature love for the Church call for recognizing and embracing the flawed as well as the the graced condition not only of ourselves and other individuals, but of the Church itself? Does it mean reverencing the person and opinions of others who disagree with us? Being able to forgive those who wound us? Does ma-ture love prefer invitation to control by refusing to resort to power poli-tics to win the day, even for a worthy cause? Does it include making pref-erential, yet not exclusive options for the poor? Does it call for building bridges between those who have and those who have not? Do we foster mature love of Church by exercising a truly servant leadership that is ready to wash feet? To share Eucharist in life as well as sacrament? To discern the Spirit of God in experiences of life? To recognize, affirm, and enable the use of different gifts for ministry in the Church? Does ma-ture love lead us to avoid elitism and to shun seeking privilege? Are we comfortable enough in our Catholic identity so as to engage in genuine dialogue (in which we listen as well as speak) with other Christians and non-Christians energized by a passion for unity in love as well as truth? Do we acknowledge goodness wherever or in whomever we find it, in-side or outside the Church? Do we acknowledge kingdom values wher- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ever we find them? (2) Perspectives of religious life: So as to establish a proper context, rather than asking in isolation "What is happening to religious life?", should we be asking, "What is happening in the Church?" And what is happening in the global Church--in Africa, Latin America, Asia, and elsewhere? Not just in the local Church in a given diocese, nation, or culture. Within respective religious communities, do we need to shift focus and to widen horizons? To shift the focus of membership in community from local living to the larger religious community sharing a charism within a context of Church and kingdom? As religious, is there any higher obedience we owe the Church than fidelity to the charism of our community? And, in fact, is that charism the exclusive possession of any given canonical group? Can that same charism be shared by men as well as women? By laity as well as by religious? by non-Catholics as well as by Catholics? If the charism is susceptible of wider appropriation, then is there a responsibility for religious to share and foster it with others out-side their own canonical groups? Could it be that the charism will out-live present structures that embody it? What can we do to discover or to create the conditions for"upper room experiences" so that community gatherings might become energiz-ing and enabling rather than enervating and obstructive? What would they look like in terms of participation? Prayerful mode? Respect for dif-ferent gifts for ministry? Though responsibly planned, with a readiness for kairos moments in which we can be surprised by the Spirit? Agenda with priority on the needs of those we serve over internal concern? Lis-tening with open hearts? How are we dealing with the fear and confu-sion of crisis? How and in what areas can we work in mutual dependence with oth-ers who share our concerns? Where is there redundancy, competition, or unhealthy independence or dependence? Between religious communities? Between men and women? Between religious and laity? Between parish priests and religious or lay associates? Between Catholic and non- Catholic sponsored programs? What kind of support do we need from and can we give to one another? (3) Perspectives of the future and hope for it: Can we resist being victimized by "prophets of doom" proclaim-ing the probable? Are we ready to share responsibility for shaping the future by reading the signs of the times and by making discerned choices for the preferable and plausible futures? Have we grown in a mature Enlarging Perspectives sense of hope and trust? Have we survived real or supposed "betrayal" within communities and/or the Church? How have we reacted or re-sponded? With bitterness? Anger? Resentment? Cynicism? or with for-giveness and reconciliation? With the readiness to enter a more real world? With greater awareness and acceptance of human limitation? With a more mature love of Church? With the willingness to risk in trust-ing again? With the firm belief that, though Jesus has ceased to be vis-ible, he has never ceased to be present? Conclusion Perhaps a fitting paradigm for this time of transition would be the Exodus event? Many, lured by promises, never reached the Promised Land themselyes, but lived and worked that others might? As Sam Goldwyn used to remark at meetings. "For your informa-tion, I have come to ask a few questions!" Perhaps this is a time for hav-ing more disturbing questions than comforting answers. It was Rilke who said the important thing was to love the questions and perhaps someday we would live ourselves into the answers! There might be the germ in that for a strategy of survival for religious during an era of transition: to love and live the questions to~e'ther in hope! Towards A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life John J. Markey, O.P. Father John Markey, O.P., is a member of the Southern Dominican Province. His address is De Porres House; 495 Merritt Avenue; Oakland, California 94610. The authors of the landmark book, Habits of the Heart, present a clear challenge to traditional religious communities which claim to want to "transform" the dominant cultural ethos. ~ It is ultimately up to the vari-ous churches to provide a morally coherent alternative to the radically myopic individualism that has come to so characterize and inform Ameri-can culture. But religion itself has often been both systematically co-opted by this culture, and has reinforced it by providing a rationale for its most insipid implications. It is, therefore, increasingly evident that the churches must begin any wider prophetic role by questioning and re-imagining their own communal life, and the place of the valid insights of individualism within this context. Within the Roman Catholic tradi-tion it is clear that those in religious life have a particularly urgent man-date and rich resources in this regard. There is a growing awareness that any genuine Christian community must be both inculturated and prophetic. This means that the community must define itself within a certain cultural context; it must take seriously and even incarnate the valid insights and thought-forms of the culture. But the community will also necessarily have a countercuitural dimen-sion to it. It will be characterized by a lifestyle that explicitly contradicts some cultural themes and attitudes that are seen to be irreconcilable with gos-pel values. A thorough analysis of American culture would reveal many myths 22 A Trinitarian Model. of Religious Life / 23 and values that need to be challenged and transvalued by the gospel, but no single aspect of American life is as pervasive and dominant as radi-cal individualism. It is fair to say that Western liberal thought revolves around this theme, and that it informs every strain of American cultural life. The deifica~tion of this cultural value has had a destructive impact on American life by creating an ethos where commitment is often unin-telligible, fragmentation and disintegration of family life is unavoidable, and personal isolation is the norm. This is not to say that individualism in itself is the problem. On the contrary, there are many positive and valuable insights attached to this thought-form. Some of the fundamental values derived from individual-ism that religious communities should incarnate are: the emphasis on the value and dignity of each person and the role of the community in en-hancing this dignity; the primacy of the personal, relational, and experi-ential dimension of the community life over against the institutional and structural dimension; and the absolute need for personal manifestation and self-appropriation of community identity, decisions, and goals. Any North American religious community must take the valuable insights of individualism seriously if it truly wants to be both inculturated and pro-phetic. But the community must, at the same time, develop a lifestyle that puts this phenomenon in the fuller perspective of the gospel. Proposal for an lnculturated North American Model of Religious Life Given both the major cultural themes and the major cultural needs and problems, I propose that community should be the rubric around which we redefine our understanding and praxis of religious life at this time. I think that it is this element of religious life which, if properly un-derstood, best encompasses and incorporates the relational, personal, and experiential values that we learn from our culture. It is also community which most clearly responds to the desperate need in our time for a sig-nificant countercultural alternative to radical individualism. It is clear, however, that we must come to a new and meaningful understanding of community, particularly in a Christian and Catholic context, if we are going to develop the coherent alternative we seek. We must rethink tra-ditional understandings of community and communal life in terms that can both express the new insights of the culture while at the same time remaining faithful to the spirit of both the gospel and the broader tradi-tion in regard to community. Along these lines, then, I propose that we consider the Trinity to be the model of authentic Christian community, and therefore the context Review for Religious, January-February 1990 in which we redefine community and community life. I hope to make it clear that a trinitarian model and trinitarian terminology are ultimately more helpful for the task previously laid out than the Christological model on which much of religious life is currently based. Furthermore, I propose that we adopt a modern (though traditionally informed) social understanding of the Trinity that explains the Trinity in experiential terms. Here I am essentially assuming that there are two traditional theo-logical interpretations of the Trinity, that while related are finally dis-tinct. 2 I will try to explain the two lines of development below and then show some of the implications of taking one as our model of commu-nity. It is important to see that the fundamental advantage of this option is that it provides a model of community based on the very life of God as we understand it. In this sense the religious community is defined as an icon of the Trinity, which means that its self-understanding must ul-timately be shaped by its most deeply held theological assertions. Two Approaches to Understanding the Trinity I) Substantial Identity In the West after Augustine, the primary approach to Trinity was to begin with the divine "substantia," the single and simple essence or sub-stance of the Godhead, and then try to explain (generally using a very schematic psychological model) how this single substance could be triper-sonal. So the main focus of this line of development was the attempt to show how the three persons could relate to one common divine sub-stance, which necessarily precluded any multiplicity, while at the same time maintaining a real distinction of persons. This approach was suc-cessful in describing the unity of the Godhead, but ultimately found it difficult to give an adequate account of the relation of persons within this unity. For this reason articulations of this approach often ended in either modalism or quaternity. H)Vital Identity and Mutual Inexistence In the East, following the lead of the Cappadocian Fathers, there was a tendency to begin with the reality of the three persons and then to ar-gue to the unity of the Godhead. In essence, the task of this approach was to show how three persons could be one (rather than how one could be three). Along these lines there were two critical developments. First, Victorinus proposed that the unity of God be described as a "vital iden-tity" of life and action rather than as a "substantia."3 God then was not to be understood as some static essence, but as vitally and dynamically A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 95 alive. The three persons, therefore, do not share a common substance so much as a common identity of life. Secondly, John of Damascus proposed the concept of mutual inex-istence (perichoresis) as the best way to describe the unity of the three persons.4 This meant that the three indwell in one another and compene-trate with one another, as the flame of three wicks can burn as one. This mutual indwelling or inexistence of the divine persons is not a conse-quence of their unity, but the equivalent of it. It is in fact the mutual and complete compenetration of the three divine persons that comprises their essential unity. So here the divine persons literally exist in one another in a vibrant and ecstatic way. The three persons, as incorporeal and fully self-donating, experience an interpenetration and intense empathy that is ultimately a single identity of life. It is then the self-donation of the three persons that makes their unity possible. This mutual self-donation, however, does not compromise the autonomy of each divine person, but is only possible because of it. With-out autonomy no action would be possible, let alone self-donation. This perfect self-donation makes relationships unitive rather than divisive. This means that mutual self-donating relationships constitute the very re-ality of God. By beginning with the persons we come to a radically social under-standing of the Godhead that can in turn lead to a social understanding of created reality as well. God is the supreme communion of three di-vine persons, which humans are called to reflect imperfectly, but sacra-mentally, in relationships and community. If we choose community, then, as the rubric under which to rede-fine religious life, it would seem that the second approach to Trinity is the best model for human and particularly Christian community. I would contend however, that most models of religious life, and particularly the models of community within these, coming out of past paradigms in the West, are based on the "substantial identity" approach. I would like to make a short critique of the understanding of community under this model, and then begin to reinterpret some aspects of community and re-ligious life under this new model. Short Analysis of the Old Model of Community In many ways the old paradigm of religious life and particularly of community is analogous to the substantial identity approach to the Trin-ity. Traditional understandings of religious life tended to begin with the one substance, usually the institutional structure of the community, or-der or congregation, and then tried to fit individuals into this substance. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 So they began with the unity, which in this case tends to be a formal and impersonal unity, to which individual persons must relate. In this model the persons do not relate directly to one another, but instead relate to a certain "thing" called community. Personal relationships within this type of community are then either mediated or accidental. Individuality in this model means that I have my own personal and spiritual life (that should stay within certain boundaries and follow certain rubrics) and that I relate to the group in a certain structured way along the lines of func-tion. In other words, the work that I do is regulated by and somehow re-flects the group. The theological focus and justification for this understanding of com-munity tends to be narrowly Christological. As an individual I follow Christ by joining with a group of Christians who want to follow Christ along a similar pattern. In the West this pattern has often been basically informed by a military model (although it is a caricature to say that one became a "soldier for Christ," and that one joined the "Christian army," these images did seem to be present in the popular imagination of recent generations of religious). This narrowly Christological focus in turn often led to a linear and patriarchal institutional structure within which the individual must fit him-self or herself. This model also left no real room for the Holy Spirit and pneumatology because these tend to disrupt the structures (rules, consti-tutions,. traditions, and so forth) which are the source and focus of unity. In this scheme, then, unity was often equated with conformity to a set and impersonal pattern of common life. The main problem with this model is that it generally leads to one of two understandings of community and communal life, both of which are based on the assumption that there is some "thing" out there called a community that exists apart from the people that make it up. There is, for instance, a Dominican Order out there that somehow exists apart from Dominicans. This ultimately leads to understanding the community as be-ing fundamentally impersonal (which seems self-contradictory). This un-derstanding of community manifests itself in two basic forms, both of which I believe can be described in trinitarian terms. On the one hand, there is a kind of Modalism where each member of the community is just a projection of the whole group. Here each member is really interchange-able with any other member. Personal identity is subsumed in the whole so that my individual personality needs to be altered and re-formed so as to project the image of the whole. Secondly, the term Quaternity can be used to describe an understanding of community where each person A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life is seen to be a distinct member of the community, but there is always something more behind these called "the community." The community is some thing out there which each member, and all of the members as a whole, only represent but never fully embody. Religious Community Based on the Social Trinity Model Like its trinitarian paradigm, this understanding of religious commu-nity begins with the persons, and comes to understand their unity as that of persons sharing a vital identity of life based on mutual self-donation and shared vision. So the source of unity is love and its manifestation is the interpersonal bonding of the members. Although common struc-tures and institutions will arise from this unity to support it, they are not identical to this unity nor are they its source, starting point, or founda-tion. The actual starting point of this model is an understanding of per-sons as ecstatic beings who are most fully persons when they donate them-selves fully to the other in interpersonal relationships. In this sense per-sons can and do exist in one another~dwell in one another--in a way analogous to the way in which the persons of the Trinity mutually inex-ist. So this new model demands that community be understood in radi-cally personal and social terms. This approach effectively means that there is no "thing" out there called community that is essential and un-changeable and is unaffected by the persons who make it up. So there is, for instance, no Dominican order or community out there that exists apart from Dominicans. A consequence of this is that what a community is, or what the Dominican order is, is always changing and developing to some extent. The community is always dependent on the persons that make it up. So the community is always identified with the personal ex-perience of it. Although the community is always changing and developing with the people involved, it should always grow and develop along certain lines or patterns. This is because an essential part of the vital identity of the community will be an apprehension of and a resonance with the identity of the founder and the habitual tendency to live this out concretely over time. Those in community must interiorize this identity, and come to share it in common, as well as be familiar with how this identity has been lived out concretely in its shared history. Nevertheless, the present com-munity must never blindly follow one single concretization, or absolu-tize any past communal manifestation of this identity. The difference between this. and the older Christological model is that this model is profoundly pneumatological. Here to follow Christ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 means, first of all, to take on the mind of Christ, and this in turn means to be radically open to the Holy Spirit and the newness of mind that this entails. Taking on this mind leads to a radical personalization because it calls one to complete trust in the Father--which frees each person to be truly open and vulnerable to others. This mind also causes one to re-alize that mutual inexistence is not something one chooses, but is the very pattern and foundation of life (which one can choose to ignore). Be-cause the Holy Spirit is the ultimate personalizing principle, even within the Godhead, we see that the Spirit is the foundation of community.5 All of the above implies that the fundamental starting point for re-ligious community is conversion. The absolute need for the type of con-version process that allows us to take on the mind of Christ is obvious. Community is not possible without the orientation, transvaluation, and radical personalization of both initial and ongoing religious conversion. Any model of community that is not premised on both the initial and on-going need for conversion and repentance is inadequate. Community is not then finally some thing we can do; it is a gift we are given and can only receive. It is also not something we ever have as a finished product or achievement; its fulfillment always lies in the future, though the seeds of this future are already present. So these pneuma-based communities are inherently eschatological communities in that they point to and an-ticipate the fullness of communion in the future. Differences between the Old and New Models in Four Key Areas I) Formation Formation in the Old Model often meant re-formation. It often in-volved taking a person and changing him or her into a certain type of person who acted in a particular way and had a particular mind-set. For-mation in practice was usually indoctrination and incorporation into an institution. So there was a process set up that should end at a certain point with a certain type of predetermined character who could function within a defined system of life. The model of formation was most often seen to be military "boot camp," and the primary method of formation was sensory deprivation and incarceration. Under the New Model, formation would refer more-to the whole group than to the individual person. This is because with each new per-son that enters.the group, the group must re-form, as it were, and estab-lish a new unity. The model for individuals would actually be incorpo-ration, but not incorporation into a preexisting and unchangeable struc-ture. Rather, the process would be one of being drawn into a conscious A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 99 union of persons that entails individual and group conversion. It is a proc-ess of growth in desire and ability to donate oneself to a certain group of people, and for the group to accept and relate personally to the new person, hence redefining itself in terms of that person. The model for for-mation here would be more like the RCIA. It is a dynamic process of conversion and incorporation that challenges both the individual and the community to come to a new understanding of and commitment to oth-ers. Initial formation in a strict sense would include a process of coming to know the vital identity of the preexisting group by coming to know the identity and vision of the founder and interiorizing this vision in a way that causes the person to make decisions that in turn forms his or her character. In other words, there is a sense of taking on a new iden-tity, but this identity is always personal, and builds on the character, per-sonality, and experience of the person. It is neither a process of becom-ing someone wholly different from oneself, nor the same as others; it is coming to a fullness of autonomy and unique identity. It is a process of becoming who the person truly is. It is only this process that can facili-tate Christian community, because self-donation is ultimately based on the fullness of autonomy, not the lack of it. lrI) Vows In the Old Model the vows were generally understood to be explicit commitments to live out a certain pattern of life: This pattern was often based on the narrow, military sense of following Christ that I have al-ready mentioned. The vows were then defined as being those elements that were necessary to maintain a cohesive and successful group identity and purpose. Obedience, therefore, was often the primary vow (for Dominicans it was the only vow), and was understood in the military sense of accept-ing a certain authority structure and chain of command. How one related to the community as a whole. The authority structure tended to take the place of interpersonal responsibility to the community---following orders from legitimate authority, no matter how half-heartedly and passively, was seen to be obedience. Poverty was the commitment to be materially dependent on the whole group, and to accept the priority of the corporate needs over one's own. So one could not own anything personally (that is, neither personal bank accounts nor independent financial resources), although one might have the use of things based on need. Furthermore, this vow was gener-ally regarded as applying only to the individual's obligation in regard to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 material goods, although it was occasionally seen to impinge on the ma-terial wealth of the community as a whole. Celibacy had both a moral and an institutional basis. It was, there-fore, seen as the obligation to abstain from all sexual activity, and to avoid all exclusive relationships so as to avoid scandal to the group's repu-tation and to insure cohesive institutional structures. In the New Model there will always be two aspects to any vow: how it affects and is part of the life of the community as a whole; and how it affects and directs the life of the individual. It is important to see that the vows are primarily commitments to a certain style of life and to cer-tain values and priorities made by the whole community. The individ-ual's vows, then, are the taking on of these group commitments, and mak-ing personal decisions to facilitate these. So when the individual makes vows, she or he is vowing to enter fully into the vows of the whole com-munity, and making a commitment to come to see one's own identity in terms of the others. In one sense there is only one vow, namely the community's vow to enter into an obediential relationship to the Father after the example of Jesus, based on an unconditional trust in the providential care of the Father. This vow then will be most clearly manifest in the community's commitment to poverty. Obedience in this model is first and foremost trust in God. But be-cause of this it is experienced as a trust in and openness to the whole com-munity. In this sense, obedience means essentially "to listen" (from the Latin root), and is most fully expressed by the term integrity. For the in-dividual this means that one make the community the priority in one's life, and, therefore, the person should grow, develop, and make deci-sions in true dialogue with the whole community. It means that each per-son forms and informs his or her life by the interpersonal relationships that are experienced as community. As a group, obedience is the commitment to never let institutional structures pass for common life or take the place of true listening, dis-cernment, and consensus building. In other words, it is the commitment to an ongoing and interpersonal dialogue, which is a group commitment, out of love, to live with a certain amount of ambiguity and tension in their lives, even at the expense of efficiency and cohesiveness. The com-munity and the individual fundamentally commit themselves to be open to the Spirit, and to be fully charismatic in the truest sense. Rigid con-formity, mediocre efforts, institutional paralysis, unimaginative and un-creative problem solving, and impersonal decision-making would all be Seen as violations of this vow. Poverty is seen by the whole community as the test and sign of its A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life unconditional trust in God. This vow is based on the assumption that the radical sharing of worldly goods is the fundamental and practical test of both the individual's and community's faith. So this vow on the part of the individual is the commitment to a complete sharing of wealth and re-sources with the others in the community and with those outside of it. It is a vow to hold nothing back. Furthermore, it is the commitment to work, not so that one may accumulate wealth or find personal gratifica-tion, but so that through work one may share with others, and produce fruits to share with others. On the part of the group, poverty is likewise a commitment to a radi-cal form of hospitality that excludes no one in principle, and where pri-ority for sharing is based on need. It also means that the whole commu-nity will work as a way of sharing, and so that it will have something to share. Group "navel-gazing" that does not end in service, wasting money and service on those who do not need it, over-planning for the future security of the group, spending money for services that the group could perform for themselves, and an inability to let go of past successes are all violations of this vow. Celibacy is the vow that facilitates the radical self-donation of one-self to a number of other people, so it is first of all the vow to give one-self fully and personally to the others in the community. As such, it nec-essarily requires that the person forego any fundamentally exclusive re-lationships and the types of physical intimacy that are proper to these. This does not mean a denial of intimacy, affection, and personal rela-tionship-- one is actually committed to these in self-donation--but one chooses to find these and enter into these within the context of commu-nity. This then is the central predisposition of the trinitarian model of com-munity: the choice to seek interpersonal fulfillment in a non-exclusive but fully intense way through community with others. As a community this vow is the commitment of the whole to each person, and to the extension of hospitality to include a personal open-ness to all. So it is a commitment to be inclusive communities that offer human relationship unconditionally to all. Simply living together with a "boarding-house" mentality, refusing to reach out to and even chal-lenge the alcoholic or any dysfunctional member, passive-aggressive be-havior, and remaining separate and distant from people outside of the com-munity would all be violations of this vow. III) Common Life and Institutional Structures As alluded to earlier, in the New Model common aspects of the com-munity life (prayer, study, various practices, and so forth) and the un-derlying institutional structures which support these (constitutions, rules, 39 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 authority structures, government apparatus) are not equivalent to the com-munity, but arise out of it and are meant to serve it. So no elements of the common life are absolute and unchangeable in principle. It is impor-tant to point out, however, that although the institutional structures in the New Model are fluid and open to change, there are some things that they must necessarily exclude. Leadership in this model of community is always a service to the whole that is exercised cautiously and humbly. Any authority structure within the community, therefore, must begin with an unequivocal rejection of a worldly view of power, particularly those models that arise out of a militaristic worldview. Furthermore, there can be no caste systems in community life--seniority, clericalism, and elitism are all worldly views of power. Everyone who has made an explicit commitment to the community has an equal share in and respon-sibility to the common life. So authority structures must always reflect this reality, and must always be open to revision and challenge. In both models the greatest threat to unity is dissent. In the Old Model, dissent was usually seen in impersonal terms, as in dissent from some aspect of common life. To disagree with a superior, to not observe a certain practice, or to disregard a certain law were all acts that were understood to be disunifying. The key in this model then was to mini-mize dissent by insisting on complete, even mindless, conformity on a very practical level to a certain core of ideas and practices. In the New Model dissent is seen in more personal terms as a break-down of the interpersonal bonding and as dysfunctionality. The main source of dissent is the attitudes of persons within the group towards one another. This type of dissent will often hide behind superficial agreement or conformity, but operates at a deeper level to poison relationships and undermine unity. The approach here though is to confront dissent as part of the ongoing need for conversion and repentance for the whole com-munity. This highlights then the absolute need for consent in this model, and particularly for an ongoing process of building consent or consen-sus. So the main emphasis is not minimizing dissent, it is maximizing consensus, which in turn requires that the community be willing to con-front and challenge dissent in a personal and constructive way. IV) Mission and Ministry In the Old Model mission and ministry were the primary focus of re-ligious life in general, and of one's individual vocation in particular. Com-munity, then, had a secondary role and was seen essentially as a means of facilitating mission. The dominant understanding of vocation was that one was called to a certain mission (namely to follow Jesus), and so one A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 33 was called to do certain things. One then was to choose a lifestyle that best accommodated and supported what it was that one wanted to do. One chose a community because it best enabled the work that one wanted to do. So community was formed for a certain reason or purpose, namely, because it was the most efficient and practical means to share resources, pool talents, and consolidate authority in order to get a cer-tain mission accomplished. The vows of celibacy and poverty, for in-stance, were often seen in this light: community made possible the kind of work one wanted to do. So this model generally understood mission in an individualistic sense, and mainly valued community for its func-tional role. In the New Model one does not live in community to facilitate work or mission; one lives in community and, therefore, can work and be sent on mission. Community is always primary and chosen for its own sake. Community is chosen because of the people involved; it is the decision to share one's life in a particular way with others. Here the trinitarian emphasis of this model is most helpful. The Trin-ity does not come together in order to create and go on mission. It is in-stead just because of the radical unity and self-donation of the persons to one another that they can create and be sent. The missions of Jesus and the Holy Spirit are the models here. Missions always reveal some-thing about the senders, and what the Son and Holy Spirit communicate simply is their shared life with the Father. It is precisely their shared life that they invite us into. In other words, the senders are essential; there is no mission without being sent. So it is because one lives in community, and because of the graced transformation of experience that this entails, that one feels empowered to go out. And what is shared when one is "out" is precisely the fruits of the common life. Because the Christian community is by nature a char-ismatic community, there are a variety of gifts to be shared. Furthermore, each community, because of its shared vital identity with a particular foun-der, will have a particular charism which both grows out of and shapes the development of the community life. It is then the radical self-donation conversion that sends a person out. So through conversion each person is always moving into wider circles of community. The religious community is in turn sent by the wider Christian community, and so it has a message and a mission also. Under this model, community is experientially prior to mission, and is in fact its source. In the actual life of the community, however, both will be mutually dependent and interrelated. In this sense though, very 34 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 individualistic types of spirituality, even those that allow for some form of community, are called into question. In regard to vocation, this means that one's vocation is primarily understood as taking on the mind of Christ and thereby coming into contact with the life of God within one, and of being called by this realization into relationship with others in a new way. In the context of this new relationship one is sent out to oth-ers. The point is that for those who choose to live in religious commu-nity it is community itself which is the vocation--it is the call. The spe-cific mission or function that one takes on within this context is really the call of or from the community. This call is the claim that members of the community have on one another by virtue of their mutual self-donation. This raises the question of the place of ordination within the reli-gious community. In the Old Model a specific type of work was often seen as the primary vocation, and, therefore, the community was there to support and enhance ordination. The levels of participation within the community were generally based upon the work one did, and so the or-dained occupied a higher level in the communal structure. So ordination tended to be divisive and obscured the priority of the communal life. In the New Model interpersonal relationships are primary. The vo-cation of the religious is to community, and it is primarily the commu-nity as a whole that is sacramental. It is the community which sends the person to do a particular type of work or to function in a particular ca-pacity. Ordination, then, comes from the community and is based both on the needs which the community perceives and on the gifts of the in-dividuals within the community. Ordination, however, is not the indi-vidual's sole possession; it is proper to the whole community and is dele-gated to one or another member as circumstances require. Furthermore, ordination can never be divisive; it can never change one's status within the community; it can only change one's function. Conclusion Those who look upon God as a metaphysical monad flee society to dwell alone with the Alone. [but] those who look upon the reality of God as the perfection of interpersonal communion will discover the divine in community.6 Our vision and image of God is ultimately the matrix around which we shape our lives. Who we are and how others experience us says more about the God we believe in than all the theological discourse we can of-fer. When confronting the challenge, therefore, of redefining our lives A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life so as to be prophetic witnesses to the gospel, the most fundamental ques-tion we must ask ourselves is, "Who is our God?" Likewise, when we truly come to know this God the primary question we must ask is not "What ought I do?" It is instead "Who ought we be?" NOTES J Robert Bellah et al, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in Ameri-can Life (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1985). 2 For a more detailed discussion of the development of trinitarian doctrine see par-ticularly Jurgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1981); Robert Jenson, The Triune Identity (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982); and Donald Gelpi, S.J., The Divine Mother: A Trinitarian Theology of the Holy Spirit (Lanham: University of America Press, 1984). 3 Gelpi, op. cit., pp. 13 ! - 132. 4 Moltmann, op. cit., pp. 174-176; Gelpi, op. cit., p. 132. 5 For a further discussion on the role of the Holy Spirit in the Godhead see Gelpi, op. cit., particularly chapter 3. 6 lbid, p. 140. In-Depth Wisdom A tree climbs to the heights because of roots concealed; Waves break in beauty on the shores for there are depths unseen; Mountains rise in loveliness on rock, set fold on fold; Lest we forget as we grow old. Philomena Mary, S.N.J.M. 1420 Mount Royal Blvd. Outremont, Quebec, Canada H2V 2J2 Community--- A Multi-Dimensional Reality Jeanne Knoerle, S.P. Sister Jeanne Knoerle, S.P., is identified with Woods Associates, consultants to non-profit organizations in strategic planning, management, and marketing. Her address is Saint Mary-of-the-Woods; Indiana 47876. Several bits and pieces of experience have coalesced recently to tempo-rarily part some of the mists shrouding my understanding of the word and the reality of community within a religious congregation. They have con-tributed for me what our old Rational Psychology professor, Father McGinnis, would call an "intellectual aha," and I would like to share them. The first piece of experience contributing to this "aha" has grown from my confusion and unclarity about what it means to be a woman re-ligious, committed to a life lived in community. This is not a recent con-fusion. It has been with me (and I know with many others) for some years and is an ambiguity and tension that has been alternately energiz-ing and creative as well as enervating and destructive. So much so that I have come to see the word "community" as representing a reality with so many possible understandings and so many modalities of expression that it has become almost useless as a representation of a concept. Often a group of religious tries to get at its meaning by eliminating all the things it apparently is not--physical things like sharing a com-mon dwelling, sharing common work, doing things together--hoping that in identifying what it is not, they will more easily be able to move to a definition of what it is. When the group does move to trying to define what it is, they often identify it as an invisible bond which ties a group of people together 36 Community---A Multi-Dimensional Reality around shared values, seeing it as expressed not so much in physical to-getherness but in commonness of purpose, in a shared history, in a be-lief in a common tradition. In reality, however, what I find myself doing most of the time is vac-illating between those two extremes, momentarily satisfied but never fully at peace with either. One seems too dependent on a narrow con-ception which can be counted and measured and made explicit. The other seems too vague and unclear, susceptible of such a wide range of inter-pretation as to offer no possibility of an objective, shared reality. I come away with a sense that each of those extremes offers a piece of the truth, an insight into the constantly shifting dynamics of community, but that ultimately there must be some other, fuller definition that incorporates some aspects of each of them. A second bit of experience which led to these reflections has come from my further study of the Enneagram, a personality theory which iden-tifies three interior centers from which individuals draw their energy to cope with the realities of their life. These centers--the head or percep-tual center, the heart or relational center, and the gut or instinctual cen-ter- are each operative within every individual, and are each important to the development of the total human person.Yet each of us comes to favor using one of them over the other two, drawing from it the primary energy for our response to life. Dealing more deeply with this system and how it operates within the life of individuals has enabled me to more effectively step aside and ob-serve the patterns of my own and others' attitude toward life. It has given me a sense of understanding, tolerance, and acceptance of behavior that earlier I had been confused about and often judgmental of. And it has enabled me to see more clearly patterns in the motivations of individu-als and groups where before I had focused primarily on disparate actions. A major spin-off has been to provide me with a more coherent un-derstanding of the wide variations in the ways in which members of a religious community see and respond to the same stimuli. That people responded very differently was surely evident in the past. There were those who thoroughly enjoyed and anticipated the challenge of study in the summer, and those who dreaded the vei'y thought of summertime be-cause it meant they had to study. There were those who loved to volun-teer for infirmary duties and those who hated to. Those who loved most to party, and those who loved most to pray. Why they did so and why I personally responded in the way I did was not so clear. Because the Enneagram is a system built on trying to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 understand the constantly shifting dynamics of the human personality, the answers it provides to "why" we act the way we do are neither sim-ple nor clear-cut, but they do at least provide an overall pattern against which to make some judgment. The third piece of experience I bring to this moment comes from the variety of reading in theology, ecclesiology, and ethics that I have re-cently undertaken, but especially from Avery Dulles' recent book The Reshaping of Catholicism. Father Dulles' book helped to put some, though by no means all, of my frustrations into perspective. It helped sort out and clarify the mean-ing of many of the concepts and experiences which have been so much a part of Catholicism since Vatican II. But the particular insight he presented which connects to the chal-lenge I described earlier, that of defining community, I found in his chap-ter on the Extraordinary Synod of i 985. There, in explaining the themes which emerged from that synod and which were incorporated into its pub-lished Report, Dulles described three schools of thought which existed among the delegates: the neo-Augustinian school which tended to depict the Church as an island of grace in a world given over to sin; the com-munitarian school which tended to depict the Church as the human face of God on earth, in trouble now because of the failure of conservative prelates to carry out the reforms of Vatican II; and the liberation school which depicted the Church as in possession of the wisdom of God and which, therefore, must be politically involved if it is to carry out the work of the kingdom. The neo-Augustinians, putting their accent on worship and holiness, wanted a Church more committed to the cultivation of spiritual union with God. The communitarians, putting their accent on more humanis-tic issues, wanted a Church more involved in the promotion of peace and reconciliation. The liberationists, sharing neither the sacralism of the Augustinians nor the secular optimism of the communitarians, wanted a Church that was confrontational and militant. The Synod dealt with these three points of view, but the commitment of the drafters of the document was not to a presentation of varying points of view and to a clear identification of their points of disagree-ment. Rather the emphasis was on integration, on interrelationship, on allowing the variety of colors to be mixed together on the canvas like a Monet painting, rather than to be identified separately like a rainbow. Therefore, the final Report incorporated concerns of all of these groups, but with none clearly in the ascendance. Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality/39 Dulles quotes the following marvelous sentence, artfully crafted to incorporate the ultimate wholeness which grew from the conflicting worldviews of all of those schools: "The Church as communion is the sacrament for the salvation of the world." It was that discussion about the schools of thought that existed in the Synod, and especially that sentence which seemed so beautifully to cre-ate a whole out of three disparate expressions of the truth, which began to push a pattern more insistently into the forefront of my mind. While the community of a gathering of bishops and the community of a religious congregation are certainly very different entities, and in many ways are not analagous, they do share the reality of being a group of people in relationship to one another, who share a common purpose, a common mission, and a common tradition. Theirs is a more ephem-eral relationship--they are not together often, nor with regularity, nor as a group do they have a specific, ongoing common task beyond the one they are presently fulfilling, though they do share the general task of mak-ing the word of God present in the world through their work as bishops. Nonetheless, it seems to me we can see the conflictual issues of com-munity mirrored fairly clearly in the three schools of thought which ex-isted at the Synod and which were so clearly delineated by Father Dul-les. And those schools fit with a fair amount of cohesion into the three types of centers which are basic to the theory of the Enneagram. The neo-Augustinians, like those approaching life from the head cen-ter, tend to approach things perceptually, more frequently using their in-tellect and their powers of observation to solve the problems of life, be-ing less intensely involved than those in the other centers. Hence they more clearly see the other-worldly aspects of religious life and feel less pressure to commit the community to becoming involved in the concerns of the world, and more pressure to see that it retains its sense of being an effective instrument of salvation. The communitarians, like those approaching life from the heart cen-ter, tend to approach things from the point of view of relationships, con-cerned always with how they relate to others and how others relate to one another. Without a sense of relationship they have difficulty feeling the life in them, and are, therefore, much more concerned with the world outside them than with the world within them. Hence they focus most comfortably on the human aspects of the work of the community. The liberationists, on the other hand, like those approaching life from the gut center, have an instinctual feeling about the World; they have a kind of built-in sense of knowing, the source of which is not al- 40 / Review for Religious, January-Februao, 1990 ways clear, but the force of which is powerful. Hence they have a strong belief in the responsibility of the community to bring justice into the world, to use its resources and its life to make the world more right. Let me use myself as an example. As a person whose energy comes from the heart or relational center, I am most comfortable in the com-munitarian school, concerned with how we as members of a community can better relate to one another and how our religious community can best help other human beings be better, holier, happier, more complete persons. During the last few years I have begun gradually to integrate some of the rico-Augustinian or perceptual worldview more fully into my own, however. Becoming concerned that I had put too much emphasis on the outer world of action, I have consciously attempted to develop the inner, more spiritual aspects of my person. And now I sense in-creased energy emanating from the head center as well. Where I feel least comfortable, however, is in the liberation school. I know intellectually that to become fully integrated I must learn to trust (perhaps even more fundamentally to get in touch with) my instincts. I know I must learn that to touch and release my anger will not interfere with my relationships. I know I must be better able to integrate and act out of my instinctual center, as I have begun to integrate and act out of my perceptual center. Yet I find this center most out of my range of ex-perience and significantly harder to reach. I think each of us--whatever our approach to life--has the same strug-gle. If we want to become more personally integrated, if we want ulti-mately to create a more mature community, we must perceive, then tol-erate, then understand, then fully accept the differing approaches to life which result from using the energy of each of these centers. We must attempt to identify what worldview is ours and, without imposing it as the best and only one, contribute that piece of truth to the Monet canvas of community. But we must also acknowledge what piece of truth we find hardest to accept and struggle to incorporate it more fully into our view of reality. We must acknowledge, if we operate as neo-Augustinians from the head of perceptual center, our discomfort level when the community seems to over-stress a commitmeni to human development, leaving the spiritual aspect of our lives unstressed. We must acknowledge, if we operate as communitarians from the heart or relational center, our discomfort level when we are asked to ap-prove the taking of a community stand, thereby moving to publicly sepa-rate us from others rather than to positively underscore the bonds which Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality draw human beings together. We must acknowledge, if we operate as iiberationists from the gut or instinctual center, our discomfort level when the community stresses the eschatological, the importance of the kingdom of heaven and the life of the other world, rather than the impor!ance of confronting the evil in this world and the need to see that justice is accomplished in the present. In each case, however, if community is to mirror the full dimensions of our humanness, we must acknowledge that each approach to life does have a piece of the truth. And we must be willing to contribute our own piece of the truth, holding on to it and placing it on the canvas. Then stand back to see the full picture which we have helped to create, accept-ing the contribution of the other truths as well as our own to that full-ness. Developing the fullness of that picture is what community is all about. And since, perhaps more than at any other time in history, com-munity is a concept that is ambiguous, even anomalous, we must be will-ing, as the drafters of the synod document were of the concept of Church, to seek among us a creative and dynamic peace about how we perceive and live it. As we now live in religious communities, however,, it seems to me that we too often speak the words of power than of peace. We fail to en-ter the world of those with whom we share the reality of community, talk-ing too often instead from the protection of our own shell, not really hear-ing, not really understanding the words of those who speak from another worldview. Our primary goal is too often the imposition of our own. Let me return to the initial insight which prompted these reflections-- that the word community has come to mean so many things that it has become almost useless as the representation of a concept. I would like now to modify that insight somewhat to say rather that community is a such multifaceted concept that it can only be captured by allowing its defi-nition to be pluriform. It is perhaps most analagous, not to a Monet paint-ing, but to a hologram---offering only one specific facet to the eyes of the viewer at a given time, yet only complete When seen in its full three dimensions. Perhaps if we can come 'to see our third of the truth reflected in that hologram, together with the other dimensions of the truth we less clearly identify with, we can better allow ourselves to say yes to the varying ex-pressions of community. And at the same time we can come to agree-ment that no one expression is sufficient for the whole. To begin this process, we need to name and claim our own 49 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 worldview, so that it becomes objectified and clear. Then we need to hear others name theirs, and accept the authenticity of their vision as well as ours. Only then can we proceed. For example, from my relational center, from my communitarian worldview, some physical togetherness, some living or working or be-ing together, seems to me to be clearly implicit in the very word com-munity. I have difficulty understanding the more ethereal co.ncept of com-munity which is sometimes outlined in the perceptual or neo-Augus~inian view--that community is a form of bondedness which need not be ex-pressed in our being i.ogether, but rather in our somehow feeling that we are together. And I have even greater difficulty with the instinctual or liberationist concept of community as being strengthened by being against something or someone else. That simply is how I perceive community. It does not mean that I believe I hold the only truth about it. It does not negate other concepts or understandings of community. It simply means that if we ultimately define community without including some aspect ofphysical together-ness I will have little ability to relate to that definition, nowhere to hang on to it. It will not fit within my worldview. I need to correct the narrowness of my vision, not by letting go of it, not by some grand gesture of surrender or denial which will ultimately lead to my feeling at the margins of community or, even worse, alien-ated from it. I need to proffer my piece of truth and then seek to broaden my vision and deepen my understanding of community by seriously study-ing the truths offered by others, ultimately respecting their view of real-ity as much as I respect my own. If we were all to do that in mutual respect for each other's view of what community is, while the resulting hologram of community might not be totally satisfying to any one of us, it could instead offer us a rich and full opportunity to explore and live out its multifaceted reality dur-ing the rest of our lives. Dyads and Triads: The Sociological Implications of Small-Group Living Arrangements Patricia Wittberg, S.C. Sister Patricia Wittberg, S.C., is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Soci-ology and Anthropolgy at Fordham University. Her address is Department of Soci-ology and Anthropology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458. As the number of active members in religious congregations becomes smaller, and as these members become involved in more varied and dis-persed ministries, it is increasingly common to find religious living sin-gly or in groups of two or three. While the personal.and communal im-plications of individuals living alone have been examined to some ex-tent,~ the special social dynamics of pairs and other very small groups have been less frequently considered. Usually, groups of religious larger than one but smaller then eight or ten are treated together under the head-ing "small group living," with little consideration for the special char-acteristics which groups of two or three might have. It would, however, be a valuable exercise to examine these special characteristics, since the recent experience of many congregations has uncovered regular patterns in them. Some "pair" living arrangements--or dyads, as they are also called--have remained stable for years or even decades within a congre-gation, resisting the efforts of community leaders or of the dyadic pair themselves to add a third person. Conversely, groups of three religious (triads) are often unstable, repeatedly splitting into pair and a singleton. The stability of pair members or the frequent group-switching of thirds have sometimes been attributed by others to unhealthy tendencies in the individuals involved--immaturity, perhaps, or excessive dependency. So- 43 44/Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ciologists, however, have found that it is often the mere fact of belong-ing to a group of a given size that elicits certain behaviors from an indi-vidual, independently of his or her personal psychological character-istics. This article will summarize the writings of the German sociolo-gist Georg Simmel on the characteristics of dyads and triads, and will draw some tentative implications of these studies for religious who live in small groups. It is important to emphasize that Simmel viewed his work on the nu-merical composition of groups to be a sort of "geometry of human rela-tions." Just as the properties of a circle or a triangle remain constant whether the actual figure is made of paper or of wood, so the social dy-namics of dyads and triads are inherent in themselves, Simmel thought, regardless of the individuals involved. It is, of course, possible that the members of a particular dyad or triad can disregard the tendencies at-tached to number, especially if they are aware of them. It is also possi-ble that a common ideological commitment, such as the vows in relig-ious life, may override the effects of a given number, to some extent. But the underlying dynamics will still exist, and will result in certain com-mon patterns when many groups are examined. The Dyad A dyad, Simmel stated, is different from all other groups, in that, while outsiders may see it as a unit, from the inside each member sees only the other person, and not a supra-individual collectivity.2 If either individual should leave, the dyad would cease to exist. Each member thus feels herself and her partner to be indispensable, since "for its life the dyad needs both; for its death only one.''3 The dyad is, therefore, more conscious of the possibility of group dissolution, and feels "both endangered and irreplaceable." Dyadic relations are also characterized by greater intimacy than larger groups--it is the uniqueness of these two particular individuals that gives the dyad its special flavor and which can often become "the core value and chief matter of its existence."4 Since only one other.individual besides oneself composes a dyad, the group "does not attain that super-personal life" which the individual feels to be independent of his presence and participation.5 Dyad mem-bers are unable to delegate responsibility to "the group," to expect things from "the group," or to let "the group" get away with some-thing. In a larger group, by contrast, an individual may fail to develop ownership of group decisions, or may passively benefit from her mem-bership with a minimum of personal contributions. Dyads and Triads Dyadic Living Relationships in Religious Life There are both positive and negative implications of the dynamics of dyadic relationships in religious life. On the positive side, dyadic liv-ing encourages the personal assumption of responsibility for the quality of group living. If the house i~ dirty or if common prayer is neglected, there is no one to blame but oneself and one other individual. Dyadic living has also been a fruitful way for religious to develop their ability to achieve intimacy and individual growth,6 psychological capacities that were often stunted in the large institutional living arrangements of for-mer decades. Other aspects of dyadic interactions, however, have at least the potential for negative effects--both for the congregation as well as for the individuals involved. Since the departure of either member de-stroys a dyad, an individual religious living in such an arrangement may have to do a sort of "dual discernment" when considering a ministerial change: taking into consideration both whether it is time for himself to move on as well as whether it is a good time for his dyadic partner to have to find a new living arrangement. For this reason, dyads tend to be the most stable of small groups. Since stability, uniqueness, and intimacy are inherent in the dyadic form, the individuals living in dyads may not necessarily have psycho-logically unhealthy traits, even if they remain together longer than out-siders would deem wise. For those who do have such traits, however, dyadic living will exacerbate them. Furthermore, a mutual dependency may develop within the dyad over time, even if none existed initially. For dyad members who are or have become excessively dependent on each other, dissolution of the dyad (by death or serious illness, for ex-ample) will cause intense psychological distress. There is also evidence that dyadic living can be detrimental to the larger congregation. This is true whether the congregation is following the traditional "intentional community" model or one of the newer as-sociational forms. In an intentional community, members are bound to-gether by a common religious ideology which encourages the subordi-nation, at least in some key instances, of the individual to the larger group.7 Previous research on intentional communities has shown that dy-adic attachments often erode this group loyalty, which is the essential foundation of the communal lifestyle.8 For this reason, successful inten-tional communities have always included some mechanism either to elimi-nate dyads or to subordinate them. Sometimes the suppression of dyads has been heavy-handed and psychologically destructive, as in the at-tempts to eliminate "particular friendships" in pre-Vatican II religious 46 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 life, and at times it has led to unusual patterns such as the forced adop-tion of "group marriage" in the Oneida community. By whatever means, however, no intentional community has ever survived that has allowed dyadic attachment to develop unhindered.9 Many religious congregations, of course, have discarded the inten-tional community model and have adopted a looser form of association. One such model which has been recently advanced is that of "mission" as the uniting principle behind a community. Religious may live and work in widely scattered situations and yet still consider themselves bound together by the shared missionary vision of their founder: Community is not the living situation. It is not all going to Great Amer-ica together, it is not dressing alike, and it is not working in the same facility. Community is the result of our bondedness around a common mission, Christ's mission, the kingdom, according to the spirit and charism of our founder or foundress as experienced in this particular group. ~0 But the very intimacy and uniqueness inherent in the dyad can often eclipse this dedication to mission and attenuate any mission-based bonds to the larger group. If this happens, the dyad will stagnate at the self-absorbed stage which Wombacher says is a danger to those individuals and groups which fail to go outside of themselves in true generative and creative service of others. ~ A dyad that has been extremely stable for a long period of time may make it very difficult for its members to sum-mon the courage to move on. There may be instances where both mem-bers attempt to move together; such endeavors are subject to the same difficulties that married professionals often face in locating two suitable jobs in the same area. This would detract from the mission-bonded con-gregation's ideal of following the leading of the Spirit into the works most needed by the People of God. To the extent that stable dyads form in religious life, therefore, the community--whether a close-knit intentional community or a mission-based association--may be less able to count on the loyalty of its mem-bers. This is especially true since other social mechanisms are simulta-neously conspiring to keep the dyad an exclusive "twosome." The fol-lowing section will consider the addition of third members to a dyad, and the reasons for the instability of this new living arrangement. The Triad There is a qualitative difference between a dyad and a triad; adding a fourth or fifth member to a group does not change it nearly as much Dyads and Triads as adding the third. ~2 For the first time, it becomes possible in a triad for each group member to have two kinds of relationships with the oth-ers: a direct (A~)C) and an indirect (A~)BtbC) one. In a triad, a majority can out vote an individual member, and it becomes possible for the indi-vidual to envision the group existing after her departure. Division be-comes possible among the members: A and B may share some experi-ence, idea, or interest that C does not, while B and C may have some-thing in common that A does not have. This may lead to shifting alli-ances or interest groups, a situation that was impossible in a dyad. Se-crets, too, become possible in triads, and one member may be excluded, to a greater or lesser extent, from group activities. Also, if the original dyadic partners were unequal in some way, adding a third disrupts the subordinate/superordinate relationship---either by increasing the distance between the superordinate and the two subordinates, or by making it pos-sible for the subordinates to combine against the superordinate. Special group roles are also possible in a triad, which could not ex-ist before. Since "there is no triad in which dissent among two of the elements does not occur from time to time," ~3 the third member may be-come a mediator, who can be impartial because she is not involved with either or also is equally involved with both. Another new role is the Ter-tius Gaudens (Rejoicing Third), who profits by maintaining a division between the other two. There are two ways of benefiting from strife among one's fellow members: one can actively pursue some otherwise forbidden interest while the others are preoccupied, or one can passively allow oneself to be showered with gifts as the contending parties com-pete for one's support. To the extent that the tertius has less personally involved in the dispute, he is in a stronger position than the other two, and it may be to his advantage to perpetuate this situation. Finally, the third member may actually employ the tactic of "divide and conquer"-- producing conflict in order to break up an incipient coalition. The dis-ruptive effects of secrets, ~he exclusion of one or another member, re-joicing thirds and divide and conquer tactics mean that, if the dyad is an especially stable group form, the triad is an especially unstable one. Dyads and Triads in Religious Life Because of the inherent dynamics of dyads and triads, two religious living together (and perhaps also working together in a common minis-try) often find it difficult to attract a third person to join them or to re-tain a newcomer who has come, even if they sincerely desire to do so. Initially, this difficulty may not depend on the personalities of the indi-viduals involved, but simply on the disruptive effects of adding a third 411 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 to any dyad. Over time, however, the members of stable dyads also de-velop habits and customs which make it even harder for an outsider to gain entrance, or to feel comfortable once she has. This situation has ob-vious ministerial--and communal--implications. A given school or par-ish may wish to attract new religious workers, yet otherwise interested applicants may be put off by the prospect of joining a preexisting duo. Congregations whose formation programs involve sending prospective members to live on mission with other religious may have difficulty find-ing a place where the new affiliate is not liable to be excluded (however inadvertently) by a dyad or scandalized by the divisions in a triad. Fi-nally, some individuals may gain an undeserved reputation for being hard to live or work with: if a religious tries and fails to break into several successive dyads, or if two dyad members are repeatedly joined by third persons who move out after one year, others in the congregation may as-cribe their difficulties to personal defects on their part. If the failed at-tempts also involve repeated ministerial changes on the part of the per-son joining the dyad, his professional resum6 may suffer. Rapid turn-over may also be a source of scandal to outsiders--lay parishioners, for example, or parents at a school--if the new religious lives apart from the preceding two. Conclusions As religious congregations enter the last decade of the twentieth cen-tury, they will be increasingly faced by the issues which dyadic and tri-adic living arrangements raise. Some communities may wish to avoid the ministerial inflexibility that excessively stable dyads tend to create. For-mation directors may need actively to work for the preservation of larger living arrangements in order to avoid the necessity of placing a novice in a triad. After the novitiate, temporarily professed may find their tran-sition to full community membership and ministry even more stressful if they have to adjust to life with a preexisting pair. On the other hand, joining a single religious (and thus creating a dyad) may result in the young religious beginning this extremely stable living arrangement at the outset of her community life. If dyadic living tends to attenuate the group loyalty even of long-term members, it is all the more likely to do so in new arrivals. Finally, as the members of a dyad age, congregations may find it necessary to provide counseling services when death or serious illness causes the breakup of a pair that has been together for several dec-ades. The obvious solution to difficulties raised by dyad and triad living is to expand the local community to four or five members. This is not Dyads and Triads always possible, however. For one thing, the decreasing number of ac-tive members makes it likely that most ministerial situations will con-tain only a very few religious. This would be especially true in areas out-side of the large cities in the traditionally Catholic Northeast and Mid-west. The trend toward apartment living also fosters dyads and triads, since four- or five-bedroom apartments are rare. In some congregations, a substantial proportion of the members are already in dyadic living ar-rangements, and the community government may lack the tradition of authority to request or require that these grbupings be dissolved. This being the case, dyad and triad living will probably be unavoid-able in religious communities, at least to some extent. There are, how-ever, positive steps which the members of a congregation can take to ad-dress the issues which such arrangements raise. First of all, the records of a community should be investigated, in order to determine whether the abstract predictions of sociological theory about dyads and triads are, in fact, reflected in this particular congregation. Are the living arrange-ments and ministerial placements more stable thaff they were twenty years ago? What is the average size of living groups within the congre-gation? How long, on the average, have dyads been together? How long have triads? The members of larger groups? Which type of living arrange-ment appears to be increasing in frequency? Which types are decreas-ing?~ 4 Once trends have been identified, a congregation may wish to initi-ate a communal discernment process to determine what the effects of dy-ads and triads have been for its members, and whether these effects are desirable or not. The members of dyads and triads, or members who have once tried to join such a living arrangement, could be surveyed for their opinions and insights. Two- or three-person living arrangements could become a topic for chapter or pre-chapter discussion and debate among all the members, since whatever policies a congregation adopts in this regard would have to be owned by the members affected. Some of the possible follow-up actions to this community discern-ment could include the establishment or enlargement of a specific coun-seling or facilitation program to work with the members involved in dy-ads and triads. Triads may choose to make regular and frequent use of a facilitator--perhaps on a biweekly or monthly basis--to alert them-selves to and to deal with instances of divide and conquer, rejoicing thirds, or exclusive factions that may arise. Newly-formed triads-- especially those formed of a previous dyad and a singleton--would be in particular need of this service. Job counseling and placement services 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 may help the members of dyads decide when to move on, and, of course, extensive counseling services would be needed for long-standing dyad members when, as will inevitably happen, illness, retirement or death dissolves their pair. The members of a congregations may decide to place a limit on the number of years that can be spent in a given dyad. Since most congregations no longer intervene so actively in the lives of their members, however, special commur~ity-wide discernment and input would be necessary before such a step would be accepted and owned, especially by the dyads involved. The congregation's leadership would also have to provide information about alternatives--both in living and in ministry--for any pair of its members who did agree to separate and move on. The physical resources available to a congregation should also be ex-amined in the light of what is learned about dyads and triads in the com-munity. In the past decade or so, for example, many parish convents have been closed and either demolished or converted to other uses. Some of these may have been of an ideal size to house a group of five or six. Congregations may wish to identify the houses of the "right size" which are still available, and make arrangements to purchase them, if they do not already own them. Any new living space which is created-- apartment buildings that may be purchased or built, large-scale quarters attached to hospitals or retirement centers that may be modified-- should be created with the effects of dyads and triads in mind. Finally, creative social arrangements may be devised to maintain ties to the larger community in the members of dyads and triads. If a con-gregation has small discussion groups as part of its government process, dyad members may be assigned to different groups. For those orders still involved largely in teaching, summer ministry or vacation opportunities can be advertised, and dyad members urged to avail themselves of dif-ferent opportunities. Dyads and triads living in the same area may be in-terfaced, and perhaps exchange members for a week or even longer. As congregations begin to explore the implications of living in groups of two and three, other practices will doubtless be devised. These should be shared with other communities. Number is not destiny. No inevitable social laws require that a dyad be excessively stable, or that a triad dissolve in acrimony and misunder-standing. As the members of small groups become aware of the tenden-cies involved in their living arrangements, they may be able, with some help from the larger congregation, to deal with the problems that arise. It is hoped that this article will be a first step in the process by which Dyads and Triads religious communities harness the dynamics of dyads and triads and con-vert them to truly life-giving forces for the religious life of the future. NOTES ~ See Sandra Schneider, New Wineskins:Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), pp. 252-255. 2 Georg Simmel, The Sociology ofGeorg Simmel, trans. Kurt H. Wolff, (New York: Free Press, 1950), p. 123. 3 lbid, p. 124. '~ lbid, p. 126. 5 Ibid, p. 123. 6 Ibid, p. 137. 7 Patricia Wittberg, "Transformation in Religious Commitment," REVIEW FOR RELm~OUS 1985, Vol. 44, pp. 161-167. 8 Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), pp. 116-120. 9 Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (New York: Free Press, 1980), p. 289. ~0 Kristin Wombacher O.P., (n.d.) "American Religious Life Since Vatican II: Change and Continuity." Unpublished paper, p. 245. ~ lbid, p. 235. ~2 Simmel, op cit, p. 139. ~3 lbid, p. 148. 14 Please note that this article does not predict that there will be no stable triads in a congregation, merely that these will be relatively few compared to the number of stable dyads. Large, institutional groups of religious may also remain essentially un-changed over the years. This large group stability would be due, however, not to the abstract effects of number, but to the personal inability of the individual mem-bers to move on, whether because of age, psychological inflexibility, or the simple belief that a given congregational work would not survive were they to leave it. Evaluating Religious Community Costs David E. Meier, S.J. Fr. David Meier, S.J., serves as a financial consultor for the Detroit Province of the Society of Jesus. He is also the treasurer of the Jesuit Community at the University of Detroit. His address is Jesuit Community; Lansing-Reilly Hall; University of De-troit; 4001 W. McNichols; Detroit, Michigan 48221-9987. Point of view is a factor in literary evaluation, an element of artistic per-spective, and a determinant of political affiliation. Point of view is equally an essential criterion for determining what is meaningful in any financial assessment. A number of conditions can be identified which affect the financial data being analyzed. Some of these conditions merely color the data, so that a simple new cast of mind, like the addition of a filter on a camera lens, will provide an improved impression. Another condition may be rather like a fun-house mirror, which distorts the data, often so beyond one's normal frame of mind that the data loses all cogency. 1. Point of View--a Perspective When religious superiors are mystified because they do not find mean-ingful comparisons between per member costs of living in their local com-munities, their point of view is frequently at the heart of their mystery. Failure to advert to their perspective is what leads them to ask, "Why can't we get reliable comparisons between the per member costs at St. Agatha and St. Theresa?" Concern for lifestyle quickly introduces estimates for the amounts of money needed for community support under varied assumptions about a standard of living. Often enough the "common sense" expectations 52 Evaluating Religious Community Costs about a reduction in per diems are contradicted in the reality. Later in this article a number of conditions which merely color data will be examined. These should not be allowed to distract religious su-periors from a key condition which actually distorts the data which enter into their decisions. 2. Full CostDMarginai Cost Distinction Religious superiors should be conversant with the economic distinc-tion between full cost and marginal cost. This is the key condition for avoiding distortion in comparing per member costs for various commu-nity sizes. The effect of this distinction is especially significant when deal-ing with small numbers, say three to forty, which is representative of the size of most local religious communities. This distinction brings eco-nomic discernment down from the clouds to the refectory and the com-mon room. Consider, for example, an education community of thirty members which devotes hours of discussion trying to decide whether it is economi-cally preferable to have ten retired members rive apart in a separate com-munity from the twenty active teachers. Another study tries to make economic sense out of establishing a new community for a few retired members in a parish facility which has more room than is needed by the parish personnel. .The approach to these economic determinations will most often be reduced to measuring the per member cost. And here is where the dis-tortion can arise! Are the per member costs to be measured as full cost or marginal cost units? The difference can be of surprising magnitude. 3. Marginal Cost Marginal cost begins at the very edge of full cost. Whatever is the total cost of providing for the housing, food, personal, institutional, and automobile expenses of a 30 member community constitutes the commu

Issue 49.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1990. ; Liberation and thel~iturgical Year How to Read St. John of the Cross Lasting Friends Volume 49 Number 6 November/December 1990 REVIEW I:oa REL~GIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United States $15.00 for one year; $28.00 for two years. Other countries: US $20.00 for one year; if airmail, US $35.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGOUS; P,O. BOX 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. ©1990 REVIEW yon RELIGIO~S. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. November/December 1990 Volume 49 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW roR RELIGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available oft cassette recordings as a service for the visu-ally Impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. As we come to the end of another calendar year, we also find our-selves bridging the end and beginning of our Christian liturgical year. November is like a summary or review month--a past looking towards a future. It always begins with the two days commemorating all the saints and then all the faithful departed; it closes with a Sunday celebration of the eschatological feast of Christ the King. With Advent and with the Christmas season, we listen and we look--listening anew to the words of biblical prophets and looking upon the Word become flesh. Perhaps we better describe it as a future looking to the present. The divine call of hope coming through the prophets and being enfleshed in Jesus touches the human heart. It rouses the deepest of hu-man desires--to experience oneself as free in a world which is free and to experience peace within oneself and peace without. Most of the arti-cles in this issue involve a looking back and a looking ahead. At the same time, they also touch the present--with our experience of peace in its vari-ous forms, and with our experience of freedom. The articles by Kennington, Rich, van Breemen, and Kerr take up various implications of what has been identified as liberation theology. The origins of liberation theology are found in the so-called Third World countries, particularly in theological writers of South America. More broadly used in the Church, this theology has become a studied way of understanding, articulating, and living out our Christian faith so that we may affect situations and policies which tend to breed injustice and un-freedom. Liberation theology can sometimes seem to condone or even advocate some kind of violence. But no theology can merit the name Christian which is not permeated with a peace which only God can give. Liberation ~theology, especially when viewed in its spirituality, is most of all a theology of the kind of peace sung about by the angels on that first Christmas night. Perhaps one or other of these articles will be a kind of Bethlehem star for us, leading us to a place of greater freedom and peace, either within ourselves or without. Of special interest to a number of our readers are certain upcoming anniversaries. With the feast of St. John of the Cross celebrated in De-cember, there begins the 400th anniversary of the death of this great mys-tic, 1591-1991. Steven Payne, O.C.D., editbr of the Carmelite journal 1101 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Spiritual Life, provides us with some contemporary approaches to John's spiritual doctrine. Thomas Moore, O.C.D.S., tries to provide us with some basic directions to enter more profitably into the rich teaching of John. In celebration of another anniversary, our January/February 1991 is-sue will be unique in its focused selection of Ignatian spirituality arti-cles and book reviews. The year 1991 marks the 50th volume of REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS, and the first issue of this volume will honor the Ignatian spirituality tradition, which is celebrating the combined anniversaries of 450 years since the founding of the Society of Jesus and 500 years since the birth of St. Ignatius Loyola. As we close out the first half century of this publication with this is-sue, the staff of REVtEW FOR RELmtOUS wishes all of our readers a Christ-mastide full of the blessings of peace and of freedom. David L. Fleming, S.J. Bethlehem Star: Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries Paddy Kennington Paddy Kennington is presently teaching literacy education in shelters for homeless people in Raleigh, North Carolina. With her master's degree in counseling and psy-chology and a graduate certificate in spiritual direction from Washington Theologi-cal Union, she also serves as an area formation director for the Third Order, Society of St. Francis, Episcopal Church. Her address is 2404-1C Bradford Dr.; Wilson, North Carolina 27893. Spiritual direction training and spiritual directors can become part of the praxis of social ministries. If the goals and purposes of social ministries are restricted to serving food, providing shelter, and legislative advo-cacy, worthy as those activities are, then God's wider plan of transform-ing grace and unity may never happen. The learning accumulated in spiri-tual direction training and experience can be part of the organization and spirituality of a social ministryin the Church. A graced life is not a pri-vate life. We are meant to become "breach menders and restorers of ru-ined houses" (Is 58: 12). One way to rethink thb relationship betWeen spiritual direction and social ministry as spirituality in action is to 'draw parallels between the two in the context of the concrete experiences of volunteers and street persons in a soup kitchen. This seems to me to be one method to dem-onstrate the thesis that spiritual direction has a role in social ministry. The Center for Spirituality and Justice in New York City has investigated the necessity to include an awareness of social consciousness as part of the spiritual direction relationship, t The reciprocity between spiritual di-rection skills and principles and social action is equally important in the daily hands-on ministries of shelters, clothing banks, and soup kitchens. 803 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Two stories of volunteers and street people illustrate the need to include spiritual direction with social action. The Soup Kitchen Antonio In early 1983, four of us from the Social Apostolate soup kitchen in Savannah, Georgia, organized an emergency winter night shelter. The next year, we added an evening soup kitchen and health care. Eventu-ally, I became the first director. 1 met many men and women like Anto-nio who appeared one fall evening in our soup line. He was wearing an over-sized woman's coat. Antonio's suitcase had remained on the bus that left him while he was looking for food. What funds Antonio had in his pockets had vanished quickly into slippery street fingers. After visiting the health-care clinic in our building, we discovered Antonio was thoroughly infested with lice. We also realized he had a men-tal disability and with his friendly, innocent manner, was not able to cope with the violence of street life. Antonio arrived in town in time for the opening of our winter shelter. Luckily, we were able to get him off the street each night. After a few days, the local Catholic Worker became Antonio's tem-porary home. He was an outgoing person and tried to fit in with our com-munity at the soup kitchen and with the Catholic Worker family. Anto-nio wanted to work and contribute to his keep. But his attempts at typ-ing for us and for the health-care nurses were disastrous. One of the nurses convinced him to write to his family in New Jersey. We began to get frantic phone calls from them, and were able to persuade his fa-ther not to get on the first plane to rescue Antonio. One winter evening as the volunteers were converting the hall from soup kitchen to night shelter, Antonio and I sat next to the front door while we waited to take the names of that night's guests. He turned to me and with his eyes averted as usual, asked, "Paddy, what's this place really all about?" I thought a moment and then said, "It's like a bus station, Antonio. People get off the bus, out of the streets, for a little while. They stay with us until they get back on the bus and move on." He turned that over in his mind and said, "Yeah, that's right. That's what I did. I'm staying here and then I'll move on, too." Antonio did leave eventually but not before he had struggled with his reasons for suddenly running away from his home in New Jersey. I think he struck out on his own because he wanted to know if he could take care of himself. Antonio's parents were overly protective and his Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / 805 brother pushed him hard to excel beyond his handicap. On the other hand, his disability did not keep Antonio from searching, questioning, and striving for what he believed to be his freedom. His questions and sense of independence may have taken a different expression from yours or mine. But the restless heart of St. Augustine was the same for Anto-nio as it is for all of us. In the spring while the azaleas and dogwoods were blooming, Anto-nio returned to his home and family. In the last letter we received from him, he told us about the computer course he was taking. One afternoon the following fall, a care-package of used jeans and winter shirts from Antonio arrived at the shelter. He had not forgotten those still on the bus. St. Teresa discovered after experiencing the prayer of union, that the Lord had been waiting many years for her "yes" to the Creator's gift of spiritual treasures and blessings.2 In his desire to d~cide the course of his own life, Antonio had said yes and gone out to find the courage to make his dream of freedom and independence come true. Bonnie I am always amazed at the intensity of emotion sometimes shown by volunteers toward the poor and street people. Initially, most soup kitchen volunteers are hesitant and even afraid. Few are prepared for the reality of human degradation, begging, and manipulation one is exposed to as part of the daily routine of providing minimal food to hundreds of hungry men, women, and children. Some turn away in tears or disgust; others are drawn to their fellow human beings through compassion, like moths to a flame. But sooner or later if they don't walk away, the inevi-table questions will arise. How can they live like this? Why doesn't the city do something? Where will they sleep tonight? They are all so sad; doesn't this get to you after awhile? Bonnie was a kind, loving woman from one of the many church groups that volunteer on a regular basis one evening each month. I had noticed Bonnie on her firsf day of volunteering while she was serving sandwiches. During her next few evenings in the serving line, she was withdrawn and reluctant to interact with the guests, as though she would rather be in the kitchen. Bonnie avoided any friendly contact except to plop a sandwich on a waiting plate. I had hoped for an opportunity to speak to Bonnie privately during the cleanup routine. "Well, how was it in the serving line tonight, Bon-nie?" I asked as dishes and pots were being scrubbed. She looked down at her feet and said anxiously, "Seeing all those men eating here really bothers me. My husband and I work hard for what Review for Religious, November-December 1990 we have. Why can't they get a job? Why am I expected to take care of them with my hard-earned tax money?" Clearly, Bonnie was torn emotionally between the teachings of Je-sus on love and charity she had heard all her life, and her present feel-ings of indignation, anger, and disgust. And the ~onflict inside showed on her face. This was not a time for reminders that we are to pray for God's forgiveness and strive for empathy for others. At that moment, what Bonnie needed was understanding and peace. I knew she could not yet be aware that coming to resolution about her feelings and attitude to-ward the soup kitchen guests meant that she herself would become the broken bread offered by Christ on the cross. Bonnie was too full of bit-terness and frustration. "I'd like you to meet one of our guests sometime, Bonnie," I said to her gently. "He's quite a character. And I hope you'll give us and yourself a second chance before you make up your mind about soup kitch-ens and street people." "I don't think I'll be back," Bonnie said. 'I just can't stand seeing all those lazy men ripping us all off, when they could be working and taking care of themselves." Her face was lined with anger and she pushed the broom even harder on the dining hall floor. I shared a few words of comfort but I did not push her to commit to another volunteer shift. Bonnie needed time to sort out her feelings. About two months later, I saw Bonnie walk in the front door with her church group. She still had a look of hostility and reluctance. I was afraid that if she could not get beyond her anger, she might lash out at one of the guests, or cause them to react to her in a negative way. "I'm glad you came back, Bonnie," I said. "Maybe you'd rather work in the kitchen instead of the soup line today." "No," Bonnie replied grimly. "I'm going to try the serving line one more time." "Maybe you'll get to meet Jim later," I suggested. "We'll see," she said. I was busy that suppertime and didn't get back to Bonnie until the end of the serving. I had Jim by the hand when we approached her. "Jim, I want you to meet Bonnie,'" I introduced them. Jim smiled a semi-toothless grin and shoved his hand toward Bonnie for a friendly shake. She shook his hand. I wondered what it took from her to give that little inch. "Jim is a regular here, Bonnie. He's been with us a long time," I explained. "Jim is one of the first guests we were able to help get off Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / il07 the streets. Now he helps out with cleanup and carrying in heavy food boxes." I backed out of the conversation as Jim was bending Bonnie's ear about his latest fishing exploits. Later Bonnie found me in the laundry room. "Jim's a real charac-ter and I realize why you brought him over to me," she said. "I haven't changed my mind about the rest of the men. But I do see that there may be more to the soup kitchen and the guests than I've been willing to admit," Bonnie confided. "I guess I need some time here to figure it all out." "All of us had to begin somewhere, Bonnie," I replied. "Maybe a place to start is thinking of the guests, volunteers, even the food--the whole soup kitchen--as sharing God's love. I would be glad to listen any-time you want to talk through your frustrations," I said encouragingly. We exchanged a hug. Bonnie gave me a big grin when she left with her friends. As a shelter and soup kitchen director, I found I needed to be teacher, counselor, community organizer, and peacemaker. But there was also a greater need than crisis intervention and social work referral for housing and health care. In the context of providing meals and shel-ter in a church social ministry, people were drawn closer together. They were forced to interact, ask questions, and struggle with conflicting emo-tions and injustices. I saw the need for a guide who had been exposed to the tradition and teachings of spiritual directipn. One who has lived enough of his or her own spiritual journey to be able to recognize oth-ers' struggles and to offer spiritual leadership beyond cooking, cleaning, and begging would be a good job description. Spiritual Development and Social Ministry Antonio, Bonnie, and many others in the soup kitchen have shown me that there is a lot more to hands-on church social ministries than giv-ing out sandwiches, collecting clothes, and providing shelter. I had scarcely been at St. Luke's soup kitchen (Atlanta, Georgia) two months before I realized that volunteers' needs were as critical as those of street people. Having worked with a large number of soup kitchen participants in the last eleven years, ! have seen that they often progress through spiri-tual growth stages. These stages generally correspond to the spiritual de-velopment outlined in the writings of such spiritual masters as St.-Ter-esa of Avila, St. Ignatius, St. Augustine, Thomas Greene, and Bernard Lonergan to name a few. 1. Awakening:3 Soup kitchen volunteers and guests are spiritual seek-ers in much the same way as directees are in spiritual direction. The soup Review for Religious, November-December 1990 kitchen director must establish an atmosphere which nurtures the possi-bility that all participants might be seeking spiritual growth along with advocacy, washing dirty dishes, and consuming numerous cups of sugar-filled coffee. Often the food sought and given is as much spiritual as physi-cal. The social ministry as a community needs to encourage the devel-opment of relationships as brothers and sisters rather than helpers and de-pendents. The Holy Spirit prods us all and no less so in the serving line of a soup kitchen. One of the most frequent comments from new soup kitchen volun-teers is one of surprise. They cannot wait to tell me, "I never knew it would be like this." The new volunteers sometime become so enthusi-astic they want to solve all the social ills and problems at one time. In their hurry to do something, they fail to let the totality of the soup kitchen experience filter into their inner depths. The impact of the similarity be-tween their own lives, hopes, and desires and those of the street people may elude them. Street people would seem to come to a soup kitchen because they need to eat, get out of the rain, or read the newspaper for a job. All of these reasons are usually true. But many also come from spiritual and psychological hunger. They need to be affirmed as human beings. They want friendship and to know that someone cares about them in the midst of their loneliness and alienation. And like everyone else, they have dif-ficulty in asking for what they want. Anger, manipulation, begging, pro-crastination, and even lethargy can mask a more basic plea for the love and compassion that cannot be found on the hostile streets. Casting volunteers and guests as mutual seekers of God's love helps to lessen the artificial line between dependent and provider. However, raising the awareness of both that each has gifts to offer the other may carry some risk. Life in'the streets dictates survival at all costs and is a set of learned behaviors. This might mean guests are immersed in the violence of poverty and substance abuse. Emotional problems, poor so-cialization skills, and mental illness are magnified by the stress of not knowing where the next meal or bed for the night will be found. Volunteers may come to a soup kitchen to play out an unhealthy need to dominate. They may see themselves as rescuer or savior. Volunteers can even burden already embtionally drained street people with their own consuming need for acceptance and love masked by acts of charity. These are reasons enough for soup kitchen managers and volunteers to have some training in lay qgunseling and spiritual direction. Meager funds for supplies and staffing and lack of housing, jobs, and Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries services may force participants into a negative emotional drain and the constant crisis of problem-solving. The stereotypes of despair and dis-ease of social distance can be lifted from guests and volunteers. Despite a naive or discouraging beginning, guests and volunteers can progress beyond the initial stage of being locked into a give-and-take, us-versus-them, relationship. The community's life depends on its ability to jug-gle logistical and physical demands with emotional, psychological ones. An awakening to the spiritual life of the soup kitchen for both volunteers and guests is enabled by the continual return to the wellspring of hope, the Holy Spirit. 2. A Hard Look: After the introductory experience, the volunteer usu-ally begins to ask, why? Why are so many people living on the street? Why are the mentally ill and sick not hospitalized? Why am I expected to take care of the lazy? And then, why am I going home to comfort when these people have so little? Why does not somebody do something? This may create conflicted feelings for those who see themselves as car-ing, religious people. The good intentions of even the most dedicated vol-unteer can fade into frustration and resentment. But in spite of these dif-ficulties, questioning becomes the seed of opportunity to widen one's ho-rizons and allow a graced transformation. If questions arise and expectations are challenged for volunteers, they are doubly so for guests. Even the most dejected and apathetic of the poor hold their dignity and self-worth as a jewel more valuable than food or shelter. A bowl of soup or a sandwich firmly thrust back to a surprised volunteer will attest to a guest's rejection of real or imagined insensitivity. While many long-term street residents have given up ques-tioning injustices or reasons for their meager living, just as many will talk for as long as anyone will listen to a recollection of past slights, in-dignities, or woes. We all need to tell our stories. And once in awhile, some thought-provoking wisdom and insights can be the reward of the patiently attentive volunteer. The volunteer's emotional struggle with the realities of soup kitchen and street people can be everything from threatening to enlightening. Con-fronted with painful feelings, the need for empathy with guests, respon-sibility, and sometimes guilt, some soup kitchen volunteers turn away. They seek other ways to express an option for the poor. Others find ex-cuses to reject the homeless. They blame the victim. Barriers may be erected; barriers of power disguised as benevolent decision-making and anger as righteous indignation. Still other volunteers begin to realize the humanity and humility they share with all peopl+ as children of God. The Review for Religious, November-December 1990 same compassion that emerges from questioning and consciousness-raising impels these volunteers to seek a deeper understanding and ex-perience of the wounded Christ-of-the-streets. 3. Judging--the Bottom Line: Volunteers who persevere join the regu-lars in the social ministry community. They adopt a favorite job or rou-tine of doing the various daily tasks. They come to accept the dilemma of soup kitchens and street life as having no comfortable answers nor neat solutions. Success becomes enough soup or sandwiches for a day's meal, finding eyeglasses for a guest who needs them for work, or locat-ing temporary housing for a young family with children. Old hands be-come well acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of particular guests. Friend-ships develop. New, bewildered guests are shepherded through the soup kitchen routine which has over time become the bricks-and-mortar of daily operation. Success in social change is also expected. Volunteers point with pride to street people who attain middle-class goals: jobs, apartments, sobriety, and normalcy. Experienced volunteers begin to draw parallels with some of Jesus' teachings and parables: the Good Shepherd, those who are last will be first, and workers paid equally for differing times of service. More enthusiastic volunteers may take on the task of main-taining the organization with fund-raising and building renovation proj-ects. The disparity between the homeless people who remain jobless, clothed in rags, and in need of food and shelter and coworkers and fam-ily who enjoy a more comfortable lifestyle is less a focus than getting the job done. Many of the poor who have lived on and off the streets are way ahead of new volunteers in a spirituality of detachment and interior search-ing. Destitute and lacking the basic necessities of food and shelter, they. are forced to fall back on inner resources. Some street survivors exhibit an inner depth of understanding and resilient wisdom of Jesus as Libera-tor. They reflect an unshakable faith and contemplative spirituality. I sometimes wish I could be as in touch with my dark side as they seem to be. However just as often, incredible stress, fear of violence, and physi-cal and mental deprivation block the development of these means to over-come depression and despair. The rhythm of daily life of the soup kitchen community rises and falls with the extreme heat of summer, winter cold, Friday paydays, and surplus holiday charity. Volunteers and guests come and go. When guests do not meet expectations of a middle-class work-ethic or a period of sobriety or mental stability ends, volunteers may become discouraged Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries and leave to find greener pastures and better shepherds. But the very rest-lessness that seems to hinder an inner, spiritual examination is also an invitation to challenge preconceived ideas of what is success in a social ministry. The soup kitchen and night shelter offer daily opportunities to let go of cultural or popular false standards of guests' worthiness. 4. Light from Darkness: Volunteers who get beyond the questioning stage and embrace the compunction that follows a realization of their so-cial and inner blindness witness to an enlightened conversion. Their pri-orities change. They begin to view themselves, their families and friends, churches and institutions, and most of all, the guests, with changed hearts and minds. Ragged clothes, disagreeable behaviors, and unwashed bodies fade from importance. Guests are no longer bums and derelicts but James, Mary, and Charlie. "I've been given so much more than I could ever give" is the comment most often heard. This social conversion is possible because participants have experi-enced nurturing community with other volunteers and guests. They have shared in the applied collective wisdom of spiritual guides and masters conveyed by effective social ministry managers and leaders. The soup kitchen manager/spiritual director must focus on community building that encourages everyone processing through the four steps of spiritual growth. After facing the disheartening reality of streetlife poverty and violence, volunteers and guests come to realize through the attentive di-rection of experienced ministry leaders that their only meaningful re-sponse must be one of being as well as doing. Social ministry teachers can model a definition of being that elimi-nates the artificial yardsticks that manipulate and shape people's lives in ways our Creator never intended. Being comes to mean accepting the brother or sister, volunteer or guest, who chooses self-defeat or an un-sympathetic and often critical, closed mind. And most of all, being means seeking the Psalmist's humble and contrite heart in the midst of rejection and the temptation to put distance between self and other. A simple illustration is the end piece from a loaf of bread. Uniniti-ated volunteers might toss the heel into the trash without a second thought. Seasoned veterans however, make use of every scrap by turn-ing the heel outward. They remember lean days of not enough bread for the many sandwiches needed. They have seen men, women, and even children go hungry. Not only are they grateful for our daily bread but they appreciate their own helplessness in the face of grinding poverty and suffering. These volunteers have come to see God face-to-face in the eyes of the poor. Every gift of Creation has become precious to them. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 This is only one of many daily lessons the soup kitchen community can teach and the conscientious director can encourage. Success in the soup kitchen is God's gift to define and to give. Bib-lical personhood and scriptural freedom empower a realization of our need to be vulnerable to each other. We bring all we are, past and pres-ent, to the soup kitchen serving line. Through our relationships, our hearts are stirred to question and search our inner selves and to reach out to our neighbors as to God.4 After finally co.ming to understand and em-l~ race Jesus' meaning of Go.spel poverty, the point of conversion for the social ministry activist becomes the same as the contemplative/directee: the unitive experience. Antonio and Bonnie taught me through their searching and struggle that social ministry can be as much a place of spiritual seeking and guid-ance as my experience of spiritual direction. I saw that people in soup kitchens and shelters were asking for what spiritual direction had to of-fer. God's love for us and desire to be with us through the gift of Son and Spirit is the eternal constant. Our task as both spiritual directors and spiritual guides in social ministries is to be willing to struggle for con-tinued openness and vulnerability to that gift brought to us by guests and volunteers. Soup Kitchen Managers and Spiritual Directors The previous illustrations invite practical ways to integrate action and contemplation, the personal and the social, in soup kitchens and spiri-tual direction. The work of both soup kitchen manager and spiritual di-rector is a good example of the interconnection of spirituality and spiri-tual direction with social ministry. Volunteers and street people usually do not ask for spiritual direction from soup kitchen managers. And di-rectees do not often associate social ministry with their prayer life un-less encouraged to do so by their spiritual directors. But hunger of the heart and searching for God's love and guidance pervade both environ- I am suggesting that soup kitchen managers and spiritual directors must examine the opposite side of their area of expertise to lead to a more balanced ministry and to be more open to God's promise for justice and mercy. However, social ministry managers need not become spiritual di-rectors nor directors, soup kitchen managers. The interactions between a soup kitchen manager, volunteers, and street persons are not the same as those in spiritual direction or intervention. The methods of social min-istry organization and management, schools of spirituality (Ignatian, Fran-ciscan, Carmelite, Augustinian), socio-political thought, and even life Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries goals for directees, volunteers, and street people may vary widely. But these two activities have more similar than dissimilar aspects. Identifying the importance of spiritual direction and social action as part of an integrated whole in both ministries is the concern of effective managers and directors. The issue is the recognition of the reciprocal con-nection between the two ministries. The question is not whether the soup kitchen responds first to physical or spiritual needs. Nor is it whether con-templative prayer or an awareness of social consciousness predominate in spiritual direction. There are several points where spiritual direction and social mifiistry coincide: A. Holy Spirit: Our ministries and our lives must flow from Holy Scripture and the indwelling Spirit of Christ. The guidance of the Holy Spirit must always be foremost in our own paths and our involvement in the journeys of others. Discernment of that guidance is discovered in community with others in both individual spiritual direction and in so-cial activities such as soup kitchens. We need to support and nourish each other in our experience of and search for God's gift of love. B. Purpose and Goals: Any spiritual director will admit that before a working relationship can be established with a directee, a determina-tion of what the directee desires from direction must be explored. The goals and purpose of direction must flow from the life, prayer, and ex-periences of the directee. A soup kitchen is no different. On the surface, the purpose may seem to be distribution of food, social work, a sympa-thetic ear, and hopefully, the strength to go on another day. But the mo-tivations of the volunteers, manager, and street people in the soup kitchen community must be considered as important and basic as pro-viding soup, sandwiches, and even friendship. Unconscious messages about worthiness, authority, manipulation, and social statements can creep into the daily life of any hands-on social ministry or spiritual direction relationship. We must be clear in what we are about as helping people and .as concerned, activist communities to-ward those who seek direction or bread. The consequences can be the perpetuation of the suffering and oppression of the poor, a hindrance of the spiritual unfolding and growth of direct.ees, and a floundering for guid-ance by volunteers and workers. The ministry can become part of an on-going or potential problem instead of an instrument of God's peace. Openness to seeing God in my neighbor is fostered by encouraging healthy interaction between guests and volunteers. Joint meetings of both provide insights for planning, alleviate misunderstandings, and build com-munity among participants. Goals clarification and the scriptural basis Review for Religious, November-December 1990 or theme of the soup kitchen needs to be discussed and reiterated through training sessions with volunteers and in meetings with volunteers and guests. Quarterly soup kitchen orientations can offer the opportunity to learn communication and listening skills, positive ways to vent anger and frustration, and sharing feelings of sadness and pain. Attention to detail can encourage the mandates of the Gospel good news, peace and justice for the people of God. Trained volunteers who mingle ';vith guests during mealtimes can facilitate a calm release of the pain, rejection, and dehumanization of street life. Colorful banners do-nated by supporting churches or made in guest/volunteer sessions help to illustrate and affirm the soup kitchen's scriptural themes, such as the Good Shepherd, Matthew 25, and the Bread of Life. Seasonal celebra-tions, monthly birthday recognition, and encouraging on-site social ser-vices help to foster a family-oriented environment. We must live what we believe especially when becoming open to an awareness of the real-ity of the peace and justice of Jesus. C. Street People and Directees: People who live on the streets in ab-ject poverty are God's children in crisis. The wounded, hungry bodies that line up each day for food are also wounded spirits who directly or indirectly seek the fellowship that feeds the heart. All participants in the social ministry community, volunteers, staff, and street people, need to be aware of and be sensitive to the friendship needs as well as physical needs of the other members. The requirement goes both ways amongst volunteers and guests. Soup kitchen managers can no more ignore the Gospel good news of empowerment for the poor than can a spiritual di-rector become heavy-handed with advice and admonitions for the di-rectee. This sensitivity is necessary if everyone is going to move beyond lim-iting their efforts to subsistence needs and toward the mandate of Jesus, friendship, peace, and justice. Tho.ugh the goal of personal and commu-nal empowerment of poor people may seem distant and unobtainable, it is our Bethlehem star. If we do not keep in our awareness and striving the justice promised by God and echoed by Mary in her song, the Mag-nificat, our ministry, faith, and words will become St. Paul's metaphor, the clanging cymbal. The guidance and leadership for discernment to-warc~ this justice most often falls to the manager and spiritual director. Likewise, with directees, the spiritual director has a responsibility to dispel the myth of our tradition that the experience of God and the love of Christ can be a personal, private affair.5 The totality of a graced, trans-formed life is not for the benefit of the directee. St. Teresa of Avila re- Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / ~1"15 minded us that we are meant to be the eyes, hands, and feet of Jesus in the world today. The Center for Spirituality and Justice has demonstrated a social-consciousness aspect to spiritual direction that must be part of the journey of director and directee if there is to be true discernment of .God's will~6 D. Volunteers: Church social ministries can be an extension of Je-sus' example to share ourselves and the fruits of the earth, food, shelter, and resources, with those in need. A deeper responsibility and outgrowth of the working of God's grace in everyone's life is stretching out a physi-cal and spiritual hand in friendship and unity. But for many middle-class volunteers who have never experienced the poverty, degradation, and suffering of those who live on the streets, a first-time exposure can be unnerving and challenging to their comfortable lives. Street people are not the only soup kitchen participants who experi-ence emotional crisis. Seeing firsthand the suffering and dehumanization of street life, many volunteers are distraught when they connect their rela-tively comfortable lives with the misery of homeless people. When food, clothing, an offer to listen, or a smile is refused with unkind words, vol-unteers may feel confused, rejected or angry. A misunderstanding be-tween guest and volunteer can result in "yes" instead of "no" as the answer to an inappropriate query. Just as street people bring their emotional baggage in the front door, volunteers can unload psychological traumas, too. Unresolved sexual needs, psychotic disorders, substance abuse, and authoritarian domi-nance can cause serious problems in the soup kitchen, community. Even though volunteers' emotional issues can't be compared to the sufferings of street people, a soup kitchen manager having some training in lay coun-seling and spiritual direction is helpful for the emotional and spiritual di-lemmas faced by volunteers and guests. For the social ministry manager just as for the spiritual director, their own spiritual direction and a peer group providing support, wisdom, and guidance needs to be part of the organization of the ministry. E. Leadership: Managers and Directors: The relationship between a soup kitchen manager and volunteer or street person is not identical to that of a spiritual director and a directee'. However, the responsibilities of the manager and director in regard to the spiritual foundations of their work with others and their own spiritual journey are so similar that com-parisons can be made. If a soup kitchen 6r.any social ministry is not to become a sterile institution, the guidelines or working plan of operation must be thoughtfully and prayerfully discussed and discerned over time. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 "What is God's will for me" in spiritual direction is parallel to and comparable with "What is God's will for us, volunteers and street peo-ple," in a soup kitchen. The spiritual director and the direction relation-ship provide the backdrop against which the directee wrestles with his or her issues in listening to a loving God. Likewise, the basic rules and logistics of feeding hundreds of people daily must be wrestled with so that dignity and the love we show each other are not compromised using the excuse ofjoblessness, smelly clothes, or efficacy in operation. While including the poor and powerless in decision-making roles can be threat-ening, it is the fulfillment of Jesus' Good News. The soup kitchen manager and the spiritual director are responsible not for the success of the kitchen, the progress of the directee, or even determining what connotes that success or progress. One who seeks to lead must be a follower; a manager or director must create an environ- " ment whereby volunteers, street people, and directees seek their own spiri-tual journey with support and guidance for discernment of God's will for them. The outward emphasis may differ from soup kitchen to spiritual direction but for the director and the manager, the spiritual task is the same. Conclusion There is value in drawing parallels in principle and practicality be-tween contemplative spirituality, spiritual direction and social conscious-ness, and the theological and spiritual organization of social ministries. Flexibility and imagination are necessary to compare the leadership and organizational abilities of a soup kitchen manager with the skills and train-ing of a spiritual director. We can show that the experiences of the vol-unteers and street people can follow a pattern of spiritual development. And directees and their spiritual directors can explore the social as well as personal experience of the Holy Spirit in their lives. In the face of violence, learned dependency, ignorance, and biased prejudices, hearts and minds as yet unawakened are waiting for the power of God's transforming grace: Spiritual direction and social min-istry are not two journeys originating from disparate starting points. Each of these spiritual paths flows from the other and back to nourish those who find themselves to be both contemplative and activist. Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries NOTES i D. Bernsweiger, D. McCarty, and L. Rhodes, Eds. Spirituality, Ministry, and Field Education: Theological Field Education, Key Resources, Vol. V. (San Francisco: Assn. for Theological Field Education, 1986), p. 52. Research by the Center for Spiri-tuality and Justice, Bronx, New York, on spiritual direction and social conscious-ness. "Social consciousness" as based on Peter Henriot's, (S.J.) thesis that the re-ality of the human person must take into account the individual, interpersonal, and public dimensions of human existence (p. 5 I). A person is simultaneously engaged in intense intrapersonal activity and consciousness, ongoing interpersonal relation-ships, and living out her or his life within a set of established and defined structures and institutions in the societal area (p. 52). 2 St. Teresa of Avila, The Collected Works of St. Teresa ofAvila: Vol. One, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C. : ICS Pubs., 1976), p. 125. 3 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology. (New York: Seabury Press, 1972), pp. 8- 20. The four stages of enlightenment for soup kitchen participants is based on Lon-ergan's transcendental method. '~ Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Unity of the Love of Neighbor and the Love of God." Theological Reflections, Vol. VI. (New York: Seabury Press, 1971), p. 232, p. 239. 5 lbid, pp. 242-244, 246. 6 Bernsweiger, McCarty, and Rhodes, pp. 53-54. Morning Office Here in my house of silence I stand beside you, Zachary. The song you cannot sing Trembles on your lips;. My song Pours in wordless rivers From quiet eyes. We stand together Lonely, waiting to sing Our canticle. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. St. Scholastica Priory 7430 North Ridge Chicago, Illinois 60645 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality Linda Rich, C.D.P. Sister Linda Rich, C. D. P., is a graduate of the Institute of Pastoral Studies at" Loyola University of Chicago. She currently works as part of the administrative team of NET-WORK, a national Catholic social justice lobby in Washington, D.C. Her address is 806 Rhode Island Avenue, NE; Washington, D.C. 20018. In the past one hundred years, and more vocally in recent years, part of the Christian community is specifically addressing social problems through systemic and structural analysis and applying Christian value prin-ciples to these problems (for example poverty, war). In the North Ameri-can and European culture, theologians, bishops, and the Vatican are do-ing this analysis and reflection by developing social ethics and a large written corpus of Catholic social teaching. In other cultures, Christians are interested in finding ways to make the Gospel real through experiencing liberation from injustice. This in-dicates that the developing social ethics need a lived reality, an experi-enced spirituality if we, as a whole community of the People of Go~l, are to respond to this recovered Gospel of social justice. That void is now being filled in and fleshed out. The writers and think-ers in the fields of spirituality and social justice are beginning to coa-lesce, to meet on mutual ground. Liberation theologians are now writ-ing about the spirituality of liberation: for example, Spirituality of Libera-tion: Toward Political Holiness, Jon Sobrino, Orbis Books, 1988, and The Way of Living Faith: A Spirituality of Liberation, Segundo Galilea, Harper & Row, 1988. North American spirituality writers are now speak-ing of how spirituality is intimately linked with social transformation: for example, Social Re~,elation: Profound Challenge for Christian Spiritu- 818 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality ality, James E. Hug, S.J. and Rose Marie Scherschel, Center of Con-cern, 1987, and Spirituality and Liberation, Robert McAfee Brown, West-minster Press, 1988. Grass-roots movements within the Christian community are also bring-ing spirituality and justice together. The Catholic Worker movement con-cretely lives out social spirituality as envisaged by Dorothy Day and Pe-ter Maurin more than fifty years ago. They feed the hungry and welcome the homeless, while at the same time challenge the social structures that create this reality. As such, they speak against the national budget pri-orities for weapons instead of a priority for food and housing, for exam-ple. They are joined with others in the peace movement, the feminist/ women's movement, and the racial and economic equality movements, which all have collectives of people who are motivated and sustained in this activity by the Christian call to discipleship and by other spiritual values and beliefs. While these manifestations of justice spirituality are all happening within the Christian community, the message of the social justice dimen-sions of spirituality have not yet been carried into the mainstream, how-ever. A new theology and practice of spirituality needs to be unfolded, articulated, and fostered in the Christian community-at-large. A new un-derstanding of how spirituality is, and needs to be, vitally connected with justice will then begin to emerge for the average Catholic in the pew. Donal Dorr comments: "Perhaps the most effective way in which the Church can influence human behavior is by promoting a particular kind of spirituality." ~ Personal and Social Transformation Spirituality and social justice are closely related, both being trans-formative processes. Spirituality, as I am using it here, is our process of personal transformation. Through spiritual practices (meditation, prayer, liturgical ritual) and through the living out of the fruits of these in our lives, we become better persons, more loving, more congruent with the values we profess. We grow and mature as persons and become psychologically and spiritually integrated. Justice is the process of bringing social groups into right relation-ships with each other. It is the transformation of legal or violent enforce-ment of the domination of one group of people over another (men over women, rich over poor, one race over another). Justice transforms domi-nant/ submissive relationships into partnerships.2 Oppressive violence is transformed into peace and freedom when justice is present. Both justice and spirituality are journeys into freedom, moving from 820/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 being bound to a more free state. There is movement from being en-slaved by forces outside our control to having choices about our lives. This movement happens (and power is shifted) by our being able and will-ing to take up the struggle for freedom and undergo the suffering re-quired. "There is no transformation of person or society without suf-fering, and the suffering which brings about such change is truly re-demptive.' ,3 And so, it is very important to discern and determine which particular path leads to greater life through death and which path leads to dead ends, defeat, and a conquered death. Each choice, whether stay-ing with things as they are or choosing for change, has its own risks and consequences. These must be carefully considered. And as in any authen-tic journey, there are risks and perils along the way. Courage, persever-ance, and support from others are required for both the personal and so-cial transformative journeys. We can see some parallels between justice and spirituality. There is also an integrity present that is often missed. Both are needed in con-junction with each other to have true justice and true spirituality. This is so because either of these in isolation from the other is destructive. Historical examples include the way the Church sometimes has pro-moted an escapist spirituality which accepted injustice for other operat-ing benefits by the political powers that be. On the other hand, in socie-ties that have repressed spirituality and religion, great violence has been done in the name of social equality. This also plays itself out within the Christian community where division is created, with splits of "devout" and "activist" factions who distrust each other. Experience shows that spirituality and social justice are a graced dynamic, and split off from each other render both ineffective, irrelevant, and destructive. When these two are integrated, however, the world and the Chris-tian community are graced with life-giving energies. There are many ex-amples in our North American experience. Pax Christi, a Catholic peace organization, uses a threefold approach of prayer, study, and action, com-bining the elements of spirituality and activism. They are in the forefront of efforts to promote a vow of nonviolence, a wonderful way of rooting a committed life of peace within a rich spiritual tradition. The commu-nity of Sojourners (Washington, DC), as part of the Christian evangeli-cal tradition, ministers through their monthly publication, neighborhood organizations, justice resources, and organizing national days of prayer and nonviolent resistance. NETWORK is a national Catholic social jus-tice lobby that attempts to influence the formation of public policy in the interest of the poor and powerless. It lobbies members of Congress to Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality enact laws providing access to economic resources, fairness in national funding, and justice in global relationships, Another facet of the relationship of personal and social transforma-tion is that these two are not necessarily simultaneous or synonymous; one does not automatically follow the other. A liberation scholar states it this way: Social change by itself does not create a new person, in the same way that transforming persons do not automatically induce a new social or-der. The creation of a new person and a new social order takes place within a dialectical interaction.4 So we can see that a conscious link needs to be made between our spiri-tual growth as transforming persons and our justice work of transform-ing society, or that link will not be made. Some people who invest time and money in the human potential move-ment for personal psychological and spiritual growth make the social con-nections beyond themselves, and some do not. Those who fail to con-nect their personal growth to a wider social vision will probably become shortsighted, turned in on themselves (stunted), and "whistling in the dark while the world goes to hell in a hand basket." Likewise, some so-cial activists who spend tremendous amounts of personal time and en-ergy organizing campaigns for justice do so from the fruits of their spiri-tual growth, and some do not. Those who fail to connect to a spiritual source will probably fall victim to burnout, cynicism, and self-righteous-ness. It is essential, I think, to recognize the inherent integrity of spiritu-ality and social justice within a "both/and" holistic framework. Too often they have been split apart, to the detriment of both. This dichot-omy needs to be healed and is being healed in the coming age. Conversion and Social Liberations In my experience, the education and consciousness-raising of justice work begins to effect a real transformation process in individuals, and in groups of people. This journey of transformation and liberation is one of conversion, a qualitative change, a living of life in new ways. Con-version (whether religious, intellectual, individual, or social), involves a three-part process of !) dying to the old, 2) an in-between period, and 3) a new orientation. Initially we feel confusion and conflict, we experience a resultant in-ability to continue living as we have been, and we know the need to find ~199 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 new ways of living. Once this process is entered into, things will never be quite the same again. (You cannot put the toothpaste back in the tube.) We find that we may creep slowly or may suddenly leap into a different frame of reference. We are brought into a whole new level of relating-- with a social consciousness~to God, to ourselves, and to others. Albert Nolan describes our growth into social consciousness in four stages.6 (He addresses this to the specific problem of poverty, though the principles can be applied in regard to other oppressed groups of people as well, it seems to me.) The first stage is characterized by our compas-sion, brought about by exposure through experience or information re-garding the sufferings of the poor. This compassion is generally ex-pressed in two kinds of action: relief work (distributing food and alms-giving), and simplification of lifestyle (voluntary poverty). The second stage is entered when we acknowledge the structural prob-lems as social in.justice. Things are the way they are because social struc-tures are set up to serve the interests of some people over others. Anger and guilt may arise when we become aware that poverty is largely a re-sult of oppression. Now our charity of the first stage is joined by justice in the second; both are necessary. In the third stage, we join humility with service to the poor. We need the poor for our liberation, also, and often we are unaware of the gifts they are and have for us. It is this humility (owning our own poverty) that tempers our "doing for the poor" into befriending them. At the same time, one hazard here is to put the poor/working class on a pedes-tal, to idealize them into something they are not. This can lead to disil-lusionment, disappointment, and burnout when we discover the illusion of our own making. The fourth and last stage is one of.real solidarity. This is the experi-ence of recognizing the faults and weaknesses of the poor as well as of ourselves, and at the same time, knowing that we can be on the same side against oppression. Now we experience the struggle of liberation to-gether. The second major aspect is that social consciousness is an essential part of conversion, not the results of it. Socioeconomic life is not a corollary to our relationship with God. It is not simply the arena in which conversion and love of God flow out into love of neighbor--if God so leads us. Social concern and work for jus-tice are not just the outgrowths of Christian conversion. Prayerful involve-ment in socioeconomic life and reflection on it are prerequisites to know-ing and relating intimately with God, not the results of it.7 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality/ This concept is rife with implications for the i~ntegration of social con-sciousness into our spiritual life. If we discern God's revelation to us ex-clusively in our interior movements (within ourselves), then "we receive only a partial, distorted image of God. We are ignoring part of the reve-lation of God. We run the danger of fostering, . . a selfless, dedicated and energetic service of the status quo with aH its unjust institutions."8 Our spirituality, without the social revelation component, will most likely, though unwittingly, serve the continuance of injustice. A third connection between conversion and the transformative pro-cess of justice is the image of liberation for the spiritual process. Rather than relying exclusively on the traditional image of union and intimacy with God for spiritual growth,9 we may well include "conversion as lib-eration" as a complementary image. For truly all conversion is a liber-ating experience from our false selves and an enlivening and freeing ex-perience of our true selves. As the image of spiritual union speaks to the part in each of us that seeks attachment, belonging, and inclusion, the image of liberation speaks to the part in each of us that seeks freedom and autonomy. For people who are victims of others and/or society, for people who feel enslaved interiorly by addictions or by life circumstances, this lib-eration process imaged and named as such can be a tremendous motiva-tion and empowerment for change in personal and spiritual development and for social activism. Paul proclaims: "The world itself will be freed from its slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:21). Implications A great challenge lies before us. World crises every day remind us of how fragile and precarious our planet and our common situation is as human beings. We can deny and numb ourselves to this reality. We can let it in and live in despair and be crushed by it. Or we can forge new ways of living, "ministering to the breakthrough" (as named by Pat and Gerald Mische of Global Education Associates) of a surviving and just world. Members of religious congregations can be in the forefront of this breakthrough, on the prophetic cutting edge a's it were. We have a pub-lic role in the Christian community and many congregations are interna-tional. More than one congregation now has Non-Governmental Organ-izational (NGO) status at the United Nations. These and other innovative ways to minister to the breakthrough can be communally explored and implemented. Though each congregation faces the lack of personnel and 8241 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 finances in a different way, we can continue to be supportive of those people and organizations that integrate faith and justice. The integration of spirituality and justice is a key component of min-istering to the breakthrough. It requires a change in thinking as well as in acting, in theory as well as in praxis. Only the combined strength of the theory and practice of spirituality and justice will carry us through into the future. NOTES ~ Donal Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Ma-ryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1983), p. 59. 2 Riane Eisler, The Chalice and the Blade: Our History, Our Future (San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, 1987), pp. 198-203. This shift is elaborated on in depth here. 3 Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J., Beyond Anger: On Being a Feminist in the Church (Mah-weh, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 83. '~ lsmael Garcia, Justice in Latin American Theology of Liberation (Atlanta, Geor-gia: John Knox Press, 1987), p. 80. 5 See Osiek, Beyond Anger, p. 44-63, for an insightful development of conversion and transformation in a liberation context. 6 Albert Nolan, O.P., "Spiritual Growth and the Option for the Poor," Church (Bal-timore, MD: National Pastoral Life Center, 1985), Spring issue. 7 James E. Hug, S.J., and Rose Marie Scherschel, Social Revelation: Profound Chal-lenge for Christian Spirituality, (Washington, D.C. : Center of Concern, 1987), pp. 22-23. 8 Ibid, p. 23. 9 In Francis Kelly Nemeck, O.M.I. and Maria Theresa Coombs, The Spiritual Jour-ney: Critical Thresholds and Stages of Adult Spiritual Genesis (Wilmington, Dela-ware: Michael Glazier, 1987), union and intimacy image is used throughout. Spirituality of Liberation Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father Peter G. van Breemen, S.J., author of well-known books such as As Bread That Is Broken and Called By Name, has most recently been serving as Jesuit tertian director in Berlin. His address is Peter-Faber-Kolleg; Postfach 220018; Am Schwemmborn 3a; D-1000 Berlin (Kladow); West Germany. Much is being said and written nowadays about Theology of Liberation. The deliberate alteration to Spirituality of Liberation suggests a shift to-wards a less controversial and a more meditative approach. Spirituality The word spirituality stems from spirit. In the Old Testament it re-fers to the ruach as the divine source of human life, and in the New Tes-tament to the active presence of the Holy Spirit in our everyday personal and communal life, where it renders our faith concrete in our actions and behavior. The word spirituality also intimates that life has come to a cer-tain harmony and synthesis: what could remain a fairly objective and sometimes even abstract doctrine has become a source of life and inspi-ration; it has become integrated and operative. Spirituality is lived in the community and becomes fruitful within it, since the Spirit 'is given pri-marily to the community, and to the individual only in the community. So much about the first word of our title. Liberation The word liberation has generally more political overtones than the related word redemption. When Gustavo Gutti6rrez coined the expres-sion "Theology of Liberation" and used it as the title of his book (Lima, 1972), and when a number of his Latin American colleagues took over this expression, they wanted to make redemption more down-to-earth 826/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 and more relevant for the struggle for life. There should be no real doubt that the theologians of liberation want to articulate the Christian faith-- drawn from Scripture, received from Jesus Christ, and handed on through the Catholic Church---even though the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith "On Certain Aspects of the 'Theology of Liberation,' " published in 1984, had a number of criti-cal remarks and even though one of its leading theologians (Leonardo Boff) was silenced for a year. In fact, that very Instruction plus another one of March 22, 1986 basically approve and praise the Theology of Lib-eration. It is not surprising that the rapid development of the Theology of Lib-eration in the last two decades has led to a variety of meanings of the word liberation. What unites, however, all the different schools of lib-eration theology is that--in various ways--they are all inspired by and support a movement, a dynamic, in which the poor and the underprivi-leged draw strength from their faith to fight for their dignity and against unfair exploitation. The heart of the Theology of Liberation is to be found in this movement; it is lived before it is articulated. Undoubtedly this theology (and this movement) began in Latin America, but it is equally certain that they are to be found in other parts of the world as well, like the Philippines, South Africa (Kairos document), India (State-ment of the Indian Theological Association), and other countries. What these countries have in common is obviously their great need for libera-tion, but also that Christianity is fairly recent there. Quite often, with a touch of humor, the Church in these countries is compared with a young woman, hardly twenty years old, in which comparison the Church in Europe is portrayed as an elderly lady. Along with their youth, these Churches also stress their vigor and their hope. It is a little touchy, though not unfair and not disrespectful, when they describe the climate in the European churches as winter and in theirs as spring. Let me just conclude from these remarks that a spirituality of liberation and the di-vine virtue of hc~pe go together. Pope Pius XI (1922-1939) was the first Pope tostress the place of indigenous churches. In 1926 he consecrated in St. Peter's in Rome six Chinese bishops, the first non-white bishops since the early Church. That is less than seventy-five years ago! Whereas all the Fathers of the First Vatican Council (1869-1870) were natives of Europe or North America, the Second Vatican Council gave a completely different picture. Thus it is not surprising that Vatican II speaks highly of the variety of local churches with "their own discipline, their own liturgical usage, and their Spirituality of Liberation own theological and spiritual heritage" (Lumen Gentium 23). "The Chair of Peter, it is said, protects legitimate differences, while at the same time it sees that such differences do not hinder unity, but rather con-tribute to it" (LG 13). Though not without friction and pain, this shift of the center of gravity from the Western world towards other continents goes on speedily. The prognostic indicates that in the year 2000 thirty percent of the world's Catholics will live in Europe and North America, and seventy percent in the southern hemisphere (that is, Latin America, Africa, Asia, and Oceania). We live on the eve of a new equilibrium of the Church. One sign of this is that non-western schools of theological reflection arise. They form a challenge and offer a chance. They can en-rich the people of God immensely. Covenant In a spirituality of liberation, the covenant plays a vital role-- indeed, the covenant is the very origin of our liberation. This may sound rather paradoxical, since covenant denotes a bond that binds us, which looks like the exact opposite of liberation that sets us free. Yet, Sacred Scripture is basically the long story of human liberation, precisely be-cause it is the history of the Covenant of God with his people--first with the Jewish people in the Old Testament and later in the New Testament with all God's people. From the bond of this covenant true freedom springs. This brings home to us the important truth that freedom in the Bible is not unbound, arbitrary, individualistic or irresponsible. Freedom does not mean that one can do what one likes; on the contrary, truly free per-sons are not governed by likes and dislikes, but act according to their inner convictions and conscience--in short, their true self. Freedom im-plies honesty and courage, transparency and authenticity, maturity and responsibility. Sometimes God is called the deepest Ground of our being. Even though the expression may be rather recent, the idea is not new at all. The classic phrase of St. Augustine "God is closer to me than I am to myself" says basically the same thing. If God is the deepest Ground of our being, then it is only in union with him that we can be our true selves and act freely. God is not constraining, but it is only in and through him that we come to life and freedom. Modern psychology confirms this view. It is only in a basic trust in another person (normally the mother) that the child reaches self-confidence. It is only in the security which the mother gives to the child that the latter finds the courage and even the ability to reach out. The 828/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 greater the confidence in its parents, the more open the child will be. What we can observe very clearly in children reveals a characteristic which remains through the whole of life. A person who is secure in the love of someone else can afford to go out into the ever widening space of life and to respond to the world's ever growing challenges. True freedom is the fruit of true love which one has experienced and/ or is still experiencing. I shall not dwell on the sad and often tragic as-pects of the counterpart of these psychological data, but rather state that for me these psychological insights point to God as the ultimate fulfill-ment of our basic need. Of course, I am aware that I make a jump from the level of psychological experiences to the level of faith. I am not try-ing to prove anything, only to suggest and to hint. It is in the covenant that God gives his chosen people the security we are talking about. "I shall be your God and you shall be my peo-ple" is God's summary of the covenant. God binds himself to his peo-ple; he is their support and guarantee. In doing so, he invites the people to bind themselves to him in faithful obedience. When the people accept this invitation, the bond of the covenant is the basis of their freedom. At an early stage of the Jewish history this mighty care of God as the origin of their freedom is exemplified in the exodus from the slavery in Egypt. In fact, one can say that the Exodus is the beginning of the Jews as a nation; up until that moment they were no more than a gang of slaves, who were exploited in unbearably hard forced labor (Ex 2:23). It is in the miraculous event of their liberation from Egypt and their pas-sage through the Sea of Reeds that they become a people. God reveals himself as their God, their liberator, the origin of their national identity. From generation to generation they keep celebrating the marvel of their liberation as the outstanding evidence of the covenant. It is in the context of this liberation from slavery that God reveals his name: Yahweh. Volumes have been written about the meaning of these four Hebrew letters, yet the scholarly research of centuries remains inconclusive. Is it a sign of God's transcendence or of his sense of hu-mor (or of both) that his name remains mysterious in its being revealed? So much seems certain that the name Yahweh is existentially a boundlessly affirming word and intellectually just as boundlessly com-prehensive (that is, not to be grasped). He is there, absolutely reliable and absolutely incomprehensible. In their exodus the Jewish people have experienced their God, whom they gradually discover to be the God of all nations and of all creation. In their exodus they have learned that God hears the cry of the poor and takes their side. We meet here the begin- Spirituality of Liberation ning of a strand that runs through the whole of Scripture, stressing God's care for the poor and the needy, the orphan and the widow. Eventually this will lead to some sort of identification of God with the weak and the little, for example, Psalm 91:15 and Matthew 25:40, 45. In their exodus it was also brought home to them that Yahweh works through people: God. has no hands but ours; compare Exodus 3:8 with 3: 10. In their history with Yahweh they discover that he is "always greater." That is indeed a very pertinent characteristic of God. No mat-ter how great we think of him, he is always greater. No matter how much we have experienced of him, he remains always greater. That keeps us always on the move in our relation with God. The chief expression for human life in Hebrew means: to wander, to travel, to hike. The early Christians called themselves "the people of the way." Thus the exodus is a basic distinction of true religion, not an exodus once and for all, but ever so often repeated. And so freedom is not only the fruit of our exo-dus, but also its prerequisite, Liberty is both gift and demand. That is to say how much our faith is a religion of liberation. In apostolic reli-gious life unconditional pliability with respect to the will of God which can never be predicted and never be fixed takes shape in a continually adaptable apostolic availability. Paschal Mystery So far the name of Jesus has not been mentioned. It is in him that God became incarnate; it is in him that liberation receives hands and feet, a body and a voice and a face. His name, in Hebrew Yehoshua, means "Yahweh saves." Jesus embodies the saving God. He embodies this sav-ing God in a concrete, historically, sociologically, and politically well-defined situation. The incarnation of the eternal Son of God implies the taking-up of a human life with all the specific conditions of a particular society in a particular time. Perhaps the most striking feature of Jesus' dealing with the people of his time and country is how free he is as a person and how free he renders others (Lk 4:!8). This freedom is not simulated, but has deep roots. He is free, because at the same time he is one with the Father. What we found as the true source of freedom of the Jewish people, namely the covenant with Yahweh, we find infinitely more in Jesus of Nazareth. He was bound with Yahweh in his very person: "one in be-ing with the Father" (see Jn 10:30). Accordingly, he always did what pleased the Father and called the will of the Father the food on which he lived (Jn 4:34). That made him a free man and enabled him to free others. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 The miracles he works are presented by the Evangelists, especially by John, as "signs," which point out who Jesus is and what God stands for. Though accepted gratefully and often enthusiastically by many con-temporaries, the signs are rejected by the political and religious leaders. They decide to kill Jesus. The prospect of his suffering and death meets with a profound inner resistance, which in Gethsemane brought a terri-ble distress over him; yet he is free enough to say yes to his passion and crucifixion (Jn 10: 17). Jesus dies on the cross as a consequence of his mission. But God stood by his Son, in and beyond his death. God raised him to new life, a life over which death has no more power. We call this the paschal mystery, in analogy to the passover-event of the Old Testa-ment. The liberating event of the Old Testament was the exodus from Egypt; in the New Testament it is the death and the resurrection of Je-sus. The paschal liturgy from its earliest origins considered the crossing of the Sea of Reeds as a prefiguration of Jesus' passing through death to the risen life, so much so that among the many Old Testament read-ings of our Easter Vigil Exodus 15 is the only one which is obligatory. Here we touch the heart of the saving and liberating mission of Je-sus. In the various forms of our creeds we confess about Jesus: his in-carnation, and then omitting every other event of his life, his passion, death, and resurrection. No miracle, no sermon, no teaching, no contact with any person, no feature of his personality, not one event of his hid-den or public life is mentioned. In every creed one jumps from the birth of Jesus straight to the paschal mystery, which constitutes the core of our faith in Jesus. The paschal mystery is like a tunnel, that obviously has two ends which are connected and thus make the one tunnel. So death and resur-rection are two sides of one mystery. It is of the essence of the gift of faith that one can see the one side of the mystery in unity with the other: the passion in the light of the resurrection--the risen Lord with the wounds of his crucifixion. It is precisely the unity of these two events, crucifixion and resurrection, that makes us free. Jesus is savior and lib-erator because he is at the same time the suffering servant of Yahweh and the glorified Lord. The tunnel leads into the realm of freedom, like the passage through the Sea of Reeds led the Jewish people into the prom-ised land. The Gospels are written from this certainty. They narrate the events of Jesus' life, but in the light of the resurrection. It is this per-spective that we call inspiration (see Jn 8:28; 12:32). It reveals to us not only the redemptive and liberating thrust of Jesus' life, but it also takes us up into that same dynamic. It is the mystery of the grain of wheat Spir!tuality of Liberation / which yields fruit only by dying in the ground (Jn 12:24). It is the call of Jesus, not to hold on to one's life, but to lose it for the sake of the kingdom (Mk 8:35). Fulfillment These words are not meant to glorify human misery nor are they to be used as a cheap consolation to those who suffer. Rather we ourselves in the first place are to take them to heart, if we want to follow Jesus and to be apostolically fruitful. Every human person strives for fulfill-ment. This is perfectly in line with God's purpose, for example, John 15:8. But there is a way of striving after self-fulfillment and self-unfolding which is not in line with God's intention. As soon as one for-gets or denies that true Christian fulfillment goes through renouncing one-self and taking up one's cross (Mk 8:34) and dying like a grain of wheat, one is moving on the wrong track. Then my own physical well-being, my settling into a comfortable lifestyle, my need to be appreciated by those with whom I live and deal, bonds of friendship, my desire to make the most of my talents, success in my work, and so forth begin to play too great a role and stifle my religious and apostolic life. Since this topic is not only very vital indeed, but also very delicate, let me stress that the values mentioned are positive and good. However, as Christians we believe that we truly obtain these values when we do not hold on to them, but are willing to lose them for the sake of Jesus and the kingdom. This brings about the attitude of freedom, in the evangelical sense of the word. An essential aspect of Jesus' freedom was his readiness to accept suf-fering and to lay down his life (Jn 10:17), even though he agonized when the actual passion began. Similarly, a disciple of Jesus cannot follow his or her master without this freedom to give up precious personal human values (Lk 14:33). The Bible gives us many examples of negative experiences which eventually turn out to be quite positive. It is the lesson which Jesus in a remedial class brought home to the disciples of Emmaus (Lk 24:26). It is the lesson which Moses was taught in Exodus 33:18-23. It is the les-son that the evil is far worse than we admit, but that the good is also much greater than we dare to hope and even can bear. It is the lesson which all of us have learned in life: what at the actual moment was felt like a great loss, often revealed itself in hindsight as a real grace. The biblical message, confirmed by our own life experience, may help us to become more free in regard to our own life and more free in our apos-tolic service. 839 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 It is, of course, a platitude to say that only those who are themselves liberated can help to liberate others. But this platitude is also a little sim-plistic. It seems more nuanced to say that as the Father wants us to be creative with him, likewise the Son wants us to be redemptive with him and wants to continue his work of liberation in and through us (Gaudium et spes 34 and 67). In this way we point out more clearly that our own liberation is a lifelong process and that it is only God who can work true freedom in ourselves and in others. We have to complete th'is statement by saying that God can work this true freedom only through us. So it is our mission to help the people experience the liberating God. In his encyclical Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975), Pope Paul VI stressed that evangel-ization proclaims and tries to realize liberation. This evangelization and this liberation aim at the whole person, .as the same Pope wrote already in an earlier encyclical Populorum Progressio (1967). Respect I suppose this renders respect a key concept in our service of libera-tion: a great respect and regard for the dignity of each human being, that is to say, of ourselves and of others. Respect is the heart of love, and in many ways the word respect is more meaningful than the word love (which, alas, is sometimes used so vaguely and glibly). Respect means to acknowledge the worth of others as other, that is, to relate to them not as we want them to be, not as we think they should be, not as they fit into our plans, but as they are. It also means to discover in these real people their defects, and to accept them. There is a wise and dense say-ing of C.G. Jung: "One can only change what one, has accepted." What we reject or condemn or repress goes beyond our reach; we cannot do anything with it nor for it anymore. I am convinced that the lack of respect does a tremendous harm in our communities, in our apostolate, in our Church, and in our world. If we could come to a basic attitude of respect for each human being, the world would become a so much better place to live in and the Gospel-message would become so much more real and convincing. This respect should not be an aloof, detached, disembodied attitude. If it is, it contradicts itself. Clodovis Boff expresses the opinion that Euro-pean culture tends to screen itself from the "two-edged sword of the Word" (Heb 4:12) with a highly developed, but spiritualistic, exegeti-cal, and sociological sophistication. "Europeans only?" one might ask. As our respect for each other has to be integral, so has the liberation we work for. We cannot restrict it either to the spiritual or the political realm. Spirituality of Liberation / 833 The Poor The word integral can also be understood as including all men and women, though the word universal might be more appropriate in this case. With that meaning in mind, integral or universal liberation requires a special concern for the poor and the weak. This is certainly in line with a trend that runs through the whole of Scripture. God shows a preferen-tial love for the poor, which leads to a certain identification with the poor-est, as mentioned above. The cry of the poor is heard by God, yes, even the curse of the poor (Si 4:5; Ex 22:22). As for the New Testament, the cry of Jesus on the cross is sometimes said to continue in the cry of the poor. That cry comes from the seventy percent who are underprivileged and undernourished--the majority of whom can hardly survive, let alone live in dignity. The Bible demands our solidarity with them. They are the present-day locus where we meet Christ. It is in them that Jesus is to be found. We may need a conversion of heart and a radical change of our lifestyle in order to live up to this demand of the time. There is a use of the word freedom which is meant to deny just that. Nuclear weapons are claimed to protect freedom, which, in fact, means only "our" freedom, and that, in turn, stands really for our power and affluence. These self-interests, however, are maintained at the expense of other people's lives, and their "protection," therefore, runs counter to the actual demands of the Gospel. Integral or universal liberation requires that the poor are not the only ones liberated, and that liberation is not understood only economically. There may be certain biases sometimes, which do harm to the integrity or wholeness of liberation. It shows the greatness of a theologian like Leonardo Boff, that for example, in his volume Jesus Christ the Libera-tor he writes some pertinent pages precisely to denounce such a bias. Structural Sin Recently another aspect of integral liberation has come to the fore, namely, liberation from "social sin" or "structural evil." Of course, Christians have always known of sins in the social sphere, and also of the social aspect of every sin. It is new, however, to call social struc-tures themselves sinful. It has taken some controversy to clarify that the word "sin" in this expression is used in analogy with the personal sin we had known hitherto. Both good and bad actions can embody and per-petuate themselves in structures, which are accordingly good or bad, and, once established, are the source of further good or evil. So certain structures are called sinful, while they originate from and in turn lead to personal sin. They definitely restrict our freedom and often they ten- Review for Religious, November-December 1990 der us unfree to a considerable extent. The individual is in those cases often both cause and victim. Those who create these structures or main-tain them or profit from them or even in complicity tolerate them are guilty. This social sin is part of the mystery of iniquity that cries for libera-tion towards the Lord of history and brings out the human race's need of redemption. It is by no means easy to admit this sin for oneself, to free oneself from its entanglement, and to work for liberation of others on this level--far more difficult usually than in the sphere of personal sin. One can be certain that attempts towards changing these structures will bring 'with them many personal inconveniences, hardships, threats, loss of friends and relations, in certain countries imprisonment, torture, and even death, as many have found out, especially in the last decades. When I interpreted freedom as a readiness to accept suffering, I had these kinds of situations in mind. A person who is not free to suffer cannot think of working for liberation from structural sin. Vulnerability is a genu-ine assurance that we are in touch with reality, truth, and love, not self-interest. Here, more than anywhere else, it is important to realize that God is the chief agent in overcoming evil, and that we are cooperators with him, instruments in his hand, branches of the vine. Without this con-viction coming from faith, the challenge would overwhelm us. A Church which is too much concerned about itself, its own image, and its own problems cannot tackle this task, just as an individual who is too egocentric cannot engage in it. The Church has to proclaim the Lord Jesus, above all in his paschal mystery of death and resurrection, and not proclaim itself. Liberation in its many aspects requires the over-coming of all self-centeredness, both in the individual and in the Church. The more the Church is focused on the person of Jesus and not on itself, the more the Church will be able to discover what men and women of other religions and other visions are doing for liberation, and to cooper-ate with them. It seems to be a special task of the religious to help the Church to focus on our Lord and Savior and thereby to be open to all people of good will who pledge themselves to liberation. Obviously, we can only help the Church in this by doing it ourselves and by being loyal to our Church. Dangers Much praise has been sung to the spirituality of liberation in this ar-ticle, and rightly so. Some dangers must be mentioned also. Not to cool down our commitment, but to safeguard it. I do not want to elaborate on these dangers, yet it seems unfair to me to pass them by completely. SpiritualiO, of Liberation / ~135 So let me just give the headings as I found them in an article ("Como Fazer Teologia da Libertac~o," published by: Vozes, Petr6polis, Bra-zil 1986) written jointly by Clodovis and Leonardo Boff: - a neglect of the mystical roots - a rampage of the political aspects - a stifling of the faith through too much discussion - a tendency towards exclusiveness and absolutism - an exaggerated emphasis on the discontinuity with the tradition and an underestimating of the continuity - a negligence of a serious dialogue and discussion with other spirituali-ties -a lack of care to make the theology of liberation understandable and pal-atable to the authority in the Church, which delays the conversion of the Church to the poor. After having rushed through these dangers, let me close with a quota-tion from the encyclical of Pope John Paul Redemptoris Mater and with a word of hope. Mary "Drawing from Mary's heart, from the depth of her faith expressed in the words of the Magnificat, the Church renews ever more effectively in herself the awareness that the truth about God who saves, the truth about God who is the source of every girl, cannot be separated from the manifestation of his love of preference for the poor and the humble, that love, which, celebrated in the Magnificat, is later expressed in the words and works of Jesus. The Church is thus aware--and at the present time this awareness is particularly vivid--not only that these two elements of the message contained in the Magnificat cannot be separated, but also that there is a duty to safeguard carefully the importance of 'the poor' and of 'the option in favor of the poor' in the word of the living God. These are matters and questions intimately connected with the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation. 'Mary is totally dependent upon God and completely directed towards him, and, at the side of her Son, she is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe. It is to her as Mother and Model that the Church must look in order to understand in its completeness the meaning of her own mission' " (Nr.37). Hope It is common among the theologians.of liberation to stress the hope Review for Religious, November-December 1990 that is manifest in their movement. To work and to struggle for libera-tion for any length of time is impossible without authentic hope. This hope is not identical with optimism. Optimism emphasizes the positive aspects and draws attention away from the negative, tends to underesti- ¯ mate the latter, and even to repress them. It may be a pleasant attitude, but it is often not quite realistic. Hope, on the contrary, faces the difficulties and the pain, yet does not lose heart. Hope is more than an impulse. Hope makes us faithful and persevering. Hope discloses a great strength, which is beyond us. Hope is able to sail its own course with every wind, even with head wind. Charles P6guy portrays hope as a little girl between her two big sisters who hold her by the hand. It looks as if the two big ones lead the little one, but the opposite is true. It is hope that keeps faith and love alive, young, and vital. The basic communities and the other groups that embody the libera-tion movement are centers of hope. This hope is not an acquired, but an infused virtue--that means beyond us and yet in us as a divine gift, as a fruit of the paschal mystery. "Through him (Christ) you have confi-dence in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith is hope in God" (1 P 1:21). Compline Salvation danced In the dark Of Mary's womb, Was paid with blood On a black hill, Then rose for all From death's dead tomb. So I must trust Your grace unseen Till from life's grave I, too, am freed. Kathleen T. Choi 1706Waianuenue Avenue Hilo, Hawaii 96720 Liberation and the Liturgical Year ¯ Susan Anderson Kerr, Ph.D. Susan Anderson Kerr is an Oblate of St. Louis Priory in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is 4209 Avenue F; Austin, Texas 78751. When we observe the culture around us and see the emptin~s_.s of living apari ~?o~m ]he liturgical year, we see that the liturgical ~ar is hot some pious preoccupation of people with a taste for the archaic. It is a ques-tion of survival, of urgent importance for an age hungry for liberation, and respectful of those who survive. It is a question of freedom, of vast relevance for our culture which reveres freedom, struggles with addic-tions, and seeks personal liberation from materialism, sexism, racism, and a host of enslaving isms. In an age of decline and disintegration such as ours, many people turn to the inner life to exert the yearning for goodness and truth and beauty which in another era would have had a greater possibility for ex-ternal expression in politics or art or education. The pain of the loss of knowing how to do things--how to accomplish civic reforms, how to com-bat drugs and violence, how to overcome the hedonism and cynicism of our time---can send people on a spiritual quest. So we have an outpour-ing of books on the inner life--Jungian psychology, individual prayer techniques, popularizations of the great works of Catholic spirituality. But if we attend only to our individual spiritual growth while neglect-ing liturgical spirituality, we try to walk to the heavenly Jerusalem on one leg. The Lord does not intend for us to so hobble. Part of the reason we neglect the liturgy is that it effects our healing so circuitously, circling like the rings around the trunk of the tree. We want results now; we are on fire with intentions. Romano Guardini once observed that liturgy is much more like a forest where one wanders than a gymnasium where with fixed purpose one exercises certain muscles. 837 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Another reason we slight the liturgy is that those great masters of the spiri-tual life--St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Ignatius of Loyola--who are such help to us wrote at a time of liturgical decadence when desiccated liturgies were an obstacle to spiritual growth. When we try to walk on both legs, liturgical as well as individual prayer, other saints will help us, saints who wrote when liturgy and spiri-tuality were not at cross purposes, saints in the monastic tradition, like St. Benedict and St. Gertrude. The Vatican documents of the renewal of the liturgy are also useful in correcting our understanding of the value of liturgy. Personal prayer is a logical place to begin as one searches for encoun-ter with God, but to linger there is to remain a spiritual adolescent. To relate the liturgical year to the individual's private life of prayer is to ad-dress a practical question: why pay attention to the liturgical year? If I am learning centering prayer, or the Jesus prayer, or my Enneagram num-ber, or how to relate to my anima or animus, why do I need the liturgi-cal year? Is this not a formal structure which has nothing at all to do with the rich spontaneity and diversity of my inner life? "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free," the Church sings each morning. And so God has. The liturgical year invites us into liberation in three areas: freedom from chronos and cyclical time, freedom from nature, and freedom from the tyranny of our unconscious. First, the liturgical year helps shape our understanding of the mean-ing of time. It removes us from the pagan sense of time as repetition, nature's cycle endlessly repeating itself, and from the atheist's concep-tion of time as pure chronos. It introduces a.God-ward momentum and shaping of time, an upwardly moving spiral. Empty repetition and end-less succession are replaced by repetition at higher levels on the spiral, by kairos punctuating chronos, or chronos building to and being shaped by kairos. Like a lovely shell, the liturgical year has been extruded cen-tury after long century as the Church needed more space in which to dwell. The liturgical year gives us a common memory. This happens on sev-eral levels: on the cosmic level, as Pierre Teiihard de Chardin describes, the Church evolves towards the omega point; on the historic level as the Church organizes time before and after our Lord's death; on the personal level as our individual existence takes its place in this great spiral flow-ing towards God. Intimately linked with our common memory of the liturgical year is Liberation and the Liturgical Year the common authority which establishes it. The Church has to maintain the central focus on the life of Christ, balancing between a proliferation of feast days which would result in a loss of shape to the Church year, and the impulse to celebration which led one desert father to exult "Life is an eternal festival." Second, the liturgical year frees us from romantic identification with nature. But what does the liturgical year express about our relationship to nature? Partly organized around the sun, partly around the moon, the liturgical year demonstrates as Odo Casel remarks, the maxim "Grace builds on nature." The week evolved from divisions of the lunar cycle, for the Hebrew festal calendar, like the first calendar cycles of most primi-tive religions, was lunar. The Jewish lunar months were divided by sab-batical weeks; the Mosaic sabbath is based on 7 as a perfect number, ex-pressing completion and fullness. The Easter celebration evolved from the Jewish liturgical cycle which had gradually replaced nature rituals with festivals commemorating Israel's history of salvation. Unlike the polytheistic peoples around them who made the powers of nature divine, the Jewish people came to see nature as a tool and im-age of the spiritual. The feast of Pesach had nomadic roots, for it is cele-brated at the first full moon after the vernal equinox when a young male lamb is sacrificed, roasted, and eaten. But its central focus is the reen-actment of the deliverance of Israelfrom the hands of Egypt. When Je-sus transformed this feast by identifying himself with the sacrificial lamb, he lifted it from its local origin and universalized it into the feast of the salvation of all human beings of every time. But Easter does not thereby shed its lunar and historical associations. Thus the cyclic observance of the vernal equinox is lifted first into the hope of renewal in human history recalled in the Passover festival, and then universalized in the.final eschatological hope of Easter. We see a similarl appropriation of ~natureir~ the use of the sun in the liturgical year. Jesus, as the light of the world, was identified with the sun. His birth is celebrated at the winter solstice, transforming and uni-versalizing the pagan festival of the sol invictus. His conception is thus celebrated nine months earlier near the vernal equinox, March 25. Since according to Luke 1:26, John the Baptist was conceived six months be-' fore Jesus, his conception is observed at the autumnal equinox, and his birth, by extension, at the summer solstice June 24. Thus the two equi-noxes and the two solstices are brought into the Christian year and trans-formed from cyclic rituals to feasts of the birth of life and light into this world's darkness. ~140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 John the Baptist's feasts are also associated with the sun's activity; in the fourth century they were seen as cosmic confirmation of John's own words "He must increase; but I must decrease" (Jn 3:30). The prayer of the Divine Office is also organized around the sun; the two most important hours occur when the sun rises and when it sets. Here the beginning and ending of the day are bound up with the life of the Lord: the sun's rising is an image of his rising from the dead; vespers, when the sun sets, the beginning of a new day, is eucharistic in charac-ter, full of thanksgiving for the light that has been. The Church uses nature as the basis for sacred time, but does not re-main encased within natural rhythms. The liturgical year steers the Chris-tian away from romantic identification with nature, from new age senti-mentality about its saving power, as well as from Gnostic fear of the ca-pacity of creation to convey divine purposes. Like an enormous tree nour-ished with roots deep in our personal and collective unconscious, it also teaches respect for natural processes, for slow growth, for rhythms be-yond human control. Finally, the liturgical year unfetters our freedom from the tyranny of our unconscious. When Moses stood before the burning bush aiad saw that this was holy ground, he entered a new place to live. That place is prayer; it is man's response to God's holiness and comes into existence only in communion with God. We can compare this to the common ground that exists between two friends; when I get to know someone, drawn by mutual interests or complementary personalities, a territory of shared experience grows between us. As the holy ground between man and the divine extends in time, so is born the inner liturgical year. "Moses, Moses, take off your shoes, for the place on which you stand is holy ground" (Ex 3:5). Liturgy must be interior as well as exterior for it to be whole. The structures of worship which ancient Israel built in response to Moses' ex-perience of the transcendence of God--first the altar of sacrifice, later a mobile tabernacle, and the Sabbath--were images of inner freedom, of the oblation of self to Yahweh, to Being. The early Church absorbed the Jewish sabbath into a festival of the Lord's day, Sunday, a day to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ, the fulfillment of the Incarnation which was implicit in the assent to crea-tion celebrated on the sabbath. The Documents of Vatican II remind us "The Lord's Day is the original feast day, and it should be proposed to the faithful and taught to them so that it may become in fact a day of joy and of freedom from work" (Vol. I p. 29). Liberation and the Liturgical Year In Sunday is the seed of all later festivals. We encounter Sunday first in the gospels, for this is the day of the Resurrection, the day the Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene. Also in Scripture we find the first repeti-tion of Sunday, for it was one week later after his Resurrection that the Lord appeared to Thomas and the company assembled in the upper room and breathed his peace on them. Thus, in the book of Acts, the early Church observes Sunday as a day to celebrate the Resurrection; not a day of rest, not a continuation of the Jewish sabbath, but a new day, an eighth day, of completion, and a first day of rejoicing in creation. To celebrate Sunday witnesses to our busy and harried society of the freedom and goodness of the Christian vision of life. A reform of Sun-day can only come from within the individual life; the era of puritanical prohibitions has done its job of proposing to us what a day of rest would look like, and now it is up to us to practice an asceticism of time so that shopping, banking, errands, and office work can be laid aside for one day. A day to affirm the goodness of creation means a day for play, for friends, for music, for nature. This is a gift from God. Accepting it wit-nesses to the eternal festival latent behind the celebration of this special day. The Christian who observes Sunday as a day of joy and freedom from work learns the interconnectedness of time, for such a Sunday be-gins the night before. As the Jews began to observe a holy day with the vigil of the preceding night, so the Christian liturgical year interweaves all time around this structure of the week, each festival held in place by the surrounding times. Liturgical memory looks backwards and forwards as it draws strength for the present. Sunday looks back to divine assent to creation, and forward to the heavenly rest we anticipate. Celebrating Sunday nourishes our freedom to set aside work and worry and simply be. Liturgical memory forms the whole memory. People who can set aside their personal agenda and enter into the communal celebration, or who make the communal agenda their personal concern, are the ones who then can place their individual psychological problems in a wide con-text. They are not locked into the present, because they are formed to see it held in a web between past and future, nor are they confined to their own personal viewpoint however fully it might be absorbing them. In other words, the liturgy is a school of detachment, a word which in English sounds cold and lonely. I am told the German equivalent, abgeschiedenheit, would be translated as "serene freedom of the spirit filled with utter trust in God." That is the result of a memory formed 849 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 by the liturgy. But it is accomplished not directly and didactically, but symbolically and by example. Thus the liturgy teaches us that every feast must be preceded by a period of preparation: no Sunday without week-days, no Christmas without Advent, no Easter without Lent, and plenty of ordinary time to allow the mysteries of Christ to be absorbed and di-gested. Here is delayed gratification made visible. But this is more than just training in patience for high points. St. Cath-erine of Siena once said "All the way to heaven is heaven." That is what the liturgy says tool Advent and Lent, ordinary time, all the small roots of morning and evening prayer absorb water for the tree's growth which is celebrated at Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. In the liturgical year, the Church has given us not only a survival strat-egy, but a place to grow as well. Aidan Kavanaugh wrote "Liberators accomplish only half their task then they liberate. The other half of their labor is to provide a normal place, a free place, on which the liberated may land." That normal, free place, that place out of the reach of the forces of the enemy, of the trendy, the selfish, the trivial, is the liturgi-cal year. Morning Praise At my window the willow filigrees the gold of dawn and hangs it on my wall; trembling fronds lose themselves in the sudden glow that,starset and sunrise trace upon the morning. I, too, in this hour am lost in grace-gold shower that spills upon the desert of my heart. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19136 The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D. Sister Patricia McCarthy, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame, has worked with the poor in the field of education, particularly with homeless and abused chil-dren, where the ministry of nonviolence is a daily challenge. Her address is Congre-gation of Notre Dame; 41 Cole Street; East Providence, Rhode Island 02914. Among the international travel ads which I faithfully read, I have noticed recently a new type of tour being offered. It is possible to visit northern Europe on a special story-telling trip. Imagine going from thatched roof cottages to desolate moors and dangerous harbors, and all the time lis-tening. The accents would change with the landscapes, and both would change the stories. Just listen and hear the true nature of the countries and its people come out in ways more real than through the products at the duty-free shops in the airports. Then I began to wonder. Will we be able to t~il stories that will en-thrall and inspire? Do we live passionately enough to be sources of hope and interest for future generations? Will others tell and retell with drama and humor the stories of our lives? Thomas Hardy said: "A story must be exceptional enough to justify its telling. We storytellers are all ancient mariners, and none of us is justified in stopping wedding guests unless he has something more unusual to relate than the ordinary experiences of every man and woman." I continue to wonder. What stories in our generation will justify their retelling? Could it be that when the story of peace is told, religious men and women will be talked about? When storytellers explain poverty, celi-bacy, and obedience, will they tell the tales of people so in love with God and with their'brothers and sisters that they wrapped this love in freely 843 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 chosen vows? When the listeners ask what gave these religious such passion and why were they so free to love, will the storyteller have to risk entering into mystery? Will the story become one with the story and mystery of Jesus? There is no reasonable explanation for a God who loved so passion-ately that he came and lived among us. He taught us and healed us and blessed us. Finally, he gave himself on the cross for our redemption. Will the story of religious life make sense only within this context of aban-donment? Is not religious life the lived expression of Jesus' surrender to God for love of us? Gandhi said that Jesus Christ's offering of himself on the cross for the redemption of the world was the only perfect act of nonviolence the world has ever seen. Since the very nature of religious life is to be inti-mately united with Jesus, the vows can be considered in light of his su-preme act of peacemaking. The vows can be seen as living realities that transform people into peacemakers for our fragile world. We search high and low for ways of being peace in the midst of hostility and violence. Perhaps if we go deeply into the vows we will see not only the founda-tion of religious life but the foundation of peacemaking as well. Freedom In Poverty We begin in poverty. Scripture has always put God in the midst of the poor. In the Old Testament, Yahweh compassionately watched over the anawim. To the childless, children were given; to the homeless, a chosen land; to the hungry, manna in the desert; to the lost, visions and dreams to follow. When the fullness of time came, a wretched stable was the birthplace of the Son of God. His first experience of life was as a refugee in a foreign land. And his first teaching began, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." We choose poverty because Jesus did. Poverty and want are evils when people are denied the necessary elements of survival. It makes no sense to embrace a vow of poverty. The vows do not make sense, they make love. We risk letting go of material security as a source of com-fort and happiness so that Christ can be our only fulfillment. What does this have to do with peace? Everything. If Christ is our wealth, we have nothing on this earth to defend, including our own lives. Lack of desire to defend one's possessions or life would make war improbable and unnecessary. Wars are usually started for economic rea-sons. Either an aggressor is greedy for the acquisition of land or eco-nomic control, or an oppressed people revolt against the denial of their The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told / 845 right to a decent standard of life. The slogans of freedom cover the at-tempts ~to maintain or increase power. During Texas' war for indepen-dence, a young soldier wrote home to his family: "If we win, we'll all be rich. If we lose, we will have died for freedom." Greed-induced vio-lence leaves millions of shattered and broken lives in its wake. Bring into this picture an army of people vowing poverty. It would remind one of the pages from a pre-primer book where the child has to pick out what is wrong with the picture. What does not fit in with every-thing else? A vow of poverty is countercultural when greed is the ear-mark of the culture. Why would someone with nothing to defend go to war for the purpose of defense? Of course, war is merely the outward extreme expression of the daily violence abiding in the human heart. It is, therefore, from the heart that the message of peace must come, not from a treaty or constitution. It is also within the heart that the vow of poverty must be embraced and shaped. If we can say that as individuals we own nothing, then whatever we use or manage is done in the spirit of stewardship. And then if some-one asks for our coat, we do not fight; we give the scarf and hat as well. If people are hungry and we have food, we share what we have with them. A vow of poverty should lead us to the reality that all we possess is gift. Because we know personally the Giver of all gifts, our poverty seeks expression through trust in God and willingness to share with the children of God. Fidelity to the vow is not marked by having nothing, but by desiring nothing and by a willingness to share freely whatever we have. Conscious today that too many of our brothers and sisters are starv-ing, we should be willing to live a poverty more radical than anything that has been seen for decades. The world needs our example and our leadership in order to break the cycle of a few using for themselves alone the natural resources intended for all. Strong statements about sharing the fruits of the earth are necessary in a world so consumed by the ac-quisition of wealth. We distort and falsify Christ's plea to us not to worry about what we are to eat or wear when we stockpile the necessities of life. We can do that and have what we think we need day after day, but we miss out on even knowing how beautifully we would have been dressed and cared for, as the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. It is a small step from stockpiling consumer goods to stockpiling arms. Emptying our hands does not automatically produce a disarmed Review for Religious, November-December 1990 heart, but clutching hands certainly will prevent us from having one. We need the practice of trusting God for our daily bread so that when the time comes to trust in God for our very lives, the surrender and faith will be there. Our times are crying for people with disarmed and trusting hearts. Our times are crying for those of us who have vowed poverty to embrace it radically. Our times are crying for us to live out daily the reality that our only need is God. This is what a life of poverty calls us to. This is the truth of a vow of poverty. Gandhi used to live "experi-ments in truth." It was his way of learning. By this he meant an unin-terrupted progression from insight to action to insight, and so forth. He would get an idea, try it out in practice, refine his first idea because of the action, then go to another action, and so on. Poverty is a lifetime ex-periment in truth. We feel inspired to trust God a little and release our hold on something. This leads to more trust and the release of something else, and so on. It's lifetime because we will never run out of things to let go of! The wonder of our God is that we never miss the small insignificant tokens we have parted with. We are showered with the very life of God and have no needs outside of this. We learn to yearn for God alone, not merely the gifts of God. Even when God seems absent from us, we have no desire to seek consolation from any other source. Perhaps, then, we receive our dearest treasure, a poor heart, totally dependent upon God for everything. Only then, when we have nothing left to defend, will we have been formed into peacemakers after the model of Jesus. In our communion with each other and with those who came before us, we see that the peacemakers who stand out in any century were peo-ple of great poverty. Francis, the poor man of Assisi; Mahatma Gandhi, the Hindu ascetic; Thomas Merton, the trappist; Dorothy Day, the bow-ery dweller. They are not remembered because they were deprived, they are remembered because they had so much to give. Passion ,in Celibacy If a generous heart is the sign of vowed poverty, then a passionate heart is the sign of vowed celibacy. The vow of celibacy is at the core of the consecrated life, just as surrender to the passionate love of Christ is at the core of peacemaking. We cannot expect people to give up their arms of defense against other people and to be vulnerable to human ha-tred, unless we have first taught them to let go of their defenses against God and to be vulnerable to infinite love. The vulnerability of passion-ate love embodies an act of complete trust in God, of counting on God The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told to never abandon us or leave us unprotected. Celibacy calls us to this surrender of our very bodies to the love of God. By this vow, we witness in flesh to the power of God to fulfill us and protect us. This same passionate surrender is required of all peace-makers. They need not be celibate, but they do need to enflesh the pri-macy of the power and love of God. It is this primacy of God which is the clear witness of the vow of celibacy. It is the same primacy of the love and power of God to which Christ surrendered. Peace is not within our grasp without the act of redemption of Christ on Calvary. No matter how selfless or sacrificing we might be, the ability to take on and endure violence in order to heal it is the work of God. We share in this work, we are the hands and feet of Christ to-day, but he is the source and fountain of all life, of all power, and of all power to endure violence without retaliation. The clearest and most visible example of this power of God taking flesh is Mary, the virgin Mother of God. Mary trusted so completely in the power of God that she surrendered in faith to bear the Son of God in her womb. Within her body Mary carried Jesus Christ who was con-ceived by the Holy Spirit. "The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Lk i:35). "The fact that she conceived without human means is the sign that she conceived by the power of God. And in this she is a sign to us of our own radical de-pendence on God and on our union with him in grace in order to bear fruit or to do anything that is divinely life-giving on earth "(David Knight, Mary in an Adult Church Memphis: His Way Communications, 1988, pp. 22,23). We see in Mary the cost and the fruit of faith-filled trust in God. We see in Mary a woman confident of God"s continual care and boundless love. We see in Mary a woman whose heart was turned into a furnace of love by the Holy Spirit. We can expect the same care and mercy from God, we can expect to receive the same fire of love from the Holy Spirit. Belief in this fact alone should put us in the front lines of peacemaking. If God is the power of our lives, we do not put our trust in other earthly powers. We have vowed celibacy, consecrated our bodies to virginity. This is a visible em-bodiment of receptivity and of openness to God's working with us and through us. It is a physical expression of total surrender to the loved one; it is the abandonment of all defenses and reserves in the presence of the beloved. It is a matter of the heart. Gandhi taught that nonviolence, also, was a matter of the heart, not 848 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 to be arrived at by an appeal to the brain: that it was a matter of passion not of policy. Celibacy is not an intellectual thing but a passionate physi-cal stance. A life vowed to celibacy, within which we surrender in love the essence of our being, forms a heart capable of understanding and em-bracing nonviolence. A heart can be formed in many ways. Some of the ascetical prac-tices that used to accompany a study of the vows can be seen now as fash-ioning hearts for peacemaking. Fasting--one of the oldest practices in religious tradition---can be undertaken as a concrete expression of the pri-macy of God in our life. It is far more an act of worship than an act of discipline, To live the reality that God is the power of our lives, at times we freely abandon or fast from food or other material things. When the needs of our bodies call out, we turn ourselves over to God in whose pres-ence we abide. It is not the abstaining from food which is holy, but the turning of our attention and desires to God. Prayer becomes the love language of the celibate. When we love someone, there is no end to the variety of ways in which we say it. All the different prayer styles and prayer methods are merely different ways of giving and receiving love. Celibacy is about our bodies, and when we use these bodies to kneel in prayer we give expression to the reality of the vow. Just the act of kneeling is in itself a commitment of our body, a sign of intimate surrender to God. Such signs are important to us and to God. We are human and we yearn to give human expression to our desires; and God is pleased to see us using the gift of our bodies in worship. As important as these signs of surrender are, we go beyond them, we move from sign to reality when we participate in the Eucharistic celebration of Calvary. Union with Christ in the Mass is the commitment of our body to receive his Body. We share in Christ's moment of intimate surrender to his God. We offer ourselves with Christ to be transformed more and more into his Body. In this union we find the fulfillment of our celibacy. Out of this union, we are sent in service to our brothers and sisters. And this can be the passionate physical expression of love that physical penances were to some of the saints. Physical forms of penance are not outdated; they have j.ust changed style to adjust to the times. One (~f the saints stood in ice water up to his neck one winter's night, doing pen-ance for a friend who was considering sinful choices. Standing in the cold at the water's edge for hours in protest at a nuclear submarine base can be our modern day version of the same experience. Patiently endur-ing the irascible tempers and dispositions in a shelter for the homeless The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told or a soupline can be the discipline of the senses in this age. The ideal of self-sacrificing love can be applied to living within the noise and dan-ger of inner cities in order to be with today's anawim. Especially for those overcommitted and overworked religious who give beyond their limits, the ascetism most expressive of a loving re-sponse to God might be to fast from work one day a week. Work is any-thing that we think has to be done. Let it all go for a day. Keep holy the Lord's day. If we believe God is our source of power, let our bodies and minds and energies show it by giving the time to being, not doing. It is possible .this practice could be far more productive than ceaseless days of activity. Surely, a day of rest with God is a practical act of trust, one that might lead us to become even more practical and venture into the constant trust required for a vow of obedience. Stewardship of Self in Obedience Having emptied our hands through poverty and surrendered our hearts in celibacy, we receive from God through obedience the assurance that all is done in accord with the divine plan. Every peacemaker must be obedient, but religious have the value of a vow. This vow does not just mean doing what someone else tells you to do. Doing what some-one else tells you is simple; it may not be easy, but it is simple and un-complicated. That is not what the vow of obedience calls us to. Obedience calls us to listen to God's designs for us, to listen to God's desires for us. Obe-dience calls us to stewardship of the gift of God that is ourselves. If we value the goods and fruits of our fragile earth so much that we h01d them in stewardship, how much more should we value ourselves and hold our-selves in stewardship. We are a gift of God, to be treasured and used ac-cording to the plan of God. Obedience encourages us to take seriously this call to stewardship of self. The first step of the obedient peacemaker is to listen to this call. It will be unique to each person. No one else can listen to it for us. Per-haps the most common sin of disobedience today is not the failure to do what is asked by lawful authority, but the failure to do what, over and above this, is asked by God. Probably few of us consciously, explicitly deny God. But do we consistently hear God's requests and calls? When we are consumed by plans and activities of our own, are we willing to change and to let God move us in another direction? If we have vowed celibacy and said that God is the source of power in our lives, are we able to live that out by listening for .the delicate, unobtrusive voice of God day after day and abandoning all our ideas and hopes to the ideas Review for Religious, November-December 1990 and hopes of God? How do we hear God? We open ourselves to being vulnerable and receptive to all the known and unknown ways God speaks: our own in-stincts and desires, needs of others, realities of life over which we have no control, requests from our communities, and decisions by those who minister through authority. It would be easier if we were the only judge of what is the desire of God. We have been created for community with God's people, and in community we hear and discern the will of God. We pray in our rooms and in our churches and in our workplaces. We seek the face of God, alone and with others. Obedience is not a private vow, it is a communal one. In the base communities of Latin America, private prayer and com-munal reflection on the word of God precede any action for justice. Peo-ple do not act on their own instincts alone; plans for action are submit-ted to the reflection and discussion of the community. There is always a person or group to whom every individual is accountable. This is a cru-cial factor in these communities, a factor which is most difficult for groups in North America who have tried to model the base community style. The same principle of responsible accountability was applied by Gandhi in his struggle for freedom in India and by Martin Luther King, Jr. in his struggle for freedom from racism in America. In their actions for nonviolent resistance, both men taught their people to begin with prayer and fasting. Individuals were prepared step-by-step for the action that had been decided upon. Not everyone was permitted to participate if the leaders thought they were not ready. Obedience to the plan was crucial. Today when civil disobedience is done correctly, all those partici-pating should have another person or group to whom they are responsi-ble. If that person or group tells an individual to discontinue the action, that person is expected to obey. If we are serious about the work of jus-tice then we had better be serious about obedience. Civil disobedience for individuals with vows of obedience is a won-derful opportunity to exercise the vow. Civil disobedience must always be an expression of personal commitment, not just of association with a just cause. For a religious to accept the call to steffardship of self so seriously that there may be a time when the law of God takes precedence over the law of society, a process of discernment should be a prerequi-site to the action. Prayer, study, and discussion should operate on three levels: personal, local, and provincial. Discernment on all three levels The Vowed L

Issue 38.6 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; I Will Be--Who I Am Traveling Light in Community: The Oratory St, Teresa, Contemplation and the Humanity of Christ Volume 38 Number 6 November 1979 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute: St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November, 1979 Volume 38 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Liturgical Spirituality Of Poets, Prophets and the Word Janet Schlichting, O.P. Sister Janet resides at 1314 West Market Street, Akron, OH 44313. The poet Rilke writes, "'For the sake of a few lines, one must see many cities, men and things." He then sets forth a long list of life experiences that will enrich Our treasury of memories, concluding, "Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves--not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them."' Essential to the poet is the perceiving and savoring of life experience. So also is the turning to blood of what is perceived, and the "rare hour" when from that lifeblood springs forth a new word. The life experiences, the turn-ing to blood, the arising and going fortfi--these realities give to poetry its heart. It might also be suggested that these same three realities intertwine to give to prophecy its power and to ChristianitY, its truth. Whether we be poets or prophets or Christians, our call is to communicate. Those moments in which we express our identity are initiated, carried and concluded by the power of word. To all of us are entrusted words. To be human is to have words. Words are the creators and determiners and definers of our life situations. We have words to tell about ourselves, t6 build relationships, to express the meanings ' The Notebooks ofMalte Laurids Brigge (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1949). 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 and memories and hopes of our lives. Words are human but they are not to be taken for granted. Words are sacred because they are the means by which we grow, and by which we, in turn, nurture growth in others. Sharing with one another our feelings and understandings, we tell one another of new possibilities. Words are tools for building the human community, for forging our future. Words are as resilient as the human spirit that calls them to be. Thus, to have words is to have immense power. To have words is to bear a sacred trust. The most life-giving words are, in Karl Rahner's terms, "primordial words.''~ When a word breaks open reality for us, giving us new understand-ing and new vision, it is a primordial word. When it springs from the heart, when it whispers something of everything, and renders the pulse of infinity somehow available to us, its speaker is apoet--a poet made when the word is spoken. When the word comes howling out of the wilderness, cracking the veneer of our lives, illumining in the suddenness of lightning a raw and throb-bing truth, we have heard a prophet--a prophet made when the word is" spoken. Both poetry and prophecy are entrusted to Christians. They are two edges of the same sword, cutting through to reality. The one comes to birth in the blood within, arising and going forth. The other takes by storm, a power from where the person does not know, only that to speak is a necessity and not to speak is a torment: Woe to me if 1 do not preach the Gospel! (1 Co 9:16). Both poetry and prophecy are entrusted to Christians because a Word has been addressed to them: the Word of redeeming love spoken by the Father in Christ Jesus. We gather to hear and to celebrate this word in liturgical prayer. It is made known to us in and for our particular situation and now. The words 1 have spoken to you are spirit and they are life. (Jn 6:63). If you make my word your home., you will learn the truth and the truth shall make you free (Jn 8:32). When we speak of liturgical spirituality, we speak of three things: the grasping of life, the forging of identity and the going forth--the tasks of poets, prophets and every Christian. One task comes with us to worship; one occurs at worship; one follows worship. The primary truth that these activ-ities together express is the intimate welding of liturgy and life. The first concern of a liturgical spirituality is the way in which we take hold of life, the way we are disposed to our world. For, as the parable 2"Priest and Poet," Theologicallnvestigations HI (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1967), p. 294. Liturgical Spirituality: of Poets, Prophets and the Word / 803 reminds us, the Word is like a seed. It must find a home. It must fall on good ground, that "good ground" of our lives which we bring with us to worship. And so we are called to question ourselves. Do we bring eyes to see and ears to hear? Do we bring our nights and days, our hungerings and thirstings, our growings, our rejoicings, our failings? Do we bring our brothers and sisters? Do we bring tax collectors and sinners? Do we bring hearts willing to be converted? Liturgy concerns itself with appropriating all of these: the gleaming and the tarnished; the cabbages and the kings; taking it all in--as the poet must do "for the sake of a few lines"--and affirming it. We do not affirm lightly or passively. A.ffirmation goes far beyond acceptance and is more than approval. To affirm, I must grasp hold of and ponder, and thereby allow my life experiences to turn to "blood within." The ability to affirm depends upon a sacramental understanding of human life. To view life sacramentally is to find holiness present in the everyday world of creation and human relationships, in the joys and sorrows and in the decisions placed before us, to realize our relatedness to one another and to the whole groaning creation. To view life sacramentally is to be able to find the glory of the Lord glim-mering, the Kingdom of God bubbling up in the goodness of a Samaritan to a beaten traveler and in the love of the father for his errant son. It is to have a care for mustard seeds and widows' mites, and to know the importance of yeast. '~ To view life sacramentally is not to deny pain and darkness, nor the con-tradictions we find within ourselves, nor our relentless pattern of fail-ure- nor the subtle weaving of sin into our social structures. These, too, are to be taken hold of in the sure hope that amid the terror of the storm at sea, and under the shadow of the cross, we can yet proclaim the triumph of life-over- death and love-over-hatred in the reign of God begun in Christ Jesus. What is this event called worship? The event called worship is the moment when Christians are made and ¢vhen they are made again into prophets and poets. It is a moment when we gather in response to the Word that calls us together, when we bring the ground we have prepared that the seed of the Word m.ay fall upon it; when, in the simple sharing of common things--the gifts of creation, we praise and we thank and we make memorial of the saving action of the Lord Jesus; when our eyes and ears and minds and hearts are again opened to the memory and presence and hope that undergird our lives. It is a moment--a "most rare hour"--when the Kingdom of God breaks in upon us and comforts and confronts us, consoles us and disturbs us, strengthens us, energizes us, and forges in and among usa new identity. It is a moment when we hear and see and taste what we are, and, when reaffirmed in our identity, given again a memory and a hope, we together become again --and more--the Body of Christ. It is a time, a "most rare hour" when, with the Word in our hearts and in ~104 / Review for Religious, l/olume 38, 1979/6 our mouths, we are sent forth to share what we have seen and heard and tasted. My word is not my own: it is the word of the one who sent me (Jn 14:24). Commissioned again as prophets and poets, Christians are entrusted with the Word. It is the nature of the Word to arise and go forth. There is no being called together without the being sent forth. Liturgy is inseparable from life. For the lot of us, the existential experience of worship is somewhat less than that described here. The way we have taken hold of our lives is not wholly affirming, the view we have of life is not always that it is "gift." The ground we present for the seed of the Word is not always too well prepared. In these and in other small ways the quality of our worship is compromised. Oh, we sing our "alleluias"; we say our "amens"; and yet we know well that it would be'a rare moment indeed for us to come bursting forth from worship proclaiming "The Kingdom of God is breaking in upon us!" And yet, that is precisely our commission: to proclaim to the world, "Behold your God!" It is a hard thing, this call. We find here the truth of our Christianity. It is not about privilege but about service and responsibility. And, faced with the utter ordinariness of people and problems, we drag our feet. On-again, off-again poets, part-time prophets. It is hard, preaching this Word entrusted to us, We have not just met the Risen Lord in the garden, so quite possibly we do not come running with his smile still warm upon us. We do not come pounding down the stairs from some upper room with the roar of wind still in our ears. And yet--our God has touched us. Still, in less dramatic ways we are called and sent, in less dramatic ways we can and do speak words of conversion and reconciliation. When the power behind our words is love, when the center from which our words come is a repentant heart, then our words can be a call to faith for others. So daily we arise and go forth: to love and to serve and to forgive; to wit-ness to the Kingdom; to confront our worl~ with its need of salvation; to reach out around us; to build Christ's Body; to strain forward to the fulfill-ment of God's promises. Liturgical spirituality is about becoming poets and prophets. It is about daily living with openness to the Lord's action in our lives. It is about the "turning to blood within us," the affirming of experiences and the forging of our identity in worship, where we gather to meet the Lord in word and sacra-ment. And it is about our going forth, entrusted with the Word. We are ordinary people with ordinary words. Yet, as erratic and clumsy as our speakings may be, we know this: God himself chose the.way of ordi-nary human flesh to make himself known to us. He is accessible to us in our sharings of faith with one another. This is what we proclaim to you: What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have looked upon and our hands have touched--we speak of the Word of Life. Liturgical Spiritut What we have seen and heard we (1 Jn 1:1,3). And with the apostle Paul (ity: of Poets, Prophets and the Word / 805 ~roclaim to you, so that you may share life with us ve give him glory, ¯ . . whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. (Ep 3:20). whose power at work in us can make us, in a "most rare hour," poets and prophets one for another. Morning Pra$,er 1 turn the corner of driest prayer to find you smiling amo.ng' the shining children in this raggdd, dusty land and crying with the weary women who carry albaby's body to its stones end, Bitter black~ against a sun-spoked sky. Five strong Icane cutters trudge the dirt sweat-stained sombreros, worn mache es. You'll be tl~ere, arms around them all the way ~o the burnt-black fields, while the silent Senora pleads for p~ennies, and you, a moment's caring¯ In the pla~.~, the youth are dancing. You are~young, Lord, you know the tune . Tonight weIhear a tragic story-- Husband g~ne and children hungry. Tears fall o~ the table-top. Jesus Lord! L~ke Bartimaeus, bhnd and begging, When will ~e truly see our land, Hear your ,footsteps, run to meet you, Find our Treasure, You in all,land all? Sister Wendy Cotter Apartado 460, Chiclayo, Peru Novitiate Formation Agostin Lovatin, C.S. In the course of his studies at St. Louis University's Institute of Religious Formation, Father Lovatin prepared a paper of reflection on novice-formation. He is presently Novice Director and a member of the formation team, residing at Sacred Heart Seminary; 3800 West Division Street.; Stone Park. IL 60165. The central message of the Gospel is a call to repentance and belief (Mk 1:15); it was addressed by Jesus to all those the Father was drawing to Christ. In a radical way it was meant for those whom Jesus chose to be his compan-ions, whom he would send to preach (Mk 3:14). The same call echoes still today in the lives of those the Lord chooses for the continuation of his mis-sion. It is a call to conversion. A radical conversion to God in our case is that process of the transforma-tion that our lives undergo in order to become the best instruments to serve our mission. This process comprises all the elements of what we call formation: prayer, vocation, religious life, priesthood, sending, aposto-late . These elements are harmoniously united together and interdepen-dent upon one another. They develop in due time under the direction of God who alone invites and fosters the new life when the person gives him full co-operation. Because the call and the action'are absolutely of God and depend on the cooperation of the person, the rate and the modality of growth are different from person to person because God in his infinite providence and creativity works through.the most unthinkable circumstances, even through the indi-vidual's unfaithfulness. There is no set order of steps through which this pro-cess takes place nor is there any way of telling beforehand which will influ-ence or provoke what. There isn't either any prefixed length of time that can 806 Novitiate Formation / 807 be made normative for the duration of formation. God's choice hnd man's response make up every time an unrepeatable and unique story. Reflection on the experience and charism of the Scalabrinian community, it seemed to me, could be fruitful in helping others to formulate for their own communities novitiate programs which would nurture and promote the nov-ices' identity with their own community charism and apostolate. Our novitiate program serves only a limited scope. It is normative in a very restricted sense: that is in the choice and updating of general principles and methods, according to the experience and the choices of the community. It is descriptive onlyin the sense that a stated program illustrates some of the stages of growth regardless of the real order in which they take place in the in-dividual because this will depend on the creative action of God and the re-sponse of the individual. Conditions for Entering the Novitiate Novitiate (noviceship) in its real meaning is the beginning of a journey, the first "yes" to God in one's heart; the beginning of a process of intimacy with the Lord that will end at the moment of death. Accordingly, there are conditions presupposed for admission to noviceship. Human Psychological Maturity. Grace presupposes nature. Before an in-dividual can tackle the vital questions that will radically affect the rest of his life, he must possess a psychological, intellectual, affective-sexual maturity that gives him a hold on his life and relieves him from the anxieties this de-velopment br.ings about. Only then can he give himself wholly to spiritual de-velopment. On this condition only can he and the community be safely assured so as to make the formal, mutual religious commitments to his following of the evangelical life in their company. In case the actual development of the personality by the time of noviceship leaves unexplored any significant portion of the major areas of development (intellectual, psychological, affective-sexual), the amount of self-knowledge required for a life-decision would be dangerously reduced and the value of the ensuing commitments would be certainly limited. Maturity means also having acqui~red a sense of independence that means a capability to run one's life in an adult manner. Responsible religious life ought not tend to create dependent people, but should take mature people and make them interdependent. Religious experience. The individual's determination of asking to start the period of noviceship should be understood only as a response to the God-who- calls. Consequently the candidate must have come in contact with the living God and felt his drawing. No matter how simple and unsophisticated this experience might have been, the candidate must have felt in some way the vanity of the world, its principles and values, and an initial attraction to a life of union with God. He must have seen himself as a creature and son of the Father who alone can satisfy all the longings of the human heart. There is no I~011 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 hope of success in the work of the novitiate if the candidate does not know experientially who God is, and does not believe that God can be taken as the absolute partner of his life. The encounter with the living God one way or other, must have generated some willingness to serve him. The individual must possess some concrete ideas about priesthood, religious life and what they entail. Along with this, there must be a sufficient knowledge of the special call to each congregation's particular apostolate: for us this would be the care of migrants. Part of the "yes" to God is the still-vague willingness to leave, to give up one's land and culture, the security of an earthly fatherland, so as to follow the call of those who are homeless and lost in a new country and culture. Goals of Novitiate. Learning how to pray, and prayer itself, is going to be the main goal of novitiate because prayer expresses and fosters the union with God which is going to be the primary reality in the future life of anyone called to an inti-mate cooperation with God. It is in prayer that a religious and priest finds his identity. It is in prayer God manifests and renews his call to him; it is in prayer that God reveals his action in the present and reveals concretely the ways and the means of the still-future apostolate. The apostolate is the salvific action of God in the world, an action that he chose to continue through the cooperation of those who respond to his call. The novice will express and deepen his prayerfulness through the various forms that enrich the Christian tradition. Most of all, he will be introduced to mental prayer, making acquaintance with different methods of meditation. He will experience various forms and, under the guidance of the director, he will search for that particular type which better corresponds to his needs and his character. Scripture will be opened to the novice. It will not be a study of the Bible, but the Bible as the source of the living word of God who revealed himself, and continues to reveal himself to anyone who listens with humility to his voice. Scripture will reveal a new dimension to prayer, and tune the novice into that highest form of prayer which is the prayer the Spirit offers unceasingly in the soul of the believer (Rm 8:26), The liturgy takes the novice into the core of the living Church that, united with her head, offers praise, intercession, pleas and thanks to the Father. The novice will thus share in the eternal priesthood of Christ who alone brings about the salvation of mankind. All apostolate, all building of the Church flows from and to the Eucharist; our apostolic action is the continuation, concretization and development of the action of Christ as.it takes place in the liturgy. Spiritual Direction. All spiritual growth is the action of the Spirit who moves and sanctifies. This action of God is always effective by its nature, However God chose not to force the response of man because he wanted a re- Novitiate Formation / 809 sponse of freedom aided by his grace. As a consequence, the action of God becomes efficacious only when received and accepted by an open heart. In formation, the most important person is the one being formed. He alone is solely responsible for his life. However it is a basic experience in the history of Christianity since its very beginning that this cannot be accomplished by the novice alone. Because of our nature, blinded and weighed down by sin, because of the novelty of the process, it is absolutely necessary to have a guide--one who has experienced the action of God and can direct the soul in its journey. When God moves in with his own light, and the soul is laid bare in its past and present poverty and sinfulness, the experience can be quite shattering. Only an experienced guide can lead the soul through this deep darkness, pointing out the enfolding grace that purifies, through desert and pain, the commitment to love God. God speaks to the soul but his ways are mysterious. The role of the director can be compared, at times, with that of the prophets of the O.T., or with that of John the Baptist: to point to the Lord, convey his message. He will never take the place of God, nor can he respond in the name of the direc-tor. He must keep faithful to his mission by staying out of the way in this inti-mate exchange between the Lord and the novice~ The spiritual director, be-cause of his own life of prayer and careful heeding sensitivity to the action of God in his own life, will help the novice to recognize the action of God in his soul, and help him to respond adequately. He will be in a better position to detect the Word of the Lord, as distinct from those other voices that will speak quite strongly; he will be able to show the novice when he is avoiding, or putting obstacles, to the word. He will encourage, console, advise, chal-lenge- according to the circumstances. He will be a witness and a proof of the everlasting love of God towards the novice. The ,novitiate will provide also other moments of intense prayer and re-flection, such as days of recollection, shared prayer, communal prayer, and other forms current today. Silence. To help set the climate for a gradual focus from the exterior to the interior, from self-centeredness to God-centeredness, it is necessary that there be a constant attitude of recollection and silence. The novitiate will not succeed in its goal if it does not provide an atmosphere of solitude and quiet. The novice has to be free from pressure from the outside to be able to come in contact with his self and find there the privileged place of his encounter with God. He must avoid all distractions that keep him from facing his interiority. Even the necessary amount of leisure and work have to be chosen in a measure that help him to re-create his spirit, not upset and disturb it. At this point he will be invited to a revision of values and priorities in his own life. The society and culture we live in are spasmodically craving for ex-terior action, motion, productivity, noise . There is deeply ingrained a dreadful fear of facing oneself and coming in touch with the core of the per-son. Solitude, peace, interiority, inner motivations are not appreciated. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Maybe the reason is to be found in the great deal of pain, loss, and confusion caused by the discovery of the dark side of our being. Fear of pain and run-ning away from our self become an excuse and a protective shield that impede going a further step. Silence and solitude will break the circle that keeps peo-ple stuck in this withering rut. Once that we find the courage to risk the loss of superficial well-being and face ourselves, a healing process can take place, and release the vital forces that we constrict in the recesses. A spiritual life be-comes possible. Then the real self emerges in all its riches and creativity from within. Our basic poverty of spirit and incapability of being and doing will open to an encounter with God. Sl~eeit'ic Formation. God revealing and recognized in prayer will start supplying a deeper awareness of a mission to which he will prepare those whom he calls to his in-timacy and service. He will let the novice know that while he calls him to serve and build the universal Church, he wants him to do so in a very specific manner by being the universal Church to migrants. Consequently God is going to renew the call he gave to our founder presenting once more the field of migration as the portion of the Church to which he will send him to har-vest the flock that needs to be gathered and tended. This. is going to be his mission and his name in the Body of Christ (I Co 12:12-26). At this point the novice is ready and willing to receive more formal input about the specific vo-cation and the specific religious family which he is about to enter. The biography of the founder and his writings will provide a model of the call and how to respond to it. The priestly and episcopal ministry of Bishop John Baptist Scalabrini, a man of great union with God, was consequently a man of great dedication and compassion; his work to establish the congrega-tion', his apostolic ideas, his ecclesial openness, his hatred for compromises, his charity that knew no limits, his love for the Church and loyalty to the pope, were to become the prime inspiration and rule in the lives of his fol-lowers. The unfolding of salvation history is mediated through the free response of individual persons (Adam, Abraham, Moses, Mary.) whom God chose as representatives of the whole people and instruments of his blessings. Even in the present time the Church is thus enriched with new charisms by the same Spirit. John Baptist Scalabrini is one of those "whom the Lord calls to be the unique and fitting instruments of his deep, mysterious and providential plans in the world" (G. Toniolo). During his pastoral visits to his diocese he was met with the tragic reality that follows upon migration. By the thousands, his people, because of extreme poverty and a time of political turmoil, were forced to leave their homes and land if they wanted to survive and have a bet-ter future for themselves and for their families. The pain of separation was not the hardest. From the moment they left their towns and villages, their Novitiate Formation / 811 journey was a nightmare, not only given the conditions of the day and their inexperience, but mostly because they were without protection, becoming the easy victims of agents of immigration, lodging owners and travel companies. The crossing of the ocean itself very often became a bad adventure. The new land, once reached, became very soon much less than the place they were foreseeing in their dreams. They found, all too often: --inhuman working conditions --unscrupulous bosses --abominable living conditions --discrimination, loneliness --abandonment by the government of their own country Even when their financial situation was more adequate, their isolation, caused by their ignorance of the language, lack of education, the difficulty of adjusting to different customs and mentality, all these would produce a profound and shocking disorientation. What primarily touched the sensitivity of Bishop Scalabrini was the al-most absolute absence of the Church at the side of the immigrants. He knew that this was hurting them the most. Some even let him know directly. "Tell our Bishop that we are always mindful of his counsels, tell him to pray for us and to send us a priest, because here we live and die like animals. !" (Scalabrini, L'Emigrazione Italiana in America, Piacenze 1887). "That mes-sage," reflected Scalabrini, "from my faraway children struck me as a re-buke." It found a response in his heart: "Faced with this lamentable situa-tion . . . I confess that I blush with shame, I feel humiliated, as a priest and as an Italian, and I ask myself again: What can be done to help them?" (ibid.) His plan of action, and his dreams, were as wide as his vision of faith. He devised a society, the Saint Raphael Society, composed of lay people who would take care mostly of the social and material welfare of the migrants. They were to assist them at the ports of departure and arrival. His mission-aries would assist the migrants not only religiously but also by founding schools and other centers of education and culture. Once this assistance would be established, he saw a new society being born. Emigration, for him, was not to be the mere flux of indigent working forces to more affluent countries to be absorbed in them, but an exchange of cultures to form a new civilization made rich by the best that the world could offer. He saw the world being united by ties of friendship. He also envisioned a missionary expansion of the Catholic faith, given the reality that most of the well-to-do countries were Protestant. It is a fact that national affinity was one of the driving forces that was moving him to action. However, especially after having visited his first 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 missions in the United States and Brazil, his vision took the dimension of the universal Church. Besides having accepted a Polish priest to be sent to assist the Polish community in Boston, he began negotiations with the Holy See to start a new Roman Congregation (Congregatio Pro Emigratis Catholicis) and he wrote the draft of the document that would establish it. In the history of our congregation, the novice sees how the action and providence of God has worked in the concrete through the cooperation--and even the weakness--of its members. Both the glorious pages and the dark ones will equally show that our work is the work of God, that he and he alone is the bestower of the good gifts. He had led us through a period of purification and confusion to a clarification of his will in our regard. The present history of our religious family studied under the light of faith should reveal the same traits in its constant effort for continuation, renewal and purification. The place where we find the plan of God for us today is our Constitu-tions. The novice will study and interiorize them with veneration and humil-ity. They contain the spirit of the founder made concrete, and translated into the language of our time to fit our present situation. The constitutions be-come the ~erm of comparison, renewal and challenge for each member of the congregation. From what has been said above, it follows that right at the core and source of our vocation and consecration there exists a tension between two poles. God calls each one to himself, with the absolute exclusivity of any oth-er creature. However he calls to service and witness. The call itself is basically bifocused. Because love of God is genuine only when it becomes love of neighbor, and love of neighbor is charity only if it is love of God, we will have to be balanced between contemplation, and the apostolate, solitude, and being with people, God-centeredness, and people-centeredness, being in the world, yet not of the world. Any attempt to simplify and resolve these tensions destroys the uniqueness of the divine call and makes the person a pure social activist, or a sterile misanthrope. Since the beginning of the process of formation, the novices have to be made aware of, and begin to realize in their lives a balance between the two poles of tension. One feeds the other, influences the other, and makes the other effective. Any apt way to practice this difficult exercise is to expose the novice to the genuine apostolate of the congregation. The purpose is not to learn the ropes or to acquire professional skills but precisely to test oneself on how to do God's work. The exercise of the apostolate does not depend on personal resources but on the grace of God and discovering how to pray, not as a solitary exercise, but in order to continue and carry out the work of crea-tion and redemption. Evangelical Life. Our founder, at the time of establishing the character and distinctive traits of our community, wanted us to become a full-fledged religious congregation. However it does not seem that he handed down to us Novitiate Formation / 813 religious life as some standardized form. Rather, looking at the apostolate, he understood that to perform it there was only one way possible: the Gospel. We understand it more clearly today when we identify religious life as a call to discipleship. Bishop Scalabrini, for his part, never found a better qualifi-cation for his missionaries than to call them "apostles" in his letters and in his conferences. He understood chastity as a condition that made the priest totally available in his ministry to his people, because he has dedicated himself to God with an undivided heart. So great was his conviction on this point that he hardly mentioned chastity in his writings to the missionaries. It was an in-dispensable, undiscussed principle. Most of all, the genuine charism of chastity was eminently present in his own heart. His soul bears the fruits of his life-bearing love. As a young priest he wanted to become a missionary to India. He was sensitive and available to the needs of every sort of people: deaf-mutes, rice pickers, those stricken by famine and cholera. Most of all his fre~edom and wholeness were witnessed by his episcopal ministry: the Chris-tian love he showed his people up to the summons to provide for migrants. Being himself poor and detached from possessions to the point of sacrific-ing readily what could be considered necessary to his position, and even what was most significant and dear to him, he saw poverty as a basic condition for the efficacy of a ministry among migrants. Unless the missionary were de-tached from riches, he could hardly dedicate himself to his ministry, and he could hardly preach among the poor about the poor Christ. One of the main traits of Scalabrini's life was his obedience and loyalty to the pope and to the Church. The practice of this virtue caused him the most bitter sufferings during his life. However he professed that, without intimate union with the Church, there was no way to carry oiat the will of God that is the plan of salvation. To this purpose his writings to his missionary excur-sions contain numerous exhortations to obedience, obedience to Bishops as heads of the local Church. Evangelical virtues. From his biography we learn that, besides these three virtues and vows, his union with God made the bishop rich in evangelical qualities that made of him a true follower of Christ: humility, prudence, meekness, availability, compassion, tender love, loyal friendship, firmness, courage, sacrifice, patience, zeal for the house and honor of God, self-sur-render, love for beauty, peace. Most of all he was ready to lay down. his life for his people. In fact it is known that it was because of his strenuous work in his diocese and through the visits he paid to his missionaries and migrants to America that his life was considerably shortened. Community living. In the writings of our founder to his missionaries he stressed the point of community life as a necessity. He saw it flowing from the call to unity with Christ and the Church that makes every apostolate pos-sible. He saw in it the means to provide the mutual encouragement and sup-port that the hardships and the dedication to. the apostolate would require. I~14 / Review for Religious, l/olume 38, 1979/6 Our evangelical life. When the Lord calls a person to perform a mission, he measures his gifts and charisms to the same mission. Those who are called to continue in Christ the work of salvation are called to a life of identification with Christ, to reproduce his life and ministry as we find it in the Gospel. We saw this happening in the call of our founder who was reading the quality of life-style for himself and his missionaries into the plan of salvation for that particular portion of the Church in which he was called to be active. Our way of reproducing the evangelical life is determined by our mission and dedica-tion to migrants. As we have a special charism of service, so we have a special charism of witness to the life of Christ. Chastity. Our dedication to God with undivided heart in chastity opens our lives to love and to service making it possible for us to leave our family, friends and even our land in order to be completely available at all times. In this condition, we are free to love and to give ourselves to those whom we are called to serve. Our dedication to them. in the Lord will be radical enough for us to dare to spend all our life and energy in serving them. Our love is a free gift, selfless and self-sacrificing. We discover the beauty that is in every per-son. Our Christ-like love will blossom in friendship which is one of the best gifts God grants to a person. Our friendship will not be the satisfying of a craving, the filling of a gap inside our heart, but an overflow of grace from the abundance:of God's love for us. However the novice will learn, even from experience, that his call invites him to purify his heart, at all times, of every human attachment, and to put his trust in the Lord alone: "Cursed the man who trusts in human beings, who seeks his strength in the flesh, whose heart turns away from the Lord" (Jr 17:5). Poverty. The poverty that we profess is a sign and a means to achieve that poverty of spirit that is our human powerlessness and weakness of creatures before the Lord. It makes humility and truth the necessary starting point to recognize the absolute power of God in our life, and to make us docile instru-ments in his hands. When we are poor in spirit we recognize that everything that we are and have is a gift of God, not to be grasped at, but to'build the Church with. The idea that God is the "owner" of everything will also teach us to share among all the children of God. By contrast, we understand that human sinfulness tends strongly to appropriate jealously the gifts of God and use them as a weapon of division and exclusion. Even higher gifts like educa-tion and culture become instruments of oppression and division. The introduction of the novice to poverty will start from the appreciation of material thihgs, their purposes and value, in order to lead him to see all things as gifts, discovering their native tendency to lead back to their creator and giver. Learning the difference between grateful use and possession, he will relish everything with gratefulness. This exercise will soon reveal to him how easy it is to become attached and to accumulate; this difficulty will open him to the idea of necessary renunciation, purification, self-examination. .Novitiate Formation / 815 Poverty is not to become a game or a reason for a more subtle buildup of pride and superiority, but a means of liberation and fraternity. A real appre-ciation of poverty will be shown in the simplicity of life-style. Our call to serve the migrants, to welcome the stranger, requires a deep faith in the na-tive dignity of man even when he is deprived of goods and education. The novice will be ready to dispossess himself of all the prejudices and false priv-ileges that accompany his own culture. To become migrant with the migrants means to participate in their struggles, appreciate the true values of their cul-ture from the depth of one's heart and share their homelessness and rejec-tion. Obedience. In his prayer, the novice will be drawn to know and to value the will of God as the only lead in his life, the will of God that is to bring ev-eryone to salvation in Christ. The life of union that he is called to realize will enkindle in him the strong desire to conform himself deeply to this will of God. Our community and the Church are both committed to this will of sal-vation that constitute them. He will learn that God speaks and reveals himself to everyone if each would put himself in a humble, listening attitude before him. However God never prescinds from the mystery of his will to bring everything under Christ's headship (Ep l:9-10) so that his plans for an individual is always in harmony with the building of the body. The novice will gradually learn that God speaks also through the Church and the com-munity. As a consequence he will make every effort to keep alive and oper-ative the bond that ties him to the Church and to the community in order to become a living branch (Jn 15). Union with God and the Church should blossom in unity among the members of our community. Not any type of community corresponds to our needs. Our community is found in the Word, and gathered by the Word. Its members feed on prayer that they share, renewing themselves constantly in it. Our community is the center of irradiation for our mission. The quality of life that enlivens our communities is the fraternity in Christ that will show the migrants that Christ was born and is risen through being mindful of one an-other, carrying each other's burdens, encouraging, challenging and correct-ing one another; through exercising our welcome among ourselves we will be able to welcome the stranger. By the lives of our members, our communities should give the same corporate witness that our individual lives are called to give. Besides these three headings, our religious life, as a call to discipleship, covers all the virtues that characterize the life and the teachings of Christ. The Scalabrinian in particular cultivates humility, the fruit of his poverty; availability, his openness to people and cultures that are different; patience with those who are ignorant, understanding and appreciation of diff6rent ways, customs and practices; gentleness, a welcoming spirit, simplicity of life, love and respect for those who are poor and simple, the spirit of sacri-fice, and a readiness to move on when our charism calls for it. Religion Can Be a Bad Trip The Psychology of Evangelization Gillian Straker Dr. Straker's last article, "Psychotheraphy: Its Potential and Limit," appeared in the March, 1979, issue. She is a senior lecturer in the School of Psychology, University of the Witwater-srand; 1 Jan Smuts Ave.; Johannesburg; 2000 Republic of South Africa. n the February 1979 issue of HIS' the~'e appeared an article entitled "Reli-gion Can Be A Bad Trip." The article dealt with the high rate of student dropout from evangelization campaigns. It went far beyond statistics to quote what students had actually felt about their experiences. One of the rea-sons students gave most frequently to explain their negative feelings toward religion was that they had become disillusioned with the very people who had first introduced them to it. The article went on to encourage these "religious casualties" to give it another try. In offering this encouragement the follow-ing suggestions were made: Evaluate: has the Bible itself molded your experience or have you been the product of family, school or other people? Make your own decisions. Grow up. They (whoever they be, false Christians or true--a human authority) have been telling you what to do. Now start deciding for yourself. Don't let your encounter with a weak or sickly Christian (or group) cheat you of finding the Truth that can set you free:. 'An inter-varsity Christian Fellowship magazine. -'Stephen Board, "Religion Can Be a Bad Trip," HIS, Feb., 1979, Vol. 30, No. 5, p. 5. 816 Religion Can Be a Bad Trip: The Psychology of Evangelization / ~117' At one level these admonitions seemed to make sense. In essence they di-rect the individual back to examining his relationship with God which is the obvious source of true spirituality. Further, they point out that if one turns away from God one cannot blame others; one has to assume responsibility for one's own actions. At another level it struck me as sad that these admonitions were necessary at all. The advice given that disillusionment with the representatives of reli-gion should not be generalized to include God, or all his representatives for that matter, is sound. However, the painful question that is left unanswered is why the level of disillusionment among erstwhile converts is so high. To search for an answer to this question would seem to be imperative. As Christians, we acknowledge that successful evangelization has its source in God, but we also a_ccept that conversion can be and often is medi-ated through human means. In this regard if the reports of the "religious casualties" are to be taken seriously, it would seem that we who are supposed to be mediators are failing, at least partially, in our roles. Furthermore, the indications are that we are failing, not because we make no impact, but be-cause having made an impact, we do not follow it up in a meaningful way. It is important to question the reasons for this. Naturally there are practical considerations to be taken into account. It would be very time-consuming to follow up every individual who merely indi-cated that he had been reached in some way. This perhaps could be used validly to excuse some degree of the neglect of which we stand accused. How-ever, perhaps the major factor involved in our failure to follow up individ-uals whom we have invited to respond to God rests rather on an oversight on our part regarding the process that is involved in conversion. An invitation to conversion is, of course, an invitation to something that has ultimate value and lasting meaning. It is on this that we usually focus, and, in so doing, we may often see little need to give ongoing support to a person to whom we have offered such a splendid gift. However, by focusing on this end point we may well have lost sight of the whole process that is involved in conversion. Conversion is a process not an event, and therefore evangelization itself should also be conceptualized in terms of process and not event. Doubtless most people involved in evangelization do know this. However, it is easy, in one's enthusiasm to impart the good news or to get others to see one's point of view, to lose sight of the fact. There might well be point, then, to restate some of the known facti~al and experiential aspects of the process of conversion. Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J., writing'about what must be the most famous of all conversion experiences, that of St. Paul, draws attention to several issues prominent in the process of conversion.3 One such important issue is that 'Osiek, C., "The First Week of the Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of St. Paul," RfR, Sept., 1977, Vol. 36, No. 5. 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Paul's transformation did not happen overnight. She points out that Paul himself spoke of a lapse of three years before he began to preach Christ (Ga 1 : 18). Thus Osiek emphasizes one essential element of the conversion experi-ence: it takes a long time. This is a vital fact to remember. Clearly, then, evangelization is not successfully completed when the indi-vidual first repents, requests baptism or initiation into the Church, or indi-cates by some other means that his heart has been touched. Rather this should be regarded as only the starting point. Thus, if evangelization is to be meaningfully completed or brought to full fruition in regard to. this indi-vidual, the need for ongoing support is clear. This is especially true if the evangelization process has netted people who are particularly vulnerable. Eric Hoffer, in his book, The True Believer,4 points out that people who have weak egos or are under stress to begin with are often those most likely to respond to high-pressure political or religious movements. These people, in their search for answers, are usually extremely willing to believe authorized "representa.tives" of the faith. They are keen to join any group which holds out hope of providing answei's to the pressing problems of their lives. This fact, viz., that they have embarked on a religious excursion more out of a need for answers or for a group affiliation than out of a true understanding or personal calling, does not make the evangelizer less responsible for them.Rather, it makes his responsibility even greater, since their very vulnerability and need make him even more responsible by virtue of his original choice to hold out to them the hope of a solution to their problems. The evangelist cannot withdraw simply because his converts did not turn out to be the kind of persons he hoped them to be. Withdrawal would indicate a greater concern with getting the convert to conform to the evangelist's expectations rather than with helping him, within his own limits, to respond freely to God. The difficulties in helping another respond to God without having one's own ego invested in the process are manifold. A close look at church history amply illustrates the extent to which power motives can underpin the determination to evangelize others. Of course, not all individuals who respond to evangelization campaigns do so out of some affiliation need or some need for instant answers. There are individuals for whom evangelization merely clears the path, so that God's call can be more deeply and clearly felt. In instances such as these, where the individual is primarily responding to a personal call from God, it is much more likely that he will survive with or without human support. In fact, he may ultimately be stronger for not having received such support. This, how-ever, should never be used as an excuse for not offering it. The emotional and psychological cost involved in sustaining a conversion experience is not to be underestimated. Osiek, in her articleon Paul makes this explicit. She. points out that Luke's image of blindness approximates in ~Ciled in HIS, op. oil. Religion Can Be a Bad Trip: The Psychology of Evangelization / 1~19 physical terms what must have been Paul's psychic state for some time. She discusses the fact that he must have experienced "confusion, loss, fear, inner chaos, spiritual paralysis, the terrifying feeling that his whole world was com-ing apart. "~. When one considers this description and realizes that it is part and parcel of the process which one is inviting another to undergo, the enormous re-sponsibility involved in extending such an invitation becomes self-evident. That conversion involves psychic trauma is further indicated by the psy-chologist, William James, in his book The Varieties of Religious Experience.6 James, in discussing the psychological component in conversion, acknowl-edges that positive emotions, like love and security, may be involved. But he also points out that the explosive nature of these emotions, experienced as in-tensely as they are in conversion, seldom leave psychic structures as they had been. A fundamental reorientation of psychic structures is a common occur-rence attendant on conversion. That the reorientation of psychic structures can be an excruciatingly painful experience has long been recognized by psychotherapists, who, like evangelists, also work for personal change, albeit of a different nature. In recogniton of the pain involved in change, psychoanalytically oriented psychotherapists prepare to commit themselves to patients they take into therapy for an average length of three-to-five years. During this time the patient is very often seen, at the very least, once a week. This is not meant tO imply that evangelists should be prepared to do the same thing. It is fully recognized that while therapy has only human resources to rely on, conversion relies on God and has its ultimate source in him. How-ever, the point being made is that on a psychological level, therapists recog-nize that the shedding of one's old self is always a painful process, even when one is moving toward a higher level of integration and functioning. If this is the case when one in therapy is changing in a fairly limited way, how much more so should it be true in the case of a person undergoing a radical trans-formation, such as is demanded by conversion. St. John of the Cross was well aware of what was involved, and of the delicacy with which such situations need to be handled. Although the follow-ing was written in the context of spiritual direction and the progressive conversion involved in contemplative prayer, it has great relevance to the present discussion. St. Johrl of the Cross wrote as follows:7 The affairs of God must be handled with great tact and open eyes, especially in so vital and sublime a matter as is that of these souls, where there is at stake almost an infinite ~Osiek, C., op. cir., p. 63. ~James, W., The Varieties of Religious Experience (Fontana Library: Glasgow., 1960L 'St. John of the Cross, Living ~-'lanle of Love in Kavanaugh, K., Rodriguez, D. (trs.). The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross ( W~ishingt on, 1973). 820 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 gain in being right and almost an infinite loss in being wrong. This statement eloquently summarizes the whole point of this article. If the affairs of God were handled with the great tact and open eyes suggested by John, there would certainly be fewer religious casualties and less need for articles such as that in HIS. As it is impossible to add to St. John's statement in this matter, perhaps this article should conclude on that note. However, having stressed human responsibility to the full, lest we should err at the other extreme and see the conversion of another as being wholly within our own power, perhaps it would be better to conclude by reacknowledging that, in all things, "the overflowing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development b\' Philip D. Cristantiello Price: S.60 per copy. plus postage. Address' Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Religious Formation and Social Justice Stephen Tutas, S.M. Very Rev. Father Tutas is Superior General of the Society of Mary (Marianists), an office which he has held since 1971. Since 1975, he has also been President of the USG Commission Justice and Peace. He resides at the Curia Generalizia Marianisti; Via Latina 22; 00179 Rome, Italy. We have all witnessed the steady development of the movement to pro-mote justice and peace. For myself, shortly after I came to Rome in 1971, one of the first meetings I attended was organized by the Pontifical Commis-sion Justice and Peace at which the Presidents of the Unions of Superiors General, Father Pedro Arrupe and Sister Mary Linscott, asked the Superiors General to urge their religious to follow up the 1971 Synod document on Justice in the World by active participation in the various justice and peace groups that were being organized on national and diocesan levels. We know that since then religious men and women have distinguished themselves not only by their invaluable collaboration with the local Church but also by their own initiatives and expressions of religious leadership in this field. We know, too, that not all these initiatives were always looked on favorably by others, both within the communities and beyond. But we als6 know that there was a gradual purification of motives and clarification of strategies leading to an ever increasing official endorsement of these movements both by the religious communities in their general chapters and also by the local ordinaries and national conferences of bishops. Today we find ourselves in the mainstream of one of the most important movements in the history of the Church. The promotion of justice is now seen to be an integral part of evangelization and has even been called by some a constitutive element of contemporary religious life, If ever it were, the pro-motion of justice is simply no longer an option for religious--as though it 821 822 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 were merely an added feature to the preaching of the gospel. We now see that the promotion of justice is part of the Good News we are called to announce to the world today. We are living in an important period in the history of the Church, one in which the commitment of religious takes on special significance in an-nouncing the gospel to the world in a way that touches the lives of all men and women. The message that we bring to the world is not new, but we are finding a new way to respond to the needs of the world. The whole movement of justice and peace is simply the consequence of the truth that the Church is in the world, and is concerned about the total life of all men and women. In this article I want to comment on some trends that refer especially to this comparatively new dimension of religious formation, the preparation of religious for a greater commitment to social justice: I. Formation is a lifelong process. 2. Prayerful reflection on the gospel inspires social action. 3. Formation at all levels implies serious and systematic study. 4. Reflection on one's personal experience of justice and injustice neces-sarily complements the study of the social doctrine of the Church. 5. The integration of prayer, study and discernment leads to action. 6. Formation prepares for collaboration with others. Formation is a Lifelong Process There was a time when we identified the term "formation" with "initi-ation." Today we understand that the quality that needs to be developed in our life is the capacity for continued growth. Everyone has a built-in tendency to stop growing. Part of our work with others is to assure the conditions for continued growth and to stimulate the desire for this. The goal of a good formation program is not a finalized position but openness to change. The application of this trend to the issue of social justice is evident. We are all learning. Here, more than anywhere else, initial formation is a preparation for ongoing formation. The most important skill to be acquired is learning how to continue learning and to develop that wonderful capacity for continued growth in our lives. Prayerful Reflection on the Gospel Inspires Social Action The most controversial element in the promotion of justice is the discern-ment of motive. Many men and women, including religious, are committed to justice primarily as a humanitarian reaction to injustice. This is certainly a good motive, but Christians should find their fundamental motive in the gospel itself. It is this quality of our motivation, this faith dimension, that must distinquish our commitment to justice. We must never lose sight of the fac~ that the promotion of the integral development of man is related to Religious Formation and Social Justice / 823 evangelization. The ultimate goal of all our activity in building one world must be the explicit proclamation of Jesus Christ. What this means is that we must become more and more men and women of prayer. It is in our personal union with God that we sense the call to go to others with the message of Good News and with a helping hand. Nor must we take refuge in a kind of prayer that is divorced from action simply because the challenge is overwhelming. An important biblical orientation is given to us in the narrative of the multiplication of loaves. The disciples felt that their resources were ridiculously limited in the face of the great need of the people, but Jesus simply asked them to begin and to do what they could. The miracle of multiplication followed upon this act of courageous good will and unquestioning faith. In our programs of formation we must continually refer to faith as the motive for justice and show how this faith is translated into action. Formation at All Levels Implies Serious and Systematic Study Although study is not a new trend in formation, it takes on special mean-ing today when programs of formation are necessarily individualized and geared to the development of personal responsibility. With regard to prepari,ng our religious for a greater commitment to justice, we find that the gospel motive for this is developed further in the documents of the Church. The Catholic social teaching of our time is remarkable. There is "nothing comparable to this in the world today. It is a special gift the Church can offer to all men and women of good will. But we have to study this doctrine. And the habit of serious and systematic study must be inculcated from the very beginning. I do not want to suggest an impossible !ist of documents but I do find the following to be absolutely necessary elements in a basic ,program of formation: 1. Gaudium et Spes 2. Populorum Progressio 3. Evangelii Nuntiandi 4. Redemptor Hominis To these must be added the 1971 Synod document Justice in the World simply because of its timeliness.' To the study of these documents of the Universal Church must be added 'If a textbook presentation is desired, there is in English Monsignor Joseph Gremillion's master-ful study, The Gospel of Peace and Justice, which presents Catholic social teaching since Pope John. Incidentally, Msgr. Gremillion deserves the gratitude of all religious for recognizing the strategic importance of religious communities in the movement to promote justice and peace throughout the world. During his period of service as Secretary of the Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, Msgr. Gremillion made, through the Unions of Superiors General, special efforts to sensitize religious to the importance of this movement. 824 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 the study of the documents of the local Church-- statements by national con-ferences of bishops or by local ordinaries, as well as statements by national conferences of religious men and women. ~ Another source of guidance and inspiration is to be found in the state-ments of the various general chapters. Since i971 the theme of justice and peace has been one of the principal issues acted upon by most general chapters of active religious societies. What is particularly helpful in these statements is the relation of the founding charism to the promotion of justice. In addition to these statements by the Church and by religious in the Church there exists a huge documentation coming from various centers for justice and peace. Articles about social justice are published continually. It is important to develop a certain familiarity with all this and to develop habits of study that will carry over into a life of the most intense activity. There can be no real commitment to social justice without serious and systematic study. Reflection on One's Personal Experience Complements the Study of the Social Doctrine of the Church The conciliar and papal documents of our time concerning social justice are inspiring calls to action--if they are studied in conjunction with each one's personal experience of the reality of which they speak. The most urgent call to a~:tion comes when we reflect on our personal experience of justice and injustice. Contact with the underprivileged necessarily prods us to do something for the betterment of others. Study of the documents themselves, no matter how inspiring we find the message, is not enough. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to develop a genuine social awareness without actual contact with the underprivileged. A feature of some programs of formation is the experience of another cul-ture. Generally this means the experience of the needs of the Church in other parts of the world, as when religious from Europe and North America come into personal contact with the reality of the Church in Latin America and Africa. The experience of the underprivileged prompts us to ask in what way we are responsible for their condition and what we can do about improving the situation. However, this experience of the life of the underprivileged must always include an openness to recognize special values in them that one lacks in his or her own culture. We must learn from each other. If there is an economic gap between the rich and poor nations, there are also values in the peoples of the so-called Third World to which peoples of the First World would do well to aspire. Such reflection on personal experience is related to the discernment of the signs of the times. This is another way of saying that the faith dimension must take precedence over purely humanitarian and sectarian considerations. What is God saying to us through the events of history? This is one of the Religious Formation and Social Justice / 1125 exciting questions that individual religious and religious communities need to ask themselves. One of the most practical elements in programs of social action is this personal and especially communitarian discernment. Personal discernment is related to study and personal reflection and consultation with others. Communitarian discernment goes on from there. It is an act of faith in the active presence of the Spirit among us and a genuine openness to what the Spirit says to us through the community. "Community discernment" is not limited to reflection among ourselves in community, but also includes consultation with the larger community. On the one hand this refers to the province and, ultimately, to the whole Society; on the other hand, it also refers to the local Church and, ultimately, to the universal Church. Action for justice undertaken as a consequence of such discernment .is well-founded. It is to this kind of social action that our formation programs must be directed. The Integration of Prayer, Study and Discernment Leads to Action We now come to the most difficult point in formation, especially in programs of initial formation: how to translate ideas into action. Yet one of the most heartening features of formation today is precisely that it is action-oriented. We are living at a very privileged time in the history of the Church. We have the documents of the Second Vatican Council, and a rich collection of statements flowing from the Council. We do not lack clear and challenging orientations. And our emphasis on prayer, reflection and personal experience gives us an understanding both of the world around us and also of our mission as religious, so that we hear clearly the call to action. I believe the key element needed to respond well to this call to translate ideas into action is the gift of sharing in the zeal of our founders. I say this because I was struck very much by a remark recently made in one of the meetings of the superiors general in Rome, that our founders were far more prophetic than their successors. Our founders were men and women of vision, gifted to discern the signs of the times in their day and to respond to the needs of the Church in very specific and important ways. It seems to me that today we are giving a renewed value to the specific charisms of religious communities. This involves not only looking back to our roots but also includes the exciting process of discerning what the application of our charism means in our day. Moreover, in international religious communities, the charism of the foundation is continually being enriched as it is made incarnate in different cultures, ' thus enabling us to share new dimensions of our charism throughout the community. Having said this, however, the question remains: "How do we translate ideas into action? It is comparatively easy to instruct others in what must be done but far more difficult to suggest ways and means of how to do it. Of course opportunities for direct action are necessarily limited during the periods of formation, whether this be seen as initial or ongoing, The chal- 896 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 lenge is all the greater with regard to the issue of social justice. There is probably no dimension of formation that must be as action-oriented, in order to be effective, as formation for social justice. Therefore, difficult as it is, we must attempt to suggest how to promote the integral development of a man rather than content ourselves with simply calling for some kind of commitment to human development and letting it go at that. The knowledge of theory must be applied to reality. And for this, there must be a real commitment of time, creativity and energy. There is still another qualification that must be noted. In our commitment to social justice we must always be conscious of our identity as religious. We must find our way, as religious, of committing ourselves to the promotion of justice. At one time in the history of the movement of justice and peace it was believed that the key agents in this movement were the laity. In one sense, the key agents are the laity, but certainly not to the exclusion of priests and religious men and women. In fact, there is a specific role of religious leadership and witness that can be provided only by priests and religious. It is on this specific role that we must concentrate our formation of religious for social justice~ Another mark I want to make about action for justice is the importance of taking a positive approach rather than a negative one. Most calls for social action seem to be phrased in terms of protests. Such reactions to injustice are undoubtedly necessary, but it is far more important to take the initiative, to act for social justice rather than simply react against cases of injustice. This promotion of justice is necessarily determined by the distinctive situation of each culture. But some general examples of social action are the following~. --The use of the material resources of the community for the integral development of men and women. --The updating of guidelines for general and province investments, and decisions taken in consequence of these guidelines. --The use of investments to influence action for the integral development of all men. A religious society, especially in collaboration with others, can, for example, influence justice through the use of rights at-tached to shares in company stocks. --Giving witness of a simplicity of life-style. --Service of the underprivileged in general, and in the Third World in particular, keeping in mind the importance of helping people to help themselves rather than by means of any form of a patronizing "doing for others." --Programs of action-oriented education for justice in our schools and universities. In this regard, it is important to find ways and means of influencing the civic and business worlds to a greater commitment to social justice. Religious Formation and Social Justice / 827 --Participation in programs to help form the social conscience of the laity. At the same time, as we work at those programs which reach beyond the community, we must recognize that, to be authentic and effective, we must also work to promote justice within our own religious communities. As long as someone believes he or she has been treated unjustly there cannot be peace. It is our mission to promote that internal freedom of the human person which permits true openness to God's action in his or her life. To the extent that our religious are really free and open to the action 9f the Spirit, to that extent can they be effective instruments in God's hands for the good of his people. In working to correct unjust structures or practices in our own communities we must be careful not to become aggressive or belligerent ourselves. Many of these injustices come about simply because there is a lack of awareness. Formation Prepares for Collaboration With Others Although formation is necessarily personalized, calling for the develop-ment of a great sense of personal responsibility, formation today is oriented to the building of community among ourselves and with others in pursuit of a common mission, Our own religious communities must be seen as centers of ongoing formation, and care must be taken to try to make our communities favorable to this continued growth in the life of every religious, Efforts must be made, too, to have the local community have a sharper sense of the larger community to which it belongs, whether of the same religious family extended throughout the world or of the local Church in which the community is inserted. The development of a transnational mentality, and at the same time a more effective insertion in the local Church, are important thrusts in religious life today. And one of the features of "insertion in the local Church" is collaboration with other religious societies in the same area. From the moment of each one's entry into religious life, we must em-phasize the importance of collaboration with others: with the local Church; with other religious societies in the local Church; with other communities of our own society locally, in the Province, and throughout the society; with national and local conferences of religious; with national and diocesan commissions of justice and peace; with other men and women of goodwill. As religious communities, in all that we do, but especially in the promotion of justice and peace, we must strive to work with others rather than establish parallel structures. Conclusion Today's call for social action has profound implications for the Church and for religious life within the Church. The insertion of the Church in the world to meet the real needs of men and women today--their integral development and the integral development of the entire human race--is 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 part of the Good News we are commissioned to announce. Within our own religious communities, this commitment to social action brings with it one of the most important elements for the radical renewal of religious life. Our commitment to social justice will necessarily stimulate us to greater holiness of life, both individually and as communities. In this question of social justice we must be very patient with one another. There are some religious who are uneasy with the call to social action. Their entire formation and personal experience of the apostolate directed them to a different kind of commitment. The changing of attitudes called for by the Second Vatican Council is not accomplished easily and quickly. While working for the ongoing formation of all our religious we must accept the fact that some will not be able to commit themselves to the promotion of justice in the way that the documents of the Church call for. We must not be aggressive with such religious on this point. But we must he firm in not permitting them to impede the commitment of others who are responding in goodwill to the call of the Church, as is often made specific in general chapter orientations. Not everybody in religious life believes that social action is compatible with religious life; but it is certainly important that everyone in formation believe that this is the case and act accordingly. It is simply a question of recognizing that the commitment to justice is an integral part of religious life today. Annunciation Stirring summer air salutes her cheek, Then tomorrows whirl inside her, Kaleidoscope of thunderstorm and sunrise. She cups a question--"How?"--around the message To know its shape, And strikes white-hot divinity. "Let it be done!" Storm and sun explode In searing glory That contracts into a spark Within her womb. Sister Mary Cabrini Durkin, O.S.U. 1339 East McMillan Street Cincinnati, OH 45206 I Will Be.Who I Am Reflections Culled By M. Geraldine, O.P. Sister Geraldine is a member of the community of Oakford Priory; P.O. Box, Verulan; North Coast; Natal; South Africa. The reflections which follow are writings sent in letters sent at various times by a young doctor working in a very large and busy African hospital. I asked her. permission to publish these, simply because they come from someone--not a religious--who is living in the world, being involved in life, with all its primitive and brutal aspects, and yet remaining gentle, with her inner eye fixed on God--a contemplative in the world. Most of these passages were written over the past two years, during which time she was overworked to a degree beyond comprehension. Her one request in giving her permission was that only her first name be used: "Bobby." I added headings because, in their original form, the pieces did not bear headings, falling rather into the context of letters. Sister Geraldine Me Today This morning It is good to share in the Presence of my Lord. Today, Christ is in the touchables. He is in all that matters 829 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 --and doesn't matter. He is Lord of even the mediocre. Today, all I have is mediocrity, And the Lord is here--within all. He promised my coming and my going --my feeling and my unfeeling. I will not leave myself today. I will be--who I am, What I am--with Him. He will have--what I am He will love--what I am He will see--what I cannot see, Unable to see--but quiet In the truth--in Him Who is me. Me I wake in the mornings, and life, apart from the need, The great and unfulfilled need, to find silence, Comes like a great abyss of emptiness over me, Conflicts--tightening and exposing. But today--I felt my own fingers And knew that I was apart from them. I no longer felt my fingers as mine-- I was apart--and I will become Believe, hoping--knowing That God and I will grow together. That God will remove himself from my becoming And become one with my being. And all is more than knowing--this is all! The end of why I am. He has returnedwand I live again A tiny flame of love burns-- And I will be of God. Annunciation Salutation breaks the silence. Words, like rain, drop softly Yet thunder in her ears--as Mary I Will Be-- Who I A m: Reflections Culled By / ~3~ Mother--bends to gather words Which fell on desert earth On drought and burnt horizons. And Mary--Mary speaks her word, And waters flow as streams Through valleys--leveledbhills--brought low. "Do unto me" is a gentle breeze Which sweeps Him into life--through Mary. Contemplation Placid wilderness, You are the cold place--the quiet place and I, shivering in the coldness of your night, I do not mind you. For you have beauty in your wildness And comfort in your darkness And I hold you to me As a singer holds her song Awaiting her final note. Contemplation And I still wait upon His word Though He has laid waste my fields And cast me beyond my knowledge. He has dazzled me in splendor, He has made me sick with love. And though His ways are hard, And tears in solitude have blinded and drenched my roots I wait--humbled--in patience For He calls me by my name And His gracious ways Are beyond my knowledge. Autumn Snow is falling today--not crystals Multi-fashioned of cosmic force-- But life-sprung, from seed and fruit. Our early autumn snow--crisp and dry 839 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 Gentle leaves, slipping on windgusts In their own wafting way Assimilate cold-country snow. Nature Wind, I have rushed like you and blown before me fallen leaves. Clouds, I have touched like you The tips of hills--scudded mountains. Today a man will trample you, Grass, And I, too, will feel your pain. Winter fare It is raining today! Deep inside, water is falling-- And a heart, drenched From constant deluge, ' Hopes for dryness--desert warmth It is raining today, in my heart. Faith To sing relentlessly all my day-- Whether hearing the song, or merely listening for it-- I will sing, I believe-- In heart open, breaking forth-- My song will herald the quiet and the splendor Of the Lord I sing to, Whose music I step to A sound of gentle movement--a manner of being A manner of becoming--movement, Life and splendor. Bobby Progress in Centering Prayer M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington's last article, "The Vocation of the 'Vocation Father,' " appeared in the May, 1979, issue. He continues to reside in St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, MA 01562. ~ would like to share with you three reactions to Centering Prayer. Recently I led a workshop on Centering Prayer for the Eastern Asso-ciation of Seminary Spiritual Directors. After an initial presentation, one of the spiritual directors asked; "Is this the kind of prayer we should move our directees toward, with the idea that, when they get there, they will stay there?" On another occasion a young religious was shirring with me his experience in prayer. After his first few experiences of transcending, he said, he asked himself: "Is this a!l there is to it?" Finally, a priest who had been centering regularly for several years wrote to me from Rome shortly after his election as superior general of his congre-gation: "As for the prayer, all I can say is that when I miss it, I miss it." Itseems to me that that spiritual director, who was not yet well acquaint-ed with or practiced in experiential prayer, was still approaching prayer as a project. This is most common. In our accomplishment-orientated society we tend to approach everything as a project--something to be done, accom-plished. There is a determined, measurable, finished'product in view. In prayer the program or project is lined up according to some traditional teach-ing. If a more ancient teaching, we might think in terms of lectio, meditatio, oratio, contemplatio--receiving the Word of faith through listening or read-ing, internalizing it by a faith-response in discursive or imaginative medita-tion, responding to it in living, affective power, and finally enjoying it in 833 834 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979/6 ¯ quiet contemplation. We may be sophisticated enough to know that no one of these four will ordinarily occur as a pure state or way of prayer. There will usually be an admixture. As, for example, in Centering Prayer: we begin with a moment of recall, bringing forth from our memory the Word of Faith. Then we briefly reflect on it and respond to the reality it bespeaks. We then move to the center, the Presence, in affective love. And finally, there abide in contemplation. The four stages are present, and one predominates: contem-plation. It is this latter that is seen as the "goal" when prayer is conceived as a project; we want to get to the stage where contemplation predominates. Or, to express this using another, perhaps more common terminology: our aim is conceived as getting through the purgative and illuminative stages to the unitive, where we can, in our prayer--and more and more, outside of it also --retain a sense of our oneness with God, abide in his presence, touch and enjoy him in all persons and things. Certainly this is a state we do want to enjoy in our lives. And we are real-istic in thinking that it is something that will in its full realization come about gradually, something that we can foster by our spiritual practices and espe-cially by serious, prayer. But the fallacy I detect here is the tendency to identify particular expe-riences with certain stages of growth, and in particular to identify a certain kind of prayer, a contemplative type of prayer such as Centering Prayer, with a certain advanced stage of progress, and to make a project of its,attainment. All Christian prayer does imply a certain turning from self to God, some acceptan,~ce, h6wever implicit, of his personal revelation o~f himself, and a re-sponse to that'. This, therefore, does imply some "progress."~But apart from this basic conversion or turning to God with mind and ~eart, I do not think we can bind any form of prayer to a particular stage of progress in the Chris-tian or godly life. William of Saint Thierry, one of the great spiritual fathers of the twelfth century; and of all time, wrote a beautiful little treatise, On the Nature and Dignity of Love. In it he depicts the growth of the Christiafi, using as his analogue man's natural growth from infancy through childhood, youth, and maturity° to the wisdom of old age. At the conclusion of his very~rich and beautiful description, which includes some deeply insightful and loving re. flections on our Lord Jesus Christ, William says: It must be remembered, .however, that the stages of love [we can substitute the word prayer, in each case, as it is but an expression~of love] are not like the rungs of a ladder. The soul does not leave,the lesser love behind it as it moves onward to the more perfecL All the degrees of love~work together as one, and for this reason another soul's experi-ence of the scale of love may well follow an order which differs from the one 1 have described. ' ~ In .other words, if we want to think in terms of a ladder, then we should Progress in Centering Prayer / 835 see the ladder lying flat on the ground, so that we can be on all the rungs at the same time. Growth in the Christian life is a matter of intensification, of growing toward loving God in Christ with one's whole mind, whole soul and whole strength. At any moment, mind, heart, soul and strength should be at play, each in its own inte.nsity. At a particular time one may be enjoying a deep ex-perience of union with' ,God on one level, thanks to the touch of his grace, while on another level still be strugglingwith quite naked passions. In a word, one might beenjoying a contemplative type of prayer, true prayer, authentic prayer, while still needing and undergoing a process of purgation and purifi-cation in regard to certain deviant tendencies, and a process of growth in understanding in regard to some Of the basic facets of the divine revelation. It is false to relegate contemplative prayer to a marked' state Of Christian perfection or to consider its practitioner as one who "has arrived" there. A contemplative type of prayer is a way of prayer open to anyone who truly seeks God.' And it is the type of 16rayer experieffce that frill ordinarily best help one to make progress in 'the Christian life, to be purified and illumined, and to abide more integrally in union with God in and through all. It is, therefore, not something to be worked toward, a project to I~e undertaken, a goal, but simply a way to b~ entered into, an experience that can be enjoyed --and struggled with--by all who seek GOd'. But this means that the experience of contemplative prayer is open to de-velopment. The initial experien~ce of transcendent union with God is not an ultimate experience. The young religious was right to question,after his first experiences: "Is this all there is to it?" And at the same moment he was shar-ing with me, he.well knew the answer, for he had been faithful to contempla-tive prayer through several years and therefore knew !t was an evolving ex-perience. But it is an experience, and an ,experience that is beyond thought.or feel-ing or emotion. Therefore, we are not really able to capture it in words. It is good; in fact, it is of the substance of our lives. Once we have begun to be really in touch with it; to know it actually, we will say with that superior general, "When I miss it, I miss it." While most of the "official" pray-ers in the Church are celibates, the analogy of married love, it seems to me, can best help towards understanding and appreciating ~the contemplative experience. God himself, in'~the Old Testament, when he wanted to convey to his~peop!e the fullness and intensity of his personal love for them, again and again had recourse to the analogy,of human lovers. We, following perhaps not a few of the Fathers, tend to shy away from taking this portrayal of God's love for us with any literalness and are quick to spiritualize it, to reduce it to mere imagery. But it is precisely its integralness on an experiential level that makes human love such an apt image and ultimately makes it worthy of being, in the New, Testament, elevated to the sacramental order as the sign of Christ's love for us, his Church. 836 / Review for Religious, l~olume 38, 1979/6 The analogy has a good bit to say to us in regard to experiential prayer. Those who use the sex act seeking only gratifying experiences rather than holding it as the most integral way of expressing truly human love find it to be but an experience which quickly plateaus. New techniques, positions, ap-proaches are sought to increase and vary the stimulation, but the long-term result is inevitably frustration, or at best something far short of,. full human satisfaction. So, too, the one who uses methods of meditation or prayer to "have" experiences will soon ask, as did the young religious: "Is this all there is to contemplation?" And soon one will be trying other methods, looking to diverse traditions and teachers. But if one is truly seeking God, if.the use of a method of prayer such as Centering Prayer is undertaken to find a way to express one's love and desire for God in a fuller, more integral, freer way, then the method opens not only to a gratifying experience, but allows the fuller experience gradually, and sometimes quickly, to unfold. Newlyweds would greatly deceive themselves and be much disillusioned if they thought their first bungling attempts at making love were all that sex in marriage could be. Rather, as they attain a greater ease and facility with the bodily ex-pression, it should take its proper role as the vehicle for the fullness of their human and sacramental, grace-enlivened love. Then, free from false and exorbitant expectation, the physical experience will reveal its potential' to be part of an endlessly fuller realization of the union of love and life. So, too, the contemplative experience of God, in :harmony with the whole growth of Christian life which it especially fosters and matures, will daily become a fuller, richer experience. But the qualitative growth of the inexpressible is itself no less inex-pressible. One will only know by the very experience itself and, to some ex-tent, by its overflow into one's life, that this experience is an ever more mean-ingful and fulfilling expression of one's being. As a little boy I used to enjoy, of a summer's evening, to sit on the top step of-the porch and just be there. There was something indescribably good about being there. In the background my grandparents sat, silently, on the porch swing, rarely exchanging a word. I realize now that that something that made this an especially good and memorable experience was the currents of love that flowed between these two whose understanding and communion had matured through m~any decades. And these currents reached ou.t to enfold me. The man or woman whose love of God has matured through years of intimacy is the one whose presence brings enfolding love. We usually call such a person a saint. But the person himself is usually too much in ttie current of love and its outreach to notice anything special going on on the outside. In regard to the inner reality he is apt to say with the Prophet, "My secret is mine. My secret is mine." Many, though, will still be inclined to ask: "As we go on in Centering Prayer, won't we be aware of some progress? Won't we have a greater fa-cility? Won't there be fewer thoughts, greater peace, etc.?" I think in actual Progress in Centering Prayer / 837 fact we say "yes" to such questions. Yet I say that with some hesitancy and fear, for as soon as we begin to approach theprayer with any expectations, in any way seeking something for ourselves, instead of purely and simply seeking God, we undermine the purity of the prayer and thereby impede our" progress. Undoubtedly, as we repeatedly settle:into the prayer, we gain a greater fa-cility to do so. As the prayer grows in meaningfulness for us, a certain eager-ness aids our entry into it. As a greater love compels us to seek the Lord more wholeheartedly, we will more readily let go of lesser concerns so as to turn ourselves to the presence in our depths. Our chosen "word" will grow in its facility to take us to the depths. In fact, at quiet moments when we are initially not thinking of prayer, the word will arise spontaneously, beckoning us to enjoy a moment's repose in the center. With regard to thoughts: Yes, in general we might expect that after a time they will be less.interfering. The basic surface flow of thoughts and images will depend largely on our own particular make-up. Some of us will always be more given to thoughts and feelings than others. But as we grow in love and detachment--two of the many fruits of this prayer--a particular thought will be less apt to get a hold on us and pull us away from the presence at the center. Experience will teach us more and more to ignore the apparent or real inspirations and brilliant ideas. We will know that they are actually usually half-baked, that they will usually emerge again at some free moment when we will have the leisure to evaluate and use them. As for our little friend, the monitor of self-reflection, with the growth of God-centered love and detachment from self and with his simply being ignored he will gradually give up--at least to some extent. As the author of The Cloud of Unknowing assures us: Should some thought go on annoying you, demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone, if your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies' in its simplicity. Do this and I assure you these thoughts will vanish. Why.'? Because you have refused to develop them with arguing (c.7). Increasing peace will let us move through life with less stress, and re-peated soakings in Centering Prayer will release the built-up stresses of the past, so there will be less need of thoughts on that score. So, all in all, we should ordinarily, as time goes on, be freer and freer from thoughts, left more to enjoy uninterruptedly the presence. All of this is apart from an increased activity on the part of God to draw us into a deeper experience of himself through the graces of what some authors have called "passive contemplation." The Lord, of course, is always free to take special intiative and, if he wants, to take us so beyond our own center into himself to the extent that we can only speak of ecstasy. But until he so takes a hand in things there will always be some mental activity. And we should expect recurring difficult periods as he leads us into deeper and deeper freedom through a more thoroughgoing purification. 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 At every stage the rule remains the same: Whenever we become aware of anything we simply let it go by, gently returning to the center by the use of our prayer word. Becausb the development we are concerned with herb is essentially a ques-tion of experience, it can, to put it simply, be known only by experience. The Fathers, when speaking of this, repeatedly say--and I must admit it sounds at first hearing a bit snobbish: Those who have experienced this know what I am talking about. And those who have not, pray that you may have the experi-ence, and then you will know. I have often told people that if, before I entered thee monastery, anyone had ever given me an idea of the pain and sorrow I would encounter in my years as a monk, 1 would have run fast in the opposite direction, because they could never have conveyed to me the experience of love that I would find. Such experience can be gained only in the living. Having that experience, l have never for a day,'an hour or even for a moment regretted having re-sponded to the Lord's most merciful and gracious invitation. We have to enter into the experience of Centering Prayer and let it reveal itself to us day by day. I entered the monastery and stayed long enough to "taste and see how sweet is the Lord" because I heard and saw the witness of those who were willing to share this way with me. So too, we need to hear the witness and see in the lives of others the fruit of Centering Prayer to induce us to practice it faithfully until itself can reveal to us its own meaning. And we, in turn, need to share.what we receive and let the beauty of the Lord's work in our live~ shine forth so that others will be attracted to begin and persevere in the practice till they, too, know and can share. "Freely have you received, freely give." One can then rightly expect to. make progress in Centering Prayer. But one should not see that progress primarily, or try to evaluate it, by what hap-pens on the level of thought or feelings during the prayer. The reduction of thoughts, the feeling of peace and so forth are truly accidental' and no true norm of what is going on. Above all we need to avoid coming to this prayer with expectations. For expectations involve seeking something for ourselves --seeking in some way ourselves--and this undermines the very essence of this prayer which is essentially a total, pure seeking of God, a total giving over of ourselves to him. Only I~y a repeated abiding in this will we, bit by bit, die to our false selves and live more freely unto God so that we come to know more and more fully the expbrience of being, through a union of love, one with our V~ery God. Sisters and Nurses Joseph H. Fichter, S.J. This article is part of a larger study being prepared in regard to religion and pain, focusing on the hospital personnel who bring the consolations of religion to the sick. Father Fichter, of Loyola University (New Orleans) is presently on sabbatical leave. He is residing at Corby Hall; Univer-sity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. he occupational role of women has been Changing rapidly in the recent past of American society. Women are given assurances by affirmative-action emPloyers that they will have job opportunities equal to those of males in the work force. Nevertheless there is still the stereotype and the actuality of certain kinds of "women's work" as exemplified in some areas of the helping professions: social work, school teaching and.nursing. Even in these areas, both in the Church and in the larger society, the manggerial positions are.still largely in the hands of males. The statement of Vatican II, that "wpmen claim for themselves an equitywith men before the law and in fact," is still short of achievement.' Our specific quest for the spiritual ,dimensions of health care focuses here on the women who are engaged in the personal service to the sick in Catholic hospitals. Many religious women hold responsible~positi~ons in administra-tion in the hospital system, just as they do in the field of Catholic education. If spirituality is exemplified anywhere in the Catholic hospital system it ought to be found among the women who have dedicated their lives to God in the service of sick and needy people. Historically, there gradually developed groups of Christian women who formed religious communities specifically 'Gaudium et Spes, n. 9.The first papal statement on equal rights of women came from John XXIII in Pacem in Terris (1963), n. 41. 839 840 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 dedicated to health care. In later years they have been joined by more and more trained and dedicated lay women in the nursing care of people in pain, The Helping Professions Vocational opportunities for women within the American Catholic Church have been in traditional female occupational roles, with the largest number in the Catholic school system. A survey of female religious person-nel, made about two decades ago, showed that 81o70 were teaching, 120707 were in hospital work, and the rest in several forms of social work.2 About nine out of ten of all fulltime teachers in the Catholic school system were female (61 o70 sisters and 28o70 lay women). Teaching is still the Catholic occu-pation that employs the largest number of women, but the proportion of lay women teachers has increased significantly while the number of elementary parochial schools has declined. Women continue to dominate in the Church's institutions of education and social service but numerous factors account for the shift of emphasis indicated in the following table. We have already seen that the number of Catholic hospitals and schools of nursing have dramatically declined. With the lower birthrate, the numbers of orphanages and infant asylums have also gone down. On the other hand, the growing proportion oi~ the elderly in our society has resulted in the establishment of more homes for the aged. Every large diocese in the country has a variety of institutions to carry on the works of mercy, and they hire professional social workers, most of whom are women. These organizations have different labels while covering approx-imately the same~kind of services to the needs of the people~ Most of them had been under the title of Catholic Charities, but are also known as the Department of Christian Service, Family Life Bureau, Program for Refugees and Migrants, and often there are special committees for types of handi-capped persons, the lame, the blind and the deaf. None of these apostoli( ministries could continue to function ~successfully if there were not large numbers of conscientious and trained women available. Table l--Distribution of Establishments in Which Catholic Women Religious Are Employed, 1963 and 1978 1963 1978 Parochial,Elementary Schools 10,322 7,959 Hospitals and Sanatoria 946 728 Schools of Nursing 342 124 Homes for the Aged 357 486 Orphanages and Infant Asylums 258 204 Protective Institutions 134 122 When these diocesan bureaus and committees first began they were 2See Jospeh H. Fichter, Religion as an Occupation (Notre Dame, University of Notre Dame Press, 1961), pp. 145-148. Sisters and Nurses / 841 almost always headed by a clergyman--a monsignor if the post was pres-tigious enough--and may have included one or two professionally trained religious sisters. As the social needs became more apparent and as these insti-tutions increased in size, they employed more and more lay women social workers. The helping professions also grew more demanding for further and more complicated education and training. The criterion for employment began to place almost as much emphasis on the fact that a woman was trained for the work as on the fact that she was of the Catholic faith. The feminist movement has brought forth many legitimate complaints about discriminatory sexism in organized religion, and particularly in the Roman Catholic Church.~ There is, however, one positive aspect that is fre-quently overlooked. It is only within the Catholic Church that large numbers of women, religious sisters, hold important positions in the faculty and ad-ministration of women's colleges. This is true also of the other establishments listed in the above table, where nuns held responsibility for hospitals and orphanages and old folks' homes, and other facilities in Catholic charities. Before the Second Vatican Council there was occupational upward mobility for Catholic women, but it was almost exclusively for the members of relig-ious congregations.' While the sex distribution of the respondents to this study is not meant to reflect the actual proportions of men and women in these Catholic hospitals, we find that almost two-thirds of them (64%) are female. The listing of hos-pitals in the Catholic Directory usually provides the names of the administra= tot and the priest chaplain, and the number of religious sisters and nurses. It does not reveal how many males are employed at the hospital, but simple observation and experience in these hospitals demonstrate that females far outnumber males. The number of women physicians is gradually increasing, but there continues to be a predominance of males in the medical staff of these hospitals. Fewer Women Religious When Cardinal Suenens published his popular book, Nun in the World, in 1963,~ the American religious women were busy about improved profes-sional training and an expanded apostolate. Various options were earnestly discussed and we were reminded that "the hospital apostolate is almost unlimited: contact with patients in apostolic follow-up in their homes; con-tact with the families of patients, often themselves spiritual patients for our ministrations; home visiting of the sick and aged in the parish; organizing ~See Mary Daly, The Church and the Second Sex (New York, Harper and Row, 1968), Chapter I, "The Case Against the Church." 'See Sally Cunneen, Sex: Female; Religion: Catholic (New York, Holi, Rinehart and Winston, 1968), Chapter 7, "Nuns in Evolution. " 'Leon-Josef Cardinal Suenens, Nun in the Worm (Philadelphia, Westminster, 1963). 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 retreats and recollection-days for different categories of patients, for doc-tors, nurses, personnel; organizing action groups of the same categories ~for training in the apostolate and in their roles in. the Church.''6 It was a time of great aspirations when almost unlimited opportunities for development lay before the American congregations of religious women. In 1966, the year after the,close of the Second Vatican Council the number of religious Sisters reached its,peak, 181;421. By 1978 this number had shrunk to 129,391, and the repercussions of this .shrinkage were felt in all the Church apostolates where the nuns had been making their greatest occupational con-tribution. Fewer young women were entering the novitiates of religious con-gregations to replace those who had died and especially to fill the roles of the large numbers who resigned from the sisterhoods.7 There is no need to dis-cuss here the reasons for this decline in the numbers of vocations among women :religious, a decline:which is apparent also in all Catholic male church professionals: priests, brothers, seminarians. Meanwhile the American Catholic population continued to grow; new dioceses were established and new parishes were opened. Because of the shortage of sisters to staff the elementary and secondary schools many of them had to close down and others had to employ a growing echelon of lay teachers. The lack of religious women to staff and administer Catholic schools of nursing was one of the reasons, why so many of.them went out of existence. Many changes of personnel occurred also in the Catholic hospital system. ~ With the exception of three institutions operated by congregations of religious brothers, all of the hospitals of this study are under the auspices of religious congregations of women. Some of the largest of these hospitals have more than twenty-five nuns on the staff,8 but the average number for all of them is 11.1 religious sisters. In otherwords, the 297 sisters' hospitals of this survey had 3,300 religious women serving the patients in various capacities. The following table reveals their distribution in the several categories of hospital work. ~ ; Table 2--Occupational Distribution of 3,300 Religious Sisters in 297 Catholic Hospitals Number Percent Bedside Nurses 556 16.9 Pastoral Care 657 19.9. Supervisors 905 27~4 Other Positions ~ 1,182 35.8 °Sister,Gertrude Donnelly, The Sister Apostle (Notre Dame, Fides, 1964), p. 21. 'For a sociolological analysis of this phenomenon see Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (Aus-tin, University of Texas Press, 1977). For an earlier study see Joseph H. Ficter, Religion as an Occupation, Chapter 8, "Giving Up the Vocation." 'For the correct definition of sisters and nun's see W. B. Ryan, New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 10, p. 575 for "nun," and vol. 13~ p. 261, for "sister." Sisters and Nurses Most of the religious sisters who took hospital training and became reg-istered nurses say that they had originally intended to exercise their apostolic ministry as bedside nurses. Indeed, when the oldest of these' hospitals was first established practically all of the bedside nursing was done by religious sisters. This was the direction in which their vocation lay, I~ut circumstances decreed otherwise. Over the decades, as the hospitals expanded and the num-ber of patients multiplied, many lay women were trained in nursing while many of the sisters became head nurses and supervisors or moved into admin-istrative positions. At the present time, and among the hospitals answering this survey, almost three out of ten (28~/0) do not have any sisters at all in the role of bedside nursing. A'young lay nurse in a Catholic hospital of over 350 beds told us that she knew of only three bedside nursing sisters out of the 238 nurses in the hos-pital. She felt that the sisters have certain educational ~iiad [9rofessional ad-vantages in belonging to religious congregations, '~They"don't have to pay for their own training and education, and they are able to get bachelor's and master's degrees in nursing. They get to be supervisors on the different floors and wardSof the hospital. The sisters, of course, are the administrators of.th6 hospital.''It is true that the sister nurses answering our questionnaire are twice as likely as the non-sisters to have attained an acad6mic degree. Many of the hospitals conducted by religious congregations of women continue to have a sister as president, chief executive or administrator, but there is a gradually increasing proportion that now employ trained lay per-sons in positions of top management. From the point of view of personal and spiritual contact with sick people, however, the most significant switch for sisters has been away from the immediate beds.ide care of the sick. It is inter-esting that the largest single category of sisters iri Table 2 is made up of women iff"'other'' positions which constitute an interminable listing in the financ( office, the cafeteria, the laundry, the laboratory, and elsewhere in the hospital.9 This does not mean that all of these positions are filled by sisters who-were formerly involved in nursing. As a matter of fact; most of them were trained and educated for non-medical occupations. '~ Non,Sister Nurses As the numbers of religious women decline, and as they move from bed-side nursing to 'Supervisory 'positions and to other hospital functions, their prayerful influence on the patients will be funneled through the nurses work-ing under their direction. Whether or not this will lessen the influenceof the consolations of religion to sick people will probably depend on the extent to which the lay women nurses fulfill the spiritual functions of the Catholic hospital s~,stem. "If a Catholic .health facility is to witness to Christian values ~The Variety of people who deal directly or indirectly with the patient is listed by Beverly Du Gas, Introduction to Patient Care (Philadelphia, Saundcrs, 1977), p. 104. ~144 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 today, it must do so through the services rendered and values expressed by its employees in their contacts with patients and fellow staff.'''° At the present time in these Catholic hospitals the vast majority of the nurses are lay women, and almost one-third of them (32°70) are not members of the Catholic Church. For the most part, however, they are Christian believers and have affiliation with various Protestant churches. The compar-isons we make here between the sisters and non-sisters who are nurses do not revolve around their technical and medical skills. The non-sisters are on the average two years younger than the sisters, have been in hospital work for fewer years, and fewer have academic degrees in nursing. We assume, how-ever, that all these nurses have been tested for professional competence and are retained in employment on the basis of experience and proven ability to deal with sick people. The comparative analysis then centers on questions of faith, spirituality, the consolations of religion. One of the puzzling differences between these two categories of nurses is that the lay women appear to have a higher appreciation of the hospital's efforts to bring religion to the patients. When we asked them, "In general, how is spiritual ministry to the sick rated in this hospital?" the lay nurses were much more likely (70°70) than the sister nurses (540/0) to give a high rating. We asked them also to make a general assessment of pastoral care at their hospital," and again the non-sisters were more likely (56°70 to 310/0) than the sisters to say that it is "excellent." Indeed, one-fifth of the sisters assessed it as "only fair." One may speculate that because of their religious training and professed ideals, the sisters have higher expectations of the hospital's spiritual ministry and place greater demands on the people in the pastoral care department. In other words, they are less easily satisfied with the quality of spiritual care than are the non-sisters. It is likely also that they pay closer attention and know more about the actual ministry that is being conducted for the religious benefit of the sick patients. Religious practices are more central to their whole way of life, both personal and professional, and this seems certain to sharpen their awareness of others. The proportional responses were switched when we asked the much more personal question about their own spirituality. When we asked to what extent these hospital nurses considered spiritual ministry to the sick an aspect of their own daily work, a higher percentage of sisters (~87°/0) than of non-sisters (71070) said that they consider it "essential." There was practically the same proportional difference (87°70 to 73070) of agreement to the statement that '°William Kenney and Charles Ceronsky, "Developing Christian Values in a Catholic Health Fa-cility," Hospital Prog~'ess, vol. 55, October, 1974, pp. 32, 36-37. "A similar question asked of patients in a large Catholic hospital in Minnesota elicited responses that differed according to the church affiliation of the patient. See Cashel Weiler, "Patients Evaluate Pastoral Care," Hospital Progress, vol. 56, April, 1975, pp. 34-35, 38. Sisters and Nurses / 845 "you can't be a good health professional unless you have a spiritual perspec-tive on life." We proposed also the statement that "the holistic approach in modern health care has to include spiritual ministration to patients." Here again the sisters were much more likely (8007o) than the non-sisters (57070) to say that they "strongly agree" with this statement. It is clear then that the religious conceptualization of the health care pro-fession is of greater significance to the women religious than it is to the non-sisters. Nevertheless, many of the lay women give the impression of deep spir-itual solicitude. "There is a manner about them; they are comfortable with themselves and this is reflected in the way they are with peers, with patients and families. I mean there is a love there that is radiated to others." These remarks were made by a clinical nurse specialist who has been friend and counselor of many nurses. Both types of nurses say that they pray for God's guidance in the work they do daily with sick people, and this tends to be a relatively brief petition for divine help rather than a formal meditative prayer. Practically all of the sisters, and about seven out of ten of the non-sisters report that they "reg-ularly pray" for their patients, asking God to relieve their pain and anxieties. In approximately the same comparative proportions they also say that they "sometimes pray" with patients. Aside from the pastoral care department, which now also includes women, the hospital nurses constitute the main instrument for bringing the consolations of religion to people in pain. Summary The helping pr6fessions of personal service in the Catholic Church are largely in the hands of women, mainly in school teaching, secondly in hos-pital work, and also in social work. In the early sixties there was almost unre-strained enthusiasm about the prospects for women's i'eligious orders. In spite of later charges of sexism, the Catholic Church was the only system in the country that provided opportunities of upward mobility for women in schools and colleges, hospitals, and departments of social welfare. The drastic decline of membership in the religious congregations forced some shifts in the occupational distribution of sisters. Many .parochial schools closed down. Hospitals either retrenched their work force, or hired more and more lay women. The hospital sisters themselves tended to move from bedside nursing to supervisory and administrative positions. Their contact with patients, and their opportunities for spiritual consolation, became remote and less personal. The majority of nurses now in Catholic hospitals are lay women, a signif-icant number being non-Catholics. Nevertheless, they hold the pastoral min-istry to the sick in high regard. The majority of them appreciate the need of a spiritual perspective in health care and agree that spiritual ministry to the sick is an integral aspect of their job as nurses. In personal habits of prayer, how-ever, the religious sisters have more training, experience and appreciation. On Monastic Sexuality James M. Deschene, O.S.B. Brother James' last article, "The Mystic and the Monk: Holiness and Wholeness," appeared in the issue~of July, 1979. Since then, Brother's address has changed to: Ecumenical Monks; P.O. Bo~ 462; Oakdale, NY 11769. monk, almost by definition, is an enigmatic figure. Where most men and women seek out solid niches in society, the monk remains on the fringes, a shadow-figure hard to categorize. While most people seek to make names for themselves and build families to succeed them, the monk.stands apart in a curious,.anonymity, "surrounded by an aura of solitude whidh the modern world finds fascinating, though not perhaps entirelE appealing. Yet of all the enigmatic aspects of the monk's life,°perhhps nothing is more odd to the modern mind than his permanent commitment to a celibate life. There must be moments in the frenetic busyness of life when the monk's solitude appeals to many; moments when his quiet anonymity looks like a sweet .relief from the constant checks and appraisals society makes of most men. and women; moments, too, when the odd "outlaw'.~ freedom of the monk appeals to those whom society has neatly imprisoned in its labels and categories. One can imagine much of the monk's life having at times a certain appeal and enviability for many people, But it would be the rare person, in-deed, who found himself envying the celibacy of the monk's life. ~ In our time--l~erhapS more than in any previous age--celibacy is an enigma and a mystery. But it is through this mystery, faithfully lived out from day to day, that the monk is finally led to a fulfillment and a peace the modern world so desperately seeks y~t so rarely finds. Let it be clear at once that all this is not to say that celibacy ought to be 846 On Monastic Sexuality lived by everyone--it should not. Nor that celibacy is the only path to fulfill-ment and peace--it is not. No sensible person would make such claims. Yet celibacy is~meant to bring into the monk's life a.dimension present, though usually obscured, in the life of every man and ~woman. In being faithful to his commitment to the celibate life, the monk provides an essential witness to this dimension and to its value in the life of authentically human men and women. This is the dimension of intimacy in human love. We cannot hope to understand the mystery of celibacy until we have ex-plored the mystery of intimacy in human life. I suspect, in fact, that much of the modern negative view of celibacy has arisen out of a failure to see and appreciate this deep bond between celibacy and intimacy. Much negative feel-ing- sad to say--must also be attributed to the failure of many celibate reli-gious either to be genuinely celibate or, more commonly, to live celibate lives which radiate rich and deep intimacy. So many celibate men and women have failed tQ generate and radiate the deep affection and luminous warmth that is kindled by genuine intimacy in persons who are not merely unafraid of inti-macy but embrace it joyfully and embody it in their lives. There are few sad-der and more tragic figures in the world than those monks and nuns who, after years in Christ's~,service, have not bloomed with warm human love. These are men and women whose hearts should have blazed like suns with love, yet now lie cold and dead within them. The tragedy is very much theirs, but it is everyone's tragedy too. For it was )ust through these prophetic fig-ures that Christ wanted to work in the world living signs of love. Through them, through their commitment to him, Christ hoped to work miracles of grace, to convince the world that to be human is to be gloriously loving and alive. It was to these figures that the world would come to drink living water; yet too often all the world finds there is a heart of stone. We must pray for such men and women that Christ willprotect them from the despair that daily haunts them. We must do what we can to be loving, warm and intimate human persons ourselves. Celibacy without intimacy is a dead thing. Celibacy without warmth is a deadly thing. Themedieval poet, William Langland, in his i/ision of Piers Plowman tells us that "chastity without charity will be crhained in hell. such a loveless virtue as this shall be fettered in hell.'" To really understand the mystery of celibacy then, we must explore the my~stery of intimate human love. What one discovers almost at once is that intimacy is no merely social or psychological dimension of our person, but one whose roots lie deep in the very ground of our humanness. Intimacy is a real metaphysical dimension of human life. To explore its. landscape is to,.discover whole realms of our human being, heights and depths of which we are often--perhaps sometimes deliberately--unaware. 'William Langland, Piers tire Ploughman (Baltimore: Penguin Book, 1966), p. 37. 848 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/6 It is important to know from the very start that this landscape of intimacy is not entirely or even primarily the "garden of earthly delights" purveyed by some modern psychologists. Visions of false intimacy abound in our time, luring us with promises of fulfillment no genuine intimacy would ever prom-ise to deliver. We must not confuse intimacy with some kind of utopia--a word, it helps to recall, meaning "nowhere." True intimacy will have the richness and complexity of reality about itS' Intimacy is a very real--indeed essential--element of a truly human life. Coming from the Latin intimus, meaning innermost, intimacy refers to the dimension of depth and of inwardness--the contemplativedimension in each of us, or as the ancient Fathers would call it--the heart. Insofar as a man or woman is in exile from this inner dimension of the heart, that person's life is a shallow affair, infertile and rootless. Alienated from the depths within, we cannot 'help but become dry, cold, shriveled crea-tures, thereby turning God's rich creation into a barren desert of death. Exiled from the heart, we become exiles on the earth. Our lives become sterile and meaningless, and intolerable loneliness drives us to search frantically for something--anything--to fill the aching void we feel. Yet so long as we are exiles from our true inner selves, we find no solace or comfort in any other creature. All our socializing, all our frantic sex can do nothing to bring us peace or rest or life. In this desert exile we learn that the things we so desperately seek to fill our emptiness are revealed, once we grasp them, as mirages. Where we saw water and thought our thirst about to be slaked, the cruel desert--raising our hopes only to dash them more brutally--reveals the illusion and offers us only its dry and deadly dust. Thirstier than ever we run about, sure, despite our every disappointment, that our thirst will be ~atisfied, that the desert will be kind. In this wasteland of our modern rootless lives, only a few paths lie open to us. We may go on as always, restlessly seeking, "distracted from distraction by distraction," hoping to outrun the dark, pursuing shadow that would whisper into our ears the meaninglessness of our lives; hoping perversely for death to deliver us :from bur fretful race and give us, if not peace, at least a blessed nothingness. Others of us, not so adept at fleeing dark truths, end this miserable travesty of life with the quick bullet in the brain or the slower suicide of alcohol and drugs. Still others learn to numb themselves, to deaden the fear and anxiety, to assent to their deathful existence and become living corpses devoid of warmth, liveliness, humor or love. Finally, some few learn to stop in their hectic flight, to resist the whispering voices that offer distrac-tion or tempt one to despair. They learn to become still, to halt beneath that harsh sun and send down their roots into the burning sand in search of water. How foolish these last ones must appear to the others! Yet they alone of all our exiled race stand some chance of becoming really grounded and root-ed-- creatures in touch with the vital source of life, the living water that flows On Monastic Sexuality / 849 in the desert's hidden depths. They are, in a word, contemplatives. Or if that seems too re6aote or specialized a term for modern ears, let us call them people for

Issue 38.1 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15,00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January, 1979 Volume 38 Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW Fort R~LICIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Review for Religious Volume 38, 1979 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108" Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, SJ. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Stewardship, Justice and the Religious Purpose in Education William J. Byron, S.J. Father Byron is President'of Scranton Univergity; Scranton, PA 18510. ere are three ideas°ar'ound which I would like toor, ganize this essay. The first two., stewardship and justice, will be relat~ ely brief. The tfiird notion concerns ou~" religious purpose in edu'cation. I holSe to develop it'in~ a way that will make a case for the educ~itional apostolate as'an +xercise of stewardship arid an instrument of justice. Stewardship It has been interesting to obser~ve in the 15as! several°years a renewed' interest in the notion of s~eWardshil5°in the Catholic 'community. We are discove'ring (or rediscoverifig) that"riOt ~0nly is stewardship a simple term, it is also an uncbmplicated~solutioh to significant portions "of some major s~ciai prolSlems. In practice, stewardship is an instrument of social justice. Reflo~ztiOn°ofi'ste~a~dghil~ might begin with the first verse of the Twdfity-fourth Ps~l~a: '"The earth is the Lord's iind"the fulhess thereof." All of material 6reation, as Well as all wealth flowing from it, b~longs to God. Wealth possessed ~r~produced by human persons is owne~ by' God. We own nothing abs0iut~ly; all We have we hold in trust. Thi~ is the ffiith foundation of th6 stewardship perspective. As composites c~f body and soul, we include our intellectual and spiritual resources as part, of the basic endowment which belongs ~to the Lord: Our use of both ~nateri~l and immaterial r~sources is intended to be an exercise of ste,.wafdshio.~ , .~ 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 All we have we hold in trust for other~for those who inhabit this planet with us.now, and for those who will live here in the future. Stewardship has inescapable societal obligations. Why do I say all we have is held in trust for others? Why not owned by God and held by me for my personal use? Why the social dimension? Possession of a particular share of created resources may be private, but that private share cannot be used without regard for others. There are two considerations here: one of equity, the other of responsibility. On the equity side I have to ask, "Is my share a fair one relative to the needs and claims of others?" Put another way, does my share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of others?" The equity issue quite obvi-ously relates more immediately to the possession and use of material re-sources rather than to those that are spiritual and intellectual. It is not necessary for someone to .know less mathematics so that I might know more. My food supply, however, may be held at the expense of someone less fortunate than I. Broadening the equity consideration from the individhal person to a larger group (as, for instance, one's race or nation) one can ask the equity question this way: does my group's share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of other groups-? The responsibility consideration looks to the future. Are resources being used now in a way that will provide for future generations a secure basis for their existence? Again, this is easier to see with respect to material re-sources. If we depli~e our oil supplies, will they have an alternative source of-energy? If we pollute our lakes and streams, will they have ffater to drink? If we fail to sustain our soil, will they have bread to sustain their lives? What we refer to as "our" resources are also theirs, for they, like us, are sons and daughters of the sole owner, the Lord, who has entrusted his creation to our care and for our use. We are stewards. We own nothing absolutely. All we have we hold in trust. As inhabitants of this earth at this time, we religious educators, like our feilow~ on this planet, have stewardship responsibilities. As members of a religious community, moreover, we possess a tradition, a history, a style, some physical assets and an impressive array of spiritual and intellectual resources. We own none of these absolutely; all of these we hold in trust. We are stewards of this collective religious-community endowment. We face, therefore, considerations of equity and responsibility as we manage our collective endowment. The equity donsideration relates directly to justice and will be discussed in the next part of this article when we have to ask ourselves whether our share of these resources represents an unfair gain taken ai the expense of others. The responsibility consideration looks, as I suggested earlier, to the future. Are we using our resources, particularly our intellec.tual and spir-itual resources, in a way that is likely to enrich the lives of future inhabitants Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education of this planet?°The steward is in charge ofla household he does not.own. Is that ho, usehold being maintained by us in a state of apostolic readiness for effective service now and in the future? The story in ,Luke 16:1-8 of the "unjust steward" or "dishonest manager" serqi~s as a reminder that we can miSlase or misapply our heri-tage; we can indeed violate the trust that is ours. Failure to meet our responsibilities as stewards would mean failure to preserve a heritage that the Lord, the dominus, the owner of the householdmay well intend to have available for the service of future generations. To take my own Jesuit household as an example, I would include in my list of the central elements of the heritage that is now ours tb use and to preserve for the future these four: (1) The Spiritual Exercises, (2) development of the intellect, (3) service to the Holy See, and (4) apostolic flexibility. These four elements suggest that the Society of Jesus intends to foster in itself an embodiment of(1) holiness, (2)learning, (3) service to the Church, and (4)availability for necessary service ~an. ywhere in the world. ,~ Further specification of these elements rais'es four disturbing questions and one simple observation. The questions are these: 1. Does the prefer-ence .for poverty which characterizes The Spiritual Exercises also charac-terize the holiness of the Society today? 2. Does the emphasis on learning, present at the origins of the Society, remain an active emphasis in thisstage of the Society's growth and in all stages of the individual Jesuit's growth? 3. Does service to the Church of Christ and to the Vicar of Christ charac-terize our labors now as in the days of our origins? 4. Are we individually and collectively free to move our heritage and our resources in the direction of the greatest need, wherever that may be? The one observation I ~ould want to make in connection with the stewardship of the Jesuit heritage is this: formal education through the operation of schools, although part of the Jesuit tradition, is neither essen-tial to the heritage nor identifiable as an element that characterizes, the origins of the Society of Jesus. Similar reflection~, questions and observations can be directed toward the heritage and "household management" of any other religious commu-nity. " .~ o,~ 7 Justice Justice is symbolized by trays in balance on a scale. We speak of the "scale~ of justice." ~Vhen one tray yields weight to the other and imbalance occurs, the weights have to be adjusted to restore the balance. Imbalance symbolizes injustice; compen.sation makes adjustment (ad-just-ment), '~the achievement of justice, possible. Three years ago it was my privilege to address the New Orleans (Jesu'it) Province Assembly on th~ justice dimension of our apostolates~ In that paper I asked, "is ~our corporate apostolic service compensatory; are we 6 /ReviewforReligious; Volum~e 38, 197911. throwing our weight ~onto .the side of the oppressed?" I went on to say Symbolidally, justice is ~+l~resented by trays in balance on a scale.- The unbaladce of social injustice, where one group's advantage (th 'down tray) is taken at the expense .of another group (the up tray) calls for compensatory action.As a social group, we Jesuits should sh~ft our weight over to the weak stde. We see gaps between r, ch and poor, powerful and powerless, advantaged and disadvantaged. In exercising our min- " istry of justice, by whatever apostolic instruments, we sl~duld, it seems to me. trans- "' late the ideal of the Third Mode of humility into practice by choosing to be with Christ and as Christ---on the short side of all those gaps. Where do we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income, our apostolic energy? One of the delegat6s to that assembly was the talented young lawyer-activist Alfred C. Kammer, S.J. In the question peribd following my talk, he expressed his personal view that the Society, as a group, occupier solidly and squarely the down tray in most" of the gap-comparisons that come to mind. In his recent contribution to Studies in the' Spirituality of Jesuitst Fr. Kammer~returns to my question, "Where d6 we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income; our apostolic ener-gy?" and addresses it in these words: Th~ activist answers Father Byi'on's question by saying that the Society largely casts ' its weight with the "haves.'"with those who at best "don't care" and at worst are'the oppressors. He sees the institutional and personal weight of the Society lined up with the "haves" in such popular dichotomies as .these: white vs. black white vs. brown male vs. female U.S. vs. Third;World powerful vs. , powerless rich vs. poor . suburban vs. urban well-educated vs. poorly educated And, Fr. Kammer continues, "the,activist concludes that no matter how much Jesuits 'tinker' with their present .institutional commitments to facilitate the entry of some minority composed of the poor or disadvan, taged, th~e,.Society's weight is stii! .cgs.t overwhelmingly on the side of the well-off" (p~p. 10-11). I think Fred Kammer locates us Jesuits correctly. Weigh'ted do~v~ with the advantages of education, nutrition, health care, secure housing and all the other physical things necessary for our work, as well as those things less necessary but useful and convenient, we are on the down. tray, on the side of the well-off. Now_this raises many quegtions. What is the relatedness or relati0nship-between us and those who are less well off, those on the up tray, the disadvantaged. Are we Wher~we are because they are where they are? Has our gain been taken at their expense? With whom do we side when the issue ~" 'Burn-out' Contemporary Dilemma for the Jesuit Social Activist." Vol. X. No. 1, January 1978. Stewardship~ Justice and Purpos~e in Education is ,raised of redressing the balance? Without attempting to answer these difficult questions, I raise another that resurrects the,notion of stewardship. What are we do~ing ._with what we have? Do we manage it responsibly, share its, apply it,to the i,mprovement of life for others now and in the future? The Religious, CommUnity's Purpose in Education Many if,not most of us religious in America are stewarding our resources in an institutional educational environment. Will our stewardship-have anything .significant to contribute to .the promotion of justice? It may well be true that ~tinkering with our institutional arrangements will not shift our weight completely and existentially to the side of the poor and powerless. One need not conclude, however, that we must abandon our advantages. Nor does it follow that the down tray is necessarily the wrong place for' many religious to be. If we de=institutionalized our works, if wee gave away every physical asset we igossess ~nd went to live with the poor, poverty wo(dd be fieither relieved nor ~r~duced. We ar~ ~lo~t,lbcked 'into an adversary rel~ti6h~hip on the side ofth( rich againstth6 po6÷, 0n the side of whites against the blacks, on the side of a@ dominantgroup agaii~st any oppressed minoi'ity. We are in a position to'convert the "versus" linkages into hyphens find to forge connecting links of ~:econciliation between rich and poor, black and white, and other- di~,ided ~roups. A~dmittedly, many if not :most of us, a?e on the down tray. Admittedly, all occupants of the down tray will have to give somethingup if some semblance of balance is to b~.realized, and'most are unwilling to give up anything. And admittedly, the effort tO~'fi'chieve a balance between the trays is uphill and long range. But that is ttie.hatu're of the work we are called to do. Are we'free enough to do l~h~at i,v~b{k well? Central to an~ educational ~ork isthe develop~ment 0f"tiun~a~] potential. Human potential stretches into eternity;~the positive~side toward union with the Creatoi"bf that human p0t.e0[i-hl; the negative side points to the possibil: ity of eterh~i! alienation. , Formai education's inte{ests are coextensive with the entire range of positi~,e p~ssibiliti~s for human development. Recognition of this fact came early in Jesuit historY,. For more th~n four centuries now, we have been choosing formal education as an extr~brdinarily v~luable instrument for our work in the development of hum~.n potential. Many other religious in-sii'tutes have made'the same decision. ,:~ ,,~ ¯ At.this moment in our history, we Jesuits of the United States are faced with a.decline in numbers,'a fairly widespread loss.of nerve, some uneasi-ness ,about the appropriateness of our life-style and our ability, to live harmoniously and work effectively in companionship, and we are also faced with nagging doubts about.the apostolic value of what we are doing in,our schools. Our experience is.not uriique. In addition, we Jesuits have~lSeen challenged to redefifi~ ourselves~.and our mission.in terms of the service of 8 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 faith and the promotion of justice: Can this redefinition and concommitant rededication happen without abandonment:of our commitment.to formal educatiori? I think it can. Our Jesuit purpose in education is a logical extension of our stewardship and justice responsibilities.~And the same is true for many other religious. Formal education's interests are coextensive with the entire range of positive possibilities for human development. That is why religious communities choose formal education for their members, and choose to offer formal education to others. Higher education touches that ra.nge" of positive possibilities in a priv-ileged way. Wisdom is areal possibility at the stage of human development associated with higher education. At this level it is the privilege of educa-tors to group themselves into communities of inquiry which may become or beget wisdom communities,. The religious purpose in higher education is to move the minds and hearts of developing persons. The direction of this movement is Godward. The norm is truth. The outcome, it is to be hoped, is wisdom. And wisdom, we would all agree, is a gift from God. As the religious is a faith-committed person, so religious education is intended to be faith-commjttedactivity. If, as faith directs, everything depends on God, then wisdom would suggest that every'thing must be entrusted to God. If such wisdom is present with us at the beginning of religiously sponsored education, it may well be expected to reside with our students at the end of the edpcati0nal experi-ence. Any religious experience involves a search for God's will. This search, in the vocabulary of spirituality, goes b.y the name of discernment. And discernment, as we all know, is a wisdom characteristic. As any Jesuit knows, the Igna.tian way of discernment cannot be learned, from books. It can only be exp,grienced under the direction of a sensitive gpide. Hence, a special task, a privileged opportunity for Jesuits in higher education is to offer the e,xperience' of The Spiritual Exercises to those in .the learning community who want to grow spiritually. In the context o'f the Exercises, as in the classroom, learning should be directed by a motivator-organizer and assimilated by an active participant in the process. As a classroom educator or spiritual guide, the Jesuit, as an instrument of God's grace, is expected to assist the Spirit in moving the minds and hearts of those who want to grow. -' In the domain of higher education, there are many with the potential for wisdom. That is why Jesuits gather there to work. Their task is not only to teach and search for truth in all its forms, but also to share their founder's special grace with those who want to grow the Ignatian way. The Ignatian way toward wisdom is part of the heritage, the endowment over which every Jesuit exercises a stew~irdship responsibility. His antecedent respon-sibility; of course, is to have internalized the Ignatian way. His educational methods :will; not surprisingly, reflect it. Normally, his desire will be to live and work in companionship with others who are familiar with the Ignatian Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education way. And the Jesuit's hope, wherever he works, will be to share this way Or see it shared with others. That is responsible stewardship. It is also part of the Jesuit purpose in education. Parallel purposes, hopes and apostolic approaches characterize the work of other religious who are educators. There is much of a practical nature that (ould be said of education-for-justice efforts now underway in Catholic educational institutions. A lot of experience is accumulating. Rather than listing courses, projects and field experiences of demonstrated value, I would prefer to mention only one program that is designed to assist all educators in addressing the world hunger issue. Atthe 1974 World Food Conference in Rome, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger pledged the cooperation of the United States to work with other nations so that "within a decade no child will go to bed hungry" anywhere in the world. In hopes of facilitating contributions from educational institu-tions toward this goal, Bread for the World Educational Fund launched in 1976 a Decade of Commitment on World Hunger (DCWH). The program is designed for institutions of higher education. It provides conference oppor-tunities for administrators, faculty, campus ministers, career guidance counselors and students to share ways of placing and keeping hunger on the academic agenda. Emphasis is placed on four areas within which colleges ~:an deal with the hunger issue: curriculum, research, campus ministry and career choices made by students ("In the face of the world hunger problem, what are.you going to do with your life?").?~ Som~ of.the best work in justice-education is happening in secondary schools. Again I refrain from listing the specifics. I would, however, like to say a word about the person of the secondary educator. To put it more pr.ecisely, I would like to repeat a great theologian's reflections on the value of the person and importance of the work of the religious who is a high school_teacher. The Jesuit secondary educator is the man John Courtney Murray, de-scribed with admiration and affection as "The Schoolmaster." He spoke of the schoolmaster as the grammarian, the person who is knowledgeable in the elements of his subject, whose knowledge is, in this sense, elementary but certainly not superficial. The schoolmaster is devoted to the communi-cation of these elements as a lifetime work. Being a schoolmaster, said Fr. Murray to a Jesuit audience at Woodstock in 1961, is '~being on the growing edge of things, beca.use the growing edge is youth." "We are supposed to be Jesuit ministers of growth," he added, "'ad profectum animarum." "We are supposed to be men of tomorrow. One of "~The Educational Fund, which can also provide worship aids and high school course-materials on hunger, is a separate corporation closely related to the Christian citi~.ens lobby known simply as Bread for the World (207 East 16th Street, New York City 10003). Membership in Bread for the World (annual dues $10) will keep one informed, by means of a monthly newsletter and background papers, about the hunger issue. "10 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 our earliest undertakings was to become schoolmasters, schoolmen. Doc-trina exacta et solida is first the tradition of the Church; it is also the tradition of reason. We are committed to an intellectual apostolate--a min-istry of and io intelligence." The schoolmaster imparts the skills and guides the maturation process. The more fully the religious schoolmaster or schoolmistress has assimilated the basic elements of his or her religious, heritage, the more valuable is he or she as a role model in the 'midst of the young. The classroom teacher's task is largely one of method and motivation; the object is to move both minds and hearts. Inevitably, the response the teacher stimulates will be a response to himself or herself. This is a privileged relationship. If the sct~oolmaster (or the scholar, for that matter) is a person of justice, a sense of justice will be communicated to the students. If the institution-alized set of arrangements known as a school embodies in its procedures relationships of justice, then those who teach and learn there will, in vary-ing degrees, embody in themselves the principles of justice. The religious schoolmaster has, of course, a life outside the classroom. There are pastoral opportunities and citizenship responsibilities. The apostolic base, the school, can and should.be a place from which the religious reaches out to the Christian and civic communities for the service of faith and promotion.of justice. That outreach will, it might be expected, involve both witness and advocacy roles in 'the cause of justice as an expression of faith. Education for justice is a challenge we religious are capable of meeting. We should have no doubt about that. Whether we will. meet it or not is another matter. But we can, if we choose. The educational outcomes, the results of our efforts to educate for justice, depend on powers beyond our own. There is no reason to believe that the Lord will not raise up men and women of justice in our midst and in our times. I recognize that there is no bne method known now to be the most effective in educating for justice. The argument over method goes back to the Aristotelian notion that the one who does justice will come to under-stand justice; and back as well to Plato's view that the one who first understands justice will then act justly. In this important matter of educat-ing for justice, we Catholic educators have a laboratory system in our American schools and colleges. We can try different methods in different situations and compare results. The findings of our experiments in educa-tion for justice can be shared with other educators in other systems. We can make a difference here. As we do it our way, in the intellectual-educational mode, unjust, ex-pioitative, discriminatory and oppressive situations will remain in our world. But in direct proportion to our success in educating fqr justice, future world situations will have a reduced share of injustice. It is a Chris-tian characteristic not to give up on the future. Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education / 11 Father BenWren, a New Orleans Province Jesuit whose scholarly inter-ests include Eastern mysticism, tells me that there is a Chinese saying to0the effect that one who is concerned with planning for a year should plant rice; the person interested in planning for a decade should plant trees. But one who wants to plan for a century will surely want to educate people. There.is a religious purpose in education. That purpose is consistent, for example, with our contemporary Jesuit focus on the service of faith and the specification of that service in the promotion ofjustice. The activist impulse suggested by the word promotion is quite congenial with our purpose and style of education. Through education; we can touch both trays on the scalEs of justice. When we work with the advantaged, we should have the disadvantaged in mind. We can challenge ourselves and all others who occupy the down tray to dedicate ourselves in conscience to making life livable for the poorest of the poor. When we work directly with the e~onom-ically disadvantaged, we can assist them in developing the competencies that can help them move toward a better life. The earliest Jesuit schools were free. But never, so far as I can deter-mine, were Jesuit schools exclusively for the poor or exclusively for the rich. Today, we are with the rich,much more than we are with the poor in our educational work. Who can say that we cannot somehow, somewhere in the decades ahead bring our educational energies into more direct contact with the poor? Who can say that we will not, in the meantime, find new and effective ways of bringing the "haves" with wtiom we work to an accept~ ance of their obligations injustice toward the "have nots"? And who woul~l want to take responsibility for disengaging ourselves from the apostolate that makes either option possible? That last question, in my view, highlights the importance of personal and community life-style for those who work in the educational apostolate. We religious in America are perfectly capable of going soft. We can indeed insulate and isolate ourselves from the condition of the disadvantaged masses. We are capable of-violating our stewardship. If that should happen, justice will not be served and the religious purpose in education will have lost its salt. In The American Mind (Yale, 1950), Henry Steele Commager remarks that for Willa Cather, the past was significant for its moral qualities. Her long literary life was, according to Commager, an elaborate remembrance of things past--the past of the pioneers who had built the West, of the immigrants who had carried with them into the New World their sense of beauty and art, of those earlier spiritual pathfinders, the Franciscans and Jesuits, who had served their fellowmen and their God so selflessly. And all her novels and stories., were animated by a single great theme as they w.ere graced by a single felicitous style, the theme was that of the supremacy of moral and spiritual over material values, the ever recurrent but inexhaustible theme of gaining the whole world and losing one's soul (p. 150). Dealing, as she did, with the frontier as the setting for many of her 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 stories, Miss Cather apparently found inspiration in the frontier idea and saw it as a setting for clarification, and dramatization of moral issues. Hence, as Commager points out, the passing of the pioneer generation meant, to Miss Cather, the passing of all the old virtues, "and she was incapable of believing that there could be different virtues in a civilization whose standards were those of the countinghouse, whose habits were predatory, and whose rewards were social and ostentatious rather than spiritual and private" (p. 154). Commager cites a tribute to Nebraska writ-ten by Willa Cather in the early 1920's: We must face the fact that the splendid story of the pioneers is finished and that no new story worthy to take its place has yet begun . The generation now in the driver's seat hates to make anything, wants to live and die in an automobile, scudding past those acres where the old man used to follow the corn rows up and down. They want to buy everything ready-made: clothes, food., education, music, pleasure; Will the third generation--the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill--be fooled? Will it believe that to live easily is to live happily.'? (p. 154). Two generations have passed since those words were written. Religious at work in Nebraska and elsewhere in America are prepared to admit that many of us in many different driver's seats have been fooled. Regrettably, some of us, by witness and word, have foolishly encouraged others to believe that to live easily is to live happily. The "new story" thatoWilla Cather was looking for in Nebraska,can be written anywhere in America by contemporary religious educators, if they choose to. I suspect that "the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill" are not now being fooled; they recognize that if we want to live happily, we will want to do what we can to make life livable for the poorest of the poor. Schools alone cannot do it and they certainly cannot do it right away. But without the schools, it will not be done at all:. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley lectures in New Testament Studies at Ushaw College, the Senior Seminary for the Northern Dioceses of Eng_l, and. He lives in the Salesian community attached to Ushaw College; Durham DH7 9RH; England. His last article, "'Jesus, Poverty and the Kingdom," appeared in the July, 1977 issue. Your vow to remain unmarried for the sake of God's kingdom will draw you into the loneliness of the cross of Jesus and reveal the basic loneliness of every man.1 In his,book The Calvary Christ Gerald O'Collins writes: "Too often a cloud of stale words covers Calvary. Theologians and exegetes can use a language remote from anything we feel. Conventional-religious art asks for our conventional reaction. Tendencies .towards evasion in all of us allow this art to continue and the dull language to grind on. We accept the old fo.rmulas, the familiar crucifixes and the ponderous pronouncements of scholars with a mixture of loyalty and mystification. We need to find and fashi6n ways of reflecting on the crucifixion which can let it speak to us again with. new power.'' How far this statement mirrors our feelings and experience, each indi-viduai must judge. I should like to suggest that one way of reflecting on the crucifixion which can indeed let it speak to us again with new power is to tRulefor a New Brother (London; Darton, Longman & Todd, 1973), p. 16. 2G. O'Collins, The Calvary Christ (London, SCM, 1977), p. ix. 13 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38,~ 1979/1 take one evangelist's presentation of the passion of Jesus, to meditate on it, and to allow its impact to challenge our lives. For each of the evangelists narrates the story in his own way, with his own particular emphases, highlighting different aspects of the drama, f~cusing different facets of the person of Jesus,.communicating his own theological vision and understand-ing of the significance of the event. Unfortunately, the originality of each approach is often blurred, and the sharpness blunted by the comfortably generalized picture which most of us have. In this article I shall concentrate on one of the motifs which dominates the passion according to Mark, namely the loneliness of Jesus.3 It is this which constitutes his greatest suffering, far more than any physical pain. In fact, Mark, as indeed the other three evangelists, evinces little interest in the physical torments of the Master, laying little stress upon them. Mark's Gospel has been called a passion narrative with a long introduction. This reminds us to view the passion within the framework of the whole Gospel; consequently, in our consideration of some of the elements of the narrative, it will be necessary to refer back to earlier sections of the Gospel. The earliest passion narratives probably began with the arrest scene. "Suddenly, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, appeared, and with him was a crowd armed with swords and ~cudgels; sent by the chief priests, lawyers and elders." The man responsi.ble .for the success of the arrest is not one of those whose constant opposition had dogged Jesus' tracks, but "one of the twelve," one of his friends. Our minds flash back to an earlier scene in which Jesus "then went up into the hill country and called the men he wanted: and they went and joined him. He appointed twelve to be with him, to be sent out to proclaim the gospel, with a commis-sion to drive out devils. So he appointed the twelve .-." (3,13-16). Discipleship is primarily a personal call to the intimacy of friendship, a being "singled out" in order to "be with." It is one of these chosen ones who had shared his fellowship who is the traitor; and the sign of his treach, ery is the normal sign of respect and friendship: "When he reached the spot, he stepped forward at once and said to Jesus, 'Rabbi,' and kissed him. Then they seized him and held him fast." The verb Mark uses here means a particularly ~iffectionate kiss, a firm embrace. After a futile act of token resist~ince which served only to emphasize Jesus' defenselessness, "they deserted him and fled, every one of them," including the~youthful follower who narrowly evaded capture. , Mark recounts this Scene with a laconic matter-of-factness that is chill-ingly disconcerting. Earlier that evening, as they walked together from the supper room to the garden, Jesus had predicted their flight: "You will all fall from .your faith; for it stands written: 'I will strike the shepherd down and the sheep will be scattered.'" And Peter, not untypically, had insisted that he would die even, rather than disown Jesus. "And they all said the same" 3cf. Hendrickx, The Passian Narratives (Manila, East Asian Pastoral Institute, 1977). Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation / 15 (14, 26-31). Yet they were not Slow to seek their own safety and leave Jesus to face his fate alone. This flight and abandonment, the memory of which haunted the early Christians, was in fact the culmination of that failure on the part of the disciples both to understand and to accept the messiahship of Jesus which Mark traces throughout this Gospel, especially after Caesarea Philippi in Chapter Eight. On that occasion, in answer to Jesus' questioning concerning people's opinions about him~ and his further probing as to the views of the disciples, Peter, as their spokesman, professed Jesus' messiahship. Jesus responded by speaking openly about his passion for the first time, which provoked a bewildered attempt to dissuade him. At this time Jesus rebuked Peter in ~strong terms for his thinking as men think rather than as God thinks, and proceeded to outline the nature of discipleship: "~nyone who wishes to be a follower of mine must leave self behind, he must take up his cross and come with me" (8,34). A little later in the narrative, as they journeyed through Galilee, Jesus again spoke of his passion, "but they did not understand what he said and were afraid to ask" (9,32). And on their way they argued about seniority and importance and greatness. Jesus predicted his passion for the third, time on the road going up to Jerusalem in terms which were unmistakably clear. The failure of the disciples to understand is illustrated by the next incident, in which the two sons of Zebedee made a bid for the top jobs in the Kingdom. The rest were naturally indignant about this, a row broke, out, and Jesus, in patient frustra-tion, attempted to open their minds to the nature of his messiahship and of his kingdom, and to the real meaning of discipleship in terms of service (10,44-45). It is this inability or unwillingness to grasp and to accept what messiah-ship meant for Jesus when this proved to be different from what the twelve were expecting and hopiag for; this inability or unwillingness to embrace in vision and in lifestyle the kind of discipleship such a messiah demanded, which expressed itself so decisively in their garden choice not to be "with him," to care for their own safety (8,35), to forsake him and flee. The next scene in the passion drama, comprises Jesus' trial before the Sanhedrin and the denials of Peter; the~e two incidents are closely inter-locked in Mark's account. '~Then they led Jesus away to the High Priest's. house, where the chief priests, elders and doctors of the law were all assembling." Already Mark has clearly designated the Jewish leaders as the ones responsible for Jesus' arrest (14,43), and he indicates each section that made up the San.hedrin, the supreme religious and legislative body. For Mark, these are his real enemies. From the early stages of the public ¯ ministry they have consistently opposed him. In Chapter Two, when the paralytic is brought to Jesus, the doctors of the law consider his talk about 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 forgiving sins quite blasphemous, and Jesus vainly attempts to open their eyes as he cures the poor man. A little while la.ter, after the call of Levi, when Jesus is at table with tax-gatherers and sinners, the Pharisees com-plain~ to his disciples about the types he"mixes with; Jesus, on hearing this, retorts, not without a touch of irony: "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick; I did not come to invite virtuous people, but sinners" (2,17). Mark now records the Pharisees' criticism of the disciples for plucking corn on the Sabbath, a complaint which stung Jesus to challenge their basic tenets in enunciating the principle that people mattered more than sabbath regulations. This incident is followed by an episode which underlines the mounting hostility, the failure of Jesus to win acceptance of the religious ~lite. It is a sabbath and Jesus goes to the synagogue, where there is a man with a withered arm. "And they were watching to see whether Jesus would cure him on the sabbath, so that they could bring a charge against him." Aware of their malicious intentions, Jesus tries to draw them, to make them aware of the perversion of religion, the distortion of the image of God, that adherence to legalistic casuistry entailed. He encountered an obstinate and ominous silence, saddening and frustrating. "But the Pharisees, on leaving the synagogue, began plotting against him with the partisans of Herod to see how they could make away with hirh." Thereafter Jesus is obliged to live and to work under the shadow of this threat. The rift widens as the ministry continues, and eventually, as the conflict approaches its climax, Jesus takes the game into their own court, openly challenging them by expelling the money-lenders and merchants from the temple .precincts. On hearing of this, the chief priests and doctors of the Law "sought some means of making away with him, for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching" (11,18). Not long afterwards Jesus spoke that indictment-parable of the wicked husbandmen. The inevitable result was that -they began to look for a way to arrest him, for they saw that the parable was aimed at them; but they were afraid of the people, so they left him alone and went away" (12,12). As that fateful final week progresses we hear of the attempts by the Phari-sees and Herod's party to entrap him in regard to the Caesar tribute (12,13), and by the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection (12,18-27); and we hear Jesus word-lash the doctors of the Law (12,38-40). And so, finally, as the Passover feast approaches, "the chief priests and doctors of the Law were trying to devise some cunning plan to seize him and put him to death" (14,1). Now these men have Jesus in their power at last. From the commence-ment of the so-called trial or enquiry, their intentions are firm and limpid; with cynical singlemindedness "they sought testimony against Jesus to put .him to death" (14,.56). Mark paints the scene in a few, bold, vivid strokes: the balking incompetence of the false witnesses; the silent, dignified, isolated figure of Jesus; his foes bent unanimously on his destruction. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Swiftly the evangelist brings the matter to a head, as the high priest asks Jesus whether he is in fact the Christ. At Jesus' open affirmation, the high priest, with an elaborate dlsplay of passionate horror, accuses him of blas-phemy; and the gathering ends as planned: "they all condemned him as deserving death' '--again Mark emphasizes the unanimity of the opposition, and the utter aloneness of Jesus. Whilst, in an atmosphe.re of frenzied hate and delighted success, Jesus is beaten and mockbd and humiliated, Mark shifts our attention to the courtyard where Peter stands by the fire warming himself in the chill night air. We are familiar with the painful description of Peter's triple denial of the Master. Mark skiifully orders them in a crescendo pattern so that the third denial is the most intense, accompanied by curses and a solemn oath. Some scholars suggest that Peter, still under fire in spite of his first two denials, resorts to the strongest possible manner of dissociating himself from Jesus by actually cursing him; this is the force to be given to that staggering disavowal: "I do not know this man you speak of"--an even more emphatic restatement of his earlier rejection of Jesus' messianic way at Caesarea Philippi. Peter, singled out to be with him, decisively opts in public not to be with him. Mark heightens the effect of this by juxtaposing the incident with the trial .scene: Jesus, true to himself and his mission, affirms what he cannot deny, his messiahship; and he is rejected by the religious leaders of his own people and by his closest follower. Alone and in chains, he is led away and handed over to pagan power (15,1). The rejection and isolation of Jesus is further accentuated in the subse-quent scene when the ordinary people shout for his death. The fickleness of crowds, the fragility of public opinion, is a commonly recognized phe-nomenon. From the statements of the Pharisees cited earlier, it would seem that Jesus continued to enjoy a considerable amount of popularity with the masses. Yet their acclaim was always suspect. Quite early in the Gospel, Mark describes the wave of enthusiasm and excitement sparked by Jesus' miracles and teaching; the people flocked to him with their sick, and hung on his words. But their response went little deeper. For the most part, they misunderstood the nature of his kingdom, the,genre of his peculiar messia-nism. They were not won to faith; they were prone to disappointment and disillusionment, with the resentful antagonism that this engenders. Now, when Pilate in a desperate effort to release him, offered the mob the option of choosing "Jesus Barabbas," as he was probably called, a freedom fighter convicted of murder, or Jesus of Nazareth, the crowd, incited by the chief priests, clamored for the insurrectionist, and screamed for Jesus to be committed to the hideous torture-death of crucifixion. We should not allow our familiarity with the story to dull our sensitivity to the poignant pain of that scene, the dreadful irony as the nation whose whole history pointed to this moment, the nation chosen out of all peoples on the face of the earth to be God's own people (Dt 7,6ff.), disowned their 11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 Emmanuel. Jesus stands there in the open, alone, the impassioned cries of the people that was his people ringing in his ears, as they chant his rejection. His bitter desolation is intensified by a sense of injustice. Even Pilate was convinced of his innocence: "Why, what harm has he done?" Thus he is abandoned tothe Roman soldiery. In his economic description of the crucifixion and death of Jesus, Mark emphasizes the solitude of Jesus by mentioning details which, because of our acquaintance with the versions of Luke and John, we are apt to over-look. After the passers-by had hurled abuse at him and mocked him in his helpless anguish, and the lawyers had jested and gibed, "even those who were crucified with him taunted him" (15,32). At the end the robbers, too, renounce his companionship; Jesus does not belong even with his fellow-sufferers. Similarly, it is only after the death of Jesus that mention is made of the women who had followed him from Galilee, and who "were watching from a distance" (15,40). At the foot of the cross there is no mother, no beloved disciple; Jesus died utterly alone. The searing anguish of his pain and loneliness arid failure is focused and captured in the loud cry from the cross: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But he died "without a word or a wink from God to reassure him that, whatever the gawking crowd might think, he knew that Jesus was not only innocent, but valid where it mattered.''4 Jesus' sense of total rejection by men is compounded and intensified by his feeling abandoned by the Father,.by his experience of estrangement and alienation that be-longs to our sinfulness. The psalm that Jesus is citing is a psalm of uncon-ditional trust in God's love and ultimate vindication. The last words of Jesus are a radical expresSion of his loneliness, and a "radical expression of a devotion to God which endures in every adverse experience--a devotion which continues to claim God as 'my' God and will not let him go although he can be experienced only as the absent One who has'forsaken the peti-tioner.''~ It is this surrender in love and trust that is our window into the mystery of his personality, for it is the human expression of what.we have come to call divine sonship; it is this surrender in the brokenness of death which, like the buried grain, is the source of our life.6 It is, I believe, true that Mark's way of presenting the passion of Jesus can allow it to "speak to us again with new power," speak to us with hope and with challenge in the center of our experience. All of us know at first hand the meaning of loneliness. I still vividly remember my feelings of desolate helplessness on the occasion of my first day at school as mother walked out of the playground beyond the iron fence. Or years later, when, having spent three years in enclosed quasi-monastic surroundings, I went to sit my finals in London, sporting a large 4L. E. Keck, A Future for the Historical Jesus (London, SCM, 1972), p. 229. ~E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark (London, SPCK, 1971), p. 353. ncf. my article "Trust--the Life-Attitude of Jesus" in Doctrine and Life, Nov. "76, pp. 803 ft. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Roman collar at twenty-one; everything and everyone seemed to be telling me that I did not belong~°I recall also the numbing sense'of lostness that came over me as' the train hissed noisily to a halt in Wigan station the evening 'my father died. Loneliness has many forms: the jarring sadness of bereavement, the corrosive listlessness of loss and separation, the anguished alienation and shame.of guilt and sin, thedisappointment of failure, the isolation of intense physigal suffering or imprisonment; the d(structive discouragement and paralysis of non-acceptance and rejection, the pain of misunderstanding and estrangement, the gnawing emptiness of unfulfilled longing for intimacy and genuine cbmpanionship, the absence of~God. Loneliness is thic.kly woven into the fabric of our lives, it.is a facet of our human poverty, our poverty of being. But Mark assures us that it is an aspect of being human that Jesus-fully shared throughout his ministry and especially in hi~ final hours. Most of us are anxious to avoid pain, physical pain; our medical and pharmaceutical experts have mercifully developed many varieties of anal-gesic. Most of us, likewise, sedulously attempt to avoid the pain of loneli-ness; and our society has developed a wide range of would-be anaesthetics--from discos to little dog~--to soften the abrasive harshness of our experience. I, for one, am very grateful for the refuge and comfort afforded by the telephone! And yet I wonder whether Mark is challenging us as disciples of Jesus to Cope with our loneliness m. ore creatively. Whilst recognizing with thanks the extent to which he made the experience of loneliness his own, perhaps we are reluctant to recognize that he did what most of us, most of the time, seek to .shun. In spite of gripping fear and instinctive repugnance, he did not run away from it; and his steadfastness transformed it into a life-giving element of redemption. Perhaps it is here that Mark is speaking to us again with new power; perhaps the challenge for disciples of Jesus consists in transforming the pain of loneliness into a source of personal growth and of life for others. It is very important that instead of taking one of the numerous escape roads open to us, we learn to come to terms with our loneliness and listen to our own feelings and struggles, our aspirations and questions, and live themacceptingly. It is here in the unique my.stery'of our personal selfhood, in the depths of our being, that we must have the courage to allow God to find us. It is here that his call is to be heard: "Do not be afraid, for I am with you . " So often God seems absent for the simple reason that we are fearfully evading his loving presence. Loneliness is paradoxically a poten-tial source of enrichment, for it can teach us the meaning of poverty of spirit, which opens us to the gift of God's kingly rule through the Spirit poured into our hearts, that surrender in loving and trusting obedience which is the hallmark of the Master.7 rI'his is developed by Henri J. M. Nouwen, Reaching Out (London, Collins, 1976), pp. 25-101. 90 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 In learning to come to terms with our loneliness, we may learn like Jesus, to love more genuinely, more compassionately. Our going out to others will be legs oriented to answering our own needs for companionship and fulfillment, and will become an expression of authentic service which can liberate and heal and enliven. At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked Peter and the other eleven: ~' And you, who do you say I am?" He reiterates this question to each Christian daily. Peter was able to acknowledge J~esus as Messiah, but his response was inadequate, it did not involve a willingness to follow in his way; he jibbed at the implications of discipleship. Loneliness, failure, misunderstanding, rejection are always painful, very painful, and are a constant in our human experience; a constant, however, shot through with hope because of the paschal mystery of Christ. Our answer as disciples to the challenging ques-tion of Jesus must be expressed in our willingness to take up this cross and go "with him." A Lamb Looks Through the Fence (Where the grass appears to be greener) The grass is greener on the other side: At least, it seems that way. Shepherd, give me a heart content To praise, to server to stay. This is the pasture of Your choice, And lessons here await: Calm the longings of my heart And bid the storms abate. For fences also keep us safe, Hedged in with loving care, Provided for and protected from The lion and the bear. Teach me to trust--this humble prayer Removes the restless yen: Some day we'll see from a higher view How green our side has been. Vi~la Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities Leonard J. Crowley Leonard J. Crowley, Titular Bishop of Mons in Numedia, is Auxiliary Bishop of Montreal. He is Director Of the Office for English Language Affairs in the archdiocese; 2000 Sherbrooke St. West; Montreal, Que. H3H IG4; Canada. n the very fitting context of the Feast of Pentecost last year, two Roman Congregations (The Congregation for Bishops and the Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes) promulgated a very significant docu-ment on Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Reli-gious in the Church. The statement is significant, for its very existence admits that there is room for growth in understanding between the episcopal office and religious communities. For far too long within the Church's often turbulent history there has been too little fruitful communication between the overseers of the faith and those specialists who have a particular and time-honored gift to share with the faithful. Th~ warning of John Cassian to his monks in the fourth century seems, even today, to express a deep-seated mistrust: "The two groups you must avoid at all times are women and the bishops." The Diocesan/Religious Rivalry This basic antipathy often shows itself as well in the ranks of those from whom the residential bishop is normally chosen in North America--the diocesan clergy. What some may naively call a healthy rivalry between religious and diocesan groups is often~ at root, a basic distrust of one another's real motives and abilities in the exercise of the apostolate. 21 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 This recent document addresses itself directly to this sorry condition where it exhorts that "efforts should be made to renew the bonds of fratero nity and cooperation between the diocesan clergy and communities of religious." It even suggests the context of "simple and informal" gather-ings "which serve to increase mutual trust, apostolic solidarity, and fra-ternal harmony" (37). The duty for seeing to it that such fraternal gattierings take place and grow in significance and depth is placed squarely, as it should be, on the shoulders of the bishop. Furthermore, it is the duty of the bishop to so blend the services of diocesan and religious groups that each recognize members of outstanding talent and together support their promotion to positions of service commensurate with their capabilities; for "the bishop should . . . exhort the diocesan priests to recognize gratefully the fruitful contribution made by religious to their Church and to approve willingly their nomination to positions of greater responsibility which are consbnant with their vocation and competency" (55). In basic fact, if we truly are to witness to the mystery of the Lord Jesus in our midst, then there should be no rivalry but only harmony in the service we render. The bishop and his diocesan assistants should rejoice in the presence of specialists who bring a particular talent to minister ina certain area to the People of God. In such a context, "bishops, along with their clergy, should be convinced advo-cates of the consecrated life, defenders of religious communities, promoters of vocations, firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in ihe apostolic field" (28). As a matter of fact, it is the bishop's "specific office to defend consecrated life, to foster and animate the fidelity and authenticity of religious and .~o, help them become part of the communion and of the evangelizing action of his church, acc.ording to their distinctive nature" (52). ~ Difficulties of Identification But herein lies the crux of the problem. Many a bishop would be hard pressed to identify the "distinctive nature" of the religious groups en-trusted to his watchful overseeing. In many instances there seems to have ¯ been a loss of clear identity on the part of religious communities. The bishop i~ fully aware, in most instances, that "the very nature of apostolic action requires that [he] give precedence to interior recollection and to the life of prayer;" but he is also frustrated by the realization that some religious apparently have not taken to heart the realization that they must, "in conformity with their distinctive nature, renew themselves in depth and be assiduous in prayer" (23a). What a bishop must be seeking from religious who reside in or enter his diocese is a specific dedication and consecration to a form of spirituality and to an apostolic witness that is as clear and as vital as it was when the Ruleo that embodies that life was first written. The bishop must be concerned with the future of his flock; but he wants that future founded solidly in the values that have come out of the past. Therefore he must be in search of"religious Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities [who], even while showing a particular spirit of enterprise and foresight for the future, [are] intensely loyal to the intention and spirit of their insti-tute." (34). However, the simple fact appears to be that many religious groups have maintained a loyalty to their institute but have lost sight of both its intention and its spirit. The Second, Vatican Council has urged. The Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life to begin with a sincere return to the spirit and the mind of the Founder and from that unique font to build anew a personal and communal zeal for the spread of the Gospel, in all its richness. It is obvious that many, if not all, religious communities have adapted themselves, their customs, their habits, to the contemporary condition--not without a great deal of soul-searching, painful compromise, and interminable meetings. But adaptation was the easier half of the challenge and directive laid down by Perfectae Caritatis. How many communities have gone on to embrace a radical renewal of their original spirit? For it is in the light of that question that one can honestly ask about the future relevance of religious life. Ignorance of Specific Spirit In many instances, individual religious find it all but impossible to dis-tinguish the uniqueness of their charism from that of other religious commu-nities. Beyond a loyal chauvinism for their own institute, many admit that their vision, their mission, their methodology is essentially the same as evi~ryone else's. The historical reasons that called: the original foundation into existence often are gone now, the needs alleviated, the witness fulfi!led, the expectations satisfied. The more specific the historical reason for the foundation, the more difficult becomes the task of pinpointing its relevance now in the latter part of the twentieth century. This quandary has caused much frustration on the part of dedicated and deeply concerned men and women who recognize the values of their traditions, see a need for apostolic zeal within the mission of the Church, but find it difficult to wed the two into an effective and realistic union within the contemporary con-text. What has happened in the minds of many young religious is to say, "Forget the past. Deal with the present and prepare for the future." But such an outlook definitely isolates one frbmthe ~rich traditions that give reason for the continuing existence of the particular institute. It truly ap-pears that too many religious today are ignorant of the spirit that enkindled the foundation of their community. They may know its historical back-ground; but they have done little to identify with .the charismatic zeal that gives them a uniqueness and an individuality so necessary in building up the full experience that is Church. For there appears today to be little difference between one religious community and another except in terms of an accident of history or geography. Beyond the clear distinctions offered by the stric~tly contemplative and monastic communities, religious orders and societies seem to have Ihid aside those distinctions that called them into 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 existence. Many individuals apparently responded to a vocational urging as personified in a particular individual: a teacher, a pastor, a chaplain, a family friend. The specific community to which that individual belonged meant little, except that it was the obvious context within which the indi-vidual was to pursue his vocation if he intended to follow the lead of his childhood hero. Thus many young men have gone in pursuit of the priest-hood, not as a diocesan priest or as a member of a religious community, but as a priest like Father Racine, or Father Joe, or Father O'Brien. Many young ladies simply continued their religious quest in the same context as the academy or the convent school to which they were sent by parents desirous of the best education possible for their offspring and knowing that the "good sisters" would provide just that. Symbol of Identity Of course, as the individual comes to identify with the community to which he has gone, to learn of its traditions and history during his years of postulancy and novitiate, he doubtless grows in love for and identification with the order or the congregation. That identity used to be symbolized .very powerfully in the reception of the religious habit. More than anything else, the habit had been the external symbol of an internal commitment. For many communities of religious women, the bishop was called upon to participate in this very important step in identification with the spirit of the Founder and the vision of the order. But, for many communities today, the habit stands as a symbol of the past. And the search for a clear, contempo-rary sign of identification whereby new members might feel a sense of oneness with the community has been a very frustrating one. Yet, in the beginning, it was not the habit that gave identity; it was the spirit and zeal of the Founder, as these drives inspired the community, giving a clear sense of purpose and single-mindedness to all who embraced the Holy Rule. It is that spirit which must be renewed in religious communities today if the symbols of religious life are to have any role to fulfill within the Church. The Problem of Stability Because many religious communities have been established for the ministry of the Universal Church and not for the local church alone, many within a diocese, often the bishop himself, tend to resent the fluidity of a religious community's commitment to a particular apostolic endeavor. For such persons, whose commitment to the local church is total, there is a very deep-seated hesitancy to entrust the fulfillment of a ministry to a group whose commitment often seems to be as long as its superior's vision is far-reaching. Such an anxiety seems natural and even fortified by the gospel parable about the hireling and the good shepherd. However, what many, whose commitment to the local church is so intense, fail to recognize or to acknowledge is that the purpose of religious exemption is "so that institutes Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities carl express their identity more adequately and devote themselves~to ,the common good with special generosity and on a wider scale" (22). If all who work together within the diocesan community have a proper appreciation of the exempt status as "a certain expression of that pastoral concern which unites them intimately with the Roman Pontiff for the universal care of all people," such an awareness "will promote greatly increased apostolic' ini-tiative and missionary zeal in every particular church" (22). ' Of course, every religious community that comes to ~erve the local church, even if it does beloia~ to an institute of pontifical right, "should feel themselves truly a part of the diocesan family" (18b). Therefore their com-mitment should be as deep find their solicitude as pervasive as every other apostolic witness within thediocese. However, in those situations where an institution finds itself "unable to carry on a given undertaking, its superiors should, in good time andwith~confidence; make known the factors hinder-ing its continuance at least in its actual form, especially if this lack is due to personnel. For~his part, ti~e local ordinary should consider sympatheti-cally the re~luest to withdraw from the undertaking and in common accord with the superiors seek a suitable solu'tion" (47). in other words, every local Church must always see itself as a vital organ of the universal People of God under the guidance of the Holy F~ther. None of us can afford to allow our apostolic vision to become so myopic as to blind us to the needs beyond our own backyard. Bishops~ especially, must realize that the zealous service of religious in his pastoral domain is always carried on'with a sense-of ministry to the Universal Church. Such a presence, then, is a blessing as it broadens the horizons of our apostolic perspective and helps us to appreciate more deeply the total concern of the Father for all his children. Thus as religious come and go within a diocese, neither the ordinary nor his diocesan assistants should resent their fluidity but shoiald see, in their willingriess to move as the Spirit calls them, a vivid reminder that we all are a pilgrim people on the move to the home that we can ohly begin to build toward in this world. The Church is larger and more loving than any of us. We must always st.rive to be of humble service to her needs and to free those who feel the ardent call to another vineyard, to another manifestation of the Spirit's solicitude in the midst of the people of God. Future Expectations Religious ~ommunities are ~:alled today to "devote themselves with full awareness and zeal to the task 0f incarnating and manife.sting in the diocese the specific witness and the genuine mission of their institute" (22). This is the value and the service that the bishops, are going to be searching for in the future, all the more so ,as they realize quite clearly that they "are entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms . [For] in this way;" by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own Review for Religious, Volume 38,~!~979/1 definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real. pastoral duty" (9c). Thus the bi~hopJs going to be in search of and solicitous for those communities that. are responding in the modem day to the needs of the Church after the spirit and .with the zeal of their founders. Quite obviously, then, "religious supe-i- iors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure'the fidelity of the members to the charism of the Founder, by fostering :the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the.times" (14c). The future of religious life will lie in the oab!ljty that each religious community has to move away from the mentali~ty of being an embattled camp; of~asse~ting, by quality of performanceoand depth of, solicitude, the recognition that "every institute exists.for the Church and must enrich her with its.~distinctive characteristics, according~to a particular spirit,and a specific mission" (14b). Eacho!n,stitute-is a shepherd, not a hireling-~.,~but only, ifoit speaks with the voice of its Founder who echoes the voice of the Good Shepherd. "The very charism of the founders appears a_s "an experi-ence of the Spirit' transmitted to their ,disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them, in harm~gny with the Body of Christ, continually in the process oLgrowth" (11). o. The future of the religious life de, pends, then, on a renewal that will be as much new as it will be re-. Besides a deep appreciation of the~historical origin and vision of one's community, each one,must se, ek innovative and creative ways w~ith which to bringthe wisdom an~t°~technology of contempo-rary society to bear upon the timeless values articulated, by the Lord Jesus and specifi.cally~ pursued within a particular religious context. The more clearly and more wholesomely we can make those value~"'li.~,e in our own day, the more relevant and essential becohaes the role we intend to.fulfillS' That is one reason why the renewal of the religio~us life remains ~such a crucial issue. However, that renewal is feasible only if each in~stitiate ,and every member is clearly aware that"it is necessary to preserve the identity of each institute so securely, that the danger of an ill-defined situation be avoide.d, le§t0religi,ous, failing to give .due consideration to the .particular mode of action proper to their character, become part of the ]if~"of the Ch.urch.in~a vague and ambiguous way" (11). ~_ Personal Reflection' As a bishop, I have been renewed by this document from the two ¯ Congregations, with a sense of the very serious responsibility that I have for the religious communities who minister to the people .I w.atgh o.ver.~I have always hoped that the religious who come into our midst would bring their special gifts and talents to' bea~- however or wherever thei.r apostolic pre~s-ence took them. Now I realize more clearlyothat, together wit.h my brother bishops, !' have a duty to help.directly and distinctly the religious commu~ nities in our midst to remain true to their founders' ideals and to fulfill ~their, specific mission in th.e w_ay that they alone °can do. In other words, 9s bishop, it is my duty to see to it that the apostolic commitment of each ~ ~ ~ ., ~ Refie~ctions.-bf a Bishop on Religigus Communities / 27 community is in keeping with and true to the spirit of their Rule. I must be available to help each religious entrusted to my pastoral care--and that includes every one in the diocese where I ministeruto be true to the specific charism of his or her community. It is my deep hope and confident prayer that religious, for their part, will serve each diocese in which they labor, not as general practitioners of gospel values (nor will: they accept ministries which would expect such an approach), but rather will share the fruits of their own foundations with the whole people of God in the particular and unique way that they are able. Admittedly such an approach demands a restructuring on the part of young and old alike. But that revamping is essential to the future flowering of the religious life and the future fulfillment of the Church. Unity Through Diversity In conclusion, the renewal of every religious community is eventually going to bring each congregation to the realization that we are all struggling toward the day when Jesus will be "'all in all," where there will be no distinct communities because the vision of every founder will finally be focused together in~ the one reality of the Lord Jesus. And there will be'no more religious communities because there will be only one religious Com-munity in the City of Goti; there will be, in the-~0rds of St.'Aug~astine, "one Christ loving himself." Yet, as we move toward that day of fulfillment, we musl move in the paradoxical fashion of human naturemfor~we move toward unity through .diversity. It is that great diversity of religious ingight and,~xp~erience which must be shared.with the Christian Community'in order that its unity might be achieved mor~ effectively and all-inclusively. In order to accomplish that objective; y,oung religious must take gr~at pride in the"tradition to which they ~ commit themselves, a pride that will make them zealous sharers, with all'God's people, of:the girls entrusted by the Spirit to their care. For ,those girls shall be, preserved only if they are generously commu-nicated to and'for the Church. And religious must learn to see in the bishop ,a source of support and solicitude, no longer the "'enemy,''-~but a loving brother, deeply concerned for their well-being and their growth. For the bishop clearly should understand that the future of religiousfife is the future life of the Church. - ~0 As the~Spirit shared the great diversity of his charisms on. that first Pentecost, magi the message that Mother Church has given to her ministers on this past Pentecost Sunday fill all of us ~4ith deep respect and concern for the building up of the girls entrusted to each of us for the life of the Church. Th, en.the grace of the Ho!y ,Spirit will fio~d fulfillment in us all as we bec~me truly one in Christ to the glory of God "the Father. From.""Ministry'' tO"Church Work" The.Fate of Tired Souls Paul Marceau, C.S.C.' " Father Marceau is a doctoral candidate in spirituality at the Graduate Theological Union, .Berkeley, CA. Presently he is on the staff of Moreau Seminary; Notre Dame, IN 46556. n the aftermath of the recen~ papal election a news commentator referred to one of Pope John Paul's distant predecessors who, after assuming the office, said that he spent so much time tending to the needs of others that he was in danger of becoming a stranger to himself. The problem of the threat of'being consumed by the demands of ministry is not a new one. Jesus himself seemed to recognize this danger and from time to,time would draw the disciples aside to rest (Mt 14:13f.). In this articl6 I~will sketch what 1 believe ~to be a particular form which that problem' takes 'in apostolic religious life today: the phenomenon of the over-burdened, under-cared-for religious who is being consumed by apostolic and community work and who, in the process, may be dying a slow and painful death as a human being, a minister, and a religious. As the life of such a person gets frag-mented by the constant demands of apostolic ministry there is a danger of losing one's personal center, and one's relationship with God becomes threatened in the process. Whenthat happens in the life of any minister in the Church I would suggest'that the apostolic activity of such an individual ceases to be "ministry" °and becomes only "church work." Most reiigious in apostolic communities have found (and continue to find) the early years of ministry an intoxicating experience. The apostolic life which they enter after their years in formation is challenging and de-manding. There seems to be so much to be done, so many needs to be 28 From ,"Ministry" to '~Church Work" attended. Within a short time the religious begins to feel needed and ap-preciated in ways that were unknown and perhaps impossible in the years of formation? There. develops a greater sense of self-worth as the person begins to do what he or she could only reflect upon or do only in a controlled and well-regulated way in the years of formation. There is a sense that one is finally fully immersed in ministry and with that comes the sense that one isat last doing something with his or her life, and not simply preparing to do so. A.new dimension of the personality develops and becomes more cen-tral: that of the hainister and apostle. The focus shifts from what ~was, in the years of fOrmation, substantially pr.eparatory, receptive, and to a large degre,e inner-directed and reflective to the active, the outward, the full immersion in ministry. The apostplate in these early years after formation makes heavy de-mands on self and time but most individuals are excited by this and would not want it to be otherwise. With the constant need and cpnstant demand of the apo.stolate, however, there come problems with the m.anagement of one's time and, ,indeed, of one's life. There is less and less time (and perhaps even desire) for leisure, for one's own concerns, for reflection upon one's life. Given the choice between the needs of others and one's "free time"0 (and there doe~ not alw.ays seem to be a choice), the religious often sacrific~es w.tlat .is the e~siest to sacrifice: personal time and space. Prior to the Changes in religious iife'which took place following Vatican I1, time for prayer and reflection was protected, at least in theory,2 by being built into~ the schedule. Such tim(for private ~'ea.ding, prayer, and refl+ction, how-ever, isnow no longer "given"; it has to be found and it seems ~ncreasingly difficult.to find it. Personal prayer and reflection gradually have come to be nudged out of the lives of many by the hectic ~nd busy pace of their apostolic.life. Indeed, there was a time in the past decade when such times aside f(om'ministry were rl.o.t only considered luxuries but were Iobked upon as 'selfish luxuries, as time stolen from the service of others in need. Perso'n~l prayer beco~n"e~, problematic, even for those with the best of intentions. Few, if any.~,fiaiike a conscious decision to give UP personal prayer; it gimply gets~ pushed out by the "more important" and more immediate concerns of Io~,e and service to others. It is a gradual process by which people's lives simply become so overwhelmed by the 9postolic and. qn the past. of course, apostolic involvement during the years of formation w~s minimal. Young religious were protected from such "outside" distractions. As a result, for people trained in such a context, immersion into full-time ministry,provided a shocking change from . their years of formation, The change is less abrupt today since significant apostolic involve-ment is seen as a critical part of formation. Nevertheless, the "full-time" ministry has a dynamic of its own which can really be experienced only in the doing of it, no matter how well one is prepared for it. zWhile time for meditation, spiritual ~'eading, examination of conscience, and so forth, may have been provided in previous schedules, there is certainly enough evidence to wonder to what extent such schedules were ac~tually honored--other than by those in formation. 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 community demands that there is simply no time "left over" for oneself., Finding time for' personal prayer becomes a terrible.struggle, the wagingof, ahopeless, losing war. For some, the loss of,,that dimension of their re-ligious life is easily justified by their appeal .to the demands of ministry; for others Such loss is--the Source of much shame and guilt.~ Foi" many, prayer has bedome a time squeezed into'fi hectic and already' cluttered day. It is ~so~ething to be fitted in between Walter Crorikite ahd'~ an evenin~g meeting, or between a dis~tressing hous~ meeting arid the celebration of the Eticharist.:These patterns of prayer-time tend to reflect their livegt prayer time itselfis'9 hectic and bdsy,°'often cluttered, time. Even when the time is fotindfor it, prayer is'filled with the concerns of 0ne's~ day. It is a time full of distractions, a very busy and unfocused time, filled~ with the hundreds of stimuli that the individual brings off ~he street with him: The time which one struggles to have alone'with God becomes a time to do a lot Of religious "business," a trine for pra~,ing for the concerns ministry, .for commending to ~he Lord all the. wounded who ha~d tbuched one's life that day. The time "aside" is really no time aside at'fill but simply a 'diffei-erit'fOi'um for doing what"one had been doing all'day long. " " For"others, the dynamic of personal prayer shiftg from "time aside" to prayer-on-the-i'un, a kind of "are you running ~vith me~, 'Jesus" format. There is sirrligly no 'time to tend to the'personal reli~gidoiums e"n °s i~o'n~ "o:f ~ o' n~e* :s~ ' life, and God is put on "hofoldr "~ n'"creas"~ °ngly lon"g ~er. "p~e ,r i.~ods of time. Not infrequently i'eligious m~ke little bargains with God, prom'ising to return to him at a latCr date when there is more time available: "I'm g?ing tO be very busy this s~'ineste~ and I reall3i won't have mucl~time for prayer ' but I'll get back t'~3ibu at Chris~tmasvacation or during the~summer when things let up a liitle." But Chrqst~n°~s o~:summer vacation corhes along, and when there ts finally t~me for prayer, such individuals find that they can no longer pray as they once d~d because they have fallen out of the habit of personal prayer. The closeness and the ~nt~macy ~s no longer there; God seems to be further away. The more personal, direct and intimat~'relationship~vith God that one might have known in quieter and mor~ peaceful ti~e~ is gone. There is a dis-ea'se about one's relationship to God, and the times alone with him are f0un'd~{o be somewhat strained and uncomfortable. The struggle to fi'nd some t~me aside does not, aftei- all, seem to' be quite worth it because thOre does not seem to be much pbint to it. " ~ Iwshort, given the difficulty of finding times for prayer,~ and the busy and hectic pace we experience,e.ven when they fire found, prayer time becomes~ more and more minimalT"and what there is becomes increasingly lesg satisfying. As a.result,, m~ore and more weight for the spiritual life comes to be put on community, or on "apostolic prayer." Liturgy and'common prayer become the focus and substance of the prayer life .of many to the exclusion of~all other forms. But with that, .there is often felt an, uncom-fortable dissonance between what one says in his~ministry and'what one' From "Ministry" ,to "Church Work" d0es.-,Thus~, although he may preach eloquently; celebrate reverently, discuss the gospel enthusiastically and be complimented and affirmed by his parishioners, students, and fellow community members as being a good priest andreligious, the spiritual dimension of apostolic and community I.ife seems to have no echO;in his ownolife: He believes the message and is sincere when he tblls others about it, but at times it seems very far frorfi what he himselffis experiencing. Neverthe!ess, sharing sacraments,and common prayer~with others is at least a lifeline for many. When there is a dis-ease and a discomfort about being too alone with oneself and with°G0d, one can often find solace in participating in the more formal, more .struc-ttired ,forms of prayer, such as the sacraments and Office, since slach f/arms allow 'one to approach God without being too alone before him. Just as p~ople must build up habits of pr.aYer with time and practice, so it is that they fall out of the habits of personal prayer. Thps, ~hen a pe,rson's life become~ overwhelmed and fragmented by a busy and hectic apostolic ministry, personal prayer becomes difficult not only because of time con-siderations but because the doing of it becomes an uns~itigfying thing. For one who has fallen out of the practice .of personal prayer, moments o~f aloneness can become very frightening, and so instead of struggling tofind such times of alonene'gs and of the oppo~:tunity to foc~us within, the religio0,s may eventually fipd h~mself strugghng to avotd focusing w~th~n for fear of seeing too deeply, with to6"~uch clarity, ~hat may be happening to his fraghaehted life. When tli~it' h~ppens, the 'i~dividual spends an enor~mous amount of time and psychic energy fleeing such moments, protecting him: self from God. P~rsons sensing this dis-ease a, bout the'Jr relationship with God may read about God, talk al~out God, may do'the works of the Church and~ma~ even°hpproach G~d. in the company of othersobut they are often unable to bear facing God' in their aloneness, to be ~ilent before him. If such.is.the fate of n.ot a few apostolic religious in the past decade (and I believe it has b, een), then the task for them, again, becomes one of the struggle t9 av.oid, such moments. The apostolate, itself a contributory cause to this state of affairs, becomes a welcome and easily legitimized.distraction from facing oneself. Religious can throw themselves into their_work and give themselves over to be consumed by the apostqlic need which, as a matter of fact, is always ~,aiting there to be cared for. But this is not the zeal of those early y~ears of their ministry; it is, in fact, just the oppqsite. The work, what one does, is now.no longer ,a way of sharing what is inside, but a way of avoiding it. Instead of zeal andenthusiasm driving one from within to sha~e what.~e .has pers.onally experienced and discovered about'life and about God,,there is flightto the work for its own sake, a flight away from the i,nterior self. ~with diminishing personal energies and resources.tq ~driye and sustain himself, he becomes willingly carried along by the demands of the apostolat~e, .and~ lifebecomes one busy apostolic distraction. When ihat .happen,s, when,a person becomes emptied inside and can live .only on'the 32 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 outside, then he is:no longer engaged in the doing of ministry but.is simply busy about doing what I would call simply "church work." The irony of all this is that a person may be, and very frequently is at this same time in life, just h!tting his professional stride, doing the kinds of things that he always wanted to do in ministry,~with all the requisite pro-fessional training, and receiving very reassuring feedback from others about his ministry--and yet the.re seems to be something terribly missing, and he cannot understand why~ He may be doing very good work, pro-fessionally satisfying, assisting others in. living their lives and yet feel that he.is not doing a very good job of living his own. He might say to himself: "I should be happy but I am not. What is the matter with me?" As one person expressed it to me: "I am good and successful at what I am doing. ! enjPy it and find satisfaction in it--but why do I feel like I am dying?" The constant concerns and needs of others (and the constaht need to be focusing outside oneself), the very things .which used to energize and sus-tain the person in the early years of ministry, now only drain energies and makes the indiviidpal feel th~it his whole life', by choice"or by abdication, is being consumed by the apostolate. The apostolate has become for him a thousand-tentacled monster, constantly making demands, never letting up, constantly draining him of diminished or even exhausted personal energies. For the weary church worker the apostolate becomes a.two-edged sword: it is a welcome distraction protectin.g him from looking too closely within and, at the same time, a drain upon his personal energies even to the point of exhaustion. There is a variation to the above theme ~f the one who allows his life to become c~onsumed by the apostolate~ in order to avoid what may be dying inside, and this variation is marked by the opposite of involvement: with-drawal. For this person the apostolate becomes an eight-hour-a-day (or less)job and he is quite capable of walking away from it in order, as he sees it, to preserve his own necessary personal time and space; Having created sixteen hours of personal time and space of the twenty-four, however, the task he faces then becomes One Of filling up his space and time so that he will dot be left alone with it. In order to defend himself from se6ing the void within, the individual will do anything to fill up that time, to be distracted. He will read novels and magazines for hours (this may be his'version of "'being alone"). He may spend evening after evening watching television without really knowing or caring what is on the screen. He may arrange a heavy social schedule.'He will do anything rather than face the emptiness and discomfort that is within him. The weary church worker's life has become overwhelmed and frag-mented by the consuming demands of today's apostolate. He may be a victim of the work but. in the end; he knows that b,~ ,.'s a willing victim. He m'ay even see himself in the role of a martyr, giving his all that the world rr]ay be saved (or at least a little'more saved). But underneath the hectic and clu~ttered life of today's church worker, there is the danger of building up F¢om "Ministry" to "Church Work" /,33 increasing levels of resentment against those whom he serves. The de-mands never let up and nobody will leave hi~n alone. He may be tired. There may be a lot of suppressed anger and resentment. But worse than either of these, as long as he seems-to be good and successful in his work, is the fact that nobody seems to care about what is dying inside him and how he feels about himself and his ministry. The problem, in fact, is that no one can see what is dying inside him. All the outward signs appear to be good. The iridividual is busy, involved, committed to the apostolate, and actually doing good work there. He is sociable and affable in community, relating well there. No one can see what is happening inside him because no one is allowed to see it. The individual may have a difficult time even bringing himself tO see it and there may be too much shame and guilt to allow anyone else to see it. All the while the person may be saying: "they (superiors, fellow religious, fellow ministers) are themselves too busy ministering to others and I cannot burden them with my problems; I know what I~feel like when one more problem comes my way and I don't want to be just one more problem for' them." There is a final, cruel irony in the situation of the apostolic religious who, by the process described above, has been turned into a busy church WorkeL There is a rehewed interest and concern for spirituality and praye~ in the Church today--and that is w~lcomed. Religious are once more con-cerned about their relationship with God. But, as often a~ not, that concern is a source of guilt rather'than a source of strength. Concern for spirituality and prayer--whether the concern is assumed or imposed~--isjust one more ~lemhnd placed upon the life oLthe already tired religious. Instead of one's i'elationship with God being the source of personal energy and an impetus to ministry, it can become just one more thing to worry about along with.all the others~ one more thing with which the religious has neither the timenor the energy to contend. Instead of being the place of rest where he no longer has to be doing and Working, his prayer becomeg just one more thing to do and to work at. Instead of his relationship with God being the source and center of life, it is thrown in with all the other things which clamor for attention in a life which has lost its center. Apostolic religious communities in America today are running the risk of producing amongtheir members merely weary church workers suffering from battle fatigue. In the long run, however, there will be a price to pay in human suffering and tragedy, as suppressed anger and resentment can be suppressed no longer and begin to surface, Often in indirect but destructive ways. Religious will retire too Soon from the battle, burnt out men and women who will no longer be driven or taken advantage of. They will unclutter their lives of hectic apostolic activity and then turn and fill them up with other more relaxing distractions; but whether busy with apostolate or busy with relaxing distractions, many will be leading lives of quiet desperation because their lives no longer have any focus or center to hold them together. Review for Religious, Volunie°38, 1979/1 There are alternatives, I think, to the way we live apostolic religious life and the way we do ministrytoday. Just ~as~we do no good for a.materialistic society if we ourselves get caught up in its materialistic ethos, likewise we do little good for a society that runs at an insane pace, fragmenting the lives of its people when we ourselves run at; that.~same pace, becoming quite as fragmented in our own lives. A different style and pace of apostolic religious life need not mean that apostolic ministry be less involx;ed, less concerned, or less whole-hearted than it is now. .~ . ~.," Finding the meaning of one's life in one's relationship to God and sustaining that relationship personally through reflection and prayermmany indeed "take time away from others" but it may also allow us to offer them something more than what had been our busy, overburdened lives. G~'ound-ing our personal lives outside of the work we do may both'free us from the apostolate and, at the same time. free us for it. We will be freed from the apostolate not in the sense that we will lose the apostOlic dimension of our life in favor of the comtemplative life but rather in'!the sense that the meaning of our lives, as individuals and as communities, would no longer be tied to this specific apostolate and this particular work. "We would be freed from the works of our own hands to pursue and minister to the needs of people wherever and whatever they may.be, On .the other hand, it may well be that we would be doing the same kinds of. things ,that we are ,doing now,. but the person doing them will be different: still busy, but less frantic, and bringing to those situations a life which is a little calmer, a little more rootedand peaceful. Our apostolic ministry might be less cluttered but, at the same time, more deeply involved; we might be less frenzied, but also more zealous about the things we do. Finding the focus and center of one's life in God and taking time to tend to that dimension of life will give impetus and focus to our ministry. It will take :nothing away from it but will, instead, make ministry all the more importantmand all the more possible. "Promises to Keep"' A Homily for Final Vows J.Peter Schineller, S.J. Father Schineller, ~ member of the faculty of the Jesuit School of Theology in Chicago (JSTC), shared with those who witnessed his final vows in the Society of Jesus the't~houghts and movements that were his then. He resides at 5554 s. Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60637. While'I was visiting "my brother and sister-in-law over the Christmas hblidays, as oftenhappens with a new toy, an argument arose betweeh their two children. The younger boy was unwilling to let his big sister play with his new eiectriC helicopter. The conversation went something like this: "It's my t6rn! You'have to let me play ffith~it."" "I don't want to and 1 don't have to." "You have to, and you know you have to." "I don't ~have to,' and I ~on't." "You have to, because you promised!" "Well, OK." My five year old nephew was trapped. He was caught by his promise, and he kne~ it. He knew in his child's wisdom that a prom~ise is something special, something sacred, and not just any old word. Promises make a difference.' "The child in me made promises more than 18 years ago, not about toys, but about how to spend my whole life*; promises not to ariother pers6n, but promises to God, tlie Father of all persons. And here I am this ~evening, to *The Jesuit's "first vows," taken at the end of the novitiate, include the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. (Editor)' 35 36 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 renew and to finalize those promises in my profession of "final vows," and to renew the promises with joy and enthusiasm. And so in these last few moments in which I am still a Jesuit scholastic, I would :like to share a few thoughts on 1) how I see these promises, 2) where the inspiration to make the promises comes from, and 3) how it is possible for anyone to make a profession of vows. First of all, what am I promising and vowing this evening? In one sense, it is nothing new, nothing beyond what I promised eighteen years ago, a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. It is not a new turn, a grandiose new option, but rather a public statement of my choice tO continue on the road begun. Yet in another sense, it is a new choosing, because with eyes far more open than 18 years ago, I am saying, "This is the path for me, and I promise to take this path as long as I live." The promises I make tonight are promises that I can only make tonight, and could not have haade five, ten--or eighteen years ago. Much has been written about the meaning of the vowed life. i donit intend'to present a new theory, but let me say briefly how.I see what I am promising. In the vow of obedience, I am saying that I will not try to build ~a career for myself. Rather my life is a responding life in the Society of Jesus, a response to the call of God as seen in the needs of others. In chastity I am foregoing the joys, pleasures and anxieties of building a home and family and thus establishing family roots. My basic community will be the Jesuits I live, work, and move with. In this way I hope to be available for loving service, wherever the good news of God's love is called for. In poverty I am saying that I will look upon my time, talents, education as always God's gift to me, not for myself, but to be shared in the service of others. Finally, I promise to do all of this as a member of the Society of Jesus. That is much easier to grasp and to explain. For it means living, growing, working, enjoying life, and dying with many of the persons you see here. And it is quite a group: young and old, tall and short, from all over the United States, and even from around the world. What do w,e have in common? All of us are engaged in the serious convers.~ition and ctiallenges of Christian life and ministry, in the~.tradition of Ignatius and the many .great Jesuits of the past and present. We are trying-in many different ways to let the good news of the love of God break into this world. ~ Secondly, where do I get the urge or inspiration to make these vows and promises? If it comes simply from my own imagination, then I could make and break these promises without further ado. But years ago, in quiet and diverse ways, the idea crept into my head to be a Jestlit and a priest. The idea came fr.om reading books, from conversation; from the example of my family, parish priests, and from Jesuits who taught me, And so I responded. "Promises to Keep," A,Homily for Final Vows But it was a long time ago that the journey began. Today where do I get the inspiration to make this profession of final 'vows? It seems to me that the process is quite similar. You, so many here, and so many who couldn't be here, in your own ways, have kept ~the vision and ideal of being a Jesuit priest before my eyes. YOU have been sending me signals, challenging, pushing, leading m.e, ~and so I respond. You have been sending me signals,' as I read them, that indicate that what I am about is good, and is from God. Signals have come from the parish at Harvey, Where I help on Sundays, to friends and teachers at the University of Chicago; from Jesuits in New York to students I teach and learn with here at the Jesu.itSchool of Theology; from fellow faculty members, friends of Hyde Park, to those I live with at Jesuit House. And I have to rely on :these signals, signals which have given me hope, courage, and confidence .,that 1 am on the right path. There is one conviction that has grown over the years, that while the vows are finally from God and made to God, it is according to his plan and purpose that the desire and courage to take and renew the promises of vows always comes mediated through.human lives. I sensed today a new insight into, or application of the parable of the last judgment in Matthew 25. If I might dare paraphrase it, I would say, "what I prpmise or vow to you, the least ofGod's brothers and sisters, I am vowing to God himself." But thirdly, how it is ppssible to make and live such promises? Many would say that this way of life is inhuman, psychologically unhealthy, or even un-Christian. How can i be sure that this is truly the will of God for me? How can I avoid the danger of the vows, the danger of being un-loving, irresponsible, the danger of pride in thinking that I have chosen a "better w~y" than n0n-vowed life? How can I'choose or control the future, and say where I wish to be ten or thirty years from now? Am I not fighting against Christian freedom, the freedom of the Spirit? Finally, and most trouble-some, how can I promise to God what he alone can give true obedience, holy poverty, and perfect chastity? These virtues are his gifts, and so how dare I promise or vow them'before God? The answer to these difficulties and°dangers must be an answer in faith, hope, and loving trust. Let me explain: I used to think I could figure it out--and had figured it out. I had what I thought was an adequate view of God, a solid enough view.of myself and the meaning and possibiliti~es of human life. I thought that on the basis of this perspective I could pronounce and keep my vows. They made a lot of sense. Now I see it is ndt so easy. For I see that vowed life, in common with all life, is, to use Karl Rahner's phrase, "a surrender to the mystery and incomprehensibility of God." I can't give a complete and adequate rational account or grounding for vowed life, for myself or anyone else. But on the basis of expei'ience and prayerful reflection, I dare to say that this life is not only.possible, but it is God's will and graced way for me. Living the vows as I have been about and encoun- 311 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/'1 tering the mystery of God in and through them is. their only final justification. Th.ey have been, are, and I say tonight, will continue to be my way to meet God, to be myself, and to respond to the needs .of God's people., Just as the Jesuit-.style of life has shaped my daily existence, so, in a.mysteriou.s way, the vowed life has shaped and formed my faith-filled idea of God himself. The God, revealed to me through the vows is a God I can and must stand before in trust. He is the one. who gives joy, peace, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose and mission far deeper tha~ any that I could create or grasp on my own. Moving to the center of the mystery of the possibility of the vows, I dare to say in and through these vows that God, the incomprehensible one, is not distant, far-off, uninvolved, but rather he is somehow present and working as the one who makes possible these promises in the first place. I find I am almost forced to say that he, in his Holy Spirit, is making the vbws and promises in and through me. And go only on this basis.do I dare to promise what God alone can give as gift. For I am convinced that it is a response to his impulse and urge that pushes me to make this commitment. I began these reflections with the story of a child:s pr~mise at Christ-mastime. Let me conclude with a poet's words on promises. In the midst ofa busy Week in a snow filled winter in Chicago, a pocida of Robert'Frost is perhaps most appropriate, "Stopping by Woods on a Siaowy Evening." It is good that we are here together, pausing; ~stopping not by woo~is, but in the city i~f Chicago in Augustana Lutheran Church.Tlie poet, stopping with his horse and carriage explains, "The woods are lovely, d~rk and deelS." And ~peaking formyself, Isay, yes,the woods I have journeyed through over ,the past eighteen years have been lovely, dark and deep. The woods a~re lovely--exciting, encouraging, adventuresome and challenging years, with beautiful moments of joy and peace, so lovely that~ I gla.dly, freely continue down this path. The woods are dark--filled with the .unexpected, from a pre-Vatican II Church onward towards Vatican III, with the graced paradox of a Jesuit pronouncing his final vows in a Lutheran church. Final-ly, the woods are deep if nottiing else the years of th~ journey have been deep, far too deep for me to understand and explain all that led me here tonight,, and all that is involved in this celebration, far tro deep for me to adequa.tely thank all who have supported and e, ncouraged me. Yes, the woods have been deep--filled with the mysterious presence of God in one humari life. The,,woods I,have journeyed through have been lovely, dark and deep, and I am saying in effect tonight that I would not trade a~0ay this way of, life through the woods for any other way. I say this joyfully, and as strongly as I can. But we can't stop here and pause here too long in-snow filled Chicago. For as the poet reminds us,'and as his poem concludes: "Promises to Keep," A Homily for Final Vows / 39 The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. May God who is Father, Son and Spirit continue to strengthen and guide each one of us on our journeys in the miles ahead. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "CelibateGerhtality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Celibacy and Contemplatio~n,'~ D. Dennehy, S.J . 30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . 3.0. "Consciousness Exhmen," G: A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. . ~.50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Asch~ffbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation;' S.C. for Rel!gious . ~ . .~. . 35 "Prayer-of Personal Reminiscence," D. J,' Hassel, S.J .6.0. '~Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of .Disdernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J. ' . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in CelibateDevelopment," P. Cristatitiello . . . ~ . 60 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O,P. .~.3.0 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .7.5. "The Contemporary Spirituality of ihe Monastic Lectio," M, Neuman, O.S.B: . ~. . 50 "The Four Momeiats of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J .5.0. "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith,oS.J . :.° . .35 Orders for the' above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St~ Louis, MO 63108 Destructive Passivity Spiritual Direction in Judith Roemer Sister Judith is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. ecently, I have become aware of the work of Aar.on a.nd Jacqui Schiff on psychological aspects of passivity (T. A. Journal, 1:1, January, 1971). As I read some of their findings, I began to see applications to the situation of spiritual direction. I began to realize how important it is for directors to be more alert in detecting patterns of destructive passivity in their directees. I came to recognize how important it is not to foster such patterns. It.seems to me, then, that noting and examining the categories of these psychologists regarding negative passivity can be highly productive in improving the process of spiritual direction. ~ "Passivity" has long been esteemed in the spiritual life. For that reason, it seems necessary to distinguish clearly from the start precisely what is the subject of this paper. There definitely is a time for activity, and a time for passivity. What seems essential is that passivity, as a way of responding, be carefully chosen. When, after looking at a situation and being in touch with my faith, my intelligence, and my affectivity, I decide to do nothing, I have made good use of passivity. This paper is not about those freely-chosen, well-thought-'out, peacefully and joyfully chosen situations. On the con-trary, this paper is concerned .with a form of passivity which inhibits adult responsibility and substitutes an unproductive way of acting for a decision. Previously I had thought of passivity in terms of "'dging nothing," However, the unproductive types of passivity wear many masks. Along 40 Destructive Passivity in Spirit.ual Direction / lll with "doing. nothing," passivity can take the form of "over-adaptation," "agitation," "incapacitation," and "violence." Each form in turn has many other forms as the category is expanded. In writing about the situation of spiritual~direction, my assumption is that, for the most part, I am dealing with normal, productive adults. Hen~e~ without pushing Schiffs' original categories of abnormal behavior beyond their intent, I suggest that the destructive areas of passive behavior noted by them do have potential tendencies that are also to be~found ~n the situation of directing healthy adults. Both director and directee carl profit by being aware of them. Secondly, I want to show that the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius contain some useful tactics for cou.nteracting destruc-. tive passivity. Using these tactics can be the occasion for providing quality decisions for the furtherance of the Kingdom. Doing Nothing In religious circles we often smile knowingly at the self-made martyr; we chide one another with the standard phrase, "Offer it up." We are indignant at the priest and levite who preceded the Good Samaritan and passed by the wounded stranger because it wasn't their business. We scoff at Cain as iii~ asks about being his brother's keeper. All of these are simply good exam-ples of the first category of destructive passivity, of doing nothing. Not quite so obvious is the example of a person who gathers data ad infinitum; waiting endlessly for the perfect insight, the perfect moment, before con-cretizing his dream in decision. Close to him is the example of the person who is caught in speculation to the point of paralysis. His personal intui-tions convolute beyond time and talent, becoming a threatening burden rather than a beaconing light. Substituting one a~tivity for another, washing the car instead of writing the checks, is yet another form of "doing nothing." A quite obvious form is plain indecisiveness. Not quite so easy to detect would be falling into a certain disproportionate balance of activity and passivity in prayer. One of the greatest struggles in prayer is knowing when to let go of activity in order to be quiet. As a person moves from a meditative stance to a contemplative stance, he is faced with the decision to choose or to resist passivity. Instinctively he would tend to resist whatever would challenge his depen-dence on word, fantasy, clarity or concept. In prayer, though, a person at some time is faced with the necessity of choosing the darkness of faith in place of his familiar dependency on thoughts and feelings. In the Exercises of St. Ignatius, the First Principle and Foundation (23) gives a clear direction against ~'doiflg nothingi': "The other things., are created for man to help him . Hence he ought to make use of them insofar as they help., and to rid himself of them insofar as they prove a hindrance." Later, in the Kingdom (91-98) the id quod volo (grace desired) is indicat- 49 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 ed in the petition to be "prompt and diligent., not to be deaf." Further on, the Three Classes of Men (149-155) portray sets of persons in the midst of decisions. At one extreme is the destructively passive man, who, filled with hopes, dreams, doubts, and attachments, comes to the end of~ his life uncommitted, not having "made use of any means." At the other end is the man of the ThirdClass who has developed a sense of freedom, a willingness to work with many options "to be better able to serve God our Lord." Many,, times people are unaware that there is any way out of their unproductive passivity, and thus see "doing nothing" as a way of survival. But this neednot be the case. A director who insists on careful discernment encourages his directee to find and develop many alternatives, thus lessen-ing the need for anyone to be locked into a single unproductive mode of ¯ acting. Over-adaptation A second, kind of passivity is over-adaptation; taking another's goal as one's own. Unlike the former category of "doing nothing," this one of over-adaptation appears to be busy and productive. Yet the exaggerated dependency role continues to operate and the results are destructive. Fear and "peace at any price" are common manifestations of over-adaptation in religious life. Yet it is often close to ordinary adaptation, which is a necessary~part of human existence. Hence over:gdaptation is difficult~to spot externally. However, careful listening to a directee can give a director many hints of how the directee is going to excessive pains not to cause trouble, to be nice, to be cooperative. Unfortunately it is not uncommon to hear of difficult or even impossible situations in which a person chooses to "sit" on his thoughts and feelings, to "adapt" rather than confront another person or a structure. The pain is often "offered up," and the unhealthy situation persists lest the individual be considered unmortified, or narrow-minded. Fear, too, can be used to mask over-adaptation. Especially among reli-gious women, being timid sometimes has an air of virtue about it. The timid woman wants to be rescued, preferably by a male spiritual director who will protect, reassure, and comfort her without suggesting that she move out of her unproductivity :and decide, with his help, what she is to do about it. Rather insidiously, this kind ofpassivity can be a mask for a deeper kind of aggression. It is difficult to challenge someone who is "trying so hard" to cooperate. Consciously or unconsciously, it doesn't take too long for the over-adapter to learn how much control can be gained in such a situation. Unfortunately, this kind of over-adaptation is often canonized as "docility." ,. Ironically, gaining control through over-adaptation often proves frus-trating. In the effort to mold, regulate and maintain the climate of safety created by over-adaptation, the directee often cannot hear the voice of the Destructive Passivity in Spiritua[ Direction Spirit. This kind of person has set up an atmosphere in which he does not have to give up his security. In clinging to safety he has substantially cut himself off from the world of inspiration and challenge. Directors often see this in directees who cannot believe that God could possibly be leading them beyond their self-made rules, beyond their self-made security and safety. Directees see this in directors who speak only of asceticism, never of mysticism, who prefer devotions and practices instead of fidelity to the Spirit. In some way those who claim they have no time for prayer as well as those who claim they cannot be involved with their neighbors both have fallen heir to passivity,in the form of over-adaptation. The former have let the rat race rather than their own head, heart and faith decide their destiny. The latter have refused to be molded by the poverty, particularity, and concreteness of the Incarnation.' Lastly, in our day, we often fail victim to concern for public relations. Our assumptions about what the bishop will think, what the lay teachers will think, what our community will think, what the Protestants Will think, what the children will think, and so on, endlessly, often decide the course of important events ?Further, they are used as a justification and motivation for over-adapting, for decisions which are unworthy of our faith experi-ence. Over-adaptation is an excellent example of how the "angel of darkness" comes disguised as an "angel of light" (Ex 332). We are all familiar with the monsters that have arisen in the guise of virtue under such "headings as availability, community, poverty, or blind obedience. Burning the candle at both ends, :navel gazing, stinginess, and the ill-use of human talents are all destructive~and.unworthy of the Kingdom. Those who have suffered these delusions might well look less to over-adaptation and more to considered responsiveness in their future decision-making. The Exercises are intended to be a celebration of one's gift of spiritual freedom. Key to that~disposition is ~ spirit of indifference. 1 can use things when I need them and put them aside when they hinder'rme. I canchoose the one or the other, not being unduly influenced by position, location or advancement. Such a stance demands a sense of presence: pres~ence to myself ag I accept the wonder and agony of who I am; and presence'to God as I accept the reality of Someone beyond'me who loves me, At the peak~ of the Ignatian ,experience, the exercitant becomes a cor~templative-in-action. Again and again, each one of the exercises faces him with the question: "What do I want?" He is asked to identify his desire and pray for what he needs. He is asked to face the reality of what he can do, what he needs to ask for, what he plans to do about it all. As though this were not enough, he is asked to order his de~i~es, prioritize his Iongings, lest he assume the posture of the man of the Secon~l Class (Ex 154), thus leaving himself open 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 to compromise and mediocrity, It is comforting to note that over-adaptation is often the easiest of the unproductive passivities to remedy. Most people who are negatively pas-sive have done a lot 0fthinking :to arrive at such a position. They are equally capable of assimilating new. information, though. For this reason, it would be a good thing for a director to confront such negative passivity directly. Thinking seriously about developing more positive options, a director and directee can develop new alternatives that lead to more creative results. Agitation The third category of unproductive passivity is agitation, the repetition of actions that have no meaning in terms of what the individual is seeking. In prayer this often shows itself in the kind of spiritual gluttony that ex-cludes the invitation to the darkness of faith. Most of us who pray consistently catch ourselves at times trying too hard, attempting to "program" a religious experience by learning the new-est techniques, and then clinging to the resultant experience as though it were God. Once an individual has fallen into this, it ultimately comes to him asa surprise to find that faith is~dark. His experience with this darkness then arouses anger, possessiveness, the demand that God come to him on his terms. His first experience with this reality often brings about more agita-tion in the form of worry, fretting, the gloomy exaggeration of his situation out of all proportion to its reality. Many persons tend to drop prayer at this point; "Nothing is happening," they say. Or they become over, involved in new techniques, in more interesting works, or in other people, rather than take the effort to learn to live comfortably with dark faith. Since religious people tend to be idealistic, they tend to strive for goals so high that the gap between the real self and the ideal self creates depres-sion rather than energy. Here is where good direction offers an opportunity for balance. Directors should be on the alert for extremes. Wild imaginings in time of prayer, quickly changing moods of sadness, exuberance, fear, or zeal need testing. It seems unlikely that experiences of being "bugged by God" about small ~hings or "being made to suffer" by God hold up in the pro.cess of good discernment. It is more likely that persons have allowed themselves the "luxury" of agitation as a replacement for the decision to accept fully the implication's of their call. Such a decision, lived, is sobering. Life with God becomes quiet, gentle, strong, and often hidden. One must be willing to give up the excitement of flurry, th.e pride of being a "martyr to the cause," the prestigiousness of extraordinary phenomena. The con-crete decision i.s amazingly simple, poor, and hidden, just as it was when the Word was made Flesh. St. Ignatius has many suggestions for coun~teracting agitation. In the Rules for Discernment for the First W~eek (313-327) he describes the behav-ior that is characteristic of those facing their own sinfulness. He warns Destructive Passivity in Spiritual Direction against secrecy, sadness, false reasoning, restiessness, frames of mind that lead to lack of faith, hope, and love. In the Second Week's Rules for Discernment (328-336) he describes the experience of agitation as "'violent, noisy, and disturbing." These, he counsels, are from the evil one. Again, [the course of thoughts suggested to us] may end in what weakens the soul, or disquiets it; or by destroying the peace, tranquility, and quiet which it had before, it may cause disturbance to the soul. These things are a clear sign that the thoughts are proceeding from the evil spirit, the enemy of our progress and eternal salvation ~333). Unfortunately, many enjoy their agitation. Not only does it substitute for their having to make a decision, but they can often find convincing reasons to suggest why it is actually accomplishing something. However, this would be a dangerous area to cultivate.Little that is long-lasting for the K~ngdom is accomplished through such agitation. Further, the'anxiety that I am arousing can move me into the more destructive aspects of passivity: incapacitation or violence. For the director, little or nothing is accom-plished by cooperating with the agitation ofhis directee. In fact, trying to dialog logically with a person in this state often brings the directee more deeply into a dependency role, delaying a good decision. In these cases an effort should be made by both director and directee to calm the agitation, moving it back to an over-adaptive situation where, temporarily at least, the director can give calm instructions that will provide a better atmosphere for the directee to think of alternatives and decide on more productive options. Incapacitation A more entrenched kind of passivity is the fourth type: incapacitation. 'One of the most common manifestations of freezing or incapacitation tn spirituality is stubbornness, an unwillingness to move one step further until I fully understand where I am going. This kind of stubbornness commonly occurs during the transition from meditation to contemplation. "I don't know what is going to happen, and I will not let go until I do," The result is that I stay where I am, often giving up mental prayer as a result. Hand-maid to stubbornness is scruple, a fear of doing something good lest I be wrong or at least somewhat ill-motivated, Much good can be left undone while a person worries about whether or not he is proud, vain, or ambitious, The Exercises answer this frame of mind. lfl such cases one should raise his mind to his Creator and Lord, and if he sees what fie is about to do is in keeping with God's service~, or at least not opposed to it, he should act directly against the temptation. According to St. Bernard, we must answer the tempter, "" I did not undertake this because of you, and I a.m not going to relinquish it~because of you" (351). Refusing to let go of an emotion, pleasant or agonizing, is another form of incapacitation. "'I can only pray provided it is a high experience." ""Io have grown comfortable with my anger (resentment, low self-image) and 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 the atmosphere I create helps me feel secure. I control my environment." Unfortunately, the situation backfires and shields the individual from life, i~ssenin'g the likelihood of his loving or suffering, rejoicing or crying with the rhythms of the real world. Having entrenched himself in his low self-image, he begins to project distorting 'images on God. God becomes the Great Controller, the Life-Taker, the Divine Exactor, rather than the Evoker of Freedom and the Loving Father. Lastly, incapacitation demon-strates itself as an unwillingness, an inability to look at one's blind spots. Fear of losing the security of his images often prevents the individual from being called beyond his own devices to the darkness of faith by the whispers of the Spirit. The Ex~rcises face incapacitation firmly by asking the individual to seek for the gift of knowing that he is deeply loved and ~knowing that he is at the same time sinful. Coupled with that grace is his growing realization of who he i~the wonder and the agonywthat leads him to grow comfortable and free with his own reality. In the protection of this new freedom the person does not.have to struggle for survival. He has experienced love. He knows that he is "precious in his sight" (Is 43:4). The Exercises would stir him out of his inactivity, bidding him to look at his secret stubbornnesses as a "false lover" who readily leaves as soon as he is discovered (326). In #325, I am admonished to face the temptation boldly so that it can be put to flight. My willingness to renounce my incapacitation reaches a high .moment when I honest|y put myse|f before Christ on the Cross "as one friend speaks to another" and hear myself own the answers to the triple question, " What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I to do for Christ?" (53). Paradoxically, the most extreme kind of passivity is violence. In it I give up my responsibility for thinking and loving to vent my energy on destruc-tion. Among religious people the violence is often inward: psychosomatic illness, masturbation, guilt, tortured imaginings. These are a poor substitute for the ecstacy to which I am called. The individual prefers the certainty of destruction to the uncertainty of wonder. Even worse, ,he can cloak the mess he has created in a false rationalization of the Third Degree of Humil-ity (Ex 167),thinking that these passivities are his way of bearing poverty, humiliation, and scorn with Christ. Eventually the fruits of distress and frustration, both in himself and in those who have to live with him, will hopefully bring him to his senses. The fruits of true Christian suffering and a true participation in Christ's life always bring forth peace and joy in the depths of the spirit. Violence can also be outwardly directed. We religious may not throw a chair through a window, but we do impose verbal burdens

Issue 29.6 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw Fog R~LmtOUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. .Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1970 by REVIEW SOR REI, mtOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw sort RELmmUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REvmw sog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW sort RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box l 110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW sog RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 6 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. Spiritual Counseling and Pra er. Fostering an ever deepening relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitutes a major objective of the religious life. Traditionally the road to such a relationship has been a formal schedule of prayer. The daily horarium of spiritual exercises has been an essential part of almost every congregation's rule or con-stitutions. During the past decade styles of religious life and prayer have undergone change, especially among younger religious. Emphasis on the relationship with God remains, but the way of achieving this relationship and what it means differ. The new religious is more aware of what he is before God and before others. He is more aware of the Spirit working in the secular world; he recognizes God in himself, in the persons and events of his daily life. He encounters Christ in his contacts with others. Formal prayer, such as meditation, recitation of the Office and rosary, seem less impor.tant to him. In some instances, they have been abandoned in favor of a fre-quently renewed commitment. Flexibility. in Prayer In response to changing attitudes, many congregations have started to experiment with more flexible approaches to prayer. Freedom, previously unheard of, has been ÷ granted. Set periods of obligatory prayer have given way ÷ to approaches geared to unique personalities and temper- ÷ aments and to the dem~inds of a particular apostolate. This change has let a breath of fresh air into many communities, but at the same time it has created a vac-uum. Formal scheduled prayer, while it can and has helped individuals to grow in the likeness of Christ, is subject to the danger of routinism. It is relatively easy for a religious to deceive himself into believing that he is growing in the spiritual life because he spends the time at prayer required by rule, whereas little true prayer is ac- 803 Richard Vaughan, S.J.; P.O. BOX 519; Los Gatos, California 95030; is Provincial for Edu-cation of the Cali-fornia Jesuits . VOLUME 29, 1970 .÷ R. P. Va~ghan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 tually taking place. Some religious have been content to spend the assigned time at daily meditation, Office, or rosary, even though little recognizable benefit resulted, simply because the rule prescribed it. Young religious have come to question such a view. The focus of their religious life is more on the frequently renewed dedica-tion. However, just as the traditional emphasis has its limitations, so too does the recent approach. A spiritual life placing heavy emphasis on seeing God in the world of people and events can gradually give way to a human-ism in which one is no longer actively aware of God and centers rather on the purely human with a subsequent loss of the original commitment. Value of Spiritual Counseling Regular spiritual counseling can counteract this dan-ger, inasmuch as it requires the counselee to face honestly and openly his continuing commitment to the service of God and neighbor and, it might be added, to see the need for some form of regular prayer if an active awareness of God's presence is to continue. The process of spiritual counseling differs radically from psychological counseling and psychotherapy. The latter two are concerned with changes in personality and the reversal of symptoms resulting from the application of psychological techniques, whereas spiritual counseling focuses on the person's life with God. The spiritual coun-selor attempts to help the individual become more aware of his religious experiences. Basically he is trying to assist the counselee in discerning the workings of the spirit, so that he can determine what is the will of God for him in concrete situations. It is true that emotional disorders and faulty attitudes injure this discernment, but chang-ing these personality characteristics is not the spiritual counselor's proper function. Recognizing them, however, and the part they play in blocking discernment is. When personality characteristics are such as to handicap seri-ously any true discernment, then it is the responsibility of the spiritual counselor to direct the religious to a compe-tent professional so that these limitations can be reme-died. Spii'itual counseling serves a number of important functions. First of all, it allows us to have a better under-standing of the nature and quality of our relationship ,with God. It makes us actively aware of our daily reli-gious experiences. In our routine-ridden world, it is very easy to put aside a certain amount of time for prayer but seldom reflect on the efficacy and effectiveness of this prayer. We are apt to gloss over the question: Is my prayer truly prayer? Moreover, spiritual counseling makes us clarify and sharpen our thoughts and feelings about religious experiences in a way we would never do if we settled for a few minutes of self-reflection. When I must explain these experiences to another, I am forced to scrutinize them and then describe them in clear, accurate terms intelligible to my listener, As I talk about such things as the place of Christ in my life, God as a loving Father, prayer, the manifestation of grace, the working of the Holy Spirit, or God's will, I gradually sort out the genuine from the false, and the important from the un-important. I become aware of my openness or.my lack of openness to God. I become aware of the many ways that God is operating in my life--either directly or indirectly. I experience a deeper appreciation for God-'s manifesta- .tions. On the other hand I may well see that a wall seems to exist between God and myself. I may come to the conclusion that I have closed myself off from or denied many of God's manifestations. I may see that I have rejected important graces and c6ncerned myself exces-sively with my own world. If left to myself, it is less likely that I would come to realize my own selfishness and. lack of concern for God and neighbor. Listening Spiritual counseling involves three phases: listening, dialogue, and decision. Listening is an activity .of both the counselee and the .counselor. Even though the coun-selee may never reflect upon the fact, he listens to himself and to the promptings of divine grace within himself. As he talks he becomes aware of God working in and through him. Moreover, it is assumed that previous to the coun-seling session he has listened to God speaking, especially at times of.prayer. These promptings of grace become the subject of discussion. It should be noted that God speaks in many ways: directly through His Spirit, through reve-lation, through others, and through the events 6f everyday life. One 6f the goals of counseling is to determine when God speaks as opposed to the promptings of our sinful nature. Listening is also the work of an effective counselor. It is sometimes falsely considered "lending an ear." If one is present and aware of what is being said, he is thought to be listening. The truth of the matter is that listening is a very active process requiring much concentration and ex-penditure of energy. It demands that the counselor try to be aware of what is taking place within the counselee at each moment he is with him. It also demands that the counselor recognize the various levels of functioning, such as the spiritual, the cognitive, the conative, and the affective, as well as the relationship and integration, or lack of integration, of all of these functions. For instance, the good listener is one who is perceptive enough to see ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 805 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW "FOR RELIGIOUS 806 when emotions have taken over to the detriment of the Spirit or when habitual attitudes block thoughtful reflec-tion. The good listener hears not only the words but the way the words are expressed. He notes the tone of voice as well as the mode of expression; from these he is able to estimate the emotional involvement. The spiritual coun-selor as listener concentrates on any indication of the Spirit working within the counselee. He notes blocks or hindrances to the promptings of grace. At times, he sees that the counselee has a need to unlSurden himself before he can become aware of God's presence in his life. The counselor listens with empathetic concern. He attempts to discover what God means to the connselee, his reli-gious experiences, the depths of his faith, and his atti-tudes. Frequently all of these can be learned by active and attentive listening with little need for probing or questioning. Before the counselor enters the second phase, namely, the dialogue, he makes sure that he has at least an adequate estimate of the counselee's spiritual state. Dialogue The second phase, the dialogue, presupposes a rapport which allows the counselee to talk freely about his reli-gious experiences. Concerned listening often brings this about, inasmuch as it produces a feeling of acceptance, which permits the counselee to express freely his views without [ear of rejection. A dialogue is a conversation in which two persons reason on a topic, exchanging ideas and opinions. They examine the evidence for and against an action or a position. The initial stance is one of open-ness to all possibilities. When the term is used in relation to spiritual counseling, it implies that the counselor and the counselee examine the latter's spiritual condition, re-flecting upon its state. I[ all is well, they evaluate the signs indicating that the individual is following God's will. If there is a problem, they weigh together possible solutions, considering arguments for and against each. During the first phase the counselee describes his spirit-ual condition, which then becomes the topic of discussion during the second phase. The counselor helps the counse-lee enumerate arguments favorable to and opposed to a particular stance; he helps him evaluate the relative mer-its of each. He assists him to see when and how the Spirit is working in concrete situations. He also helps him to-ward a greater awareness of God's presence. Counseling is a learning situation. It is a time when an individual learns more about himself. Often this is accomplished without giving advice or direction. As the counselee talks about his relationship with God and neighbor, he be-comes more aware of divine intervention in the world of grace. He begins to see on his own what changes should be made and what he should do to bring about improve-ment. However, there is still a place for direction and guidance, especially in counseling younger members of a community. For instance, if a religious has never learned to pray properly, the counseling session c,'in afford an opportunity to teach the fundamentals, followed b3) a period of testing and reassessment. It can also be the occasion for presenting the traditions of a community, a time when the religious can consider whether he is fol-lowing these traditions or whether he really wishes to do so. Whether one makes use of advice and. guidance de-pends upon the needs of the individual counselee. It is the task of the counselor to determine these needs and then proceed accordingly. Decision-making At times, decision-making is part of the counseling process. Frequently, however, the purpose of counseling is simply to help an individual come to a greater aware-ness of God's manifestations and to a better understand-ing how he is or is not following God's will. When there is a need to make a decision, it is hoped that the counsel-ing will result in the counselee arriving at a decision on his own. The function of the counselor is to see that the counselee confronts all the options and weighs their rela-tive merits. Rarely should the counselor force a final deci-sion based on his own evaluation of the situation. If the counseling is truly counseling, most counselees can arrive at a decision without undue influence on the part of the counselor. An inability to do so may signify some kind of a psychological problem. dttributes of the Counselor Who can counsel? What should be the characteristics and abilities of the spiritual counselor? First and fore-most, he or she should be a person of faith, aware of the world of grace and the divine manifestations; one who has personally experienced the presence of God in his own life. He should be a person who can and does love both himself and others. He should be perceptive, with the ability to see below the surface and recognize the depths of personality and spiritual growth. He should also be able to communicate well his thoughts and im-pressions. To be effective, he or she will need adequate training in the theology of the spiritual life and, hope-fully, will have previously sought out a spiritual counse-lor for himself or herself. Psychological training can be helpful inasmuch as it offers some procedures directly or indirectly applicable to spiritual counseling. It should be noted, however, that it Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 807 can also be a handicap if the counselor, as a result of his training, centers most of his attention on personal prob-lems to the neglect of the spiritual. If young religious are to develop a full spiritual li~e, and if older members are to realize the renewal urged by Vatican II, there is a need for an abundance of spiritual counselors--at least one or two for every large commun-ity, It is quite evident there are too few priests with available time. The most logical solution is for congrega-tions to train the members of their own communities as spiritual counselors. They could select those best suited by previous training, experience, and personality, and assign them to this important task. Many orders or con-gregations of men have already inaugurated such a pol-icy, but they find it impossible to supply priests who can devote themselves fully to the counseling of religious women. Conclusion A perusal of the early history of the religious life re-veals a minimum of structure with a great emphasis on regular spiritual direction. Due to the constant effort of a spiritual counselor each monk grew at his own rate in the likeness of Christ. As members increased individual coun-seling became more difficult and was gradually replaced by the ordered daily horarium of spiritual exercises, the goal of both being the deepening of the monk's relation-ship with God. If contemporary religious congregations are to realize the inner renewal sought by Vatican II, they would do well to consider a return to a style of religious life grounded in regularspiritual counseling. ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOU$ SISTER KRISTIN SHRADER, R.S.M. Prayer Is Listening Several years, ago, Karl Rahner began speaking of the "Church of the Diaspora," the Church which had come of age, which had forsaken the trappings of bourgeois collectivism, which had become the standard, of a commit-ted few. If the diaspora has characterized Chrigtianity, it seems even more so to be characterizing contempoi:ary religious" life. The wane of numerical strength has made it clear that convents and seminaries are in the throes of a crisis of vocation and a crisis of belie[. It is within the context of religiotis life in the Church of the diaspora that I would like to discuss the question of contemplative prayer. Our age, engulfed in a deluge of media and messages, has been characterized as one which "has lost the apti-tude for prayer.'.' 1 If prayer is listening not only to the Spirit as He works in our hearts but as He works in the world around us, then perhaps our age has also lost the aptitude' for listening. Perhaps we are deaf to'entire re-gions of ourselves and our world. I shall try to describe these hidden domains, and, in the process, try to l~rovoke us to hear what we have not heard before. Perhaps we are deaf to that part of ourselves and our world which is beyond that which merely performs "actions. This is the self and the world which do not act, but which are the mirrors in which God acts so as to let Himself be known. This is not the self-made self and not the man-made world, but is that which is passive, which is fashioned and illuminated by God. How are we in the last third of the twentieth century to find a new way to pray, a new way to listen? I suggest that we look at our unhearing selves in terms of two new images: that of pilgrim and that of prophet, instead of in terms of the image of professional or of achiever. This means that to listen, to pray, we must not do, achieve, or accomplish anything as the world accomplishes things, but rather that we must learn to listen by holding our- I Wino~ de Broucher, S.J., "Mortification in Prayer," Cross and Crown, March 1963, p. 13. 4- Sister Kristin writes from Lewis Hall (Box 219); University o[ Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 29, 1970 809 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Kristir~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 selves in readiness for something, or rather for someone. This patient readiness is what I think Karl Rahner was describing when he spoke of prayer as "this awful waiting." 2 It is what Augustine meant when he said that the continual desire for God is prayer. I can neither explain nor understand prayer. Perhaps no one can: "There are thresholds which thought alone, left to itself, can never permit us to cross. An experience is required--an experience of poverty and sickness" 3 or, perhaps, of love or of sacrifice. By attempting to describe something, prayer, which I cannot explain, perhaps I can, though, suggest how we "listen." Merton suggests the form that such a preparation for prayer might take: (1) detachment and (2) finding ideas about God in all we do.4 His second suggestion corresponds to what I will describe as living as a prophet, as one who sees the signs of God in all things. His first suggestion, detachment, corresponds to what I have called living as pilgrim, as one who can look inside himself to see that he desires God and God alone, and that this world is b/at one stage of his Godward development. Amid the dissonance of the desires of this world, the pilgrim alone truly knows how to listen. He knows that this world is not his home, that he is journeying to God, and that this very journey is what we call prayer. As Merton says: "The secret of prayer is a hunger for God and for the vision of God, a hunger that lies far deeper than the level of language or affection." ~ Much this same point, that prayer is a desire for God, a consciousness of our being pilgrims, of our listening to what is in, but not of, the world, is made not only by Merton, but also by Teresa of Avila, by Aquinas, by Paul, by Guardini, by John of the Cross, and by Karl Rahner. When John of the Cross wrote that the man of prayer "will desire with all desire to come to that which in this life cannot be known," 6 he was making much the same point as Paul whose prayer was his desire for God: I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly awaiting for God to reveal his sons . Creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning until now the entire 2 Encounters With S!lence (Westminster: Newman, 1965), p. 25. a Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds o] Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968), p. 56. ~Seeds o[ Contemplation (Norfolk, Connecticut: New Directions, 1968), p. 133. ~ Ibid., p. 140. ~ The Complete Works of John of the Cross (Westminster: New-man, 1949), v. 1, p. 76. creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved--our salvation is not in sight., it is something we must wait for with patience. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means.' These are the words of Paul who longed ~o be deliv-ered from this body of death and to be with God, Paul who wrote to his Philippians: "I want to be gone and be with Christ." s Thus, for a man who really desires God, prayer is no longer problematic, because we pray as we live. As Merton puts it: "As a man is, so he prays." 9 Thus the man who listens is he who is able to hear his own deep desire for God. He, the pilgrim, is able to say: "I want God and I want him more than anything else, and I will wait for him." This is what Teresa of Avila meant when she uttered her Deus solus sul~cit. It is this realization which is the substance of prayer. Following along these same lines, Karl Rahner says that the ulti-mate meaning of daily prayer is the awful waiting for the God we desire: "The prayer that You require of me," writes Rahner to God, "must be, ultimately, just a pa-tient waiting for You, a silent standing by until You, who are ever present in the inmost center of my being, open the gate to me from within." 10 For Rahner, being a listener, a pilgrim, was based on the realization that nothing on earth is worth abandon-ing oneself to it. Thus all life is one prayer, one long aspiring for God, like the lives of the wise virgins of the Gospel, si~ch that our eternal possession by God is the answer to our lifelong prayer, a prayer which basically is like that of John of the Cross: I live, yet no true life I know, And living thus expectantly, I die because I do not die Within myself no life I know And without God, I cannot live.n Out of our Augustinian restlessness-~our restless until they rest in thee--and out of our wholeness and for finality is born contemplati Thi~_ pr_~esupposes, of course, that we can hear~ ' Rorn 8:18-27. s Phil 1:23. ~No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace 1955), p. 42. 10 Rahner, Encounters, p. 24. ~ Works of John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 450. hearts are ~unger for ve prayer. he cries of and World, 4- 4- + Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 81I Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 our hearts for wholeness. The penalty for failing to artic-ulate our inner longings for God, for failing to risk the often painful encounter with the unseen God within Us, is being doomed to live a boring, supercilious, superficial life. But none of us wants to live a superficial life, just as none of us wants to live a life devoid of prayer. The crucial question, then, is: How do we learn to listen, to live as pilgrims? How do we begin to utter the "I want God" which is the essence of contemplative prayer? Pascal says that we would not seek God unless He had ¯ already found us.12 This suggests that we cannot learn to desire God, because He must find us first. This suggests that John of the Cross was correct when he said thatthe soul that has union with God no longer has any methods of prayer, that within the limits of the supernatural there are no prescribed ways.13 Pascal's remark also suggests that we do not really learn to look for God; rather, we realize He is already within us. Seeking Him should be for us, as it wa~ for Paul, a continual realization that He has already found us, that He dwells within us. "Know you not," Paul virtually shouts out, that "you are the temples of the Spirit?" 14 Paul knew that God had found him, had loved him.15 As John said: "Christ first loved us." i~ Perhaps we do not have a tremendous desire for God because we have not been stripped of all else. That is why we cannot live as listeners, as pilgrims. 1 referred earlier to the necessity of detachment if we were to listen to the cries of our heart for God--lf we were to llve ~'s pilgrims. This emptiness means, I think, that we realize that just as love demands sacrifice, so prayer dhmands discipline, that we cannot live by our feelings and then call it fulfillment, that we cannot live by rationalizing and then call it hearing the Spirit. I think this ~mptiness means, too, that we must bear patiently even our inabil-ity to desire God. Only When we learn to suffer with our own inability to find Christ, only when we discover our own spiritual poverty and our own hunger for God, only when we learn to agonize over the whys of existence and God and self---only then will we have prepared the ground out of which the solitude of contemplation will grow, because on.ly then will we have learned to listen. It is~hard to learn to listen, hard to say "I want God" when we know that the very conditions of our finding God demand sacrifice: the sacrifice of regular, disciplined ~ Quoted by Louis Evely, That Man Is You (Westminster: New-man, 1964), p. 15. ,1, Works o] John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 76. it Rom 8:9-11; I Cor 3:16. ~ Rom 5:8. 101 Jn 4:19. prayer, the saca-ifice of not trying to rely on an of prayer but only on faith, the sacrifice of "a ihg," as Rahner calls it,17 the sacrifice of reno that we possess, as Luke says,18 the sackifice of o dung what we used to call gain, as Paul says.19 All these forms of sacrifice are" what Cassian "purity of heart," what Christ meant when no man can serve two masters, what Merton using Zen to still the birds of appetite, wh~ Eckhart meant when he said: "To be a proper God and fit for God to act in, a man should a] from all things and actions, both inwardly wardly.20 In saying that detachment and mortification condition for the contemplative prayer ofa li: being a pilgrim, we enunciate the dictum of Jc Cross: Solitude is o;eated by an unsatisfie~ John of the Cross compares wrong desires tc which obstruct the sight of the soul,2~ and says hess that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, not first cast out that other created hunger whk to the desire of the soul; for . two contrari dwell in one person . " Yet, in spite of our knowledge that we will ne union with God in prayer without first emp hearts of other desires, this knowledge does cause us to desire God. On the contrary, it is dous grace, I think, for a person living in th~ lose interest in the things that absorb the discover in his own soul an appetite for po y methods ~vful wait-ancing all )unting as meant by said that meant by it Meister abode for so be fi:ee and out-is the pre- ;tener, for hn of the hunger. cataracts that "ful-l there be h belongs es cannot vet attain Lying our lOt alone a tremen-world to orld and 'erty and. solitude. How can we prepare ourselves to r~ zeive this gift of grace? I think we can begin, as Merton'says, by not trying to understand, explain, or produce a ~lesire for God or for contemplative prayer. Rather, we on ght to .try tq see, to listen . and this seeing and hearin experience, not rationality, out of which pray! How else can we learn to hear the pure ~ which is the threshold for prayer? Paul sugges~ learn to really listen to the Spirit when in th~ chapters of the first epistle to the Corinthians, guishes two types of wisdom. The first is a ~ words; it is rational and didlectical. The secon~ dom of the cross; it is experiential and para6 was the second sort of knowledge that Paul kne about Christ. The word of the cross is self-empt Rahner, Encounters, p. 2~. Lk 14:33. Phil 3:7-9. Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen, p. 9. Works oI John oI the Cross, v. 1, pp. 42-3. Ibid., p. 36. is pure is born. Cperience how we first two .ae distin-isdom of is a wis- ~xical. It w told us ying, and ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 813~ 4, 4. Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 only it enables us to know in the Biblical sense of know-ing as possessing in the act of love. Those who love have a new logic of knowledge and from this new type of wisdom comes the experience which is prayer. But prayer, listening to the reality of all that happens, is not merely being aware of our desire for God and our condition of being pilgrims. Prayer is not only to love God above all things, but it is also to see him everywhere in all things. This was what Teilhard called "purity of heart." 2a That is, prayer also is a type of listening which looks outward and sees the world as filled with signs of God. It is tlfis type of prayer whose exercise demands that we al! be prophets, revealing the hidden things of God out of tangible happenings. This type of prayer is not problematic if one's world is shot through with God. But how do we listen such that our world is seen and heard as permeated with God? One way, I think, is to build on the crucial experiences of life, since prayer operates by means of issues which are ulti-mate in our lives. That is, prayer operates according to our systems of values. Prayer, or the lack of it, affirms what is, or what is not, important to us: That is, the happenings which drive us to the ground ques-tions about human existence and which elicit our deepest self commitments are., good preparations for deep prayer. We find in the profound experiences of love and creativity an in-tensification of our spiritual self-possession, accompanied by a lucid awareness of the contingency of our world, which is already an encounter with God. From such peak experiences we can slowly learn to feel how God is always present to our human action?~ Perhaps we cannot learn to pray because we cannot really see or hear. Perhaps we are too much a part of an age which is activistic rather than prayerful, pragmatic rather than spiritual, anthropocentric rather than theocentric, compromising rather than disciplined. Thomas Merton once wrote that if we were really look-ing for God,. every moment and every event would sow seeds of contemplation in our hearts.2~ That is, if our hearts were ready, we would see that "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls" as Simon and Garfunkel say. All life would be a sign if we knew how to listen to God. How do we become prophets, so that we can listen to the signs of God that are heard in life? Perhaps one way of listening is conscience. Perhaps another is being aware of a seeking that is unsatisfied by material things. As we =Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 124. -"~ John Carmody, S.J., "Contemporary Faith and Prayer," Sisters Today, November 1967, p. 105. "~ Merton, Seeds, p. 18. passively search, or listen, we become aware of God's work in us and in the world around us and we respond. This response, is prayer, and it was brought about, as Scriptures say, by sleeping with our hearts awake.2~ And our heart is kept awake by love and discipline, by faith- [ulness to the insights of prayer, by watchful attention. This continual search is the 'condition of continued growth, and faith is the condition of continual search.27 For us to be prayerful, then, requires that we learn to see the world as prophets, as full of signs of God, and this requires faith. But what is the object of our faith and how is it attained? Jesus told us to seek and we would find, and yet He did not tell us what we would find. In fact He said there were no close directives for discovering His kingdom. It would come unawares; it was within . His coming would be like a lJlghtning flash.-~s If this is so, then perhaps all we can do is to be like watchful virgins, ready for the hour when His light and His prayer comes. Another way of being "ready" is, I think, to eliminate the defensivensss and self-protectiveness of our words, by opening ourselves to understand, by giving up the secu-rity of set words or positions. If we know how to listen, then a person who confronts us with angxy words is really saying he is afraid to love us. A person who says God does not exist is really saying no one ever made God meaning-ful to him. Listening this way means hearing God. And after all, (lid not God know how to listen? He loved us first, as John says.29 He became a slave so that we could be saved, as Paul says, and He loved us while we were yet sinners.~0 Why is it that we cannot see signs of God, that we do not know how to listen and to pray? Perhaps it is because Christ is not real enough for us . but how is he made real? One way, I think is by the way in which He gives shape to our lives by the vocation that we, with the Spirit, choose. This is because, for the Christian, love is the only absolute, and' our vocational dhoice and our prayer are both concrete ways of expressing this love. When Jesus prayed, it was always in response to His vocation; He prayed before choosing His Apostles, and before His passion and death. To pray in this way, as Christ prayed, demands that we listen to the signs of God in our vocational call. We pray for much ~he same rea-sons that we want to be religious: we want to preach God and to praise Him and to help bring forth His kingdom. ~ Canticle of Canticles 5:2. ~ See Rosemary Haughton, On Trying to Be Human (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1966), p. 42. = Lk 17:24. .o0 1 Jn 4:19. ~o Phil 2:7; Rom 5:9. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 815 Si~ter Kristin REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 816 We want to find Him. For these reasons we pray. For these reasons we are celibates living in community. Thus the surrender to God's will which characterizes listening prayer seems, identical with a resolve to go ahead vocationally with what we know we must do. And what we must do is necessitating precisely because it is a faithful expression of who we are. Prayer and vocation both say who we are; they constitute our identity, and they are both linked together. If we are faithful to who we a~e, then we listen. Then we do not have to run around trying to fill up people with. God, because we know He is already there, that we have already been redeemed. Then we are abl~ to make visible, in daily events, the fact that behind the anxious sincerity and idealism and capacity to love of most people is the face of Christ who loved us so much that He came to liye among us, that behind the dirty curtain of Viet-nam, and racial hatred, and all the ways in which we are insensitive to those with whom we live, is the face of the crucified Christ. This is the raw material of prayer, and knowing how to listen refines it into prayer. If we know how to listen, then we do not have to look at the world as if it were built in two stories: the first floor, the natural level, the second floor, the supernatural level. If we know how to listen, we do not have to try to depend upon laws or habits or practices or veils to speak, of God. Our love will do it for us. Instead, we can take the world as it is, lavished by God's love and our poor attempts to love, and see it as holy. I do not think the person of prayer, as prophet, is pietistic.or aloof or unapproachable; I think he or she is One who is able to recognize in all men the face of the Messiah, the one who, as prophet, is able to make visible what is hidden and hopeful the one who was without hope. Such a person is compassionate and merciful; he realizes that nothing human is alien, that something looks profane only because his eye is not sacred. Out of this human compassion, the heart of a true prophet is opened not only to his sisters and brothers, but to God. In listening to them, he can listen to the man of Galilee who called illiterate fishermen, who talked with learned Pharisees, who wept over Jerusalem, and who, finally,. had nowhere to lay His head. Jesu.s redeemed us, and if we listen, we know that. When we listen, we will become aware of all that is beautiful, that is one, that is in pain and anguish, of all that is holy, in the Body of Christ. With this awareness-- and we have to be aware--we go to the Father in the Spirit, and we praise Him and reverence Him and lift up to Him the suffering members of His Body. It is this awareness which is the door to deep personal prayer. In fact, contemplative prayer is a witness to a special type of awareness: that of faith. Here:, God is present to the self and the contemplative listener is called to live in a more intimate communication with that mystery. Just as de-tachment was the precondition for the prayer which was desire for God, so faith is the precondition for the prayer which sees God in all things. When we can live these two types of prayer, when we are both pilgrim and prophet, we can listen, and we hear precisely because we have stilled our own murmurings and hear Christ in others. When we are all this, we have, as John of the Cross says, both entered upon the road and left the road at the same time.al At this point we will have given God, not our feelings, not even our thoughts, but ourselves. And when we have done this, we can say with Rahner: "Your commission has become my very life. It ruthlessly claims all my energies for itself; it lives from my own life." az We can say with Paul: I am not my own any longer,as At this point, our prayer will be the utterly simple prayer of listening because we will be living and moving and having being in God. Prayer will happen because we pray as we live, and we must live as pilgrims and proph-ets. In the end, all I have said comes down to our living with the unshakable conviction, of those who wait, that now we see a dim reflection in a mirror, but that one day, one day, as Paul says?4 we will see face to face. Works ol John oI the Gross, v. 2, p. 70. Rahner, Encounters, p. 72. Philem I:10; Phil 3:12. 1 Cor 15:12. Prayer. VOLUME 29, 1970 817 JOHN O. MEANY AND SISTER MARJORIE CAREY, B.V.M. Psychology and "The Prayer of the Heart" J. O. Meany is as-sociate professor of. education and Sis-ter Marjorie teaches Russian at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 48556; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Incredible as it may seem, there is an ancient Christian tradition of prayer which seems to be almost unknown to Christians in the West. How many Western Christians, for example, have heard of "The Prayer of the Heart"? This Eastern tradition of prayer, sometimes called "Hesy-chasm," may play an increasingly important role in the personal and interior "reformation" which is, hopefully, now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church in the West. There are changes emerging in the Western ap-proaches to prayer and to spiritual formation: a return to a more interior life of prayer and a personalistic and psychologically-conscious spirituality. In order to return to what is more basic and funda-mental in the psychology of prayer, it is essential that we distinguish between those particular aspects of Western Christianity which have been determined by our own unique culture(s) and traditions and, on the other hand, those aspects of prayer and spirituality which are, in an anthropological sense, relatively "culture-free," or more universal and fundamental. It may be difficult to com-pare. our own familiar forms of prayer and spirituality with those which are relatively more independent of our own experience and traditions, but only in this way can we obtain a new view of the primary sources of the basic Christian spirit. There are, of course, as many approaches to G6d as there are (from the human point of view) facets of His Being; and there are as many paths to Him as there are individuals whom He guides along these paths. For God is not limited by our limitations. He draws each individ-ual to Him in a unique way. Yet it seems that, however unique the way, God usually draws a person to Him by using that person's cultural and socio-economic back-ground. Eastern and Western traditions and personality characteristics differ; thus the mode of prayer of an East-ern Christian may seem to be radically different in ap-pearance, if not in reality, from that of a Western Chris-tian. In recent years, however, many young Westerners have turned to the East for new approaches to spirituality; they have found in some forms of Eastern spirituality-- particularly in Zen Buddhism and Yoga--new insights into themselves. Similarly, we, too, may come to see more clearly our own sources of spirituality, through an at-tempt to understand a different Christian tradition. In-deed, one seldom understands his own country until he has left it to travel abroad. | Historically, the Prayer of the Heart d~tes back to the fourth-century desert fathers of Egypt wh~ insisted on the ideal of continual prayer. The Prayer of/he Heart, often called the Jesus Prayer today, began to e~nerge in recog-nizable form during the fifth century; and the full text of the prayer can be found in the life of tl~e sixth-century Egyptian hermit, Abba Philemon. A coln~non~ expression of the Jesus Prayer, rhythmically said froth the heart, has bee,n,: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. This form of prayer can be descr!,b~d as: "Standing before God with the mind in the heart. | The roots of the Jesus Prayer are to belfound in Scrip-ture itself. The Jews of the Old Testarpent so revered Yahweh that His name was considered to [be an extension of His Person, a revelation of His Being.I This reverence for the name of God continues throughout the New Tes-tament: "At the na,m,,e of Jesus every kne~ should bow, in heaven and on earth (Phil 2:10). Indeed, lthe entire Jesus Prayer is existentially, as well as Biblically, oriented. Its similarity to two other Scriptural prayers is apparent: the prayer of the blind man, "Jesus, Son ~f David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38); and that of the [publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Lk 18:13). In t!me, a body ,o,f traditio,n, al teachin~ c,a, lled "Hesy-chasm;' meaning quietness' or "reppse, grew up around the Jesus Prayer; and at least 'since the sixth century the tradition of the Jesus Prayer has influenced the spirituality of Eastern Christians. During three peri-ods of history the Jesus Prayer has been particularly in-fluential in the East: during the Golden Age of Hesy-chasm in fourteenth-century Byzantium .under the great theologian,. St. Gregory Palamas; during the Hesychast renaissance in Greece in the eighteenth century when the great anthology of Eastern spirituality, the Philokalia (love of the beautiful), was written; and during nine-teenth century Russia under Theophan the Recluse. To understand better how the Hesychast approach could contribute to the West, one might examine how it ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer o] the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 819 4. 4. 4. I. O. Meany and St. Marjmle REVJEW FOR REL]GIO0$ 82O has already contributed to the East; for example, how it has contributed to Russian spirituality, as that spirit has grown out of the environment and "national" character of the Russian people. The Russians are predominantly a silent people; this is evident in an old Russian custom: traditionally, whenever a member of an old Orthodox Russian family leaves on a journey, the entire family gathers in silence to pray. The family remains silent for several minutes; then the father rises to bless the family and each member of the family silently traces the Sign of the Cross on his forehead while facing the. family icon. Afte~ this paternal blessing, mutual blessings are ex-changed. This love of silence may also have led many Russian Christians to a contemplative life. There is also in the soul of the Russian people a primitive, almost naive simplicity; yet in this simplicity profound depths may be fathomed. Russian spirituality has been imbued with this simplicity which is so characteristic of the spirit of the Gospel. Their prayer life, too, has always been simple, without a complicated rational (or discursive) for-mula. Still another characteristic of the Russian peasant is his love of the rhythmic beauty of life--the" rhythm found in the cycles of nature and family life. This is especially apparent in the works of Tolstoy, who so com-pellingly depicted these cycles in his great epics, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. This love of rhythm, found also in Russian music, is clearly reflected in the rhythmic breathing of the "Jesus Prayer." One of the most obvious characteristics of the Russian peasant is his yearning for open and unlimited stretches of land. The geography of the land, therefore, influences the national character ofthe people, which in turn, af-fects the forms of their spirituality. The vast open areas of Siberia, the immense forests of the country, seems to have evoked a response to the Infinite which is reflected in personal religious experience. Because of this yearning for space, the Russian peasant has also been somewhat of a pilgrim. This, of c6urse, is true of many cultures and personalities; indeed, the whole history of man can be seen as a journey. Yet as Nicolas. Berdyaev points out, this spirit of the wanderer seems particularly characteristic of the Russian people. Through the centuries Russian pil-grims have traveled from afar in search of peace and spiritual renewal, visiting the famous cathedrals of Kiev, Novgorod, and other places of pilgrimage. They have traveled especially to those places where a "staretz," a man of God, prayer, and discernment, was still to be found. Thus, the innate yearning of the Russians for vast unlimited space has made them a nomadic people. This spirit of the wanderer, in search of truth, is .underscored in The VCay of a Pilgrim, a story of a Russian pilgrim who journeys forth, continually repeating the Jesus Prayer. This unknown Russian pilgrim has made the Eastern mode of prayer more available to Westerners through his personal religious experiences which are de-scribed in The Way o[ a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim ,Con-tinues His Way. The Jesus Prayer is a prayer that comes from the heart. It differs from the current Western and, perhaps, more cognitive approach to prayer; yet as St. Teresa of Avila points out, the important thing is not to have m~ny thoughts, but to have great love. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved the idea of the whole man: body and heart as well as mind and soul. This more total approach to "spirituality" seems to be meaningful for modern Westerners, as can be seen in the new orientation of such books as Harvey Cox's The Feast o[ Fools, Dechanet's Christian Yoga, Dom Aelred Graham's Zen Catholicism and Norman Brown's Love's Body. The difference in modes of prayer, then, between the East and the West is based not only on cultural and personality characteristics, but also on the different atti-. tudes toward man which are prevalent in the East and in the West. For centuries. Europeans and Americans have tended to emphasize man's rational nature; and since the Counter-Reformation, this emphasis has found expression not only in Western scientific methodology but also in various discursive "methods" of prayer, such as the Igna-tian, Sulpician, Salesian, and Ligourian. Descartes' dualism, or Western rationalism, has failed, however, to create in the (non-Westernized) East the head/heart dichotomy that it has fostered in the West. The traditional Russian peasant seems never to have lost his sense of wholeness. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved that broad perspective of "the whole man," an integrated body-heart-mind-soul. Perhaps the Zen scholar Daisetz T. Suzuki was right in contending that Western thought has erected barriers be-tween man and reality; barriers of concepts, imagery, cas-uistry, and reasoning. Consequently, instead of bringing us closer to reality, language has frequently separated us from it. For example, if a person rigidly decides not'to think about sex, he often finds himself unconscio~usly in-volved in it. There is a story of a Western theologian who decided to marry just after writing an elaborate treatise on celibacy; the theologian admitted that all his former theories had been "mental constructs." In terms of depth psychology, this type of theological "construct" might be seen as an intellectual defense, a defense which .broke down under the pressure of previously-denied (emotional and sense) experience. Repression fosters "acting out.:' Similarly, current Western existential "philosophy" can the Heart ,. VOLUME' 29,. 1970 :~" 82L ~. O. Meany and Sr. Mar]orie REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 822 be seen as an attempt to break through (defensive) logical constructs in order to come closer to the "living reality." The East, however, is in a sense, already "existential" and has been throughout its long history. Though recent Western theology has tended to be Cartesian or dualistic, the Russian has always been more at home with an existential or phenomenological ap-proach to God and prayer. The writings of Dostoevsky were influenced by Orthodox spirituality; this approach is often viewed as both intriguing and somewhat threat-ening to a Westerner, whose spiritual formation has o.ften been unconsciously conditioned by abstract ideals and logical categories. However, existeritialism and phenom-enology are beginning to have an impact in the West, through such Christian authors as Dietrich von Hilder-brand, Hubert Dom, Adrian Van Kaam, Gabriel Marcel, and Simone Weil. The existential and direct approach to God, although it is found in the prayers of the liturgies of the West, has always been a more living part of the consciousness of the Russian. The best aspects of tradi-tional Russian spirituality would not be interested in a rationalism or nominalism which would tend to separate love from human physical experience. But the worst in Russian Marxism might attempt to separate love from the physical world. Even as the human body can be seen as the outward expression of the inner soul, so also can icons, images, and incense be seen as an expression of the Church's inner spirituality. Thus the Russian prays with a pro-found sense of reverence; he seems to have a deep sense of ritual. In the Orthodox religion there is no Western-like sepa-ration between the liturgy and private prayer; no such Cartesian-like distinctions are made. This ancient Eastern tradition is similar to a relatively new trend in the West-ern liturgical movement which stresses the use of public liturgical prayers for private prayer. The scholarly jour-nal, Worship, has long stressed the value of liturgical meditations. We are not always conscious of the fact that much of our Western liturgy is an existential prayer, existential because it addresses God in the "here-and-now." For. Orthodox Christians there are no logical dis-tinctions between private and public prayer, just as for them there are no class or caste distinctions between monks and laymen. Husbands and wives, monks and nuns, all follow the same traditional and existential way of prayer. Love, not rules, is the focal point. Orthodox Christians do not feel that reading the Bible reflectively is a prayer, though they do not deny its value. Reflective reading often is predominantly a cognitive process unless the words are related to the feelings, fanta-sies, and senses of the "heart." Orthodox Christians re-gard their prayer as more of a total personal relationship to God, by praying "with the mind in the heart." At the risk of imposing Western categories on Ortho-dox spirituality, one might distinguish three forms of Orthodox prayer. First, bodily prayer which uses the pos-ture and the senses of the body. For example, one might bend his head so that his eyes can look at the place of the heart; he may try to become aware of his breathing in order to use its natural rhythm as an aid to concentration as he prays to God. Secondly, mental prayer in which the mind holds the "Word" in inward prayer, so that con-sciousness is expanded; thus one tries to center one's whole being on the "Word of God." And thirdly, there is the Prayer of the Heart. This last form of prayer is for Eastern Christians the highest form of prayer because in this way of praying the mind descends to the heart as it stands before God. The Orthodox feel that it is essential that the mind descend into the feelings and images of the heart during prayer although they realize that the heart, without the attention of the intellect, is blind. As St. Makarios of Egypt (4th century) said: "Descend into thy heart and there do battle with Satan." Thus the mind of the person descends into his heart to view his feelings, fantasies, and sensual experiences in order to choose those which are truly good and oppose those which are not. This process is different from that advocated by some western writers like Tanquerey. This process also pre-supposes a deep psychological openness to oneself, a non-defensive consciousness. Unlike many Westerners, the Eastern Christian does not try to use his intellectual constructs to keep the mind from the heart. Rather, he worships God with his heart and feelings which are, hope-fully, known by his mind. Thus the body and the inter-nal senses play a positive role in prayer, as it can in higher forms of Yoga. The conscious use of the body, as in dancing, could play a more important role in prayer and in the liturgy of the West. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to fill one's whole consciousness with the name of Jesus, just as St. Francis of Assisi spent a whole night in prayer rqpeating ever more deeply the Lord's name. Ideally, the head and the heart are thus united; conscious unity in the person is the goal of some modern psychologists and theologians. For example, the psychologist Carl Rogers describes the ide-ally "fully functioning person" as one who knows, exis-tentially, what his "heart" (or organism) is saying, and he can talk about his inner experience if he chooses to do so. The theologian, John S. Dunne, in his A Search [or God Prayer of the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 823 ~. O. Mean~ and St. Mar]orie~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in Tim.~ and Memory also stresses the value of a unity of thought, feeling a.nd action in the person, " ' .~ Through the centuries physical~ "exercise~ ~ind disci-plines such as fasting have been used to affect one's sciousness. In prayer, exercises and inner discipli.nes can" be used. to concentrate, one's being on the n.ame of. Jesus. But. one great danger in "prayer" is that words, or thoughts can be compulsively repeated, being motivated by unconscibus inner conflicts;, thus "prayer" could, be used defensively to avoid an inner growth of. conscious-ness and love. As in some forms of Yoga, the Jesus Prayer can be associated with the natural rhythm of breathing. Thus, this Hesychast"method of prayer uses the natural, not [orced rhythm of breathing or the .heartbeat to aid total intellectual and emotional conceritration on the name of Jesus; just.as a Westerner might use the beads of'a rosary ti~ c0ncefitrate on a mystery. By using his breathing to concentrate on the name of Jesus, the person may thus bring prayer more deeply into his ~hole being. Sponta-neous and relaxed breathing is used to bring one's atten-tion repeatedly back to the name of Jesus, which is then psychologically associated with the breath (and life) of the person. It is important to realize that these physical exercises are regarded as an aid to, not~ an obligation of, prhy'er. The Orthodox know well that there can be no physical or mechanical means of acquiring grace. No bod' ily nor physical techniques can be an automatic method of obtaining grace. Furthermore, they do not recommend the use of this form of prayer without proper guidance, or Spiritual direction, because it can cause sexual arousal, or it could possibly damage the lungs or body, if forced o~ used incorrectly. Associating one's prayers with the natural easy flow of one's breathing, however, is'a way of aiding the mind to descend into the body and the heart,' in an attempt to offer lovingly to God one's whole being (emotions, will, and attention) in the name of Jesus. Some practical applications of processes similar to this way of prayer are described in J. M. Dechanet's Christian Yoga. This book is one example of a modern application of "ancient wisdom to prayer. He includes a discussion of practical techniques for the "Prayer of the Heart." "On the Three Methods of Attention and Prayer"'is a treatise often attributed to St. Simon the New Theolo-gian. It makes clear that .there are three ways of prayer. The first way of prayer, used by an emotional person, would stress primarily the feeling approach to God with-out much stress on reason. A second ,,~ay of,prayer would stress the intellectual approach with thoughts-fighting-. thoughts because that person is relatively unaware of his emotions. The third and preferable way is an integration which would have the mind consciously descend into the heart so that the person takes a conscious position toward his own internal emotions and fantasies in order to love God with his whole mind, his whole heart, and his whole soul In recent years many young Americans--like Franny in Salinger's Franny and Zooey---have come to know some-thing of the Jesus Prayer, although it may easily be mis-interpreted as a mechanical spirituality. Its appeal for modern people may be due to several factors: its Christo-centric theme, its Scriptural base, its simplicity. Many may find in this way of prayer a human expression of their adoration and love of God. Others may find in its rhythmic breathing a meaningful way of "physically ex-pressing" their spirit. So, like Yoga, Zen, and other modes of Eastern spirituality, Orthodoxy may offer to the West another approach to prayer, perhaps another way of help-ing us to find our way back to the Christian Spirit. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY AND SOURCES Arseniev, Nicolas. Russian Piety. London: Faith Press, 1964. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. Prayer. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961. Berdiaev, Nicolas. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948. Chariton of Valamo, Igumen. The Art of Prayer. London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Dechanet, Jean Marie. Christian Yoga. New York: Harper and Row, 1960. Delmage, L. Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. New York: Wagner, 1968. Diahonia, a journal edited by George Maloney, S.J. New York: Fordham University. Dunne, John S. A Search for God in Time and Memory. Toronto: Macmillan, 1969. Fedotov, George P. A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. London: Sheed and Ward, 1952. Hausherr, Iren~e. "La m~thode d'oraison h~sychaste," Orien-talia christiana, 1927. Loyola, Ignatius de. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius. New York: Benziger, 1900. Johnston, S.J., William. "Dialogue with Zen," Concilium, November 1969. Jung, Carl G. The Collected Worhs of Carl Jung, volumes 5 and 9. Princeton: Princeton University, 1968. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Early Fathers from the Philokalia. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber and Faber, 1951. Mason, R.ussell E. Internal Perceptions and Bodily Function-ing. New York: International Universities Press, 1961. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain. Unseen Warfare. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Philips, Dewi Z. The Concept of Prayer. New York: Schocken, 1966. Prayer " o] the Heart VOLUME 2% 1970 825 Richardson, A. Mental Imagery. New York: Springer, 1969. Sofrony, Archimandrite. The Undistorted Image. London: Faith Press, 1958. Stolz, Karl R. The Psychology of Prayer. New York: Abingdon, 1923. Ware, Timothy. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Pelican, 1964. .~. O. Meany and St. Mar]orle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JONATHAN FOSTER, O.F.M. Some Notes on Hostility and Fidelity: The Religious Presence One of the most masterful and insightful commentaries on human aggression dates from the years immediately following World War I--Edna St. Vincent Millay's poign-ant little play, Aria da Capo. In the work's "play within a play," two friendly and unsophisticated shepherds under the direction of a stern stage manager set out to play a game in which they innocently build a wall between them and say "that over there belongs to me and over here to you." The game soon becomes deadly serious, however, and their friendship quickly deteriorates into suspicion and mistrust. At one point in the game, Thyrsis has a moment of sanity and beseeches Corydon.: "It is an ugly game. I hated it from the first. How did it start?" To which Corydon replies: "I do not know . I do not know. I think I am afraid of you! You are a strangerl I never set eyes on you before." Their fearful insight into the tragedy of their situation does not hinder them, how-ever, from plunging head-long into the "game" which ends in their mutual killing of each other for what the other has. The essence of the tragedy of human existence there-fore, as seen by Miss Millay, is the deterioration of trust. When man do not deliberately break trust with each other, society can be sweet and peaceful, as the shepherds in the play experienced it. For in the beginning, before the "game," they agreed in simple joy to "make a song about a lamb that thought himself a shepherd." But when .the wall goes up--and in the play it is only a streamer of tissue paper that Corydon cannot even find when he staggers toward his dead friend in his death agony--ignorance and misunderstanding build large, + + 4. Jonathan Foster is a member of St. Joseph's Franciscan Seminary; P.O. Box 449; Oak Brook; Il-linois 60521. VOLUME 29, 1970 827. ]. Foster,~ O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 828 tricksome images that cast dark and suspicious shadows over the land. And it is when we encounter these suspi-cious shadows that:we begin to experience hostility, and too frequeritly this hostility bristles into violence. I would like to suggest here that the situation dramati-cally Conceived in Aria da Capo is .r~pidly coming to characterize the whole of American society and that the current easy attitude toward vows in religious life is con-tributing to this situation. ¯ There is an unease in the land, an .unease that increas-ingly expresses itself in polarized movements, bristles with hostility for its counterparts, and, with a regularity t.ha.t is ~c~asing to. ast.onish; b.reaks out into violence. The reason for this is hardly a simple onE;°but one of the most important factors, I believe, is the demise of trust under-lined by Miss Millay. It has long been known that violence, especially as carried out by children, is the mindless response to a betrayal of trust by those who should above all have been trustworthy--parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Most psy-chotic violence among grown-ups too is explainable in terms of betrayal and subsequent alienation. It is.not too much to suggest that the unease drifting through our country, the. increasing prickle of hostility, the growing threat of mass violence is largely a projection on a na-tional scale of this same betrayal o~ trust. There certainly has been such a betrayal in our public institutions. Our government and political leaders have been. found to be insincere so often and so damagingly that they, have generated powerful counter-political movements based on an-idealism that seeks to actually do that which government and presen( politics only profess tostand for. Business and labor time and.time again have been found out to be playing dirty games behind the bright chintz of public relations, advertising; and noble sentiments. The curtains have been jerked back a few times too often on all levels of education, to reveal admin-istrators and teachers .with their thumbs stuck in a few unsuspected pies. Even the hallowed judicial system has been seen to be as petty and partial as ward-heeling poli-ticians. Bishops and religious leaders with almost monot-onous regularity put on masks in the same dressing rooms with government,, and more and more of their subjects are sbe, ing under the make-up. ¯ Perhaps all this insincerity is not as new as it seems. But what is certainly new is the great number of people who know: about it. Mass journalism and historical schol-arship have had much to do with this public breast-bar-ing, "telling, it like it is," debunking and stripping down even ou~ heroes. And so, I suggest, the great question that expresses the malaise of. our society is: "Who ;can you trhst?" Th~ cynical crack is mor~ and more the language of the land. More and more like-minded'groups, search-ing for trust, turn within and band together. The result is fraCtionalization, polarization, hostility, violence. "I do not know you" becomes "I do not trust you." But this is hardly the whole story. As if it were not engugh that the public institutions of our, society are found not to wash under their public robes, we are facing now the deterioration of trust in the private institutions of our society. Personal rel~itionships 'of all kinds ,have B~en affected by the erosion of trust. The vows of mar-riage, "till death do us part,"'ard taken with increasingly l~gs seriousness. In the steady-dating relationship, too, boys and girls enter into quasi-matrimonial and even Sex-ual relationships, the basis of which is not ~rust, but usefulness ~ind convenience. But where this relationship is easi!y deceived into thinking itself meaningful, the no-torious "Playboy" relationship cynically strips away all pretense and encourages partners to enter the most trust-oriented of all relationships with the most callow mo-tives. And the infamous generation gap is not created just by misttnderstanding. It is created as much by the parents using this deepest and most responsibility-bearing rela-tionship as a means for their own advancement. Finally, there are religious vows. In the past history of religious life, the value of the vow for. society was preemi-nent. Today what is becoming of supreme value is the relevance of the vo;v for the individual religious. And if the taking of the vow, or the keeping of it even for a specified time much less for life, is similarly restricting, then it is not taken, or it is broken in view of some other commitment. The priority of the individual in the reli-gious taking of vows has become paramount in our day. What we are failing to understand at this point in the pendulum swing of religious commitment is that reli-gious life is perhaps the last social institution in which fidelity and trust are basic and honored, and that this perhaps says something about the witness of religious life in contemporary society. The absolute centrality of promises to the preservat~ion of the quality of human existence has been strongly stressed b);' various authors, bi~t none has made the case more' strongly than the philosopher, Hannah Arendt; In her book, The Human Condition, Miss Arendt pinpoints two factors essential to the preservation of~ life from chaos. The first is forgiveness, or the undoing of mistakes of the past. The second is the faculty to make and keep promises. The first obviously deals with the past. The second concerns the future. The ability to make promises and keep them builds on the reality.of forgiveness, and Mi~s Arendt always keeps the two together. But for our VOLUME 29; "1970 ' "" 829 ]. Foster, O.F.~I. ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 830 purposes here, we must look especially close at what she says about promise. The making of promises is an expression of one of the most ancient needs of man. In fact the two great institu-tions of western society were built on promises. The Jew-ish- Christian religion grew out of the covenants of Abra-ham with God. And the Roman empire built a legal system on the inviolability of agreements and treaties. This is not surprising. For man's experience of himself in history has revealed a twofold "darkness." The first is his inability to rely on or have complete faith in himself: The second is the unpredictability of human events. And so man, both to insure his own survival and to make his society an increasingly hospitable one, from the very be-ginning has gone out to his fellowman in promise and covenant. He has come to rely on and count on his fel-lows. Promise is what holds society together and staves off barbarity, barbarity both in the forms of totalitarian domination and in the unstructured freedom of anarchy. Although Miss Arendt's primary purpose in treating the faculty of promise is to show that it lies at the very foundation of society, she does not ignore its value for the growth of the individual, which she sees in the con-text of the preservation of one's integrity: Without being bound in the fulfilment of promises, we would never be able to keep our identities; we would be con-demned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man's lonely heart, caught in its contradic-tions and equivocalities--a darkness which only the light shed over the public realm through the presence of others, who con-firm the identity between the one who promises and the one who. fulfils can dispel" (The Human Condition, Doubleday Anchor Books, p. 21B). Promise combines with forgiveness, as Miss Arendt sees it, to form the basis of morality. For "these moral pre-cepts [forgiveness and promise] arise . directly out of the will to live together with others., and thus they are like control mechanisms built into the very faculty to start new and unending processes" (p. 221). It is here also that she stresses the creative and life-sustaining force of forgiveness and promise. For if we could not forgive mis-takes and if we could not re-establish firm bonds through promise, then society would be trapped by the "law of mortality" and would steadily wind itself down to death. Forgiveness and promise together make newness con-stantly possible. And as such they are the foundations for the Christian view of life--faith and hope: faith that is fidelity to the convenant, and hope that is created both in this fidelity and in forgiveness. What is important, I think, about Miss Arendt's com-ments is that they place the taking and keeping of vows not in the context of what it can do for the individual but rather of how the taking of vows enters into the very bloodstream of human society. She speaks eloquently of promise as confronting the "darkness" of human exist-ence, of staving off "ruin and destruction," of the "mira-cle that saves the world." She also cites Nietzsche's com-ment that promise is the very distinction which marks off human from animal life. It is precisely to this larger context therefore that we must shift some of our discus-sion of religious vows. Far from being an anachronistic kind of slavery exercised by religious orders to maintain their survival, religious vows must be seen, in Miss Arendt's perspective, as an expression of man's striving not only for survival, but for dignity as well. To further emphasize this perspective, we must focus very precisely on the kind of promises religious make. It is not a promise to complete the transaction of a deal, to run a hospital, to cook forever, or just to do anything. It is a promise to be, and as such a deep commitment and trust. We can forgive someone who does not keep a prom-ise to do something, and we can perhaps survive in a society in which this failure to deliver is relatively fre-quent. But how much can we tolerate of a society that ¯ does not keep its promises to be? When people make great commitments of personal loyalty and then opt out in large numbers, what effect, we must ask, does this have on society at large? And when they go a step further, frequently in justification, and refuse promise at all, or make expressions of loyalty that are weak, decidedly ter-minal and often vague and open-ended, what, we must fnrther ask, effect does this have on society? Does it weaken the ties between men? Is this abandonment of covenant intensifying in a' way that has not occurred to us at all the increasing lack of trust and rising hostility in our society? Does it raise again on a new front, and per-haps the last one, the question: "~¥ho can you connt on?" I suggest that religious have a serious responsibility to raise these issues. They are perhaps the last people in the world in which the free offering of total loyalty has been taken for granted as a matter of policy. Because of this professed commitment, they have been witnessing some-thing to the world, namely, that it is possible to be loyal and trustworthy on a grand scale. They have advanced the ideals of mankind a great milestone. And now sud-denly they have reversed this witness, first in practice, now in theory. The anger and resentment, shock and frustration of many people over the vast exodus from vows, now settling into a flat cynicism, comes as no sur-prise. Religious cannot simply dismiss this anger and cy-nicism with the comment: "They'll get used to it." This may very well be the tragedy we can least afford~that men should get used to it. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 831 ¯ Perhaps then if there is any validity tO these questions another dimension must be added to the mission of reli-gious today. If, as Miss Arendt suggests, the power of making and keeping promises is our bulwark against chaos or repression, if, as Nietszche asserts, fidelity is what distinguishes us from animals, then the question of vows is not merel.y a question of the internal life of a particu-lar community or of individual religious. It is joined to the very issue of human survival. My suggestion, then, is that as religious weigh' the relevance of taking of not taking vows, of their leaving or dissolution, to the per-sonal fulfilment of the individual religious, they also seri-ously discuss again the impact this same taking or aban-doning of vows has for society at large. The problems of the individual religious in an institute that he or she feels is inhibiting or irrelevant or itself unfaithful to its own profession are real eno.ugh to us. They have preoccupied religious for the past several years. But what about this same religious in relationship to a world in which indi-viduals and groups are drifting further and further apart 'because of the decay of trust and faithfulness? Do not religious perhaps have a mission here too? Today most religious orders, in their renewal, are concerned about "going out to the ~orld," trying to be relevant. It would be most ironic, not to say tragic, if what the world most needs, trust and loyalty, were precisely what religious are s'o busily unpacking and heaving overboard. ]. Foster,~O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 832 KATHRYN LINDEMANN, O.P. Toward a Definition of "Communi " The problem. During the past few years there has been much debate among American religious concerning "community." "What is community?" and "What do you mean by community?" are two frequently heard ques-tions. This article does not attempt to totally resolve these questions since any further "total solutions" would only add to the present confusion. This paper does attempt to disentangle the discussion and to introduce clarifications which, will make resolu-tion possibl~. To this end it begins with a consideration of the present state of the issue. Then there is a non-po-lemic exposition of the meaning of "community" as found in current literature. Finally there is an indication of some still unanswered questions concerning "commun-ity" which seem important for continued progress toward a clear definition of "community." ¯ .4 first inquiry and a prol~ered solution. The fact that American religious are asking about "community" seems to indicate that they are aware of confusion and are seek-ing to remedy it. Confronted by this confusion, a normal query is: Why such a difficulty concerning "community"? One proffered solution has been to postulate something about the word itself~some attribute which defies defini-tion. "Community," like patriotism, becomes a Wittgen-steinian "slogan word" which is too ambiguous for defini-tion. Such a proposal is both logically unsound and a breeder of irrationality. If one analyzes it, one finds: 1. It accepts the generalization: "If x is a slogan word, then x precludes definition." 2. The postulation is then argued: since the definition of 'community' engenders much confusion, "com-munity" must be a slogan word. Since slogan words are indefinable, then "community" must be indefin-able. This is viciously circular. It assumes what it claims to ÷ Kathryn Linde-mann, O.P., lives at Mr. St. Mary Col-lege' in .,Newburgh, N.Y. 12550. VOLUME',29, '1970 . ~ ÷ ÷ Kathryn Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 834 prove. The statement of the generalization only acts as camouflage. If one wants to conclude that a slogan word is not definable, one cannot assume it is a slogan word because it is indefinable. In the practical order, the proposal leads to subjectiv: ism and a canonization of irrationality. If "community" is indefinable, then there is no procedure for discussing: what it is; what engenders it; what destroys it. Two indi-viduals have no way of ascertaining if they use the term with the same meaning. They are condemned to unknow-ing or subjectivism. Since rationality depends on com-monness, no rational procedures of discussion or decision are possible. Thus all those groups of American religious now committed to the conscious renewal of community can have no use for rationality in their endeavors. At best, community renewal needs to be relegated to some irrational force. A second proposal. The above is not the only possible explanation for the confusion concerning "community." There is also an explanatory avenue opened by the no-tion of the theory laden texture of terms. In Patterns of Discovery, Norman l~ussell Hanson explores the relation between theory and particular observations, facts, and terms. He contends that scientific observation, fact, and meaning are only possible within the context of a theory. Further, he holds that each of these three are theory determined. Thus, two men experiencing the same sense data of orange color patch moving upward through an orange tinted visual field at 6:50 a.m. Eastern Standard Time in Newburgh, New York, might observe two dif-ferent things. One operating in a Ptolemaic framework observes the sun rising. The other operating in a Coper-nican framework observes the earth turning. If each spoke of the "morning event," "morning event" would have, in a certain sense, a different meaning for each.1 Hanson often cites such theory determination of termi-nological meaning: If, in the blank pages of a next year's diary, we find the word 'fire' in the place reserved for St. Valentine's day, no action would suggest itself. Consider another man shouting 'Fire'; but now he is in uniform, hovering over a busy gun crew. Were we members of that crew, our response would be automatic . In other contexts 'fire' might herald a worker's dismissal, or the entrance of a Wagnerian soprano amid pyro-technics. It can signal a phase in the making of pottery, de-scribe how an actress reads her part, or designate some primi-tive rite . 'Fire' has, in each situation, a propositional force; it is shorthand for complex statements whose nature is clear from the contexts of utterance. We are not born able to recog-nize such contexts., for that we need education.2 X Norman Russell Hanson, Patterns o] Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1965), pp. 7-8. 2 Ibid., p. 63. And again: When the youngster says 'lightning and thunder' he prob-ably means 'flash and rumble.' Again, a lot may follow, but what follows for him is different from what follows for the meteorologist--for whom 'lightning and thunder' probably means 'electrical discharge and aerial disturbance.' 8 ~lpplication to the question of community. In order to see the relation of this theory laden texture of terms to the present confusion among American religious, one needs to know something of the recent intellectual his-tory of religious groups. Since 1949 there has been what Thomas Kuhn would call a "paradigm shift" in religious life.4 Any comparative study of congregational constitu-tions of 1949 and 1969, of the 1949 and 1969 issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, or of books dealing with the theory of religious life from that span of years, gives multitudinous evidence of this paradigm change. In this paradigm shift, the term "community" is one which has been strongly affected. It has moved from a peripheral to a central position and has acquired a new extension. This change in "community" cannot be considered in isolation from the total theory of religious life. The change in meaning actually occurred as a result of changes in other areas of the theoretic system. A change of perception concerning certain areas made for new ways of seeing many other areas. And as the whole theory changed, each specific term was affected. Having noted the theory-laden-texture of terms and the fact of paradigm change in religious life, one can now locate reasons for the present confusion concerning "com-munity." These reasons are embedded in two specific fea-tures of the theoretical change among American religious. First, the change has not been a single-stroke event. Sec-ond, the "new theory~' has not yet reached stasis. First, the change in the religious life paradigm has not been a single stroke event. It is a process event whose history can be mapped. See Figure I. Given Theory A (the paradigm at n) and the innovations (I . I5), one finds a transformation in theory during stages n+l. n+5. The first outlines of Theory B become evident at stage n+5. Most often, one thinks of the theory only at stage n (theory A) or stage n+5 (theory B) since at these stages the theory is in stasis. These two stages represent "para-digms" as Kuhn refers to them and the change from paradigm A to parad@n B is a "revolution" in the Kuhnian sense. It is a fact, however, and one at which ~ Ibid., p. 61. 'Thomas Kuhn, The Structure o] Scientific Revolutions (Chi-cago: University of Chicago, 1962), pp. 43ff. ÷ ÷ + "Community" VOLUME 29, :970 835 Theory elements oO OoOo oo\o o\ o o -o n n-'l-1 n÷2 n+3 n÷4 n-~-5 Figure ] 4. 4. 4- Kathryn Linde. mann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Kuhn hints several times, that the intermediary stages exist.5 Now, as is normal in the innovation and diffusion o[ ideas, all members o[ religious congregations do not ac-cept theoretic innovation or revision at the same rate.e Since the acceptance of theoretical innovations is not simultaneous and universal, different individuals within the total population o[ religious may be in different ~tages of theory revision at any given time (n+l. n+5). Since terms are theory determined, such members, being at different theoretic stages, mean different things by " com~munity." Since the dynamics of any change are seldom pondered at the same time as the change is occurring, given reli-gious are usually unaware of the specific theoretic stage they are in. Further, they may not realize that theirs is one stage in a process continuing toward a new paradigm and stasis.7 Thus, one has the situation in which individ-uals will notice that there .are apparent differences in meaning concerning "community" (or a number of other ~ Ibid., pp. 84-7, 89, 128-9. e Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations (New York: Free Press, 1968). ~Note, for example, the many expressions of conviction among religious that there will never again be a stasis in religious life or theory. terms such as prayer, apostolate, or common life) but will be at a loss to either: articulate the differences with any precision, or to explain the differences through an enun-ciation of the theory which determines their meanings. This is a major source of the confitsion concerning "com-munity" at the present time. . Second, it is not until a theory approaches stasis that all the relations among particular elements are enunci-ated with any precision. To the extent that this precision is absent, there is an inescapable vagueness about any term endemic to the theory. Most congregations have enunciated the major outlines of the new paradigm in their constitutions. Yet all refer to their constitutional documents as interim or experi-mental, and all expect to produce a more finished prod-uct in a few years. Congregations have built in a time span for working out the practical and theoretic interre-lations among various elements,s The new paradigm is not yet articulated with full precision, and so a certain vagueness concerning a key term such as "community" is inescapable. Until this full precision is reached, a certain confusion will remain in the meaning and use of "com-munity." Summary. The theory laden texture of terms proposal succeeds in answering the first query concerning the why of the present confusion about "community," whereas the indefinability proposal did not. This theory laden texture notion indicates a double source of confusion: the simul-taneous operation of multiple versions of theories within the groups and the lack of precision in the newest theory because it has not yet reached stasis. Having dealt with the first query, the study needs to move on to the next: "How is 'community' defined in the new paradigm among religious?" ~ What Is "Community"? Method. To avoid arguing some of the philosophical issues attendant upon "meaning," "definition," or "expli-cation" this paper will approach the problem a poste-riori. There will be an examination of the literature for religious to see what meaning is already established in relation to "community." From this information, there will be an attempt at precise definition or explication. The two paradigms. The general accounts of "com- S As established in Ecclesiae sanctae, au apostolic letter issued on August 6, 1966, by Pope Paul VI (reprinted iu REVIEW FOR REL~CIoUS, V. 25 (1966), pp. 939--70. ~The meaning of "community" in the old paradigm has re-ceived adequate treatment by sociologists, historians, and theo-logians. The elements of the new paradigm, however, have seldo~n been subject to collection and analysis. ÷ ÷ ÷ "Community" VOLUME 29, 1970 - 837 + ÷ ÷ Kath~ Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS munity" diverge gr~eatly between the old (1949) and the new (1969) paradigms of religious life. Since a contrast often helps specify a complicated term, a general account of "community" as it appears in each of these basic theo-ries is presented first. When one studies old constitutions, those in effect in the forties and fifties, one finds: 1. The term "community" is rarely used. 2. When it is used it is capitalized as a proper noun-- denoting a particular (person, place or thing). 3. It seems to have a non-personal, "thing-like" quality common to collective nouns used in the "otherness" of the third person. 4. Sometimes the word designates a local group, while at other times it refers to an entire group. In the lat-ter instances, one mentally substitutes the word, "Congregation" or "Institute," both of which occur far more frequently in these early documents. Point four seems to strike the terminological core, for the meaning of "community" is primarily that of a hier-archical organization. Almost every sentence utilizing the Word "community" would retain its meaning if "organi-zation" were substituted. Further, the literary structure of these constitutions of the forties and fifties seems domi-nated by the organizational model. They set out goals; they cite organizational procedures for attaining the goals; and they define each person in terms of her role in the organization. They state the duties of the role (posi-tion in the organization), the prerequisites for possessing this role (be it that of an ordinary member or an officer), and the privileges of the role. The documents join a second model to that of hierar-chical organization. There is an interpersonal ideal of a familial society which is most compatible with that of a hierarcical organizational model. Officers are compared to parent figures. As such they ought to give and receive love and concern in a way which officers of an organiza-tion usually do not. Thus, in a unified model of hierar-chical- organization-family one provides an ideal for the lived situation of religious life. Newer constitutions, those of the sixties, present dif-ferent features: 1. "Community" is a common word; it appears time after time. 2. In most documents there is a definite distinction between community-as-organization and communi-ty- as-people. 3. Most, at least implicitly, deny "community" of the hierarchical organization model. "Community" de-notes, a primary group with strong interpersonal ties. This interpersonal notion is often extended to the congregation-as-community or the larger, civic, community. Although texts vary, the following is typical: Religious life is a loving community of free consecrated persons, sharing their lives, their worship, their service and their celibacy. A distinctive mark of the religious life is to be found in the fact that this living of Christ's life, this witnessing to His values, is lived corporately?° The function of a religious community is twofold. The first is to provide the climate for its members to grow to full stature as free persons in an ever deepening union with Christ, and for the sake of His Kingdom to be available to serve individually and corporately the needs of men. The second is to present a threefold witness in the eyes of the persons it serves: a living witness to Christ and His values, a sacrament of Christ's continued presence among men, and a sign of hope that community, which is the only mode of existence proper to men, can be a reality?1 When one looks for a model to explain this use of "community," one tends toward the community of scholars or St. Paul's my.stical body model. Religious community is the union of equals through interpersonal relationships. Each individual gives some service to the group: the serv-ice of authority, of information, of support, and so forth. Further the community itself is situated in relation to other communities. Religious community is always seen as a microcosm of the larger community of the Church and as such the religious community has an intimate re-lation to the People of God (Church) and the world com-munity.~ 2 Distinction. in terminology. Hence forward this paper will speak of the general account of community as found in the 1949 paradigm as "community1" and that in the 1969 paradigm as "community2". At present few religious make such an explicit distinc-tion. A single term, "community," is used for both mean-ings, although some religious are beginning to say that although both are called "community" only the 1969 paradigm expresses real community. Toward a Definition of "Community2" The term. In analyzing the common use of "community,;', one finds a distinction clearly made be-tween "having community2" and "being a community,". The latter is a wider term which necessarily includes the former. 10Sisters of the Third Order of St. Dominic of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, Religious Lile: Lived Reality (Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1969), p. 4. n Ibid., p. 10. ~ Yves M. J. Congar, o.P., "The Theology of Religious Women," REv~w for RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 26. ÷ ÷ ÷ " ommunity" VOLUME 29, 1970 859 ÷ + + Kathryn Linde. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Having community,". The instances in which the term "having community2" is clearly applied reveal three nec-essary elements: a group of persons, united in sharing "goods," and either a resulting witness to Christian values or personal growth of some members. First, intuitions may indicate the last (witness or growth) as non-necessary, but when one discusses specific examples with members of religious congregations, one finds a hesitancy to apply "community2" to anything lack-ing a result in witness or personal growth. Confronted by an example exhibiting the first two characteristics of (1) a group and (2) sharing goods, which lacks, however, the third characteristic of witness or growth, members tend to say: "Maybe the witness or growth was really there but you didn't notice it"; or: "If there was no witness or growth you only thought you had community, but you really didn't." Hence this third characteristic is included as a necessary element for "having community2",is In pressing for precision, one finds that each of these characteristics is a term with its own range or extension: I. group of persons--extends to all persons united in groups, ranging from the smallest group of three to the largdst number so designatable. 2. sharing goods--extends to all goods, both internal and external, which can be shared by humans. In the context of "having community2" at least one internal good must be present, but any number of additional internal or external goods may be present also. 3. witness or personal growth extends to (1) all witness to Christian values and (2) all growth in personal maturity. "Having community2" is the term applied to the event which occurs when all three of these characteristics inter-sect. More formally. One may say that "x has community," if and only if: x is a group of persons; and there exists at least one y such that y is an internal good and x shares y; and either x gives witness to Christian values, or there is at least one z such that z is a member of the group's union in sharing and z grows in maturity as a result of this mem-bership. "Being a community2". When one examines the use of "being a community2" by religious, several crucial cases reveal themselves: 1. If a group "has community.o" frequently for several 18One is struck by the difficulty of making empirical observa-tions of personal growth or witness to othe,~. Yet this is how the term is used by religious. This study proposes to describe, to cite extension of terms, not to evaluate them as "true to reality," "false to reality," and so forth. weeks but then illness or work prohibits this "hav-ing community2" for awhile, no one denies the .group still is a community. All consider the non-hav-ang of community as a temporary condition which does not destroy the being-a-communi.ty of the group. On the othei: hand, all agree that an absence of "having community2" continued for a long enough period, would negate the gr9up's being a community. 2. If a group lives together for some time but shares little more than their domicile, no one designates them as "being a community2". 3. Groups experiencing two or three instances of in-tense "having-community2" are assigned a status of "being a community2" equivalent to other groups which have eight or nine experiences of community on a much lower level of intensity. To preserve these designations of being a community, this researcher proposes a function, C: frequency of having community X intensity of having communityt4 the total duration (or proposed duration) of the group All items having a C result of at least 0.3 are described as "being a community2". They fall in the extension of the tenn. Thus one can replace the externally vague term "being a community2" with the clearly defined one of "any x, where x is an item having a C function of at least 0.3." Some criticisms o[ the above analysis. There is much lacking in this whole analysis. This lack extends both to the theological and to the empirical dimensions of the discussion. First, theological aspects, for example, the cen-trality of Christ in community, are not explored in this rather philosophical approach. Yet these aspects are most important parts of the notion of community. Second, em-pirical aspects are incomplete. The method of finding the intensity of community noted in footnote 14 is inade-quate. Also, there have been no empirical studies to jus-tify, for example, the choice of 0.3 as the limit for "being a community2". Indeed, there is a lack of precise data for much of this discussion. The Task Remaining ÷+ American religious need to continue to explore this + notion of "community." They need to listen carefully to 1, The intensity of community is a function obtained by assign-ing positive integers to the elements contained in the range of each characteristic necessary for "having community.". The product of these integers indicates the level of intensity of "having com-munity.'. VOLUME 29, 1970 841 what others are saying about community and to note exactly where their statements agree and where they dif-fer. And when they find that they differ, religious need to be willing to continue the discussion. They need to find the reason for the differences. Sometimes it will be a false difference caused by incomplete communication of mean-ing. in other cases there may be a real difference. When religious reach the point of finding the exact differences, they are then keady to begin the honest dialogue common to every discipline which is alive and healthy. Out of such dialogue can come a truer understanding of '~com-munity" and perhaps a revitalization of their communal living. Perhaps, too, such dialogue will result in the reali-zation that although "community1" and "community2" have appeared as opposing theories, they are not antitheti-cal notions. They describe two different aspects of the same phenomenon. The above is an ambitious plan for religious. It is also difficult. Yet real analysis, the foe of polemic, is not only difficult it is very necessary. Emotivity makes poor theo-retic justification, and no theory can claim reasoned alle-giance if its advocates are not willing to utilize the pro-cessses of reason. Kathryn Lind¢- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS RICHARD M. McKEON, S.J. Retirement Policy for Religious With an increasing number of people enjoying a longer span of life many religious should be alert to the fact that they too will hit the retiring age before they realize it. Yes, retirement for older religious is finally being recognized formally. To many retirement will come as a shock. They will think that they have reached tlae end of the line and that they will drift rapidly into the hereafter. It is time that all religious orders wake up to this new problem. They must have programs to acquaint their older members with all facets of what retirement means. In this respect a great deal can be learned from the world of industry where programs have been in effect for many years. Later we shall discuss some of these and try to apply their wisdom to our older religious. Superiors who are formulating programs must face this issue squarely. Why should the accumulated experience and developed talent be lost to apostolic endeavors merely because a certain age for retirement is at hand? Here is capital which should be yielding dividends. If older religious are forced to coast along waiting for Ga-briel's horn to summon them to give an account of their stewardship, that accounting will be harder to make. Time has value. Time lost is never regained: "Some secrets of the well-rounded retired life are these: make the most of what you have; wherever you are, go with your whole heart; keep your eye on what's coming up, not on what's slipping by; play your role with comeliness; do not let the minutes rust away" (Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, December 1967). It is presumed after long years in religion one has a true sense of values. Before retirement each one should assess his own possibilities and plan to achieve new goals. Many opportunities will arise to afford an active life within one's mental and physical condition. What do older religious in good health want? They Richard McKeon, S.J., teaches at Le Moyne College; Syr-acuse, N.Y. 13214. VOLUME 29, 1970 8~5 ÷ R. M. McKeon; Sd. REVIEW FOR REI~?IOU~S want to remain active and to do good as long as possible; to utilize their special talents; to receive the same respect they commanded in middle age. Rightfully they expect the functional policies and the traditions of religious life to be practiced in their regard. The older religious must be convinced of being heart-edly in earnest in what he can still do. Discouragement and difficulties will be challenges. He must have a firm resolve to carry on. If he has a reputation for special gifts, rightly may he expect others to approach him. To quote the Talmud: "If you see a man of understanding, get you betimes to him, and let your foot wear out the steps of his door." At least once a year, usually during retreat, he should make an honest appraisal of himself: "How is my health? Have I checked with a doctor? Have I reviewed my work of the past year to see what I have done well? What mistakes .have been made? What are my plans for the coming year? Have I determined to keep my mind alert, to keep feeding my mind by study so as to contribute to my up-to-dateness and the germination of ideas?" Richard Butler, O.P., warns: "Those approaching old age should prepare themselves for the trial ahead by strengthening their faith, patching up the holes in their characters, stiffening their self-reliance, developing new and sustaining interests, discovering orientations of ac-tivity that will endure and will provide some amount of satisfaction for them" (America, November 19, 1966). Good ideas can be picked up from ordinary literature on retirement. For men and women who have been highly educated and employed in apostolic work it would be better to study what is going on in the field of indus-try and business. Special research studies on retirement have been made at the California Institute of Technology, the University of Michigan, and the University of Chicago. The Caltech report suggests "a model program and a variety of ways in which it can be adapted to different company situa-tions." These studies are recommended to religious orders which are preparing programs. A digest of the program at Esso will afford some help-ful suggestions. First, changes in life expectancy are ex-plained. Then it tells how millions in the over 65 age group are non-productive but still consumers. In a word, when a worker retires, he is no longer productive to the country, profitable to the company, and useful to himself. Compulsory retirement is explained together with the benefits offered through social security and pensions. But more accent is placed on the sociological problem--how the retiree can be active, fruitful, and constructive. Esso offers help and counsel to each worker to think through his new situation. The company "feels that retirement is something earned by faithful service, a form of 'graduation' into a new phase of life rather than a 'casting out' process. Re-tirement should be the opportunity for the employee to enjoy the fruits of his labors in freedom, leisure and relaxation as well as an opportunity to serve himself, his family and his community in ways not open to him dur-ing his working career." A year before the set date group discussions are held covering topics such as health, planning for the future, what has been done, and so on. Plenty of appropriate literature is available. Each prospective retiree is pre-sented with a copy of How to Retire and Enjoy It by Ray Giles (McGraw-Hill). The Wall Street Journal frequently publishes articles on how retired executives keep busy, Their prime motiva-tion is not to make money for themselves, but to help others in trouble. Although some go into real estate and others start small businesses, many of the best become consultants as a challenging occupation. They form com-panies to give their specialized skills to small firms which need professional advice. The Mohawk Development Service of Schenectady, New York, has an excellent record of over twenty-five years. It is composed of former General Electric Company executives who have pooled their talent and experience. At Wilmington, Delaware, a similar group of Du Pont managers is engaged in a variety of projects. Charles H. Kellstadt retired as chairman of Sears, Roe-buck in 1962. At 72 in 1970 he is chairman and president of the General Development Corporation, one of Flori-da's largest land companies. He took over when things were in very bad shape. Today the corporation is most prosperous. His goal is to do a $250-million business a year. Religious orders should become a, cquainted with the International Executive Service Corps. Here is a magnifi-cent contribution which American executives are making in helping developing nations to help themselves. Its work should inspire qualified older religious to do some-thing similar to aid the foreign missions. The ISEC is a non-profit organization with headquar-ters in New York. It sends seasoned executives to counsel companies in the poorer lands. There is no salary but travel and living expenses are assured. Within the past five years a total of 1244 projects have been successfully completed in 45 countries. Optimism and the challenge of difficult problems have ÷ ÷ ÷ R. M. McKeon, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 846 given these men a new interest in life. They work with the native managers, not over them. Their know-how is eagerly sought. Using tact and patience they guide local managers to realize their own great potential Helping others to help themselves, who in turn will help thou-sands more, is certainly a high type of social action. Sylvia Porter in her column for December 16, 1969 paid tribute to the IESC and then put the question which might be put to older religious: "Why couldn't the con-cept be brought back home so that men and women in this age bracket work as volunteers in the ghetto and rural poverty areas of our own land?'" Our religious could make a great contribution here. "Life is only exciting when you are contributing in the mainstream." Keeping in mind what retired executives have done, let us make application to religious. First of all, those who have been superiors for a long time are still human. With a fair record of successful management, there is danger that many will regard themselves as indispensable. Every undertaker will contradict this statement. They have bur-ied too many. But to former superiors retirement does come as a shock. In industry it is maintained that compulsory retire-ment is the only way to clear out executive deadwood. Many of us know that it is a very touchy to mention possible retirement to an old superior: "Top manage-ment generally considers the subject as unmentionable as bereavement." Older religious might take a hint from the remark of a wise judge: "Retirement implies at least part of the motive power must originate in the person whose status is to be changed. Children are put to bed---adults retire." They should also remember that once the tension of their past job is over, arteriosclerosis might hit them with a stroke. Older religious should find comfort of mind if they have done their work faithfully in the past. As the time for retirement approaches, there should be no real repug-nance in letting quaIified younger people take over. If those in authority had signaled out men with executive ability and given them opportunity for training, there would be less trouble. Let us be blunt. Formerly, older people were respected, their advice was sought for, younger folk delighted to learn of their experiences. No longer in positions of au-thority, they soon find they are being ignored. Take a retiree who is removed from apostolic action which domi-nated his past life. Now assign him to a house for retirees as has been suggested. His health is still good. His mind is alert. But there is nothing to challenge it. He begins to feel unwanted, morose, and he gradually loses interest in things with which he was formerly associated. In such a state of mind death is bound to come more rapidly. In many universities and colleges religious teachers must retire when they reach the same age as set for lay teachers. Without a proper program they may be placed in isolation, as just noted, with no demand for their services. Edward F. Heenan, S.J., has written that many religious groups "have been increasingly enticed to adopt the bureaucratic business model in an effort to more effectively operationalize their goals." Retirement need not mean the end of the road. It should be accepted as a challenge. It means an awareness of the personal ability of the religious to perform, to continue .productively, and to make older life worth the living for one's self and others. Longfellow has put this Challenge attractively: For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. In the past a religious, like any other active person, got recognition and identity for the work he was doing. He could possess a just pride in his accomplishments. By the same token, when he does special work as a retiree, he should receive due praise. Many religious are truly hum-ble. Nevertheless all men appreciate recognition for any job well done. It does boost morale. On the other hand, there is the problem of rejection. To feel rejected, especially by those with whom one was closely associated, often causes a heavy strain on the nerves. It can easily make an older religious irritable and upset his health. We maintain it is a fatal mistake to put a healthy, older religious in a home for retirees. It will depress him. With nothing to challenge a once busy person he will rapidly decline in health, mental and physical. For example, if a religious has been at a college for the past ten or more years before retirement age, then we hold there is really a moral obligation to keep him as a member of the community as long as his health holds up. Why? Because to separate him from the familiar atmos-phere where he knows his fellow religious and they know him, from his friends on the faculty and from people in the local community would be dreadful in its conse-quences. It is here that he can continue to do more good than elsewhere: "Familiar things and places are priceless as we grow older--make no mistake about that." Dr. Edmund V. Cowdry, Washington University, St. Louis, an authority on gerontology, states: "More impor-tant than any other single factor is the old person's need Retirement VOLUME 29, 1970 for a community of interests. Nature seems to have or-dained that those who abdicate from life socially will soon abdicate from life physically." Where should there be a better community of interests than in the house where the religious has been living for years? Father Heenan remarks: "The closer the community approaches the communal idea of integrating and providing for the needs of every member, the more successful the aging process." A bureaucracy might be more efficient but it would tend to depersonalize and estrange the members. A mature religious should know that leisure for pleas-ure's sake alone will not bring happiness. But there is that approved pleasure which comes from doing good to others, especially the less fortunate. Instead of the deceits of idleness there can be a modified form of asceticism. There can be early rising with sincere attention to reli-gious duties. Planning for and being prudently busy with the needs of others will improve health. Two qualities will help the retirees: "They do enthusiastically .what-ever they are doing, and they get deepdown joy out of very simple things." Accordingly it is very foolish to think that retirement means the cessation of activities and merely a vegetating process. Retirement should be dynamic. One must beware of tyrannical trifles which can enslave. Too much televi-sion with its many insipid programs can mark a mental decline. In the 1955 Governor's Conference on the Aging in New York it was held that "religion is the key to a happy old age because man is essentially a spiritual and social bbing. The aged turn to religion even if they have been lax in their youth." What, then, Of men and women dedicated to God, who now have the time and conveni-ence to make up for past neglect because of distraction in the workingday world? There can be a renewal of spirit-ual life and a practice of reparation to gain grace to face bravely the reality of their new status. Since Vatican Council II changes in training have been made to meet the needs of younger religious. They have been very frank about what they need to be effective in a challenging new world. By the same token, older reli-gious should be outspoken in presenting their needs and claims. That is why at the young age of seventy-three I am writing this defense. R. M. McKeon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELI{;IOUS 848 SISTER DOROTHY COONS, B.V.M. Life Style Study: Convent Li g This study of the pattern of religious living as it is carried out in the various convents of the Sisters of Char-ity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was undertaken as a part of a series of such studies of modern religious living that have been made in the past five years (see l~vmw for I~LIG~OUS, March 1970). The instrument used was constructed by Sister Cather-ine Leonard with the help of the other members of the Commission on Experimentation and Research, espe-cially Sister Helen Thompson and Sister Mary Kenneth Keller. The latter was responsible for processing the data on the computer. Questions Examined Four major questions gave direction to this study: To what extent do the sisters living in the traditional con-vent life style feel that this is providing them with necessary support in community living? What are the topics of concern in these convents? ¯ To what extent is there satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the life style, and what changes would be desirable in the cases where there is dissatisfaction? What are some of the general characteristics of the local communities in the areas of common liturgical experiences, in living arrangements, and in financial arrangements? Group Studied The questionnaires were sent to approximately 1800 sisters living in 153 convents. Those living in apartments and the patients in Marian Hall were not included. A total of almost 1300 sisters from 151 convents responded. According to the number of years in the congregation, the respondents fell into the following categories: ÷ Sister Dorothy Coom, BN.M., is chairman of [BVM] Commission on Ex-perimentation and Research at Clarke College; Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 29, 1970' 849 Years in the Congregstion Number Percent 0-4 23 1.7 6.6 10-19 953 19.6 20-29 231 17.9 30-39 273 21.2 Over 40 415 32.1 $i~t~r D~rothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 850 This distribution is similar to that of the entire congre-gation with the exception of the oldest group who num-ber approximately 42% of the total. To a lesser degree the groups in the 5-10+ years differ from the general distri-bution because it is in these age groups that most of those living in apartments fall. In 49 of the 151 houses 100% of the sisters living there responded; 136 houses sent responses from more than half of the sisters; 15 houses were represented by less than half; and two did not return any of the questionnaires. Support in Community Provided by Convent Life Style Certain items on the questionnaire were included to bring out the general characteristics of "community," es-pecially those which provide mutual support for those living together. These questions and the results for both the congregation as a whole and when subdivided accord-ing to years in the congregation are given in Table I. While there are differences in the percentage responses to the positive questions, on the whole they are clearly above the 50% levels, ranging from 91.3% agreement with "Sisters seem concerned for one another" to 73.9% agreement with "Sisters like to be together" and "Com-munication among the sisters in our house is good." There is a similar picture shown by the disagreement with such negative items as "Money is a source of ten-sion" and "Communi.ty life suffers because the sisters are out doing other things." There is a surprising degree of agreement on the items that reflect a supportive atmos-phere among the various age groups. Figure 1, for exam-ple, shows that there is a high degree of agreement among all age categories on the item, "Communication is good," and that the disagreement is slightly higher among those in the 5-9 and 10-19 year group. There is also a slightly higher rate of disagreement on the part of the sisters in the 5-9 years in the congregation on the item: "Sisters plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," as shown in Figure 2. On the other hand, one of the most significant items, "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," shows fairly uniform agree-ment and disagreement in all age groups. See Figure 3. On a somewhat similar item: "Sisters like to be together," the pattern of responses is different. See Figure 4. + + + % 100 75 50 25 0 [] Agree [] Disagree O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 1. Communication is Eood. % 100 75 5O 25 O, 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 2. Sisters plan to-gether. % lOO 75 50 25 o 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 3. Sisters seem con-cerned for one another. % lOOI 75 5O 25 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 4. Sisters like to be together. + + + Sister Dorothy REVIEW.FOR RELIGIOUS 852 The two items that would ideally be answered by disa-greement, "Money is a source of tension," and "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other.things," showed unexpected results. The similarity of the results for both agreement and disagreement as shown in Figure 5 suggests that, at least among those responding to the questionnaire, money is not the prob-lem that it is generally thought to be. Figure 6 shows a higher percentage of agreement on the item, "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other things," among the older age groups. While this might have been expected, the actual difference is not as great as could have been predicted. Topics of Concern It was hoped that areas of concern could be identified by the items that are frequently topics of discussion. These were found to cover the whole range of those sug-gested, with the following results according to frequency: % 100 75 5O 25 0 % 1 O0I 75' O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Years in the Community Figure 5. Money is a source of tension. Figure 6. Community life suffers because sisters are out so often doing other things. religious life (72%), world news (68%), house problems (68%), the Church (67%), problems of the larger BVM congregation (67%), students and their families (57%), peace and war (56%), and U.S. political issues (53%). Others were indicated as being topics of discussion by fewer than half of the respondents, with hair and clothes being in lower positions than the items of general con-cern in the world, in the country, and in the congrega-tion. Satisfaction and Dissatisfaction The question, "Given your preference, and the absence of any practical consideration that would require other-wise, would you continue to live next year under the same life style," was answered "Yes" by 947 sisters (73%) and "No" by 259 or 20%. Those who answered "No" were asked to check the form of living that they would prefer and the item most often checked was "More regu-lar daily schedule of prayer and house activity." This preference was indicated by. 138 or 10.7% of those an-swering, while the second highest condition checked was "With persons who are more congenial." The results of this section of the questionnaire were broken down in a comparison with the items that were thought to reflect "community" and the results seemed somewhat indefinite. In general, those who would prefer to remain in the same life style had higher "Agree" scores on the positive items and lower "Disagree" scores on those that were negative, and the opposite was true of those who wished to change life styles. For example, on the question, "Communication among the sisters is good," of those who would remain in the same life style, 77% agreed to the statement and 12% disagreed, while among those who would change to another life style 36% -I. + + VOLUME 29, 1970 853 ÷ .÷ ÷ Sister Dorothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 854 agreed to the statement and 54% disagreed. There were similar combinations of "agreement" and "disagreement" in the breakdowns of this item with "The sisters often plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," and "Sisters in the house seem ~o like to be together." It is not clear to what extent these differences provide explanations for the desire to change life styles. There may be other explanations not touched upon by tl~is study. Characteristics of Local Communities Part I of the instrument was completed by the Com-munity Representative in each of the convents. No pat-tern of common prayer and liturgical experiences emerged. This might be due to the large number of un-answered items and to uncertainty in interpreting them. The most frequently checked item was "Celebration of the Eucharist" but the range of responses suggests that there were different interpretations to the question; for example, 25 Community Representatives checked "Sel-dom or never." This seems to indicate that there was uncertainty about whether it meant convent chapel or parish church, fora response of 100% daily celebration the Eucharist might have been expected. The rosary is still recited daily in 48 houses with an indication in 24 of them that most of the sisters attend. Vespers is said daily in 43 houses with 23 reporting that most attend. The changing pattern of prayer in the congregation is shown in Table II. Responses on the items concerning financial arrange-ments show the greatest possible variation in meeting most of the ordinary expenses. The sources include com-mon funds, personal stipend, parish, and school, and there were few items that did not fall into each of these. See Table III for items that are included, for the most part, in the three most general categories. Discussion--Interpretative Summary The study of the foregoing material and other details that were not included in the present report seem to provide a message of encouragement. It is evident that those who answered this questionnaire are, in large meas-ure, content in the convent living life style and that they feel their living situation provides them with the condi-tions for personal support that are necessary for Christian community living. A further reason for encouragement lies in the fact that, with few exceptions in the 5-19 year groups, there is no marked disagreement among the var-ious age groups in the congregation. Examination of the results of individual convents TABLE II Frequency and Attendance of Rosary and of Communal Prayer as Reported by Comraunity Representatives k,- Occ~-[Se)do=/ ~ost ~ ] Pew "__._~_~" ~ '_____~_~ s ionMl~y N eve_~_r A tten~ A tten~ 2tte2d Communal Prayerl~l~l~[~l~l~[- ~ TABLE III Methods of Meeting Ordinary Expenses as Shown by Responses of Community Representatives Common Fund Personal Stipend Both Common Fund and Personal Stipend Board/room Per capita Cook Mass stipends Gifts Insurance Spiritual reading books Household expenses Education Medical and dental Clothing Personal travel Entertainment Toll/long dis-tance telephone calls Non-prescription drugs Home visits Memberships/dues Refreshments other than meals Books other than spir-itual Carfare Use of car Professional travel showed great variation in tendencies toward general posi-tive and negative impressions. At this time, no definite score for rati

Issue 20.2 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; JOHN B. WAIN, M.D. Psychological Problems in Religious Life In the religious press it is becoming more common to find articles on the psychological problems of the dedi-cated life, but itis unusual to read any contributions from doctors. As one who has been privileged to associate closely with religious and to care for them over many years, this writer feels that his observations may be of some use to the great army of admirable, holy, an_.d well balanced priests, brothers, and sisters when they have to help the small but important group of priests and religious who suffer from nervous disorders. The layman gains the im-pression that psychological difficulties are some of the greatest problems which religious have to face; indeed, unspoken misgivings about this matter may be partly re-sponsible for the shortage of vocations. This may operate in two ways. Parents are willing to let their children face martyrdom at the hands of the pagans, but they have their reservations about the unnecessary crosses to be taken up daily in the community or in the rectory, Children who have suffered injustice from a neurotic teacher will eschew the risk of joining that order or congregat.ion when they grow up. The price of retaining one such maladjusted person in the community without giving him the proper care and attention might be the loss of twenty vocations from among successive classes of pupils and the estrange-ment of an equal number of tentative converts. As a starting point for discussion on the matter, two broad generalisations will be offered. First, there is too much neurosis among religious. Second, much of it is avoidable or preventible. These are merely clinical im-pressions. It is impossible to assess accurately the incidence of nervous disease in any group or nationality; neverthe-less, confirmation of the above two ideas can be easily found in conversations with Catholic doctors and'religious nurses. All such persons agree about the existence of neu-÷ ÷ John B. Wain, M.D., is a ph},sician with man.}, years of experience m treating men and women religious. VOLUME 20~ 1961 8! 4. 4. 4. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 82 rosis among religious men and women. One doctor who visits a man's religious institution of thirty members states that in the weekly sick parade there, there are always at least ten with inconsequential complaints. It is a fair observation to say that every community, however small, has at least one neurotic problem to deal with. This situation is most unsatisfactory. The energies of the supe-rior are dissipated in managing the misfit, and the unity of the community is endangered. The saddest task for the doctor is to institute .psychiatric treatment for one who has suffered a nervous breakdown in Christ's service. Sometimes these patients are nursed along for years for fear that their state may reflect badly on the order's way of life. This may be so, but it is a disastrous policy to delay seeking psychiatric help in the hope that the dis-order will remit spontaneously. Sister M. William Kelley1 in a unique article has given the incidence of hospitalized mental illness among re-ligious sisters in the United States. Her paper was notable for its courage in facing up to the problem and for the fact that the main religious mental hospitals refused to cooperate with her in the investigation. This unwilling-ness to submit the problem to discussion is not uncommon, even though such discussion would be productive of great good. The truth cannot harm us. Sister William found that, when compared with women in secular life, religious suffered from a higher incidence of psychotic (particularly schizophrenic) and psychoneurotic disorders, even though because of prior selection they have less mental deficiency, and chronic brain syndromes. She concluded that pre-psychotic personalities may be attracted to the religious life on the basis of what they think it will do for their un-satisfied desires and that the increase of mental disorder among active religious may be due to factors of stress such as overcrowded classes and understaffed hospitals. Two suggestions are made by the present writer for the prophylaxis of this state of affairs. More~importance should be given to p~ychological matters in the selection of seminarians, postulants, and novices; and there could be a systematic reduction in factors causing nervous stress in the lives of professed religious. A common impression is that many of these psychiatric patients enter religion without adequate psychological assessment, Often the family history of mental disease is ignored, or the personal history of previous nervous br2akdown is not taken seri-ously enough. These should be serious contraindications to acceptance, although it must be admitted that Blot ¯ Sister M. William Kelley, I.H,M., "The Incidence of Hospitalized, Mental Illness among Religious Sisters in. the United States," The American Journal of Psychiatry, 115 (i958-1959), 72-75. and Galimard2 give the impression that such unsuitable candidates may sgm_etimes-be,considered for religioys life. - . - It should n~t l~e too difficult to introduce some f~)rm of " psychological testing for all applicants to seminaries.and to religious life. The Califoi'nia ~'~gt of "Mental' ~V~ity;_ the DifferentialApti.tude Test, or the He.nmqn-Nelson test. could be used to gauge general intelligence, while.,~ per~" son~ality profile of the applican.ts.c, ou_ld be achieved by,:~he use of the Edwards PersOnal. Prgference Schedule,~ the Guilford-Zimmerman Temp.eram~enL Survey, _or t,he Mid-_ nesota.Per.sonality Scale. These tests can be .proctored by" persons.with no special tra_i~nin~g alth,0ugh the~,i~erpreta; tion of them should be en~.tr, u~ted to.some0ne with training in, psychology. When" these tests mncover a, Oos's'ib~, sig-nificant_ area Qf defect in the appl!cant, he can be refer.red, to a competent psycho~logis~.fo.r further examination be-fore he is accepted by the seminary or rellgaous lnsutute. Masters and mistre.sse, s of novices should have some specialized tr~fining in psychologiEal work so that they. can recognize early the sy.mptoms, of maladjustment and dismiss such subjects from the community b~'fore they disturb its peace and b'~lance. O~n~ common type. w~ may be mistakenly admitted-is ~the girl ~ho stays on at the convent boardin~school until.the age of nineteen or twenty, unable to make up her-mihd ab6ut°the. future.i This is a serious form of. immaturity,.wh~ose progn6sis, in religign, is poor. The admission~ of youths and girls the age of" sixteen also involves the°risk bf, ac~eptii~g vo-cations which, are_ based.on~,immature co~ncep, ts, while late entrants tend to.be too.,, independent to acce.pt.religi~ous,. obedience. -. ,~,o , - - Much could be done.to reduce the psych,olo.gical stresses which are not an integral par, t. of religious life, the .m. o~,t potent weapon being the fosterin~ of a warm pa#~nta,.1 love between superiors and subjects. Accepting poverty,'chas-~ tity, obedience, and the in'es~apable difficulties d~ common~ life involves sufficient.sacrifice without creating ar'fificial' burdens. In. Oiscu~.s!ng~ .~eligi0tis vows, even-in a st~irit of humility, the doctor ,strays outside his specialty; ~bu~ the mtenuon here ~slto point out thexr medxcal repercus: sion~ in mentally disturbed p~ople. Pov~r~y,, ig iiaainly spirit/aM "concept of defachm~nt° from ear~h'l~ ~hxuri~ but not- the denial of the basic necessftids of-life. Religious. should lead a life-of.lfrugal' omfort,~not one 6f.pehur, y, hunger, and.,privati~;n i~aless~h~ seek these as%specifiC, penances.St. Therese of Lisieuxost.ated that h~r mare cross in the convent was bearing the cold, an indictment of.'tl~e insufficient heating. She died Of t(~berculosis at the ~geof. twent~-foui', when the hot, salt blood welled u'p i~i'to i;i"e~ ~ Ren~ Blot. M.D. and Pierre G~limard, M.D., Medicid Guide to Vocations (Westminister: Newman, 1955). 4. Psychological Problems " VOLUME 20, 196~. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 84 mouth~"she was happy to think how soon she would be in heaven. For her it was a saintly death; for her superior it was a comment" on the neglect of the community's health. St. Berhadette also suffered hardships in the convent and died of the same disease at thirty-five. Even now tuber-culosis is a risk for all young people in religion. Is it pos-sible that the vow of poverty has been misapplied? Chastity is the glory of the religious life and nothing can be done to make its acceptance any easier, but efforts should be made to eliminate false standards of purity which degenerate into prudery and unreasonable con-cepts of modesty. Gynecological complaints are often suffered'.for years before medical advice is sought, and maligfl~ant tumors are not reported until they are in-operable. The fact that some religious are not permitted to attend the reception of the sacrament of matrimony is a relic of Jansenism which may give offence to lay people and connotes false apprehensions about the nature of religious chastity. The kingdom of heaven suffers violence and only the violent can bear it away. Those who do violence to their own natures by taking religious vows must expect some repercussions, but these lose some of their force if they are discussed with frankness, tact, and objectivity. The deprivation of the consolations of married love and of childbearing mugt affect sisters particularly; as a result of this inner conflict between natural instincts and the ideals of the religious life, some may unwittingly suffer a suc-cession of functional, as distinct from organic, illnesses. Atypical ~ase will find that she is becoming irritable and depressed; she finds her daily work an intolerable bur- ° den and her sisters' foibles which she previously ignored b~cbme opl~ressive to her. She loses her appetite, becomes thin, sleeps badly, and has palpitations and chest pains suggestive of heart disease. She may have to accept stronger temptations against purity. This is reminiscent of the yceriasriss o wf mhiacrhri emd alinfey, ams ahrarsi abgeeens peoxipn~etr_ie~ndc~ eo uatf tbeyr Labecoluetr ctqe.n8 At this stage in life the first long struggle is over, the couple have rea~he~l financial stability, and' the difficult years of having several babies in tie house have passed. Both partners see the first ~vidences of age, and, realizing that degenerative diseases will start"~within another decade, some will desperately seek the excitement of youth. They must face temptations to ihfidelity, pride, and avarice. In religion some experience a similar crisis. After ten years they reach a stage of achievement and the gecurity that comes from seniority, but they find that youth has im- 8Jacques Leclercq, Marriage a Great Sacrament (Fresno: ~,cademy Library Guild, 1953). perceptibly~ slipped ~away and' they ask themselves if their vocation is really the right way of life. If they can hold on bravely with the assistance of prayer and the syinph-thetic undergtanding of an enlightened superior, they will pass through the storm ~nto the calm and contentment of a well integrated religious life. The menopause brings the game stresses as it does for lay women, and sisters should be advised to expect~ hot flushes, headaches, irritability, and depressions. Many of 'these symptoms can be helped by treatment. Younger sisters can be reassur.ed about the problems of dysmenor-rhoea, and premenstrual, tension. It is probably not uncommon for religious and lay people to experiencd sexual feelings at the quiet_ times of recollecuon anffat commumon. Thxs was referred to'w~th characteristic delica.cy., by St. Te,resa. of Avila when asked for advice on the matter' by hdr brother Rodrigo who was making his first steps~'in the mystical lif$. She implied that she also. had experienced t6~sefe~lings but that th~y disappeared when they were ignqred. "In God's design the happiness of the married life must be a pale shadow of the ecstas~ of the mystical Union~oand similar physiologi~M reactions accompany each. If these factg are uriderstood, there will be less distress for gqddlbeople who liave th~se otherwise d.is.turbing e~pe~iences. Obedience presents so many problems that the only unfailing guides are the'vi'rt~es of prudence and ~ha~ity. It is a necessary vow l~c~use only an austere':discipllne can lead to the full development of the strong personality which will accept sacrifices and will persevere in the re-ligiou~ vocatidn. It is falsely applied, however, if it de: stroys a sense of personal responsibility and initiative and if the command seems'to be an insult to the human dignity Of the subj~.kt. The essence of obedience is the surrender of the will; it is impgssible to surrender the intellect. It is unfortunate that an ekample of Obedience commonly quoted is that of St. Francis of Assisi who planted cabbages upside down. The saint is to be admired but not necessarily emulated. A young novice saw his master of novices scattering his carefully swept rubbish about the yard. When taked with untidiness, his acciden-tally acquired knowledge enabled him to accept the rebuke with apparent humility. If he had protested, his future in religion might have been prejudiced. It should be pos-sible to test virtue without having recourse to methods involving injustice, untruth; or deviations from the rule of charity. The end result of imposing an unre'asonable obedience is the fostering of immaturity in subjects and the formation of a type of religious who is almost inca-pable of making simple decision's or arranging anything outside the narrow cgmpass of his daily life. This is what 4, PPsryocbhloel~ongsical VOLUME 20, 1961 85 ÷ ÷ ÷ John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOU$ 86 irreverent clerics refei: to as "holy helplessness." The re-ligious life should ensourage the flowering of the com-plete personality in imitation of Christ and our Lady; it s ould produce'cultured.men and women, full of grace, strength, and inner peace. In this connection it is often stated that in religion men find their personalities while women lose theirs. Why should there be this difference? Many avoidable burdens arise from an undue rigidity of ttfe rule. A certain flexibility is desirable to adapt European customs to hfe ~n~ other geographical areas and-to make allowance for the changes of circumstances that" characterize the twentieth century. A sister I kno~ was unable to read the Confessions of St. Augustine be-cause the rule forbade taking books'from the public li-brary. This typ.e of r~striction exposes religious life t6 ridi-cule. Neither would the dignity of sisters suffer if they were to eat in public and to travel alone. There are certain physiological norms which the average "i~erson must bbey; accordingly, it should be the rule for mgst religious to have a minimum of seven hours sleep and not to work for more than twelve hours a d.ay ~(including in this the time necessary for the proper fulfilment of the prescribed religious and spiritual exer'cises of each da~). ~When recreation is tak.en, some relaxation of the artifi- 'ciality which has obtained in the past would do much good and would not harm the spirit of the 6rder or congrega-tion. Particular friendships ha,~e tr~ditionaliy been pro-scribed, bht this should not exclude those i~atural affinities which are felt by compatible personalities. These if fos-tered are a great consolation" to the parties and would not destroy the unity of the group, nor would they develop into a sinister relationship. Our Lord Himself encouraged a close friendship with St. John. , With the exception of enclosed 9rd~ers, ~ome reasonable access of parents to children "c'ould.~ well be encouraged, especially in times of illness oOr death. A regulation whereby a religious may not go to his~own parent's fun.eral, but may go to anyone else's, could well be rescinded. A1- "though the habit is only a small a~pect of cbnventual life, -somre lessons can;be drawn fro~a.]t. While possessing a certain antique charm, it is indicht~ive. ,of an orientation towards the past; and to those outside thd Ch~:~rch it sug-gests that the wearers do n_ot face up to and take part in modern life. The other n0t_able f~& is tha( the request of Pope Plus XII for modernisation of the habit fell to a grea{ extent upon deaf ears. Apart from some minor ad-justments which are obvious only to the initiate, the dress is unchanged. This is largely because of the innate con; servatism of women and the fakul.{y of fiabituat]o~n;o eact one thinks that members o,f every o.ther community a.nd the Salvation Army~look absurd. The times call for re-jection of the whole concept of what a religious habit should be and the deyelopment of a new dress. Just as clerics have rightly abandoned tonsure, so the cutting of the hair of religious~r~men could be restricted to a token or symbolical gesture, find the headdress discarded. Some nursing sisters with covered' ears are almost unable, to take blood pressure r.eadings Or t'6" i]]te~ to the fetal "l~eart. "Dur-ing the recent war priests in the armed services did not suffer loss of dignity fr6m adopting officer's dress; on the other hand, the pri,est workers"went too far in their adap-tation. In the stress of mc~dern living regular alternation of activity and rest is necessary; therefore annual holidays should be provided for. Only very wooden personalities can go bn for years withoiat variation in their routine of life. Much of the stress of the religious life results from at-tenipting to do too much, working too long, and being sent out on active duties with insufficient training. The Sister Formation Conferences"aim to correct this latter undesir-able trend. Al-though it may cause a temporary shortage of persorinE1, it mustpay dividends in the long run. The laborers have been too few since Christ first uttered th~se words, butrushing r~ligious through their training will not solve the eternal problem. The Church has tradi- (ionally been a bad employer, and the worst sufferers have been religious themselves. Their services are so valuable that they should have better welfare services than other employers progide. In this corine'ction it is both amusing and instructive to recall St. Teresa's chiding 6ur Lord for her misfortunes: "Is it any Wonder, Lord, that You have so few friends when people see h6w badly you treat ~tour chosen ones!" The beneficent influence of good art, even on unsophis-ticated rrlinds, is rarely ~u~ilized; it is common to see a poor standard of iriterior decoration, and pictorial art in convents and rectories, even though church architecture has advanced to a gratifying degree. A reasonable access to secular literfiture would not be harmful if it broadens the experience of religious and gives them some wider a~- preciation of the problems their pupils must face when they leave school. Those assigned to menial tasks should have some e'asily attainable goals arranged for them so that their spirits will not be crushed by monotony and by the lack of any evidence of achievement. ~uperiors have :the additional, worry of finance, ad-ministratiofi, and personnel management, for which they have Usually received no training. With only native common serise as a guide, they must learn with a trial and error method. One way to lift this secular burden would be to provide experienced lay advisers so" that the superior, could concentrate on his apostolate; this would, o~ course, involve som~ surrender of autonomy. A common error is to attribute fieurotic behavior to ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Problems VOLUME 20, 1961 '4. '4. ,4. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 88 a poor spiritual life~ and by that same token to expect that a more intense spiritual life'wilL cure a neurosis. A teaching brother was seen to change from a happy, agree-able person to one who was morose, withdrawn, and sus-picious. He went 'to the sacraments only infrequently and was given to outbursts of anger with his pupils. He was advised oto pray more, but this was expecting a miracle from grace. His main need was for .psychiatric treatment, which disclosed that his father had died in circumstances which he had always suspected were suicidal. He found himself having strange compulsive feelings when he looked out 'of high windows, and then he became scrupulous about matters of purity which he would normally have ignored. In the dark night of his soul, he felt abandoned by God and his community. With proper psychotherapy he recovered. Is this problem worth making a fuss about? Some would say that the status quo should be preserved; that the trials of religious life are the crosses which God in-tends for these souls; that He chooses the weak and foolish things of this world to confound the wise; that, according to Thurston,4 many of the saints and stigmatics were neurotics; that the command of the superior is God's will for the subject; and that in his handling of the prob-lems of his community the superior is given the grace of st.ate.All these arguments imply that infallibility is a widely diffused gift instead of a very limited one. In ac-cepting everything as God's will, people rarely draw,the distinction between His direct will and His permissive will, and therefore they do not admit that there can be mistakes or blunders in religious decisions. Is it impertinent for the layman to speak when he has no firsthand knowledge of religious life? In the spiritual health of the Mystical Body the layman is vitally con-cerned; moreover he is looking ahead to the welfare of his own children if and when they perceive a calling to enter religion. An investigation into the religious psy chological environment on a diocesan basis would produce fruitful results, but it would have to be undertaken a~ a cathartic exercise. The best religious, whose opinions, would be of the greatest value, are the very ones who l would count it a virtue to remain silent and unco.mplain-~ ing. How to integrate democratic processes into an author-I itarian governing structure is a difficult problem. C0nsid-I eration of all these factors influencing mental stabilityI renews our admiration for the great numbers of altruistici men and women who gaily sacrifice so many of the goodl things of life to make the total gift of themselves to God.I ~Herbert Thurston, s.J., The Physical Phenomena o! Mysticism (Chicago: Regnery, 1952). HENRY WILLMERING, SiJ. Charles Felix Van Q ickenborne "Father Charles van Quickenborne," writes Father Peter de Smet, "was the first Jesuit priest who appeared in the valley of the Misissippi after the reestablishment of the Society of Jesus. He was a.man full of zeal.for the salva-tion of souls. The conversion of the Indians w~as, impar-ticular; 'the object of his predilection and of his prayers. Long will his name be held in benediction, and his mem-ory celebrated in the places which h;id the happiness of receiving the fruits of his numerous labors,, and of his truly apostolic virtues." This commendation is from the pen of one of the seven novices who accompanied Father van Quickenborne to Missouri in 1823 to establish the nucleus of the Society of Jesus in the Middle West. Two years before, Peterde Smet and six Companions left their' native Belgium secretly to becomemissionaries to the Indians in North America. For this purpose they entered the Society in October, 1821, at Whitemarsh, Maryland, where shortly before Father van Quickenborne had been appointed master of novices. Unforeseen circumstances brought the group to the Indian country before their period of.probation was completed. The Right Reverend Louis Dubourg, bishop of' New Orleans and Upper Louisiana, had many'Indian tribes residing in his vast diocese, and he was anxiously seeking for missionaries to convert them. The success of the Jesuits in this work before the suppression of the Society prompted him to appeal to the Father General of the Society for ;help. He made a like appeal to the Superior of the Maryland mission and offered as an inducement the gift of a large, productive farm not far from the growing city of St. Louis. With the scanty number of available priests at their disposal, it seemed impossible to promise the bishop any help in the near future. Then Divine Providence intervened. In 1823 the finan, cial difficulties of every house" in the Maryland mission ÷ ÷ The Reverend Henry Willmering, Associate Editor of the REVIEW is stationed at St. Mary'S College, St. Marys~ Kansas. ~ VOLUME 20, 1961 89 REVIEWFORRELIGIOUS became so acute that the superior and his consultors seriously considered clo~ing the Whitemarsh novitiate and dismissing the novices. When told of this decision, Father van Quickenborne reminded the superior of Bishop Du-bourg's offer and of the readiness of himself and his novices to go to the Indian territory and work for the conversion of the natives. Accordingly, a concordat was entered into between the Bishop of New Orleans and Father Charles Neale, Supe_rior of the Maryland Province, to establish a novitiate of the Society at Florissant, Missouri, on condi-tion that, after the no,~i~es finished their spiritual and theological training, they would devote themselves to the apostolate of the Indians. The exodus from Whitemarsh was in the spring of 1823. The party consisted of two priests, seven novices, three lay-brothers, and three families of negro slaves. Two wagons carried the baggage across, the mountains to Wheeling on the. Ohio River. The young mi_ssionaries made the journey on foot across the Alleghenies. In Wheel- Ang they procured two flat boats; on one of them they placed the negroes and baggage, while the other served them as their 'floating.monastery.' They-drifted down the river day and night, stopping only to procure provisions. Religious exercises were. continued during the voyage as circumstances allowed. At Louisville, Kentucky, they landed their baggage, and a local pilot directed their craft over the falls of the river. At the foot of the falls they re-embarked and continued their river trip as far as, Shawnee-town, Illinois, Thence the missionaries made the last 150 miles through swamp land on foot, while a river,s_teamer carried ~their baggage, upstream to St. Louis, where they arrived on the last day of May. The entire trip lasted ,fifty days. " o The-homestead, which they were to inhabit on the, out- ,skirts of the village of Florissant, was a wretched log cabin, with a single room, measuring sixteen by eighteen feet, arid surmounted by a gable roof, so low that one could' not stand erect in,the attic beneath it. At a short distance from the house were ~two sheds, one had served as a pig pen/the other as a tool shed. The newcomers ~ere a bit disap-pointed, to find such primitive quarters, and the hardships encountered during the first few months"proved to,, be too great.for one novice andoaqay-brother~ who left during the summer of 1823. The others adapted themselves to the situation in a truly religious and missionary spirit.,The six noyices and two lay-brothers slept on the floor of the attic, while the single, room below was divided by a cur-tain, ,one side .being reserved as. the domestic chapel, the other as the living room for the priests. The.first shed was by turns study hall, classroom and r~fectory; the second served as kitchen and domicile for the negroes. ,, Much greater~ would .have been~the discomfort of.the Jesuit ,~communit'y had not Divine Providence assisted them through the generosity of~,Blessed Philippine Du-chesne and:her community. °The Religious of the Sacred ,Heart had moved to'Flonssant tliree years earher?~where they condudted a small boarding schbol.Often they de; prived themselves of what little they had to send it to:their neighbors. Furnithre, bedding, cooking utensils~.and~pro-visions were generously offered to the' Fathers and novices during the~,first~evere wifiter. ' "~ To relieve the acfite housing problem, the Jesuits ~be-gan work.immediately by collectin~building'ma_terials. Stone wag procured from a nearby quai-ry, timber,was cut and shaped, and when Ml,was ready a.,second.story, and spacious annex were added to the house. Ttiese hard~,and continuous .activities h~ever interrupted the ~spirituab ex-ercisEs. of the novitiate; but the.cold weather.and frequent snow storms put. a stop~to,~the labor till spring. Tl~e new additions were completed in June, and~ after thednterior ~had been remodelled, life became more bearable. . . -'Th( leader and guiding spirit of~this enterprise was a man,thirty-five years of age. Charles Felix_van Quicken-borne was,born in the village of Peteghem,'twelve miles w~st'of Ghent, on January 21;, 1788. His first studieswere made in Deynze; "then he attended the academy in Ghent, and finally entered the diocesan seminary in thatl city. From the first h.i~ talents and application~merited high praise. He was ordainedto the priesthood in 1812, and was appointed to teach the classics in the preparatory semi-nary of Roeselare: When, shortly after, Napoleon,,closed allthe seminaries in:F.tafiders and drhfted the stu'dents of military age, Father .Charles Was appointed vicar of the large ~Zalloon parish',of St. Denijs near Coutrais. Being guided by the wise counsels of the sain~tly dean, Frans Corselis, whose virtues he often-ext011ed, to'his novices,in later.years, Father Charles, administered the parish .@ith great success, and,the peopl~e were sorry to, see him resign his charge in.order-to enter the newly opened. Jesuit novitiate at Rumbeke. He arrived there on April 14, 1815. A hostile Dutch govei'nment drove the novice~from "this quiet retreat shortly after, but they were" given shelter by'the highly esteemed Bishop of Ghent, Maurice de Broglie, who placed his episcopal.residence at DistOlber-gen, on the outskitts of Ghent, at their disposal; and there Father Charles finished his two years 6f probation.:~He pronounced his first .vows as a Jesuit in April, A817 . ' Having read the account of .the Reductions of Paraguay, the'young Jesuit~ was eager to go to North America and de-vote his life to the conversion of- the Indians/Even as a novice he begged Father General, Thaddaeus';Brz0zoW-ski, for this~mission. Instead he was assigned~to teach othe Henry W il imering, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 92 classics in th~ academy~of Roesalare, which appointment he received with resignation to the divine will. Then, un-expectedly, he was given permission to go to America. He. lost no time in making his preparations, and during the last week of October, 1817, he set sail for the United States and arrived, in. Baltimore towards the end of December. His first year in America was spent learning English at Georgetown College. Then came the appointment as master of novices. We can imagine with what trepidation he assumed this responsible office, he who but two years before had completed his own novitiate. He realized.fully his inexperience and knew that he was better fitted to do missionary work. But once again he resigned himself to God's will and trusted that help from above would not be wanting to him. In November, 1819, the novices were moved from Georgetown to Whitemarsh, Maryland. There, in addition to being novice master, Father Charles was the superior of the community, manager of a large plantation and of the negroes who worked it, missionary to the surrounding communities, carpenter, mason and builder. He erected a handsome stone church on the no-vitiate grounds and built a brick church at Annap01is, At the latter place, he said Mass every fortnight. He was known to visit regularly the sick and poor of the vicinity and devoted considerable time to the instruction of the negroes. For a while he attended to these multiple duties alone, but later he received a faithful helper in the person of Father~ Peter Timmermans, also a Belgian, and a most amiable and humble priest. He came to America with Father Charles Nerinckx in 1817, and entered the Society of, J~sus that same year. Father Peter took charge of the novices whenever Father Charles went on. one of his many missionary expeditions. In 1821, Father Nerinckx re-turned after a second trip to Eurbpe with another group of Belgian students, seven of whom entered the Society at Whitemarsh, and were the group who migrated to Floris-sant, where they pronounced their first vows on October 10, 1823. On finishihg the novitiate, they immediately began the study of.philosophy. One of their number, Peter Ver-haegen, had nearly completed all his seminary studies at Mechlin before coming to America. Accordingly he was appointed to assist Father van Quickenborne as instructor. Due to a lack of textbooks, the course in philosophy was rather superficial and was brought to a close with a public disputation in August, 1824. Two months earlier, on Mgy 31, Father Peter Timmer-marts died. This left Father Charles as the only priest at the Florissant mission. The multiple duties he had taken upon himself at Whitemarsh were again thrust upon him. Here, ~too, he was superior of the.community, chaplain and confessor for the,Religious of the Sacred0Heart, pastor of foti~ parishes, those of Florissant, St. Charles, Dardenne and Portage des Sioux, instructor of philosophy, manager of a large farm, and buildSr:"N0 wonder that~ h~ was prostrated by repeated spells of sickness. 'Yet he never spared himself, and when duty called, he went out, no matter how bad he felt. Many urgent calls for help were sent to Rome and Maryland; yet it was only after a year and five months, when the superior was near death,~ that help came in the .person of Father Theodore de Theux. In October, 1824, the scholastics began the study, of theology. The superior .had no choice but to appoint~ Peter Verhaegen instructor of dogma, and John Elet in-, structor of Sacred Scripture, while he reserved for himself, the courses in moral and pastoral theology. Needless to say, this arrangement was very :unsatisfactory to all con-cerned. After the arrival of Father de ~heux, matters im-proved a little since he took over the courses.in dogma and scripture. The first to be ordained, early-in 1826, were John Baptist Smedts and Peter Verhaegen. The following year the superior of Maryland visited the mission, where he held a comprehensive examination of all the candidates in theology, after which the remaining four were ordained just before the Christmas: holid_ays, in 1827, by Bishop Joseph Rosati, in the church at Florissant. The last period of a Jesuit's training, the third year of probation, wa_s made by all during the first half of 1828. On the eighth.of January they began the thirty day retreat under the direction of Father van Quickenborne who, in the peculiar circumstances, was~both tertian and tertian master. The retreat closed on February 7, and a few days later each tertian was assigned to give ,a retreat, a mis-sion, or take charge of a parish for one month. On their return .to Florissant, Father, Charles explained the Con-stitutions of.the Society, commented on the decrees of gen-eral congregations, and pointed out the approved methods of giving the Spiritual Exercises. One of the tertians praised very highly the quality and practical nature of these instructions. The tertianship ended on July.31, feast of St. Ignatius Loyola. Meanwhile, their purpose in coming to the West was by no means forgotten. True, the promise to send mission-armies to the Indian country within two years could not be kept, due partially at least to the untimely death of Father Timmermans, and more particularly to the fact that no additional priests came from Europe or Ma.ryland. A be-ginning, however, was made-when in 1824 Father Charles opened a school for Indian boys and Mother Duchesne started one for Indian girls. These two schools continued for a period of nearly seven years, and the progress made Fan O.uidumborne VOLUME 20, 1'961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Henry Wilimering, SJ. R~:VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by the pupils~in Jearning :and piety merited favorable comments from visitors and also from :the Indiafi agents. But when' the pupils ,returned.to their tr.ibes; the.y wer~e deprived of all 'spiritual help and were' exposed to the superstitions and immorality' of (heir, people, and thus~ much of the ti'ainingo received at school was lost, To forestall this~'danger, Father Charles formulated a~ plan, patterned on the famous Reductions'of. Paraguay, of establishing Catholic Indian villages. Congress would be asked to appropriate a sum that would buy six thousand acres of land on the. outskirts of an Indian' settlement. Boys who graduated from 'the Jesuit school should' marry girls trained by the nuns. These couples would be given house and farm in the proposed village. The Indian agent should furnish the agricultural implements. One or two missionaries would live in the viIlage,' and care for the spiritual needs but al'so supervise the work done. The plan was approved by the president, but not by' Congress; so it was never realized b~ Father van Quickenborne. . .The failure of the Indian schools discouraged a number of the community, but not Father van Quickenborne, nor Father de Smet, Father Charles made two exploratory visits to the Indian country, the first in 1827; the second in the following year. On these journeys he addressed a num-ber of Osage and Iowa chiefs, baptized many infants, and made inquiries about starting missions among their peo-ple. When he ~found them favorable to his plans, he promised to send them. priests in the near future. He was eager to undertake the establishment of the~first mission himself, but another event intervehed whith thr'eatehed to delay the ope_ning of a.permanent Indihn mission for several years to come. -'o. Bishop Dubourg had opened a college in St. Louis 'in 1818, which had: a~ver~ precarious existence. No sooner had the Jesuits arrived in Missouri than an offer was made to'them to staff"the college; yet, until the six schoiastics were 6rdairied, this.was out of the question: In 1826 this college held its last session. At this point Bishop gosati; who had befriended the community gt Fl'orissant' from the start, again" urged that a new college be built and managed by the Jesuits, for which purpose' he offered ~a suitable plot of ~round just outside the city;' which had been donated to the bishop by Jeremiah Connors. As soon" as Father van Quiekenborne obtained permission from Rome,~ he started :building; and even before the structure was completed,' classes opened .on' November '2, 1829~ Father Verhae~e'n was appointed the first president, who with ~two other Fathers and afew externs (aughtten~ boarders .and thirty day scholars; but~within a few weeks' gime, the boarders increased "to thirty a~id the day scholars to 6ne hundred and twenty; During th6 first two years, the courses offered were those of a grammar school: In 1830,~.a course in Latin was added, and in 1832,.one in Greek. Father van Quickenborne _taught the Latin clas.s, Father de Theux, the Greek. When,the faculty was re-inforced by several priests and sc~holastics from :.Maryland, the school _quickly reached college lev~el, and in 1832, Father Verhaegen obtained,°by special act of the.Missouri legislature, a~ charter for the school un.der the title of 'St. Louis University,' with all the rights and prerogatives of a university. According to the terms of the concordat,of 1823, the Jesuits of Florissant were entrusted with the spiritual care of all Catholic families living in ce.ntral and northeastern Missouri. In 1828, Father Verreydt °was assign~ed, to. this work, which he carried.out witti~exemplary zeal. But.~n 1.830, Father van Quickenborne was~succeeded as superior of. the Missouri mission by Father de Theux; and' for the first time Father Charles seemed free to~ carry out his favorite project, to start a permanent mission among the Indians. Instead, he was told to take over Father Verreydt's missionary work. The reason for this is given by Father Garraghan, in The Jesuits o[ the Middle West: "The truth is that ~good Father van Quickenborne,' as his .Jesuit associat_es were fond of characterizing him, was a difficult_ person with whom towork. His zeal was boundless, with much about it of the heroic; his devotion to the cause of the In_dians, unflagging; , his personal piety, obvious to all;,but along with his in certain respects surpassing equipment as a missionary went limitations of temperament that unfitted him in,many ways to work successfully by the side of others. In° the social virtues he was often d%ficient. Silent, secretive, depressed and often gloomy in countenance, with a tendency to melancholy, despising personal com-forts an.d refusing them to others, difficult and exacting in business relations, not inviting confidence and, seldom winning it, he stood in many ways isolated from his fellow workers, a somewhat lonelyfigure in tl~e little Jesuit world in which he moved.''1 So great was his desire for living with. the Indians, and so persistent his'requests to his superiors, that finally in 1836:he was permitted to open a mission among the Kicka-poo. The previous summer he had made an :exploratory~ visit to the ~various tribes living nearest~the western bor-o ders of Missouriand0had come to the conclusion that the Kickapoo were the most eager., to embrace Christianity. In the fall,.he journeyed to Washington and contacted the 3ecretary of War, Lewis Cass, who authorized himto start 1 Gilbert J~ Garr~aghan, S.J., The Jesuit~ "of the Middle Unite~l $tates (New York: Anierica Press, 1938), Vol. I, p. 384. Van ~/~,o~ VOLUME 20, 1961 95 ÷ ÷ ÷ Henry Willmering, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 96 a~school among the Kickapoo and promised a subsidy of $500 a year to maintain it. After making a begging tour the 'East, which netted about $1500, Father Charles was ready to open a mission a few miles above Fort Leaven-worth. He was assisted in this project by Father Christian Hoecken, and three lay-brothers, Andrew Mazella, Ed-mund Barry, and George Miles. The missionaries met with a cordial reception from the chiefs and people. A French trader, who lived with the tribe, put his house at their disposal, until they should build their own. Hardly had they settled down in their new quarters, when both priests were stricken with ill-ness. Father Charles had to stay in bed for a month. Worse yet, the Indian agent, Richard Cummings, would not permit' the Jesuits to build in the Kickapoo village. Not until General Clark sent word from St. Louis that permission had been given by Secretary Lewis Cass build ~a school among the Kickapoo, could the Jesuits erect a school, chapel, and residence. The head chief of the tribe, Pashishi, professed great eagerness to have the missionaries instruct the children and work for the conversion of his people. His influence, however; was considerably less than that of a notorious 'prophet,' named Kennekuk, who claimed to have received authority from the Great Spirit tostart a religion of own. For a while he manifested some interest in the teach-ings of Christianity but soon roused his followers to un-friendly demonstrations. He had so firm a hold on the minds of his people that once he took a hostile attitude toward the Jesuit missionaries, all hope of converting the tribe vanished. Two years of unremitting toil made very little impression on the Kickapoo, and neighboring tribes were so eager to have the missionaries teach their children that the former mission was abandoned and new one opened among the Pottawatomi, which proved eminently successful. But Father van Quickenborne was destined to have no part in it. His failing health and rigid disposition caused his superior to recall him in July, 1837. After a brief stay at St. Louis University, he went to Florissant to make his annual retreat. Next he proceeded to St. Charles and thence to Portage des Sioux, a village situated a few miles, north of St. Charles and near the junction of the Missouri~ and Mississippi rivers. Here he exchanged places with Father Verreydt, who went to the Indian country, while Father Charles became pastoy of this small parish. He had been only a few days in Portage when a bilious fever seized him. The last sacraments were administered to him, and on August 17, 1837, he breathed his last. His body, ac-companied by many parishioners, was interred in the cemetery in St. Charles but was later removed to the novitiate cemetery in Florissant. Father van Quickenborne was in a true sense a pioneer missionary, who labored zealously during fourteen years for the spiritual interests of both whites and Indians. Those who knew him intimately comment on his clear and orderly mind, his fluency in several languages, his accurate knowledge of theology, his eloquent discourses. He never spared himself in his efforts to assist others, and despite the rigorous attitude he at times assumed towards others, he was loved and admired by all who knew him. Since he trained the first members of the Missouri mission all by himself, he can justly be called the founder of the Jesuit establishments in the Midwest. The mission which he started became a vice-province in 1840, a province in 1863, which was divided into two provinces in 1928, and both: were again subdivided in 1955. These four provinces today have a total membership of more than 2500. They administer seven universities, ten colleges, twelve high schools, and eight retreat houses, and there are more than three hundred members in foreign mission work. John Gilmary Shea, the great historian of the North American missions, says: "To Father van Quickenborne, as founder of the vice-province of Missouri and its Indian missions, too little honor has been paid. His name is al-most unknown, ~yet few have contributed more to the edification of the white and the civilization of the red man, to the sanctification of all.''~ ~John Gilmary Shea, History o] the Catholic Missions among the Indian Tribes o] the United States, 1529-1854 (New York: Edward -Dunigan and Brother, 1855), p. 466. + + + ~'an Qugckenbome VOLUME 20, 1961 97 JOHN E. BECKER,S. J. We Have Seen His Glory: The Prologue to St. John ÷ ÷ .÷ John E. Becker, S.J., St. Mary's Colleg.e, St. Marys, Kansas, ~s an assistant editor of the REVtEW. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98 In the beginning God created, heaven and earth In the beginning was the Word God's immense knowledge includes within itself His own infinite nature and all of the reality which He has given us and with which He surrounds us. Yet it is but one eternal and unchanging truth in God's mind. And when-ever He speaks, He speaks that one truth, Himself. But it is impossible for God to speak this immense truth, in the simple way He understands it, to our poor time-bound minds. We cannot grasp things in simplicity. We need more than to hear a truth. We need to be taught it, to have our minds brought up to it, educated to it. This is true of each of us individually. Over and over, we must be told the truths about God. We must be taught them at each point in our growth. Finally they begin to dawn for us in our minds as our own secure convictions. But the education that we as individuals go through depends upon another education which is just as impor-tant, and without which we ourselves would never have learned ab6ut God. This bther education is the education of our race, the race of men. We have learned many things about nature, but we have learned them together, the giants of the past teaching the giants of today, and they in their turn handing on their knowledge to tomorrow's giants. Our knowledge is passed on in ever-increasing rich-ness from generation to generation. Simply the mere pass-ing it on occupies many thousands of men and women for whole lifetimes as teachers, and the learning of it fills all the years of our lives, in school and out. This need man has to be educated through centuries of time is a part of him that he cannot escape. The great- est genius can only teach men what their minds have been prepared to grasp. And God, who made us this way, ~must speak to us, too, and teach us in tl~e gradual way that He has made necessary to us. So His divine revelation is a progressing and developing education of the human race. It bridges over the immense gap .between our time-bound and intricate minds and God's timeless simplicity. By His own choice He speaks eternal and immense thoughts to us in fragments communicated throughout time and space. It is a lesson in God's fatherly care for us to know that He has done it with such infinite and careful patience. How has He done it? Among a chosen people at the beginning of the story of our salvation, He planted,a seed of a thought: "In the beginning.God created heaven and earth." The thought is the thought of the one God who made all things. And these people fought and died, sub fered, rejected the truth, and repented through centuries: of history to pres.erve that seed and foster its growth. And through centuries God builds on this tiny germ of truth, constantly stretching the faith of His people by new reve-lations, always prep~aring them to accept the full flowering. of .that seed in~ the great, final revelation of Himself that will take place in the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Then, when the fullness of revelation had come down to the earth and walked it, a~s a Divine Person, God inspired St. John to begin the record of this marvelous event with a magnificent poetic vision showiiag us how God had~been patient all these years, patiently teaching, correcting; educating, stretching faith to accept this cli-mactic revelation of the immense truth about God. By beginning his gospel with the ancient words of the book of Genesis, St. John shows us that through all these cen-turies of revelation God has spoken but one sentence. And though his gospel is to be a record of new and ultimate revelations.made by Christ our Lord, still how careful St; John is to show us that each new truth that appears is really nothing new or changed about God. Rather, it is a new insight and a richer knowledge of that immense and inexhaustible reality which is the one God who begins His Sacred Scripture and who brings it to an end. In the beginning was the Wor, d And the Word was with God And He was God, this Word He was at the beginning with God How did God go about this marvelous education of the Jews? How did He prepare them, and what was it He pre- ~a~ed them to accept? We have alw~iys known that throtig~ those long years of threats and tender promises God nurs~ed in them the knowledge that He was One, the God ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to St. lohn VOLUME 20, 1961 99 + + ÷ gohn E. Becket, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]oo of all nations, the God that had no rival gods. But there: was more to His teaching about Himself than this. We had to know more than His oneness, or we could never ap-preciate the redemption by which He was to save us. We had to be able to accept the reality of Another, alsoGod, the same God, in order to recognize the infinite love that God would show in coming to be one of us. Even in the Old Testament God was preparing us to accept the su-preme mystery of the most Blessed Trinity. Over centuries of time God prepared mankind, with hints and mysterious intimations, to accept this other per-son. First, He taught His people the Law. But He taught it in such a way that it became for them, under the guid-ance of their inspired teachers, more than just a rule of life. They thought more and more of the Law as another being, ordering and governing the whole universe, some-how existing in its own right. God's inspired writers spoke too of Wisdom; and again His people, receiving with faith the guidance which God gave them through their teachers, began to think of this divine Wisdom as something distinct from God, sent by Him upon the earth: "The Lord possessed me. in the beginning of his ways. I was set up from eternity., the depths were not as yet, and I was already conceived. Wisdom is with thee, which knoweth thy works. All wisdom is from the Lord God, and hath been always with him. I came out of the mouth of the most High. From the beginning and before the world, was I created . " In two texts of Scrip-tures especially we can see how God led His inspired writ-ers toward the culminating simplicity of St. John's revela-tion of the Word: "While all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, thy almighty Word leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne, as a fierce conqueror into the midst of the land of destruc-tion. With a sharp sword carrying thy unfeigned com-mandment, and he stood and filled all things with death, and standing on the earth reached even to heaven"(Wis 18:14-16). And even closer to the full clarity of St. John was this from Isaiah: "As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and return no more thither, but soak the earth, ~tnd water it and make it to spring., so shall my Word be, which shall go forth from my mouth: it shall not return to me void, but it shall do whatsoever I please, and shall prosper in the things for which I sent it" (55:10). Our Lord's life on earth took place during an age of intense religious uncertainty and desperate religious quest. But it is strangely enough true that almost every groping philosophy of the time centered around a principle called the Word. It was almosta magic formula. To the Stoic it meant the mind of God whose strong sunlight was divided into little sparks which were the minds of individual men. To Philo, a Jewish gentile philosopher, it was a person who pervaded all God's activity, and all the creatures of God's activity. To all the philosophers it was the one principle of order in the chaQs o~f. the world.~ Of, course, the Jews knew that God had made all creation by His mere word. God's ~word had always been an infinitely powerful thing in their minds. Now when St. John calls Christ our Lord the Word, he proves the validity of God's long and careful education of the human race toward faith,in the Word of God. It is a sad and fr_ightening realization for all of us that so maony of God's,chosen race failed to respond with the faith God had so carefully prepared" them for. In a probing vision of faith, St. John realized that the pagans with their philosophies Of the Word meant, if they could but see it, Christ;. that the Jews with their devotion to the Law, to Wisdom, to God's almighty word, had been educated to know the eternal Word. Because of this deep insight of supernatural faith, the abstract, eternal, and unchanging i'eality demanded by the minds of the pagan philosophers and the concrete, changing, and temporal reality forced upon their senses were reconciled into one truth. St. John's gospel stands alone for seeing the eternity, the infinity,, the timeless immensity of God walking in the finite flesh of our Lord. The single human actions of His life are put into a story in which we can also see that these are eternal ac.tions, of eternal worth, universal and eternal in mean- .ing. All history becomes in this vision not so much a thing of time but a phase of eternity. We see through the lens of an inspired faith that human life takes place in more than material dimensions. Christ's daily life is the eternal God teaching by action the eternal truths in the tiny dimen-sions of time. Our life becomes, in spite of its abrupt be-ginning and abrupt end, an eternally rewarded effort to learn and put into practice these eternal truths. Through the lens of this vision we see that the impor-tant beginning of this history of salvation was not in time, was not on a hillside of Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Calvary. The real beginning of the life story of Christ our Lord and of the life of man in God was not His.virginal conception, nor His birth in a cave, nor His baptism at the Jordan, but eternity with God: He was in the beginning with God. Everything was made by Him, And without Him was made nothing. Even when we recognize that the beginning of our sal-vation is back in the far reaches of divine eternity, in the Word who was with God, and even when we see that God has been preparing us for centuries to accept this fact, we 4. + + Prologue to St. John VOLUME 20, 1961 10] John E. Becket, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS have yet to appreciate how intimate a part this divine Word has played in the very creation of our world, and even in the divine education which wehave received. God fixed His eye on the eternal Word as He spoke the words of creation. All God's creatures were ordered according the Word's divine ordination: All the laws of their were made on the pattern of the Word. This is much the case that when we study the divine order creation, the laws of molecular structure, of the develop-ment of phyla, its supremely rich but ordered abundance, we are studying the natural phrases and sentences of God's eternal Word. Without Him was made nothing; nothing escapes His ordering power not even the man who sins. We would think that the sinner, having deliberately stepped outside this divine order, would have lost the privilege of participating in the guidance of God. though we may sin, we cannot step aside from God. The original sin of Adam and all that sequel of human which ratifies that original disorder sewn in our nature Adam, furnishes but the occasion for the Word of God be spoken ag~iin. Through Him all 'things were made. Now, on account of sin, He is spoken in a new way that binds Him even more intimately to his now sinful crea-tion, for: That.which was made in Him was li[e, And the life was the light of men, And the light, in the shadows, shown, And the shadows did not put it out. As once all things were created by the Word, now a new thing is created in Him: That which was made in Him life. Man has sinned, and so the Word becomes the source of a new life for him: and the life was the light of men. The Word is not renewed. The old is not revived. But the Word is respoken in a new creation that more fully ex-presses it. Men find in Him now, not only the pattern their existence and their perfection, but the source of new life, a life which always existed for God, which was once given to them and lost, but which now exists again a reality for them. And the light, in the shadows, shown, and the shadows did not put it out. This new life which a light for men wins the Victory over man's darkness. We can follow th~se-threads of life, light, and darkness throughout the gospel of St. John. They are dominant colors in his message. God has'outdone His first gift us, natural created life, made by His Word, with a super-natural creation, with .a supernatural life also produced, but in His Word.~Adam's sin,made our human life shadowy life of undirected uncertainty and groping. Think of the vague yearnings of the Jewish people, and they were under the educating guidance of God; even' more, think of the pathetic religious foolishness of the pa.gan world whose nature religions could never free themselves from the orgiastic worship of the sex power. But our world, lost in the shadows of sin, is not lost to God. Rather than destroy,.it and' produce ~a n.ew, un-shadowed, sinless world through His Word, God builds a new life for us within the lost world. We live now in the Word. We find only one meaning of lile in St. John; the life of God communicated to men. Christ our Lord com-municated God's life to us by becoming one of us and remaining God. That is the story of St. John's gospel, of all the gospels. Christ assumed humanity to be able to suffer for our redemption, to be able to produce a new life for men. The flow of Divine Life which He injects into us is also, because of His teaching about God, a stream of light within us, who would otherwise be' groping in darkness toward an unknown deity. He has shown us clearly who the God is whom we must seek. And so the shadows on our uncertain consciences are dispelled, and we find ourselves on a clear road towards God, filled with confidence. Our human nature has been taken into the divinity, and God has produced for us there within Himself the new life which saves us from darkness and sin. There is no poem in English with such compleie sim-plicity of expression. Yet in these five verses we have dis-covered the whole history of God's dealings with us. They present us with an immense, vision which extends from the first moment of creation, through the Incarnation, to the end of time when men living in Christ will be gathered to Christ in the fullness of life. The whole history of our race is involved, yet we see it all from the vantage point of God'.soeternity and catch sight of what it means to call God's knowledge infinitely simple. It is all one eternal speaking of the Word by God: It first bears fruit in the creation of our material world; then in a new act of union with this world a new life is produced in it; this new life of supernatural union with God is finally to conduct us all to our final union with God in heaven for et.ernity. In this vision of faith, all history is a moment of eternity, a moment containing creation, divine union with man, and man's final reunion with God in eternity. There appeared a man sent [rom God: his name was John. He came [or a witness, to witness concerning the Light, so that all might believe through Him. He was not, this man, the Light, but [or a witness con-cerning the Light. Christ's precursor is but a man, rooted in the obvious dimensions of human time. He "is not near the stature of Christ. He happens, he appears; Christ is. He is not ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to St. ]oh.n VOLUME 20, 1961, 103 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]04 the light but only its witness. This brief, blunt, and prosaic interposition of a man within' our vision of eternity is an admonition to us, and a sign to us of the way St. John views reality. This simple prose in the midst of the poetry of eternity reminds us that we are never to let the human reality and the divine reality become separated in our minds. The life of Christ has fused the two for all eternity, and St. John is writing the story of that life. The simple historical surroundings and activities of Christ's life are making history, yet they go beyond history. The time-bound precursor of Christ is, by the decree of God, an eternally necessary, eternally important actor in God's redemptive drama. He is a sign to us that we too are eternally important, because we live with the life of the eternal Word. He was the true Light, Who enlightens every man Coming into the world. First there was God and the Word; then it is clear to us that the Word is God. The two are one. After all things are made through the Word, then supernatural Life is made in the Word, and this life is Light for men. Now again we reflect and realize that all these truths are drawn together into one truth in God. Life and Light, that which is produced in the Word, is really the Word; and the Word is God Himself, the source and goal of all our human life, natural and supernatural, the source and full enlightenment of all our knowledge, natural and su-pernatural. How does God, the Word, who is Life and Light in Himself become life and light for us? By coming into the world. We are fused with divinity when Christ takes human flesh so that the inaccessible light of eternity speaks in human words to Jews on the hillsides of Pales-tine and to all of us in the gospels; and the inaccessible life of eternity gives life to human tissues nourished from the body of Mary. And this divine-human talking and living is not over with. That once-and-for-all coming of the true Light into the world was the beginning of an unlimited number of comings. He comes now to each of us who will accept Him. He gives light, the teachings of His Church; and life, the sacramental life force which comes from His body through the ordained priesthood that He left behind Him. Light and life are in the Word because He is God; but light and life are given to man because that same Word has become man, made Himself available to man, placed Himself before us so that we may choose to unite ourselves to Him. There is no answering the question Why. We can only point to the strength of God's love. But if we ask why, we are uncovering, perhaps, false thoughts in our- selves. Have we ever realized how fully the Word had already involved Himself in the history and materiality of the world before He took this final step that brings Him visibly into the world? Why should we ask why to this last step? We should ask why'~t0 everything, not just to the Incarnation. God's eternal love has joined Himself to every moment of the world's existence. The Incarnation was simply the climax: In the world He was, And the world was made by Him And the world did not recognize Him Into His own He came And His own did not receive Him In the world He was from the first moment giving that moment and every succeeding moment its reality. The steady and balanced revolution of spinning worlds, and the quiet and inexorable change of seasons from death to life 'and.back to death and another life are His work and His teaching. He is the concurrent force, giving foufida-tion to the thoughts of the earliest'men and effectiveness to all their desires, holy or perverse. But the forceful message of all this rich physical reality is not heard. Though anything, simply because it exists, speaks of, the presence of God the creator, the fa~t Of creation failed to penetrate the darkness of immorality and sin that kept men "from recognizing the world as the words of God's eternal Word. God's Word speaks in a new way, trying by a new means to attract man's wayward attention. He chooses a man, Abraham, and tells the man he will beget a people. The Jewish race is born, and becomes God's own: I will be your God and you will be my people. And as this people grows through crisis, sin, and exile, the Word of God con-tinues to speak to them, residing in their Holy .of Holies, dictating their Law, guiding their history, inspiring the poetry of their kings and prophets. But all of it leads over and over again to relapses into idolatry and paganism, into infidelity and' hardness of heart, and finally into the degenerate Pharisaism that will not accept Him no matter what means He takes to speak to them: Into His own He came and His own did not receive Him. But all those who received Him He gave them power to become children o[ God, To those who believe in His name He who neither oI blood, nor (o[ a desire) o] the l~esh, (nor ot a desire ot man), But of God was generated. Not all o~ His own rejected Him, and between those who did and those who did not, a new dividing line is ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to VOLUME 20, 1961 105 gohn E. Becket, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS drawn. Once "it had been drawn by God between the Jew and" the idolatrous gentile. Gradually it shifted, so that it divided the Jews themselves. Only a faithful remnant was loyal to God and would receive the benefits of the Mes-sianic kingdom; the rest were Jews in blood and name only, This division started to break up the Jewish world even before the actual coining of Christ in human form. But this breakdown of Jewish unity was turned to,our good by God. it was the way God purged His revelation of Jewish nationalism, and it became the foundation for a new way of thinking among .those.Jews who accepted Christ. God's careful, educating hand was still at work, showing them that no longer was it important to be a Jew. Now all that is important is to accept Christ. For all who receive Him are God's people; Jews and gentiles become one people when they become Christians. Everyone who bears the human nature tbat Christ assumed~may now re-ceive life from Him. And receiving our life from God means becoming God's children. There is a difference, though, in our being tbe children of God and the children of h.uman parents. We received the life of our parents all unconscious of the gift. Christians, .even though they receive Baptism as infants, must eventually assent to their divine childhood consciously and willingly by ac-cepting the W~rd, Christ our Lord. It is one more proof of God's infinite wisdom that He need not interfere here with the nature He has created in us when He gives us new life. Rather tban rebuild our nature so that they l.ive automatically with divine life, He stands by His own primeval decision to leave us free. We may live a hum;in life that is dead to God. Or we may accept God's~offer; we may choose to receive Christ and become the .cbildren of God. Still, though He, has not remolded nature, Hhat He ¯ has dgne is miracle enough. To be God's child means to live with the life of God, just as to,be a h~uman child means to live with the human life of our parents. When We choose to accept Christ, by that very fact we make oui'- selves one with Him. One with Him, grafted on to Him, we live with His life. His life is the life of a Son; and so we, united to Him and living His life, live the life of sons, the life which, the only-begotten Son has received from His Father. Christ is so perfectly God's Son as to be God: I am in the Father and the Father is in me. United to the Son of God in a real oneness of life, we too are made sons. Our divine childhood is not a childhood of the flesh, be-cause Christ's sonship is not a sonship of the flesh. He who gives us power to become the children of God is He,who, neither of blood, nor o~ a desire of the flesh, nor of a de-sire of man, but of God is generated. Our own fathers, in a single moment, by the act of married love which gen-erates us, are only at that moment acting upon us with a real activity which is properly fatherhood. The action is over in a moment. ~But Christ, the. Son of God, is being eternally generated of God'. Our mothers beai" us in their bodies for nine months during which their bodies are ceaselessly active nourishing and protecting our growth. Btit even in that time of intimate and complete depend-ence we are separated from them. Physically our mother surrounds,fis. But she is not us. And her physical mother- ~hood is soon over. But Christ, the Son Of God, is so inti-mately one with God that together they are but one God; and the action of giving and receiving divine life between the Father and the Son never ceases to be a dynamic and intense activity. Christ is always the Son of the Father, not because the Father once launched Him forth into sep-arated existence, but because He is always being gen-erated by the Father and never is separated from Him. All fatherhood on earth is named fatherhood after this eternal fathering forth o~ the Son by His divine Father. Earthly fatherhood, momentary and fleeting, is its weak reflection. And just as Christ the Son of God is the eternal recipient of divine life, we, because we are grafted onto His life, are eternal recipients of divine life. By a ceaseless activity that never leaves us to separate and independent existence we are God's sons--unless we break the bond that seals us to Christ. But in knowing all this we know only the beginning. There is greater depth to the divine sonship still. Christ is the Word of God, as well as His Son. To find out what this implies about His sonship, we submit ourselves to the careful teaching of God again, through His inspired representative, St. John, who named Christ the"Word. A word is the product of a mind. And the mind is spirit. We must free our idea of fatherhood, then, from the fleshly concepts that could obscure it when we apply it to God. God's eternal wisdom is in the, Father as in an eternal mind. But it is in the Son as a thought contained in a word. But, like human fatherhood, human words are momentary, vibrations of sound or mental flashes.of un-derstanding. Christ, however, is not a momentary flash of God's knowledge. He is the eternal container of the thought of God, the eternal expression of the mind of the Father. And so eternal generation is more like the eternal production of an eternal word which contains all the divine and infinite nature of God. Christ's sonship is a spiritual sonship like that which exists between a word that perfectly expresses a mind and that needs no flesh to be real. It is no wonder, then, that Christ's sonship of the Blessed Virgin Mary~ though it is a sonship by which He derives His flesh fro,n her Prologue to St. John VOkUME 20, 1961 107 ./ohn E. Be~/~, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]08 body, should be a virginal sonship, free of the desires the flesh. Christ's infinite spiritual generation in heaven expressed in his virginal generation on earth. We are once more witnesses to the imprint of eternity on the events of time which characterizes the plan of our salvation. This second vision of faith, which St. John has projected in verses six to thirteen, has carried us again into the depths of eternity. This time it shows us that before we received the s0nship of the Word as our own life, we had been prepared by the very presence of this Word in the Law and the poetry of the Old Testament. Even before these things there was the presence of the Word in creation itself, though men failed to see Him there. Finally, before all the activity of the Son in the creation of the world and its redemption, was His eternal conception in the mind the Father as an eternal Word who contains all the divinity of the Father. And all that has happened in time, from the creation to the present moment, are but different ways in which God speaks His eternal Word to us, ways which develop and move forward with the growth of our power to appreciate God in ever clearer and more explicit realiza-tions until the ultimate climax when God no longer con-fines Himself to forming the universe through His Word, but clothes His Word in the very material of the uni-verse: And so the Word became [tesh And He made His home among us And we have seen His Glory Glory belonging to the only Son (coming) from the Father, .Full o[ grace and truth. God, in this last speaking of His Word has destroyed the distances between us. There is more, now, than com-munication between us. There is intimacy. The infinitely self-contained and perfect divinity projected the world and mingled with it to preserve its being. He intruded into world history to choose a people. With the Jews God took up His residence. He pitched His tent among them, as they delight to say over and over in their songs of praise to Him. His unseen glory was present in the ark. This was part of the covenant He made with them after He guided them by day and night from Egypt to the promised land in a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire. At the dedication of their great Temple, God's glory filled the Holy Holies. But now this eternal ,Word, who sought out Abra-ham and made His promises to him, who spoke in the Law and the Prophets, in poets, historians, and storytellers of the Old Testament, is no longer satisfied to speak through others. He speaks in His own Person. All the di-vinity of the Word which had manifested itself in these ways through centuries, now resides in this human flesh, not as a mere inhabitant, but as one person with it. The body of Christ is God's new home among men. That unspeakable glory of God which filled the Holy of Holies fills now the flesh of a man and makes it the flesh of. the Son of God. And the invisible glory of the only-begotten Son, when it comes from the Father into human flesh, is no longer invisible, but seen, Men have seen His glory. We might expect glory to be a word connected with the miracle of the transfiguration which took place before St.John's eyes on Mount Tabor. But whenever we find St. John using this word, we find the passion and death of our Lord: "The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" (12:~3). When Judas leaves the supper to betray our Lord, He says, "Now the Son of Man has been glori-fied, and God has been glorified, through him, and God will through himself glorify him; he will glorify him immediately" (13:31-32). And in His last discourse to His disciples our Lord says: "Father, glorify your son that your son may glori.~y you (17:2). I have glorified you here on earth, by completing the work which you gave me to do. Now, Father, glorify me in your presence as I had done me there before the world existed (17:5). I have given them the glory that you gave me, so that they may be one just as we are, I in union with them and you with me, so that they may be perfectly unified, and the world may recognize that you sent me and that you love them just as 'you loved me. Father, I wish to have those whom you have given me with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me, for you loved me before the cre-ation of the world" (17:22-2'1). The glory that is His Fa-ther's love for Him becomes the glory of the love of the Father and the Son for us when Christ suffers for us to make us God's sons. Passion and death are things that would have been impossible to God unless He had taken upon Himself a human nature. But when it is done, we see a new and startling vision of the glory of God, a new vision which is a paradox; the invisible'and awesome glory that filled the Holy of Holies is brightened to a climax at the time of God's suffering and at the moment of His death. If there is paradox here, there must also be meaning. Paradox is a challenge to our deeper thought. If passion and death are the climax of God's glory, its fullest ex-pression, what can God's glory be or mean? There is cre-ation. When we think of its immensity, the hugeness of the forces unleashed in the exploding universe, we catch our breath and lose track of our mathematical securities. But this is not a full picture of God's glory. It is only a first, rough sketch. When we think of the delicacy of craftmanship that enabled a tiny planet to nurture life, Prologue to St. John VOLUME 20, 1961 109 ÷ ÷ ÷ $ohn E. Becke~, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1]0 we may melt at the tenderness that reigns in a theatre of such violent forces, but we know again that it is not the full expression of God's glory. There is the Old Law when this all-powerful and tender God chooses to interfere in our pitiful history, chooses a nomad tribe and guides its destiny through hundreds of years of war and infidelity so that a few men at least will know that He is the God who is, in spite of their stubbornness and disinterest. This infinite humility of the omnipotent God, who cares that man's blindness be cured, speaks more clearly of God's glory but still falls, short of it. What is amazing is that none of this turns out to be any hint a.t all of what the full revelation of God's glory will be. How could we have guessed that the full burst of it would be a criminal execution on a Judean hill? Yet just this fiaeek submission to suffering and this most shameful of all deaths is the climax and full unveiling of the glory of God. God's glory is supremely expressed in His choice to suffer and die, to do those things which are the deepest badge of our sinful and fallen nature. The glory which Christ, the eternal Word, had before all ,time in the bosom of His Father is that extremity of love which leads Him to take up the nature of His sinful creature, suffer for him, and lay, down that life which, because it is the perfect ex-pression of the union of God with us, is the supreme gift which He can give to redeem us. And this glory of God, God's passion, is not for our contemplation alone, or for our deepest meditation. "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men to myself." It is magnetic force, :a force for union. We are drawn to Him, and all of us become one in. Him as the Father in Him and He in the Father. To a certain extent we are here meditating on poetry. In the context of our lives, however, it is more. It is an appeal to us to recognize the unity that exists now between time and eternity, space and divine im-mensity, and especially b.etween Christian and Christian. Little children love one another. We read here truth after truth, and they are many truths. But each separate truth, as it is presented to us, is set back into a mysterious and all embracing unity in God: The Word appears, but He is with God;° He is God. Creation emei'ges, through the Word; but then begins its long and relentless motion back towards God. Why this great return? Because the Word, who is one with God, has come forth from God and joined creation to Himself, pervading it by creative activ-ity, coming unto His own in word' and then in person, producing within Himself a new life for the created world to live in Him, making men God's sons and drawing them all and the creation that is theirs back to the bosom of His Father with whom He is but one. We, of course, must put ourselves back into this marvelous current o,f the life of God which is flowing back to Him. It cannot be ours unless we receive Him, and we can refuse Him. But if we are drawn to Him in the glory'of His Cross as it is renewed every morning at Mass, we will accept Him into our bodies in t~e sacrament of the Eucharist. We become, ourselves the dwelling place of the glory of God;. for we are the dwelling place of the flesh of Christ. All of us, marching back through time to happiness in eternity, become one in this divine life which nourishes us all. The glory of God walks about on the streets. It is in us and about us, We are His holy people united to Him and to each other in the reception of His body, all making up with Him but one body. Our temporal actions, walking the asphalt streets of our own moment of history, are eternal actions; our limited circle of friends and acquaintances is stretched to include all men, and they are all the focal point in time of our eternal love for Christ, because He is in them all. We se~ ii ~veryday in all meri, the glory o[ the onl~-b,e~g'ot~en Son of God, full of grace and truth. Prologue to $L loh~ VOLUME 20, 1961 111 COLUMBAN BROWNING, C.P. Martyrdom and the Religious Life The Reverend Colum-ban Browning, a fre~ quent contributor to the l~viEw, is sta-tioned at Saint Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd St., Des Moines 11, Iowa. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 112 Our twentieth century world prides itself on being mod-ern. And to the residents of our twentieth century, mod-ern implies everything that reflects the progress of this century. Efficiency, freshness of ideas, technological ad-vance- such things as these come to mind when we think of the word modern. Even twentieth century religious pride themselves as being modern in the best sense of the word. Since Pius XII inaugurated the movement toward adaptation to the needs of the times, the religious of today cannot avoid being modern unless he wishes to be branded with the stigma of retrogression. The response to the plea of Plus XII al-ready realized gives sufficient proof of the importance of making full use of all that is good in the progress of our age for the glory of God. But we religious can become so absorbed in our mod-ernity that we may forget that the motivation for the re-ligious life must always be the same and that it comes from the time of Christ Himself. This is why Plus always stressed renovation along with adaptation. While the approach may vary with the changing times, the mo-tivation is unchangeable. And for this motivation we must return repeatedly to the very sources of Christianity. The sources of Christianity are found primarily in the life and teaching of our Lord, a teaching enshrined in the Church that He founded. But also in the application of Christ's teaching in the early Church is found a very real source at which to learn the spirit of Christ in action. In those early days when the spirit of Christ was in the fresh-ness of its youth, we can find ideas to help us in our day to be better followers of Christ. One such idea that can be especially fruitful to this end is found in the historical fact that the religious life evolved in the Church as a sub-stitute for martyrdom. 1. Martyrdom and Christian Per[ection Martyrdom became a practical necessity in the early days of the Church. The infant Church soon came face to face with the persecution for~t,o, ld by Christ. Espec!ally in the Roman world did this 15ersec'u~ion reach the' pitch of fury. Beginning with the Emperor Nero in the first century and continuing for two and a half centuries, it was con-sidered unlawful to be a Christian. One who professed the faith of Christ, if detected, was given the alternatives" of apostasy or death. The story of the heroic courage with which so many thousands stood firm in the face of death is too familiar to retell. The resemblance of the death of the martyrs to that of Christ was evident to the early Christians. Just as Christ died a violent death in testimony to the truth, so also did the martyr. It is but natural, then, that martyrdom was seen as a dying with Christ. Just as logically, the martyr was considered the perfect imitator of Christ or the per-fect exemplificatibn of' Christian perfection. It is not sur-prising, therefor-e, that'we find the pastor~ and writers of those times exhorting the Christians to martyrdom as the means to perfect union with Christ. One need only study the example and the writings of St. Ignatius of Antioch to see how firmly rooted this thought was in the early Christian mind. During the reign of Trajan, this great Bishop was sentenced to death and sent to Rome to be thrown to the beasts. During his journey to Rome as a prisoner he wrote seven letter~ to the churches of the territories through which he passed. These letters reflect the burning desire of his soul to be perfectly united to Christ by martyrdom. His sentiments are most forcefully expressed in his letter to the Romans in which he writes as follows~ I am writing to all the Churches and state emphatically to all that I die willingly for God, provided you do not interfere. I beg you, do not show me unreasonable kindness. Suffer me to be the food of wild beasts, which are the means of making my way to God. God's wheat I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ's bread. Better still, coax the wild beasts to become my tomb and leave no part of my person behind;once I have fallen asleep I do not wish to be a burden to anyone. Then only shall I be a genuine disciple of Jesus Christ when the world will not even see my body . Forgive me, brethren; do not obstruct my coming to life-- do not wish me to die; do not make a gift to the world of one who wants to be God's. Beware of seducing me with matter; suffer me to receive pure light. Once arrived there, I shall be.a man. Permit me to be an imitator of my suffering God. Since martyrdom and perfect union with Christ meant one and the same thing, life itself was looked upon as a preparation for martyrdom. All asceticism was considered from this point of view. It was by dying to one's passions ÷ ÷ ÷ Martyrdom and Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 llS ,4, ÷ ÷ Columban Browning, C.I'. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 114 that one most resembled the martyrs and best prepared oneself for the supreme challenge. Origen expressed this in these words: "Those who have prepared themselves for martyrdom can even already be called martyrs, even though they may never undergo it." Time came when the pcrsecutions diminished and fi-nally ceased wi~h the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D. With tffe ,essation of persecntion actual martyrdom was no longer a possibility, but the ideal of martyrdom remained alive in the minds of the faithful. Since martyrdom by blood was no longer possible, a new emphasis was placed on asceti-cism which was looked upon as a martyrdom without blood. Martyrdom was still considered the ideal of per-fection; and those who most reSembled the martyrs by death to self, or ascesis, were considered the most perfect. II. Martyrdom and Virginity Among the practices of asceticism, that of ~irginit'y was held in an especial high esteem. The practice of virginity had been a high ideal and ~vas actually practiced from the beginning in imitation of our Lord and His Blessed Mother. But when persecution ceased, virginity received a new status as one of the foremost means of dying a .rnartyr's death without the shedding of blood. The virgin was con-sidered as wedded to Christ by a mystical marriage through grace. By complete death to the urgings of the body, the virgin, like the martyr, achieved a complete surrender to Christ, died with Him and became a perfect imitator of Him. St. Jerome expressing this thought said: "Virginity is a holocaust to God. Complete chastity is a victim to Christ." Thus, the white martyrdom of virginity, by a process of evolution conditioned by history, succeeded to martyrdom by blood as the equivalent of Christian per-fection. Living a virginal life in the midst of a wo}ld that still contained much of the pagan spirit obviously had its difficulties. As something of a moral necessity, therefore, those consecrated to God by the vow of virginity began to, band.together for mutual support. ~They often lived in common, prayed together and by mutual encouragement helped each other to their common g0al of perfect union with Christ. In this practice we have a foreshadowing and a natural preparation for the religious life. III. Martyrdom, Virginity and the R.eligious Lile The ground had been prepared for the birth of monaS-ticism, or organized religious life. Toward the end of the third century whefi the persecutions were beginning to lose some of their force, the practice of the eremitical life began in Egypt. In the year 320 (only seven years after the Edict of Milan), St. Pachomius founded the first monastery of the common,life, Some forty years later S.t.,Basil estab-lished the same form of life in the Eastern Church. With the virginal spirit already so high in honor and with so. many in fact already living the~eremitical life, it is not surprising that th.ese :m0~n.aster.ies flourishe~l.;Those. who desired perfect union with Christ and for whom martyrdom was,no 19nger possible flocked to these monas-teries. T~here, united in pra~er, these generous men and women were able to find a kind of native atmosphere in which to realize their ambition of perfect union with Christ by the "living martyrdom,' of the religious life. With the origin of monasticism there began a new epoch of Christian history, one that is still unfolding today. This is the history of the religious life. From one or two monas-teries, the fire of zeal that started them spread until it gradually covered the entire world. The organized life of consecration to God has gone through many stages of evolution, all of them prompted by the changing events of history. All through the ages the religious life has been adapting itself to the needs of the times until we find the greater percentage of religious today extremely active, whereas the religious of those early days were largely con-templative. But the religious of today are nonetheless branches of the same tree and the essential motivation of the religious life remains the same. IV. Practical Application Plus XII frequently urged religious to return to the sources of their life. Along with adaptation to modern needs, he stressed with equal insistence the need for renovation. The Holy Father realized that it is only when the spirit of zeal and fervor is pregerved and deepened that we can safely and sanely adapt, bringing the best effort to bear on the needs of the times. In striving to achieve this purpose, the religious of today would do well to endeavour to capture the spirit in which the religious life was founded. When we see the religious life as an outgrowth of and a s,bstitute for martyrdom, what a difference it can make in one's approach to the religious life. One sees clearly that the goal of religious living is perfect conformity to Christ, a wholehearted dying to self and complete living with and for Christ. The sacrifices inherent in the religious vows, resistance of the spirit of the modern world, the pressures and frustrations of daily activity in the life of the modern religious--all will be seen in a new.light when one realizes that these are but aspects of that death with Christ which leads to union with Him. It is by these daily sacrifices that the religious of our day are called to the same con-formity with Christ that was the goal of the martyrs. ÷ ÷ Martyrdom, and Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 Lack of Sufficient motivation is ordinarily one of the greatest hindrances to the progress of a religious. It may help religious to ponder the fact that the vocation of the religious is essentially the same as that of the martyrs. The manner of realization may differ according to circum-stances. But the goal is identical--the wholehearted giving of self to Christ, dying with Him in order to live with Him. ÷ ÷ ÷ Coluraban Browning, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS llfi PAX The Call of God There have always b'een, and.always will be, voclttions. One has only to run through the pages 6f both Old and New Testaments to see that Goff has always called souls to consecrate themselves to Him or to serve Him or to come.back to Him. The call of God's mercy, for it is always that, may be heard at any time and in the most unexpected places, as witness the parable of the prodigal son, who was called to mercy in a pigsty. God is of an infinite adaptabilityl From the beginning of Genesis, We find God calling Adam and Eve back after their fall. Truly God's ways do not change, for His "I came to seek and to save that which is lost" is true from the beginning. So, t0b, God calls Cain after hig murder of Abel tO give him a spark of hope even in his punishment. Noah is called with all his family and is set apart by God for His service and his own salvation. But the first spectacular vocation in the Old Tegtament is that of Abraham. Leave thy country,, thy~kinsfolk And thy father's house, And come away into a land That I shall show thee. Here is the usual conception of a vocation, the leaving of all for God; and already there is the promise of what might be called a millionfoldl "I will bless thee and make thy name renowned., and in thee shall all the races of the world find a blessing." Abraham's might be ~alled a late vocation, for he was seventy-five years old when it came! His wife and his ,~ephew were called to accompany him, and God con- ~tantly encouraged him: "Have no fear. I am here. thy reward will be great ind~edl" St: Ambrose remarks that ,t is the privilege of the saints to receive a new name from God. God changed Abram's~:name to Abraham; and his wife's to one meaning "The Princess." She too was blessed, ,vho had been sterile, and bore Isaac~"the son of laugh-oero" + Pax is the nora de plume of a cloistered Benedictine nun whose monastery is located in Belgium. ~VOLUME 20, 1961 11~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 118 Vocations bring suffering, as Abraham discovered by the terrible test of his f.aith, when God bade him offer up Isaac in sacrifice. But God stayed that obedient hand at the last minute saying, "Abraham, Abraham, for my sake tfiou wast willing to give up thine only son." It is as if God is in ad~niration of this. sturdy faith of Abraham's, just as Jesus later was when faced with the dauntless faith of a woman, "Womfin, great is thy faith! . Thine only son," cries God; and in promising Abraham the reward of a countless posterity, through which all nations should be blessed, God is promising him no less than His own Son, who would save us all. We see the parallel with this situation in the words of St. John: "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." God's love for Abraham and Sarah did not prevent His care for their bondmaid, Agar. Sh6 too is called and consoled in the desert by the finding of water .for her dying child and the promise of a wonderful future for him. It is no wonder then, that Abraham died contented. He had spent a hun drdd years in the service of God, and God had blessed him in all his doings. "God," a slnall boy onc~e remarked, "has some very funn) friends.", Jacob is,perhaps one of these, for in spite of St A_ugustine's lenient "not a lie, but a mystery," he appear., as "a t3vister"; but God who be.holds the heart saw hi., capacity for tenacious fidelity.and love. All God's dealing., with him are mysterious. Perhaps-He saw in Jacob, whc had, to put it politely, borrowed his brother's name, birth right, and blessing, the figure, o~. us all, of all mankind who would shelter:behind the name of His first-born Son Jesus, and in that Name and disguise, steal His blessin~ and the right of inheriting the Kingdom of Heaven. Nora of us can, then, throw stones at Jacob! He was called by God, in his sleep, from a ladder reach ing from heaven to earth, the passageway of countl~'s. angels (a ladder which has greatly intrigued the saints ant the fathers of the Church) with a free promise, with n( conditions! "I am the Lord, the God of thy father Abra ham, the God of Isaac, and tl~is ground on which thor sleepest is my gift to thee and thy posterity. Thy race shal be as countless as the dust., thou shalt overflow th, frontiers, till all the families of the earth find a blessing i~ thee and this race of thine. I myself will watch over the~ ¯. all My promises shall be. fulfilled." What a wonderfifl vocation Moses, the great contempla rive, had! From babyhood God endowed him with sucl grace and charm that he es~]ap.ed~death when Pharoa! killed the baby boys.o~ Israel. He, was saved by the ruler' daughter, who hired his, own.mother to nurse him. Got watched over him till the day when in the desert He caller him from out the burning bush. God often calls contem platives in the desert, for as St. Ambrose says: "The food of heavenly grace is given, not to the idle, not in the city . nor to those accustomed to worldly things, but to those of the kingdom of God." It needs contemplative eyes to see a bush aflame with God and ac0ritemplative tieart' to hear God's calling from so lowly a setting. How beautiful a name becomes when God pronounces it! "M6ses, Moses!" called ~God. "Moses" means "a rescuer," a saviour. Every contemplative is a rescuer of souls. Moses at once entered into the deep mysteries of God. "Take off thy shoes, for thou standest on holy ground. I am the God thy father worshiped, the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob. Up! Thou art to lead My.people out of Egypt." Moses is reluctant to accept this errand. His hu-mility tries to escape, from such high honors. Contem-platives often are tempted to wonder if their vocation is not presumption. Other people seem so much holier and more fitted for God's great designs. Moses is, like most con-templatives, a strange mixture of. timidity and audacity. God truly has ~strange ways of choosing His tools, of picking His elect! "Who am I, and Who art Thou, O my God?" cry the saints. "I'm not at all the person Thou needest"; and in the same breath, as it he hadn't listened to God's introduction, "Who art Thou?" Blessed humility, and blessed audacity of Moses, since! they gave us the splendid name God, "I am the God who is." Besides this amazing condescension of God to Moses, God gives His chosen one the gift of miracles to help him in his mission. But Moses in his modesty persists in pro-testing his incapacity for his vocation. He pleads his love of silence, his lack of facile speech. Contemplatives are often painfully aware of how inarticulate they are, how ineloquent when talking of what surpasses speech. The ~aints are sometimes regarded as fools by reason of this tongue-tiedness of theirs. Moses' vocation is fairly typical of God's call to con-templatives. He often accords them, at the beginning, a ~oretaste of "what eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor ,ath it entered into the heart of man to conceive." He puts heart into them; perhaps otherwise they would lever have the courage for the long march through the .vilderness that will inevitably lie before them. God brushes away Moses' doubts and fears and gives tim a spokesman in Aaron, whom Fie calls to the priest- ,ood, to the preaching of His message and to obedience. 'Aaron will receive my commandments from thee, and re- ,eat them . " And despite the desert, they could scarcely loubt God's abiding presence with them on the way since -Ie made it clear in their darkest nights by the column of ÷ ÷ ÷ The Call o] God VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS fire and the very cloud showed Him. there by day, to say nothing of His extraordinary care for them, so that neither shoes nor clothing woreout, and bread was sent them from Heaven. "Nothing lacks to those who love God." Most contemplatives can vouch for this amazing care of their heavenly Father at all times. An odd vocation is that of the soothsayer Balaam, whom God served in his own coin, so to speak, and led by con-tradictionsl He is like the sort of dirig6 who makes clear to his director along what lines he expects to be directed, in the way of his, own choosingl Balaam almost obliges God to let him have his own way, and God uses it to humble him mightily, by letting his donkey know His will for Balaam, and furthermore announce it, backed up by an angel! For this honor the poor ass paid dearly. One might note in passing that God seems by the witness of both Testaments to have a weakness for asses, human and otherwisel That is, if we dare use a human expression and talk of the "weakness" of God, as St. Augustine dare., do, of Him who is the Strength of the Strongl "Why hast thou thrice beaten thine ass?" asks Godk, angel. "I came to intercept thee, because this errand ot thine is headstrong and defies my will. If the ass had not turned aside. I should have taken thy life and spared hers." "I will go home again," decides Balaam. "No," say., God through His angel. "Go, but be sure thou utterest nc word, save what I bid thee." Magnificently, too, Balaam does that, to Balac's indignation; and despite his efforts a! bribery, Balaam blesses, instead of cursing, Israeli "Son, of Israel, countless as the dust, race of Jacob past al numbering, may death find me faithful as these, and be m) end like theirs." The grace of God suddenly floods him, as it has a way ot doing when we are obedient. "My errand is to bless," h( cries. Headstrong Balaam then humbly confesses tha "from being blindfold, he saw, heard the speech of Goc most high, had a vision of Him, and learned to see right.' This passage recalls that in the New Testament of th( blind man of Bethsaida, who was also" slow at learning t( see, who also had a vision of God, and at His touch learnec to see rightl Children are called, too, by God. Samuel was choser before he was conceived in his mother's womb. He was th~ fruit of the long suffering and many tears of his steril mother, blessed by Hell, the priest, to whom she declare( her vow of offering him to God "all his life long." Sh. brought him to the temple as soon as he was weaned and "evermore the boy, Samuel, rose higher in God' favour," One night, while he was "sleeping in the divin~ presence where God's ark was," he thought he heard Hel calling him and ran to him with charming obedience sa.) ing, "Here I am!" Heli sent him back to bed three times, then realized that God had called the little boy. He told him that if God called again, he must say, "Speak on, Lord, thy servant is listening." How lovely the account of Godls coming ag~iin in Holy Writ. "The Lord came to his side and stood there waiting." So often He does, and waits so long, so patiently before we Samuels recognize His voicel It was a fearful message for a little boy to have to deliver to Heli; but Heli, hearing it, made the admirable answer, "It is the Lord. let Him do His will." Saul and David both had kingly vocations; the first failed, as alas, vocations sometimes do. The second bore the hundredfold of fruitfulness. Both were rooted in humility, for neither seemed at all likely to become king. Saul scarcely expected to be called by God to royal honors and duties when he set out to hunt for his father's lost donkeys, any more than the little boy David expected to be king when he was shepherding his father's sheep. David kept his humility and so God exalted him; Saul lost his, and by disobedience fell from God's favour. Both fell, but David speedily confessed his sin. As St. Ambrose says: "He sinned as kings often do, but he did penance, he groaned, he wept, as kings are not wont to do. He con-fessed his fault, he sought for pardon., he wept over his misery, he fasted, he prayed, and publishing his grief abroad, he left a witness of his confession to all poster-ity,. To fall into sin comes from the weakness of nature. To confess the sin comes from virtue." '"l~he Lord loves obedience better than sacrifice," Saul was told. Disobedi-ence is revolting against God, and almost inevitably pre-pares the loss of a vocation. We have seen a few of the calls of God in the Old Testament; what shall we say of the vocations in the New Testament? St. John the Baptist links, as it were, the two Testaments; and the Church applies to his voca-tion the magnificent passage from .Jeremiah, whom God told: "I claimed thee for my own, before ever I fashioned thee in thy mother's womb. I set thee apart for myself." Each New Testament vocation is splendid in its simplic-ity. Jesus captivates hearts by a look, a word, a smile, or simply by His presence. St. Augustine has a delightful description of the beginning of St. Andrew's vocation. "They wished to see where He dwelt., to be instructed in His precepts. He showed them where He dwelt. They came and were with Him. What a blessed day they spentl What a blessed night. Who is there who can tell what they heard from the Lord? Let us, too, build in our heart and make a house, whither He may come and teach us, and talk with us." The Bible account itself relates best the story of all the The Call o] God VOLUME 20, 1'961 ~2! 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS splendid New Testament vocations; of our Blessed Lady, of St. Joseph, of.~St. Pe.ter, St. John and the rest of the disciples. How many others there are of which we would gladly learn more, like that of the little boy who gave his bread and fishes to feed 'the multitude, or of Jairus' twelve-year-old daughter, who heard Jesus' Talitha cumi, "Little maid, arise." Who could doubt that she followed, seeking Him as eagerly as the bride in the Canticle of Can-ticles? There are vocations of ad~nirable people like St. Luke, the doctor, of St. Paul, the fiery zealot; of businessmen like St. Matthew; of thieves like Dismas, who stole heaven; of sinners like St. Mary Magdalene or St. Photina, who at Jacob's well, drew forth such streams of living water from the Sacred Heart! And that of Zacheusl When he could see nothing, he climbed a sycamore and saw the Lord passing by. Now the sycamore is sometimes called "a foolish fig tree." Little Zacheus, then, climbed the sycamore and saw the Lord. Thus they who in humility choose the things that the world deems foolish have a keen insight into the wisdom of God Himself. The crowd prevents us from seeing the Lord because the tumult of worldly cares oppresses the human mind and keeps its gaze from the light of Truth. We climb a sycamore when we attend to the "foolishness" (as the world deems it) of God's commandments, refraining from recovering What, is taken from us, yielding our goods to robbers, never inflict-ing injury for injury and bearing all with patience. The Lord bids us "climb a sycamore" when He says, "If one strikes thee on the cheek, turn to him also the other." Through such wise folly, we may see the Lord, and in contemplation catch a glimpse of the wisdom of God. So says St. Gregory the Great. "No one," says St. Ambrose, "can easily see Jesus, if he stay on the ground! One must climb above one's former faults, and trample on one's vanity. So it was that Zacheus came to receive .|esns as a guest in his house. And rightly did he climb a tree." St: Bede says that Zacheus, to see the Lord, had to abandon earthly cares and climb the tree of the cross, embracing thus the."folly" of Christ. St. Maximus has an entertaining sort of spiritual ledger account of the hardheaded businessman Zacheus' conver-sion. "Za.cheus," he says, "opened the gate of heaven to the rich by showing them how to buy heaven through the very means that once kept them out of heaven--namely, their possessions! He bestowed a treasure on them which would enable them to be rich for all eternity; he truly made a good bargain by showing them how to dispense their riches to the poor and so be eternally rich." Zacheus heard and answered our Lord's call with jo'y, unlike the other rich man who went away sorrowful "because he had great possessions." What shall we say of all the other humble and anony-mous vocations of the New Testament, of a deaf and dumb man, of how many blind, and lame~ and dead? Like all these, if we are very little in our own eyes, we act as a magnd~ for the love-of God'and for the grace of His turning to look on us and to say, "Come and seel" Better: still, like Zacheus,: we m.ayhear Him say, "Today I must dine in thy house-." Besi~ of all, we may hear Jesus' promise, "If a man has any love for me, he will be true to my wor~.l; and then he?will win my Father's love, and we will both come to hin~, and make our continual abode with himl" ÷ + The Call o] God 123 SISTER MARY JANET, S.C.L. ¯ Proposal for Small Missions: Taped Conferences ÷ Sister Mary Janet, S.C.L. is stationed at Saint Mary College in Xavier, Kansas, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This is simply an idea. It concerns a possible spiritual service that the priest and the religious community in with a modern gadget might offer sisters living small, "spiritually impoverished" mission houses. The spiritual service is the conference; the modern gadget, the tape recorder; the "spiritually impoverished missions," those which receive little or no spiritual from a priest during the course of the year. The idea might be summed up as Taped Conferences on the Spiritual Life. There is no one way in which such an idea might realized. Sketched here are three possibilities. In one plan a religious community with a number smaller mission houses that do not enjoy the privilege regular conferences from a priest might secure the services. of a priest expressly to prepare a set of taped conferences for these houses. A distinct advantage of such a procedure would be that a priest could be selected who is well ac2 quainted with the particular community, its constitutionsl and customs, and its works. Furthermore, the community, could engage a man of proved abilities. Consider, for how a good retreat master could in this way follow up and amplify his original instruction, providing a spiritual focus and direction for souls over a con-siderable time span. How many conferences would he tape? This might vary according to the time the priest could give to such a proj-ect and to the number of conferences from one source community-might want. In general, six to eight confer-ences would seem ample, or perhaps enough for the re-, treat SUndays of the year. Probably--at first anyway-~' conferences in a series (where one is dependent on prem-ises set up in a preceding one) would seem less practical than autonomous conferences. Separate conferences would also simplify the distribution process. The subject of such conferences might well be deter-mined by a discussion between the priest and the religious superiors or even perhaps bysuggestions from ithe sisters themselves. The length ortiming 6f the tapes, too, might be suggested by superi6rs to fit into some. specific order of the day, as, for instance; a conference on the monthly day of recollection. Generally a half hour might be pro-posed as a relatively prudent length. For one thing, most Iape~ run one half hour; a longer donference would neces-i~ ate changing tapes--and there are distractions enough without mechanical onesl Too, we can only listen with maximum profit for so long. A half-hour is a safe average estimate. In this connection, it might be observed that the ;peaker can no longer rely ori gesture or facial expression ~r the command of his presence. He will need to compen- ;ate for these by careful use of illustration, examples, and ~enerally concrete, specific language. Once a set of conferences is taped, it could be dupli-zated to meet whatever demand there would be within the community. Note that five reproductions of a six-con-ference set of tapes wouldmake a conference on the,spirit-aal life available to thirty mission houses.After a tape had ;erved its purpose in one house, it could be sent on im-aaediately to another house, much in the manner we are !amiliar with in handling orented movies. Some initial planning in the form of a schedule for each tape would make distribution a minimum .chore. In communities which have a loan library, the tapes might well be added .o the materials these libraries make available to the sis- .er$. If the initial project proved valuable, the religious :ommunity could then enlist the aid of other priests and ~adually build up a considerable library of conferences or its sisters. A continuous program of new tapes--per-haps two or three sets a year--would seem ideal. A more ambitious project would originate with the )riests themselves. Here a diocese, an order, or a province )f an order of religious men might prepare and make ~vailable to sisters taped conferences on the spiritual life. Fhis, as I see it, would.be somewhat comparable to the ,ery real service religious orders of men are now perform-ng in publishing such magazines as the Sponsa Regis and he Review for Religious. This notion has fascinfiting possibilities. Think of the )riests in the cloister, older priests and those physically 11, priests,committed to work in seminaries and chancery ffices--for all of these, the tape is a possible pulpit. Tapes ould annihilate distance and a sister in New Mexico Ta~d Conterences VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Janet, S.C,L. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS could listen to Dom Hubert yon Zeller. They could bring the greatest spiritual thinkers of our generation into the most humble convent and they could preserve those voices for the next generation, Perhaps more ambitious yet: some large central agency concerned with the welfare' of religious--such as the Con~ ference of Major_ Keligious Superiors of Women's Insti-tutes or the Sister. Formation Conference might under-take such a project on a large scale, establishing a library of tapes for circulation among member communities. A small membership fee for each house or a larger one for a commu_nity would, I believe, cover the expenses of the project. ~ ° ~" Of course, the three outlined plans are not mutually ex-clusive. Indeed, they might well supplement each other and so offer .the sister "an embarrassment of riches~' in helping her gr6w in the spiritual life. Objections there would be certainly~ and it would be unrealistic to bypass therefor to pretend they could all be obviated. Such a project, for instance, would make a new demand on.already overworked priests. A certain, amount of expense and organization and book work would be in-volved:. What of the: .process of obtaining 'ecclesiastical approval? Some 'people simply"do not like being "talked at" by a machine, Furthermore, just. what advantage would the tape have over the,book? There are ,no real 'anSwers to the problems of time and taste. But there are some answers to other questi.ons., Ec clesiastical permission could no doubt be worked 6ut in side already existing channels. And, although th~ book is probably superiOr to the tape, objectively, still theteache, who uses the record or the tape can tell you that ther~ are times when the spoken word is more powerful and moremeaningful than the written word. More positively, jus~ wh;it purpose would such a projecl serve? A number of uses come to mind: for novitiates;' fo, sisters under temporary vows, :for ,sister,formation groups for the bedridden and .those, such as surgery supervisors who are unable to be :at community exercises, for prepa ration in renewing vows. But the most general use is on~ that can perhaps be illustrated by what is not, I think, ar undomm6n., experience among religious women in thi country today. It is principally why I think of this as ~ proposal for small missions. .'., ' A sister is missioned in, a parochial school in a fair-sizec town for nine or ten months out of every year. Here, ex cept for the Sunday sermon' in the parish church and th~ occasional and very generalized exhortation of her con lessor, the sister receives no formal spiritual instruction Her community may try valiantly to supplement this die during, vacation periods by institutes, tertianship pro grams, and so on. And fortunately for the sister, the Church demands the annual retreat. For very many sisters this is the only spiritual oasis in the year. Making good, solid spiritual conferences available to such a sister would be, I submit, 'a major act of super-natural charity. Too, it would "lengthen the arm" of the priest--or better, extend his voice~ which is, after all, the voice of Christ. + ÷ + Taped Conleren~es VOLUME 20, ,.1761 127 R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 128 The documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during October and November, 1960 will be surveyed in the following article. Unless otherwise speci-fied, all page references throughout the article will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). Allocutions and Messages On August 24, 1960 (AAS, 817-19), the Holy Father addressed the athletes gathered in Rome for the Olympic Games. He told the group that the purpose of athletics is not the winning of prizes but the proper development of the human body. However, he added, athletics not only affect the body by producing health, vigor, agility, grace-fulness, and beauty; but they also produce constancy, courage, and habits of self-denial in the soul. Hence he urged the athletes to fulfil in themselves the old saying, "A sound mind in a sound body." He concluded his al-locution by calling upon the group to observe the city of Rome closely and to see the role that Rome has played in the spread of the salvation and the charity that stem from the Gospel. Five days later, August 29, 1960 (AAS, 819-29), the Pope spoke to the officials and administrators of the Olympic Games. With this group he stressed his intense interest in world peace on the basis of the brotherhood that exists among all men. He also recalled to his listeners the rues sage of St. Paul that they should strive for a prize that higher and more durable than any earthly prize (1 Col 9:25). On August 28, 1960 (AAS, 829--30), the Vicar of Chris~ sent a radio message to the people of Peru on the occasior of their National Eucharistic-Congress. He pointed ou to them that the unity and brotherhood of men find thei~ origin in the fatherhood of God and are nourished at th~ Eucharistic table where Christ is received who died the salvation of all men and who is the principle of supernatural life for the entire human race. On September 16, 1960 (AAS, 821-24), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Fifth Thomistic World Congress. In the remarks that he made to th~ Congress, Pope John emphasized that the moral teaching of St, Thomas is always directed to the attainment of a super-natUral final end. He also said that the explanation and solution of moral problems according to the principles of St. Thomas will lead to remarkable results in. the way of peace for the Church and for the entire world. Hence, h'e continued, if his listeners succeed in presuading both man-agement and labor to know their respective rights and responsibilities, they will at the same time be leading them to follow Christ who is mankind's protector in this Hfe and its reward exceeding great in eternity. This, he said, will require a diligent study of the works of ~St. Thomas; and he called for a constant increase in the numbers of those who derive their light and learning from the works of the Angelic Doctor, This increase, he noted, should not only exist among priests and scholars, but also among all those interested in the humanities and especially among the young members of Catholic Action. To this end the Pope also urged the wider distribution of St. Thomas' writings in vernacular translations. On September 24, 1960 (AAS, 824-27), Pope John XXlII talked to a group of heart specialists in the hope, as he put it, of giving them a knowledge of the dignity of their profession in the light of Christian revelation. The Bible, he said, stresses the preeminent place the heart has in the human person. It is the heart from which come forth holy thoughts, wisdom, and virtue; it is the heart which leads man to rectitude, simplicity, and humility; it is with our whole heart that we are commanded to love God; and when the Son of God came to live among men, it was His Heart that he proposed to men as an example: "Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart" (Mr 11:29). Hence, he told his listeners, while a superficial view might think that a heart specialist is dealing only with a problem in human anatomy, in the eyes of faith and in reality he is concerned with a whole world of moral and religious values. Moreover, faith will show the doctor the beauty of his efforts as a scientist in quest for truth; at the same time the same faith will teach him how humble he must be in the face of the limitless immensity of God, Finally, faith will show the scientist the image of God in his fellow men and thereby transform all his relations with them. This effect of faith, the Holy Father added, is especially apparent in a profession like the medical one which is entirely devoted to suffering human beings. Hence in their work the doctors should recall frequently that what + + ÷ Survey ot Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 130 they do for their patients they do for that Christ who will one day say to them: "I was sick, and you vi.sit,ed me" .(Mt 25!36). On October 1, 1960 (AAS, 827-28), the Pope received the King and Queen of Thailand and delivered to them an allocution of welcome and good wishes. A similar allo-cution was given by the Pontiff when he received the Prince and Princess of Liechtenstein on October 8, 1960 (AAS 828-29). On October 20, 1960 (AAS, 893-95), the Vicar of' Christ visited the new building of the Beda in Rome and spoke to the English seminarians in residence there. Since the Beda's new building is near the Basilica of St. Paul he urged his listeners to recall frequently the woi'ds of St. Paul: "By the grace of God, I am what I am, and his grace in me has n0t been fruitless" (1 Cor 15:10). He went on to say that vocations are a tangible sign of the presence of God in the world; when God calls, a young man gives up family traditions, ambition, and earthly advantages and seeks only the glory of God, the sanctification of His name, the coming of His Kingdom, and the fulfilment of His will. He concluded his address by telling his listeners that each nation has its own treasure of traditions and of native virtue that can and must be transfigured into a precious instrument of the apostolate. Hence he urged them to take the well known English traits of humanity, gentlemanliness, and reflectiveness and transform them in the priestly activity they are called to engage in. On the same day the Pope also visited the new building that had just been completed to serve as a generalate and international house of studies for the Trappists. In the allocution that he gave for the occasion, the Holy Father t61d his listeners that the contemplative life constitutes one Of the fundamental structures of the Church; it has, he said, always been present in the two-thousand year history of the Church, constantly fruitful in virtue and con-stantly exercising a mysterious and powerful attraction for the loftiest and noblest souls. In praise of their vo-cation, Pope John cited to the Trappists the words of Plus XI (AAS, 26 [1934], 106) at the canonization of the Carmelite St. Teresa Margaret Redi: "It is these very pure and very lofty souls who by their suffering, their love, and their prayer silently exercise in the Church the most universal and most fruitful apostolate." He concluded his allocution by asking for the prayers of his listeners and of all the contemplatives of the world for the success of the coming ecumenical council. On October 25, 1960 (AAS, 898-903), the Holy Father spoke to the judges; officials, and lawyers of the Sacred Roman Rota. He told them that the dangers that weaken the institution of the family are accentuated at the present time, and he called the attention of all men of good will to the serious problem of the sanctity of marriage. In the first part of the allocution the Pope emphasized the need today for the instructi6n of the faithful r~egarding the dignity and the obligations of conjugal life. Marriage, he told them, is not only a natural reality; it is also a sacrament, a sign of grace and of that sacred reality, the espousal of Ch

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

Issue 5.4 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; RE VOLUME V / J,ULY 15. 1946 " Nu~BE~,~- ' , , CONTENTs "ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION~Cyril VSIlert. S.J. " " 21,7 A TIMELY PAMPHLET . ¢ -.'. . , .' , 228 ~CONCE~NING DISTRACTIONS~ha'rles F. Donovan, S.J, ~ 2;29 IN CASE YOU DON'T KNOW IT~ * 232 "SAINT APPEARED TWICE"--CIem~t J. McNaspy, S.J . 233 ~ PLAN OF SELF-DENIAL WITHIN THE 'REACH OF ALL ~ "Robert B. Eitem S.J . " 239 gP~LS ~ORVOCAT~ONS ., . ~,.~ 2~ SPEAKING' OF NAMES--Claude Kean.O.F.M . DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . ,249 OUR CONTRIBUTORS " . . TWO HE~RTS--W. H. Hingston S.J '. ~ 251 ANN~N~EMENT . - . ~. ~_. ~-25~ RECEPTION OF SEMINARIANS INTO RELIGIOUS INSTI~UTES~, Adam C, Ellis, S.J . :BOOKS RECEIVED . ' ~ ' 263 /QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ' ,~ 22. Permission to Use G~ld Watch . 23.,Number of Delegates for General Chapter: Soliciting Votes 26~' 24. Use of Income from Special Fees '. . ~. 26~ 25. Religious Candidate Whose Parents Have,Bad Reputation 266~ ~ 26. Going to Confession in Order of Seniority . . ~ . 266 27. Communion Sundays ahd Contests to Promote Frequent Communion 267 28. Order of Precedence in Mdther House " " 268 BOOK REVIEWS-- ' , ~,~ The Mystical Life; Meditatio~ on the Passion: The Catholic Centre: Mission for Samaritans: Forming a Christian Mentality; How to Medi-tate; The Mystical Baldy of Christ: La ~iete Eucharistique: John Henr~ , , . Newman: Centenary Essays; The T h"ird Day Mano'logy: Mast'er and~ - Model: Dove Flights: Kyrie Elei~on:XTh~ P~ychology of Liturgical MU- " sic; The Life,of Father Pro 271 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. ~uly, 1946. Vol. V. No. 4. Pu~lisfied bi-monthly; January, March:May. July, September. and November at the C011ege.Press,4 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. *by-St. Mary's College. St. Marys, ,~ansas, . with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered' as second class ~atter/~anuar), ~'15, "1942. at the Post O~ce, Topeka, ~Kansas. under the act of March 3:. 1879. EditgrlaL Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J. G, Augustine Ellard. S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider. S.J. " Copyright, 1946, by Adam C. ElliS, Permission is hereby. ~ra~n t e d for- quota't m:"n ~s. of reasonable length, provided due credit "be given this review and the auth6r.' Subscription price:, 2 dollars a year. Printed*ifi ~. Before writln~ to us,,please consult notice on inside 'back over~ ¯ ~' Or~gin~°l ~in ~nd Educa :ion Cyril Vollert, S.J. ~OST OF US who try to keep up with educational ~V~ controversies and discussions have~ become some-what surfeited with reiterated assurances that the one hope of salvaging this creaking world, so near the shoals of disaster, is education. We are told that education can save democracy, resolve the .c~lass struggle~ and confer on man. the good life.- " The striking t~I-iing is, much of this is true. But to realize'these great expectations education must be rightly conceived and rightly directed. It must be true education for man as he actually is; and it must be aimed at the right goal. Most of the. arguing about education is futile, and therefore fruitless, ' because those whd contribute the never~e.nding stream of articles, addresses, and books about education are so'often, unrealisticAn their view of the p.er~son who is to b~educate~d.or are wrong in t~eir idea.of t~e~upshot ofthe educational process. They are trying to stee~la rudderless sh~p throagh an uncharted sea to an unknown port. unless[we are right.in our notion of~the objec-tive to be a.t~ta[ned and of the~p.erson wh9 is to be educated, we are scarcely,.in a position to decide what the ~educational process ought to ~e. , . I,n this article.I s~all not pr3sume to fix the ~ltimate goal of education. Readers of this periodical know very. ~well what it is: ,God, whom we are to possess in the eternal happiness of the beatific vision. Nor shall I rashly attempt to outline an educational program. My purpose will be to describe the beneficiarydr" such a program and to indicate 217 CYRIL VOLLERT ' Reoiew /or t~elipiotts the proximate end to be achieved. The artist cannot pro-duce a masterpiece unless he knows the material he has to work on. Neither can the teacher succeed in transforming an uneducated person into an educated person unless he understands man as he actually is. The raw material of the educational' process is a boy or girl born in original sin, and still suffering the results'~ of original sin. This statement is not naive. It is not a bogy of a bygone day. It is true today and Will remain true for all time. Such a view is the only realistic view. Any other notion is false, or at least inadequate. But even tki'e truth that the person to be educated began life in original sin and still staggers under the burden of the consequences Of origi-nal sin may be distorted. To see the truth, two extremes have to be avoided: a vapid optimism and a groundless pessimism. Clear vision is n~eded, unobstructed either by rose-colored lenses or by smoked glass. The optimistic vie.w, credited by romanticists to the philosophy of Jean Jacques Rousseau but "actually as old as Pel~ag~us in the fifth century and his iritellectual ancestors, is that every man at his origin is wholly good. Let him alone; do not hamper or misdirect the natural play of his thought-processes and appetites; and he is capable of 'ifidefinite growth ingoodnegs. Signs of the break-up of the "electiv~ System" point to th~gradual abandonment of this view. But many. educators still do not know wh~t is to replace this shallow optimism. Rousseau and Eliot are no longer the .leaders to the promised land. Nevertheless the typical modern educator remains a Pelagian. /] The pessimistic view is also hoary with antiquity. Its crudest form, Manichaeism, regards all matter as evil. Therefore man, so far as he is a corporeal being, is evil. He is hopeless till he. gets out of his Body. A less irrational 218 1946 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION variety of this pessimism is the notion, characteristic of uncontaminated early Lutheranism and Protestantism generally, that original sin intrinsically corrupted man, l'eft him forever a sinner ihcapable "of morally good actions, and destroyed his free will. Nothing can really correct the depravity of Lutheran.man. His defilement can be covered up byChrist's merits, but he himself stays a sinful wretch, utterly corrupt. A trace of this idea of man, greatly diluted, is found sometimes among Catholics, even amdng educated Cath-olics and religious. They may have a notion, not very-pre-cisely formulated, that man's nature, though not wholly corrupted by original sin, was inwardly wounded so that his understanding, considered on the purely natural _level, is now intrinsically darkened and his will is intrinsically weakened. Those who harbor such an idea of man may have been Subjected to defective instruction On this point; or they may have failed rightly to grasp what was correctly taught; or they may have had teachers who repre-- se, nted a very small, and practically unimportant,-minority opinion tfiat man actually was thus injured by original sin. But there is no sound theological basis for this per: suasion. The truth is that man, coniidered simply as natural man, is as whole today, in intellect and will, as was man regarded in his purely natural endowment when he came from the creative hand of God. In other words orig-inal sin left man in no worse condition, on the purely human level of his mind and will, than he was before Adam cast his momentous decision against God. What is true in all that we hear about the disastrous effects of Adam's sin is this: the first man deliberately renounced God and thereby lost the supernatura! endow-ments which God had conferred on him for the whole 219 CYRIL VOLLER~. 'human~ race. Adam was created not Reoiew for Religious only in'a state~ of ¯ na.tural:perfecti0n, but .was elevated to.the~sonship of God by sanc._tifying grace,. Mor9o,ver,, to~ complement th!s~divine -gift and to enable Adam to preserve it for0himself and .the entire human family, God added other remarkable.gifts, notably, t_he.~gift of.integrity whereby all hispowers affd faculties were perfectly~subordinated to his. reason and.~.wi11., and the gift of immortality whereby his. body.~asi~sub~, 'jected to his~soul so that it was liberated from the necessity of fa!ling into corruption and death. These inconceivably .great bounties, all of ,,them beyond ,the capacities ,of human na°ture, Adam. received for himselt and for all his,~descend- By:_sinning Adam lost~them all~. He lost originals, jus-tice for himseff 'and fo~ his posteri.ty., His children and his children's children down to the end of time (with the unique)exception, ofo.th~ Bles'sed V4rgin'Mary).were begot-ten in.a-sta:te,.of estrangement from God. Instead' of.being ,bOrn sons. and daughters of God in sancti£ying grace: the,y. were,born.%without that relation to God,,,.the-only Fight relation.to God once God bad,elevated mankind i(in. Ada_m). to:the,supernatural level:~ ~They were born ~in,:the stat&of . ~ ~W.ith the sin inherited from" Adamgo theieffects.of, the sin:loss'[0f,the othe'r accompanying 'gifts, integrity, and im-morgality.:,,. ThereforeAdam's~children,are worse off ~ihan-he~-~ as.,.~ Forthey all come into°the,W.ofld withbut.-the grage of di,v, ine~sonship,, without integrit~y, without immottalit, y: ,Adam s,mn £change mankind for the wors~, ifi!,soul and.in :,, --But Adam's~ sin ,did not wreck his. human nature as. such.' We are no w6rse Off now than we ~oul'd have been if God had never elevated Adam to be His ~ad0pted son, with this exception: we ought to be biafn with sanctifying 220 July, 1946 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION grace, and we are not; find so we are born in a state dis-pleasing to.God, a state of sin. ~l~rue, if we ~compare ourselves with .A'dam as he actually was in Paradis'e, we are far .inferior,,. We are deprived'of the supernatural and.preternatural Preroga~tives¯ that. made him so extraordinarily perfe~t~a man. P~i0r fo baptism we lack the divine sonship he had; and so we come into the world as sinners. And even though.we-.recover tl~e . grace of divine sonshil3 in baptism, we lack the gift of integrity: and so we find in otirselves an unruly mass of conflicting .powers, the 10w~r at odds with the higheL th6 body unsubservient to the soul. We lack the gift of immor-tality,. and so we succumb to illness, wounds, gradual cor-ruption, and death. But if we regard only Adam's nature itself unperfected by any of these gifts, oar own natures ar'e just the same. Adam's-nature, left to itself, ,had the sameelements and equipment as otirs. If he had not had the gift of integrity-he. too w.ould, even without any sin, have experienced the same conflict among his faculties. His senses would have sought their own pro~er objects just as gtubbornly as ours do,-against the will's consent. 'His body .would have been exposed to illness, decant, and death. All this appears, quite reasonable. Our first pgrents, as ,they .actually were, with God's supernatur.al and preter- ' natural gifots added to" their natural make~up, were clearly superior to .tis. Bui if we disregard Whatever is preter-n~ atural arid supernatural, we headily seb th~at they .had the same nature as we their children have. : Only one thought, nagging at our memories of what We have heard and read, keeps thrusting forward an objdc-tion; we have been taught that, as a result.of original sin, ourintellects have been darkened and our wills have been weakened. This ii :the very statement in the elementary 221 (~YRIL VOLLERT Re~oiew for Religious catechis~ most 6f us have studied: "Our natur~ was cor-rupted by tl~e ~in of our fi~st parents, which darkened our understanding, weake.ned our will,.and left in us a strong inclination :to evil." ' ' This brings us to the heart of our discussion:, just what this statement means. It means that, without the gifts of original justice,'-particularly integrity and immortality, our minds are less able to acquir~e truth and our willsare less firm in pursuing good th.a.n if we had those, gifts. I~ does not mean that original sin has .intrinsically harmed our minds and wills so that their natural power to khow and ¯ will has b~en destroyed or i~apaired, ~ The doctrine taught by the familiar catechism of our childhood is of course true. But the trUth.admits of better wording; and the recent revision of this catechism puts the matter more clearly: "The chief punishments of Adam which we inherit through original sin are: death, .suffe)ing, ignorance, and a" strong inclination to sin." What~ever is taught by the ~.hurch about t.h~ darkening of the intellect and the weakenirig of. the~will can be under-stood, and actually is understood by .all great theologians;, in .the sense of a deterioration as compared .with the mind and will of man in the state of c;riginaljustice. .This is easily perceived, in .the °casfi of the will. God ~en~riche, d Adam;s nature, with the'gift of integrity, which lined up .all his powers and passions under, the control of his reason and will so that his animal appetites could not take the initiative in attracting ~him toward evil and could no~ prevail .against the command of'his will., In punish~ ment for his sin, Ad,am lost thisomarvelous gift for him-self and for all of us. We do not possess the gift of integ~ rity, and'so *there is lacking in us the perfect order among. our various powers ~and appetites which that~ gift would have proc~ured. In. other words, we are subject to unruly 222 dulq, 1946. ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION c'oncupiscence, which means simply that each of our .appe-tites seeks its own good heedless of the good. of the whole person. When an attractive object confronts any of our senses, that sense can immediately reach out for the object quite independently of. the will's.consent, and even against the will's command. By that very fact our will is weakened. Concupiscence pulls us toward the tempting object even though we realize that taking it involves sin. We .may "already have reached out to seize it before the mind adverts to what we are doing: And even after the mind does take notice, the enticement still persists, the tug is still felt. We are much less able to resist the allurement than if the Senses were fully under our cohtrol. The will may say, "No!" Sense appetite says, "Yes!" And both will and sense appe- .,.rites. are mine. I am being torn between a higher and a lower good. I can resist, because :my will is still in charge. But often I give up; especially if, the battle is a long one. My will does not resist; I surrender, satisfy my lower craving at the expense of moral good, and so I sin. Adam in the state of original justice would have under-gone no such struggle. His will could simply have said, "No!" The sense appetite would, have straightway obeyed. Indeed, the sense appetite could not have been attracted to the object in the first place without the assent of the will. Therefore'my will is weaker than his; but only because.of the pull of concupiscence. My will, as a natural faculty just in itself, is in no way weakened by original sin. The same is the case with our intellect. Adam had a preternatural gift of infused knowledge. We have not. Therefore our understanding is dark as compared with his, for .his was bathed with divine light. If Adam had not ~inned, he would not have handed on his special, infused gift of knowledge to his descendants. For this knowledge 223 CYRIL VOLLERT Review [or Religious was a personal gift with-vc~ich God eciUipped the~fii~st-man, created.aS he Wasin adulthood in intimate communion with God and with a special office as teacher of the children.he was to beget. ~: ~ ._ ,. ~ - ~ :,~,.- ,~ Adam had, yev other endow, menfs~perfecdnghis intel-lect, Alohg with. the sanctifying grace that~ele~ated him to dupernatural heights went the infused'~virtues, theological and moral. Among these are faith and prudence,., which resided, in his intellect. These'he would h~ve~transmitted: But. he sinhed,~and,so could not. transmit sgnctifying grace and, all 'the:accompanying.gifts. We,~ born without.~sanc-tifying~, grace, begin life deprived of the infused virtues, .includidg " those ,.which would have.equipped ~our minds With a habitual~aptitude for higher truths, In this respect, too, our. minds are defective as com#ared with his before the Eall: . _ ~Bu~-here we must'consider another factor, which is :sel~ dora,well,brought out. In sinning, Adam~ lost, 'besi~h sanctifying grace>~ith its cortege of infused.'virtues, ,th~ preternatural~ gif~s~: of,integrity and immortality. with:~heqos£of, immortality~w_¢nt the loss of impassibility, 6r :immuflitw,.to~sfl.ffering, disease, and death~.,~:~His body was no longer.perfectl~ subject;to his sou.L: ~ ~ From' Adam.weinherit ~bgdies ~bereff of these~ gifts. .Not bnly are we sfibject to 'conCupiscence,~ b6t me-have .,bodies unprot&ted, from ~harm-bythe -g "~ "f t~s~ .:.o.~lm~"m -ortahty and impassibility.,. Ou~. souls are immorthl, ~but tEey ha.re not the' pow&~to i~part., i~mortality to bur bodies. ~us.left ,their nat6ral ~eakness; our bodies easily giveAn, to f~tig~e, .to a thousand different, diseases,',to, the decrepitude of advancing age, .and~:.to dissolution. All. this,,has weighty ~consequences for ~0ur ~no~ledg~ and our (apacity to learn. Obviously~ ,the,pull 0f-c6ncu~iscence,is a tremendous obstacle to the acquisition~of knowledge. Web.have a kin~ 224 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCATION ship for the concrete, the. sensible. Higher truths, especially the truths of theology, ,religion, and metaphysics, hav~ -little charm for most people. They waht to know and experience what is pleasant and easy. Whatever has a sur-face interest excites them. The clang of the fire-engine bell~ upsets the class; not only children in third grade but university students, and the professor himself, feel the urge fo rush to the window. Philosophy is hard put to it to rdsist the seduction of the radio. Mathematics runs a poor ~second to.movies. A game of ball in the nearby playground is. more fun than geography or arithmetic. Shakespeare. and Thackeray have less appeal than the funnies. Another important consideration, is the fatigue that goes with thinking. Continuity is essential to study. But the brain soon wearies and seeks distraction. Even under -the most favorable circumstances, sudh as absolute quidt. freedom from interruption, and robust health, mental con- ¯ centration is extremely hard work. We know how right Aristotle was When he remarked, "Learning is'accompanied by pain[" The experience of students is well formulat,ed in a wise man's saying that has passed into a p~overb.: "Knowledge maketh a bloody entrance." But ideal circumstances are rarely granted to us. Leisure for thinking is a luxury. The very necessity of caring for the bbdy's needs takes up the most valuable portion of our time and eneigies. The majority of mankind must spend half or more of each working day in sheer toil for bread~ What leisure is left is without the freshness of mind required for acti,~e thought. -Even when a person has leisure and opportunityfor learning, his bodily condition is often a deterrent to efficient °study. The eye too soon grows dim, and reading has to be rationed. Hayfeve-r, sinus infection, a cdld in the head, the hundrei:l ills that plague mankind, all. militate against the ¯- 225~ CYRIL VOLLERT ~ Revietu /or Religious attention, correlation, and penetration required for ¯ rained.thinking and for the mastery of but a single province of human kno,wledge. ~f~to such bodily distresses we add the emodonal~bias that s~ems froni concupiscence and ,impedes the disinter-ested pursuit of truth, if we take account of the environ-. mental restrictions that, as in Soviet Russia', block access to th~ sources of truth, and if with allthis we mix in the lying propaganda, rooted in selfishness or in bigotry,, that not only closes off truth but teaches error, we can go very far in explaining the darkening of our under~tandin.g that is a result of original sire , Truly, our ability to gain knowl-edge is grievo.usly inferior to that of Adam when, before he rejected God's grace, he was shielded from all these evils by his preternatural gifts of immunity to concupiscence, suf-f~ iing, and bodily dissolution. But our natural faculty of intellect was in no way intrinsically injured by original sin. Our intellect and our will are the same now, considered as purely natural perfec.-' tions, as they would have been if Adam had handed down to-us original justice instead, of original sin. Our intellec-trialand volitional inferiority results from our lack of the preternatural gifts that would have removed all obstacles to their perfect functioning. Such is the teaching of all front, rank theologians, a teaching based on their study of revelation. The punish-ment of original sin, St. Thomas notes, is restricted to the withholding of the supernatur;il goods gi:anted by God to. our first father-for transmission to his posterity.1 ~ Su;irez agrees with Aquinas: The common and true doctrine is that the powers of man or of his free will, rhgarded from the standpoint of the perfection they would ha~,e had in the state of pure nature, were not diminished in iCompendium Theologiae, 1 226 Julg, 1946 ORIGINAL SIN AND EDUCXTION fallen nature by original sin; they are inferior only when compare~' wxth the strength and integrity conferred on them by original jus-rice. -~ - St. Robert Bellarmine teaches the same doctrine: The corruption of nature resulted not from the lack of any natural gift, nor from the presence of any" evil quality, but from the . sole loss, owing to Ada~'s~sin, Bf the supernatural endowment.8 Thus the raw material of our educational endeavors is ~the boy or girl, the young, man or woman, with intelle'ct and will essentially unimpaired on the natural plaiae. Our aim in education should be to develop this goo,d natural equipment and to transfigure it with all the super-h~ itural ,goods Christ has given to the Church for t.he benefit of His brethren. Revelation, the Church, the sacraments, ~sanctifying grace,'the infused virtues and. actual graces and all that the Church_disp0ses of for building up the body of Christ must raise and0perfect the souli of men together with their" faculties, xspecially their powers of inteIlect and wiff. The proximate purpose of our educational work must be to train.the youth entrusted to us so to master thdmselves that, within ~he. supernatu0ral sphdre to which they have been re-elevated by Christ, they may pumue the Truth which is God, and embrace the Good, which is also God. The closest possible approxim:ition to the original in.tegrity must be the goal to which we lead our limping, students. This is no mean ambition for those whose life'long voca-tion lies in the classroom and on the campus. The same goal.is the one we religious propose to reach in our own self,education. But in addition to the bottom-less treasury of graces open to all Catholics, we enjoy,'in" our ascetical striv~ings, certain freedoms that can bring us much closer to the original freedom Adam had. Our privi-lege js brought home to us by the matchless,champion who ~DO gratia, prol. 4, c. 8, n. 5. 8De gratia primi hominis, . 5. 227 CYRIl., VOLLERT -upheld t~ae greatness of the religiot~s state against pertly attackers of his day~ ¯ The exercise of perfection requires that a person 'd6 away witl~ whate~'er can impede him from directing his affections wholly to God; ¯ for in~this consists the perfection of charity. There are'three obstacles of this sort. T14e first is the desire for external good£ This' is removed by the vow of poverty. The"second is the proclivity for pleasures of sense, among which lustful delight isthe keenest., This is surmounted by the vow ol~ chastity, The third obstacle is the deordination of th~ human will. And this.is corrected by,the,vow of " obedience.4 Thus with intellect and will intrinsically good and unspoiled in their natural soundness by original sin, we C~n with Ggd's grace'overc0me all hindrances and eventually make ou~r .own, in limited degree, the perfection of tl~e sec-. ond Ad:;m, J~sus Christ. We cannot, indeed, ever in this" life attain to the integrity of original justice; Christ did0not ~ restore that extraordinary privilege to redeemed man: ~ BuS as brothers and sisters of the God-man, or truer still, as living members of His body, we can get closer to the second ~dam, and therefore closer to God, 'than the first Adam was ~ in his primeval innocence. And so our last state can .be better ~han the first. ~ '~St.'Thomas, 8umraa, II-Ilae, q. 186, a. 7. A TIMELY PAMPHLET~ ':The Guide Posts of the Almighty to Perma~ient Industrial,Peace" presents a "plea for .the Ten Commandments as the only solid basis for lasting peace, industrial and international. The section which describes the rights and dutie~ of 'labor and management is particularly"excellent. Every emp!oyer and every laborer might well read this with profit. The pamphlet is from the pen of the Most Rev. Richard J. Cushin.g, D.D., Archbishop og Boston, and is published by the Radio Re151ies Press, St. Paul, ,Minnesota. Price: I0 cents. ~ 228 Concerning Dis :ra t:ions Charles F~ Donovan, S.d. THERE is an aspiration which I should like torecom-mend; yet I fear it might be misunderstood. It is: "Jesus, be my distraction." Now distractions are bad, they are sappers of spiritual energy, things to be avoided. And obviouslq we' do not intend to couple the name of Jesus with anything evil. But. there are certain characteristics of distractions which would be worthwhile if transferred to the thought of Our Lord, namely, their persistence, their fascination,.and their seeming ubiquity. It is these qual{- ties ofdistractions I have in mind when I say, '"3esus, be my distraction," which is a brief way of saying, ",lesus, be the magnet of my mind, the channel of my thoughts, the theme of my day from task ~o'task; when dut.y of any sort commands the center of the stage, lurk in the wings of my heart, and the moment I pause, the moment I am free ~et the spotlight of my soul rest on You alone." Every day at Ma~s the priest exhorts us, "'Sursttm corda'" (Lift up your hearts). And we respond,"Habemus ad Dorninurn'" (We have them lifted up to the. Lord). This lifting we reaflifm daily is not our passive elevation by God to the state of grace. When we receive grace,~Christ stoops and does the lifting. Yet even with grace we may remair~ earth-bound and inert. The lifting w~e profess when we say. "'Sursurn corda'" is an active elevation, our cooperation with Christ, an ~ffort to use His grace to meet Him on His own level. As Dora Augustine Baker puts it in the 'vigorous English of Shakespeare's time, we mean the "forced but very facile elevations of the will, that bluntly or blindly heaves itself up towards God." We-heave ourselves in spirit 229 CHARLES F. DONOVAN Review for Religious towards God in hope and love and joy. A distraction-, therefore, is truly a fail--not necessariI~ a fall in the sense of sin, btit a descent from the heights of communion with Christ. If we are habitually distracted we really should answer the priest, "'Habemus ad humum'" (Our hearts are fixed on the earth, on dust, on our own level). There is a fervor, a preoccupation with God which in the face of a present and pressing tluty, like signing checks or making out report cards, could be called a distraction. Some of the saints have been "bothered" by such distrac-tions. Saint Ignatius, 'for instance, sometimes had to be dispensed' from reading the Office because during it he would experience ecstasy and thus be kept from other daily business. Saint Teresa was often afraid to think of God, lest she experience some divine visitation that wquld interfere ~vith her work or embarrass her in public. BUt most of us need have no worry about such piotis distrac-tions. It is not often the thought 6t? God-that makes us' shabby workers. Our trouble is generally not that prayer keeps us from mundane things but that mundane things keep us from prayer. Our mind-wandering tends to be from God to creatures, the kind of distraction to wh{cb that religious referred who complained, with healthy self-criticism, that his new superior conducted-such prolonged ~zisits at chapel after meals that he ran out of distractions and had to' pi~ay. Now if we really have .our hearts lifted ad Dominum, if our habitual tendency and spontaneous impulse is to think of Jesus, then distraction in prayer becomes not impossible, but at least unpleasant and of slight Spiritual d~nger, like a ¯ fly buzzing around our prie-dieu. There are also distractions whicb occur all day !ong even in non-prayer time, but which don't actually keep us from our work. These are, therefore, rather potential thah 230 July, 1946 CONCERNING DIS, TRACTIONSj real distractions. Theyare our worries, our enthusiasms, our pet interests, the things which are just outside the. focus of our attention or just below the surface of consciousness, to whichthe mind tends to revert over and over dttring the day. If these concerns, these potential distractions,-are intense, the person who has them is said to be preoccupied or to "have something on the mind." Wouldn't it be won-derful if we were so intimate with Our Lord that we could be said to have Jesus on our mind? Of course, that is the ambition of all religious, to be so in love with Our Lord that He is our dominfint interest, our hobby, the object of . our ardent enthusiasm, our companion day and l~ight. Finally, there are the distractions which we seek, favor-ire" topics to which we let: our mind lazily turn in moments of relaxation, familiar themes which we find congenial and. particularly helpful when we are trying to get to sleep. The subjects that we choose for such distractions are indicative of our spiritual health. _The old saying, "Tell me~ whom you, go with and I'll tell you what you are," is applicable to mental as well as to persgnal companions. If wespon-taneously- turn to worldly thoughts, then we a.r.e very probabl); worldly ourselves. If our favorite reveries are spiritual, our character is most likely spiritual. Habitual 'and sought distractions, the recurrent musings of our idle moments, can be of tremendous influehce in our - spiritual lives. They not only indicate character; they also form character and spiritual taste. Wl~at we think ofand enjoy thinking of~when we are free, when the rule is not directing us, and the choice of mental occupation is up to ourselves, both manifests and shapes the inner self., These chosen reveries can be the occasion when temptation is most .likely to assail us. They can be little secret escapes from the cloister and from the spirit of religious life. Therefore it is of first importance that we cultivate lofty and holy 231 CH'ARLES F. DONOVAN mental companionships so that our idle moments will be in keeping with the tone of our religi0,us profession and will strengthen rather than dissipate our religious spirit. As ~ Kempis says (Bk.iii, ch.58)~ "That cometh in'to my mind which by custom pleaseth me best to think upon: and where my thought is accustomed to be, there is that which'~I love." What nobler~ theme, what~holief com-panion gould we have for our unpres~ribed and effortless meditations than Our Lord Jesus Christ? Wouldn:t we be in a blissful state of spiritual perfection if~. during the day's work we looked forward eagerly to those moments of rest, especially the moments ~ before sleep, when-we would be able to think easily and lovingly of. ,lesus, and say with the poetess, "I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart?" In Case You Donq: Know It-- The Catechetical Guild Educational Society publishes a first-class magazine entitled Catholic Youth. $1.50 per year, for ten issues: 15" cents pet"copy; quantity rates to ~chools and churches on r~quest. Write to: CatholicLYouth, 128 E. Tenth Street, Saint Paul. I" Min-nesota. Another Catechetical Guild project is Post-Reporter, Catholic Youth's own newspaper. It is published every second Monday during the school year. $1.00 for full school year; 5 cents for single copies: bulk rates on application. ¯ Address, as above. The Dominicari Fathers~'of the Province of St. Albert tile Great publish The Young Dominican for the benefit of young men~ho aspire, to become Dominican students. The paper is attractive and informative. Copies are sent.on request. Address requests to Brother Bede's Mail Box, Dominican House of Studies, River Forest, Illinois. The Missignar~r 'Sisters of Mother of God recently began publi-cation of The.Ark, "a. monthly periodica, l devdted to ecclesiastical and' cultural affairs, p~rticulaidy Of Eastern Rites." "Subscription: $2.00 per year; 25 cents per copy. 232 Sain : Appeared Clement J. McNaspy, S.J, AM WRITING this just after giving Holy Commumon in.one.0f the.'most favored and sacred spots in our coun-try. It is the nearby convent infirmary. .The com-municant was a lay sister of the Religious of the Sacre'~d Heart. I don't know her name. The convent is .really c~alled the College of the Sacred Heart; it is located in Grind Coteau, Louisiana. If you have never heard of Grand Coteau, let me assure you.that it is one ~f the least worldly villages anywhere. T.here is no motion picture in town. There is not even a chamber of commerce. A stranger would probably~call it a "sleepy" town. Yet few towns in the United States have known such spiritual activity. For one. thing, Grand Coteau boasts a retreat house where the spiritual, exercises are made almost weekly by sizable groups of laymen. There is too a desuit-novitiate within the city limith; and no ridigious need be tol~l that a novitiate can hardly be called a "sleepy" place, especially at recreation time. But Grand ,Cot ea 'u s c.laim to. veneratioo goes far .beyond this. o As you ~drive'along Louisiana. Highway No; 5 toward the. outskirts of the village of Sunset, you are sta~rtled by a garish-(fortunately, somewhat fadi'ng) 'placard: National Shrine, Saint A15peared Twice." ~An'd the sign points to Grand Coteau.,Jhidden beneath pines and oaks and moss, one mile north of the highway. -l~his gives away Grand Coteau's secret. One of the very few first-class miracles performed in the United Sta~es and officially accei0ted by the Church took place th.ere, in ¯ that very infirmary where I w.as just privileged to gi~re 233 CLEMENT J. MCNASPY Review for Religious Holy Communion. No, the miracle didn't happen yester-day. Yet o'nly a few weeks a~o we buried ninety-six year old "Tante Yomme," who when in school at'the convent had been a witness of the miracle, the last surviving wit-ness. Besides, private archives have a way of annihilatink even decades of years; and the kindness of Reverend Mother Superior of th~ College of the Sacred Heart has put into my hands these treasured documents, original affidavits and first hand descriptions. It is engaging to read among them Sister Mary Wil-son's personal account: how she was cured of~a disease diagnosed as incurable. There glo.w warmth and imme-diacy in the young novice'-s story. She hurries along, ingenuously, simply, impatient of conventional syntax and punctuation, not even careful to sound completely consist-ent. Here are her own words, as copied from the document heretofore unpub!ished.1 Tie very next day (December 10, 1866) I was worse than I had ever been before up to that time, all hope of getting better abandoned me; I felt getting weaker and my sufferings were so intolerable that it seemed to me that it was impossible to bear them long--Given up by the Doctor I disposed myself to receive the.Holy Viaticum this was oix the 10th of December and on the llth the Father gave me the - last Plenary Ifidulgence. One of our dear Mothers brought me a picture of Blessed Berch-marts on~the 6th and said that the community was going to make another Novena to Blessed BerchmansI looked at Mother and in my incredulity asked her, if there was any other saint left that they had not already importuned; for my dear Mothers and Sisters had already made so many novenas that I thought neither God nor the Saints were willing to confer any favor upon me ". I do not think I had eaten an, ounce of food for about forty days, during that time I had taken nothing but a little Coffee or ,tea which" for a week before I recovered, I could no longer take; and for two weeks no medicines had been administered--the Doctor said 1To facilitate reading, dashes have been inserted in the text. 1946 "SAINT APPEARED TW~rCE'' it was useless 'to torture me more so he stopped giving me any; the last two days I was unable to swallow even a drop of water . ¯ Owing to the condition of my mouth and fongue it was greatly feared I would not be able to swallow the Sacred Host--the Father therefore gave me but a sm~ill particle~it was with great difficulty that I could receive even this; the Father perceiving it remained b~; my bed,side with ciborium in hand until he had the perfect assurance that I had swallowed it,~this however could only be affected by means of a teaspoonful of water, and attended by. intense palm Being Unable to speak I said in my heart: "Lord, Thou who seest how much I suffer if it .be for your honor and glory, and the salvation of my soul I ask through the intercession of Blessed Berch-mans a little relief and health, otherwise give me patience to suffer to the end, I am resigned"--then placing the. image of Blessed Berch-mans on my mouth, I said: "if it be true that you can work miracles, I wish you would do something for r~e,--if not I will not believe in you. ~I can say without s~cruple or fear of offen'ding God, I heard a voice whisper: '~Open your mouth." I do so as well as I felt some one put as it were their finger on my tongue and immed~ ately I was re|ieved. "I then heard a voice say in a distinct and loud tone: "Sister, you will get the desired habit, be faithful, have confi-dence, fear not!" I had not yet opened my eyes, I did not know who was by my bedside I turned around and said aloud: "but Mother Moran I am well"--then standing by my bedside I saw a figure he held in his hand a cup, and there was some lights burning near him--at this beautiful sight I was afraid--I closed my eyes and asked: "is it Blessed Berchmans", He answered: "Yes, I come by the order of God, your sufferings are over, fear not !" I opened my eyes but he was gone. The Sister infirmarian had gone down to the chapel to receive Holy Communion. I sat up in the bed I felt no pain. I was afraid it was an illusion and that my cure was not real--I turned over and over in the bed but without pain--I then exclaimed: "It is true, Blessed Berchmans has cured me." , The Sister infirmarian soon returned from the Chapel and made her'act of thanksgiving before a little altar in the, infirmary. I did not speak to her: in about three quarters of an hour Mother Superior came in to see me, fearing at the same time to find me in the agonies of death,--but what was not her great surprise when she met my eyes which had not been opened for six days and heard me wish 235 CLEMEN'T J. MCNASPY Review ?or Religious her good morning. Mother in utter amazement drew back and exclaimed: "and what, those eyes!" then s~eing my mouth perfectly healed.she added: "that mouth!" On and on, page after page, Sister Mary Wilson details her dreadful illness, how the doctors had given .up ,hope, and the aftermath of her cure. Equally impressive, also in these archives, are the sworn accounts of D~octors James G. Campbell and Edward Millard, both.of whom certify, in stolid.professional language, to the miraculo~us cure. Dr. Millard concludes in these words: N(~t being able to discoveb any marks of convalescence, but an immediate r'eturr~ to health from a most sever~ and painful illness, I am unable to explain the transition by any ordinary natural laws. I hereby declare under the sanctity of.my oath that the above state-ment, according to the~best of my knowledge and belief is entirely true. (Sig1~ed) Ed. M. Millard. M.D., Grand Coteau, La., Feb. 4th, 1867. Sister Wilson's close friend, Mother Moran, has for-tunately also left ah eyewitness account. Her sisterly sympathy for the young postulant so .eager to receive the habit is felt as we read along: ' Wednesday evening, Miss Wilson asked me if it was night; for her eyes being continually closed, she could not distinguish' between night and day.On hearing my answer, she rejoined: "I never more expect to see the l.ight of day. I cannot pbssibly endure such suffering much longer." - She then with perfect composure gave me several commissions, requesting me t~ attend to their execution after her death; she expressed her lfiappiness in dying at the Sacred Heart (Convent), and entrusted me with the expressing of her thanks for all her Mothers and Sisters from whom, she said, she had received so many p~oofs of affection and tender charity. Her weakness was so great, that-her voice was scarcely audible, and she spoke with such difficulty that it required over an hour to articulate these few" words. Next morning I was surprised to fintl her still living: this day, Thursday,. certainly surpassed all that had preceded, in the intensity-of pain; her half opened mouth displaying a tongue swollen, inflamed and raw, gums and teeth all 'clotted with black corrupted 'blood, 236 "SAINT APPEARED TWICE" excited an involuntary sensation of horror followed by a deeper ,senti-ment of the most. tender compassion in every one. who saw her in this condition. Mother Moran goes on to tell how exulta~ntly Sister Wilson leaped from what was thought her deathbed, and she reports the physician's reaction when he ~ame to visit his dying patient: Not being able to assign any natural ~ause capable of producing such an effect, .he several times repeated: '~Really, Miss Mary, I can-not understand it! But one thing is certain, if you recover, it is cer-tainly' not to medicine or to my care that you are to attribute your cure." - Among other interesting documents from the convent archives are the-sworn testimonies of Fathers Nachon, Benausse, and Serra, all from th~ nearby. Jesuit college, who had assisted the postulan.t with the last sacraments. Each of these Fathers writes in his own hand, in a personal way, with distinct individual touches. As you read along you wonder if they thofight it odd of Blessed John Berchmans to by-pass his own brethren's house to appear in a neigh-bo~ ing community. If they felt sensitive on this point they surely show no-indication of it: in fact, they seem almost proud that the Blessed had chosen one of their spir-itual charges to work perhaps his greatest miracle. More arresting, probalSly because less technical and formal, is a letter from Father Na~hon to a. Miss M~ry Perry, who would seem to be a non-Catholic. Writing enthusiastically just four dfiys filter the miracle, the~Father tells ~f tlqe fl~ry ~tirred up fill around Grarld Coteau~ ~The moral that he draws is~ possibly .l~ss significant in ourbwn. claywhen Loubdes and Fatima are so widely talked about. He writes: You see, child, that the time of miracles is not entirely passed away. There is nothing astonishing for us Catholics, since we know that~the saints are powerf.ul with God and that nothing is impos- 237 CLEMENT J. MCNASPY sible to God. We may rejoice it has happened amongst us because it excites us to devotion, and contributes to. animate our faith. No wonder that the Archbishop of New Orleans immediately started canonical proceedings to investigate the miracle.' Rome moves proverbially slowly, l~ut after tire-less probing and cross-examination the Church was at length satisfied and set its seal of approval on 'the mirac~- lous healing. It was officially accepted for the canonization of the young Blessed; who henceforth is' thought of as peculiarly belonging to Grand Coteau. For generations now the citizens of the little village have simply taken their privilege for granted. They are not at ali surprised that Heaven should have chosen Grand Coteau to break through to earth. And visitors usually make just that comment. For there are visitors to Grand Coteau, even though no one pushes publicity. Thereare the devoted alumnae who return to dear "Coteau" to see favorit~e old teachers or justthe hallowed, tastily land-scaped grounds. Students of the modern college, and academy attract relatives'and friends. And often enough devotees of azaleas, live-oaks, or Acadian lore are drawn to Grand Coteau. All these, quite naturally, spend some time in prayer in the infirmary. Periodically a .group of" retreatants from the retreat house will also come, and once a year the Jesuit novices and scholastics pay a pilgrimage of homage to their young con-frere. "The small room where the apparition took place has been cony6rted iiato a tiny chapel dedicated to St. John Berchmans. Onl~ two quiet mu~al~ and a notice placed where.the Saint stood remind one that this is one of Ameri-ca's treasUred shrines. "° " ,238 , A Pla°n of.Sei -denial Wi!:hin :he Reach of All Robert B. Eiten, S.J~ ~N ~CATHOLIC LIFE the principle of self-denial holds ~an important place. Yet it is a fact known to all that in i?his~ matter of self-denial there is danger of going to extremes--of failing either by defect or by excess. Those :who are too ,easy on themselves practically exclude the likelihood or even the possibility Of their reaching high perfection.; they go against the injunctions of Our Lo~d and the Chur.ch, and they oppose the common teaching .of ascetic writers. On the other hand, those who overstep their powers and go to the other extreme run the risk of broken health, shattered nerves, and even the loss of vocation. These latte} try to follow a special path without a special c,all; with only ordinary g.races at their dispoiaI they try to follow a way of life that is possible only with .e~xtraordinary grace. There havd tJeen, and there are, souls who have a special vocation to continuous heroic mortifica-tion and even vOluntarily-sought sufferings. These souls need" particular guidance; what we say here is not for them. But concerning those souls--whether priests, religious, or lay peoplemwho Seek high perfection with the aid, at least normally, of only ordinary graces, one might ask.: What~measure "of self~denial and mortification is to be expected of~ them? The answer to this question is~ con-tained in the following program. 1. To begin with, a large number of acts qf-self, abnega,ti0n and mortification can be practiced by ca?~fullg observing the Commandments, thelaws of the Church, and 239 ROBERT B. EITEN for Religious the duties of our state of life includiag the rules and customs of_our religious institute; and by patientl~l bearing those sufferings which a life of carff, ul and reasonable fidelity to grace imposes on us. This does not mean that one will never slip here and there;, for to observe peffectt~l over a long period of time the rules of at least some religious insti-tutes requires special graces over and above the ordinar!l or~es.~, It is well for religious to remember that this is no small program; for a careful observance of the rules makes. great demands in the matter.of self-effacement and morti-fication. St. 3ohn Berchmans declared that the common life was his greatest mortification. 2. Many sufferings, hardships, sorrows, and denials come to us in the ordinary pro.vidence of God. Some~times Divine Providence makes great demands. This was the case during Wokld War II when many, besides sufferingth~ loss of dear ones, had to er~dure such things as destruction of property, poor wages, nearly impossible rationing limi-tations, and so on. It is clearly the will of God that we bear such sufferings at least without complaint, and patiently. Sufferings of this kind may come to us from queer, sorts of cau.ses, cond.itions,, a~nd occasions. They~ .m~,ay come from superiqrs.,I from e~quals,, o.r frominferio, rs; from.t,he i~justice and frqm the justic~e of. others; from ,the sins, o.r.even from the generous but tastl~ss cha~rit, y of°others; or from inani-mate. creation, as~ ~n, othe cas~ "of bad Weather, t~ornadoes, floods, and so fbrth. 3: The, well-estab!ish.e~l and reasonable c.onventions, of polite society which make for proper refinement;~etiquette, ci~lture, neatness, and general social decency, algo provide 1Obviously the fact that we might be assisted only by ordinary graces should never be a pretext for carelessness in observing our rules. Thus we must seriously apply ourselves to their observance as far as we can and ask.God for the h~elp needed tO observe them perfectly. 240 _ '." ~JuJv, 194~5 ~ ~ ~ A PLAi~I OF.SELF-DENIAL~ ~ ~_ ~mucb material for self-abnegation and restraint. We, ought -~to respect these conventions" i'n a spirit of love" of the neigh-bor for the love :of,God since-these things make'life more ~ livable. Theie is r;o reason why their observance cannot-be ~upernaturali~ed. Included here are, such-things as table _ .manners, which should be exquisitely delicate but Without _.affectation; deanlinehs and neatness about our person,. office,- and room; .proper restraint in both the quality and.~ oquant~tg of' food; proper deference shown towards certain /persons.by reason of their age, sex, and rank;~ politeness and the avoidance of all vulg~arity; and, in general,, restraint in our conversation. "- Here it is well to include the mortification involved correcting deflects of disposition" and character. These -('&fects make Us deficient and negligent in the performance . our,duties and their are annoying to others. Slipshod .work, absent-mindedness, failure to return things, frequent boast" fulness, sarcastic language, a ~failure to keep appointments, "all are examples of the defects here referred to. In brief, we should always be and act the perfect, cultured Christian~ gentleman. We may well keep in mind St. Anthony'.s saying_that a saint would be-at home in any society. Such. deportment too (to dwell on another point casually) would be an effective means of fostering and getting voca, tions, oY°Ung people would be fascinated by what they. see -in us and would want to share with us that life which seems _to bring with oit, as it should, such refinement, culture, and fine iense .of propriety. ~ 4. Besides the foregoing instances of the cross which, ° wd~might say, are imposed upon us, there still remain mor~ ~tificati0ns and sufferings which we freely impose on our-~ Selves. ~ In other words they are entirety-voluntary, ~vith-" ' out° any obligation of i~recept or necessity~ All founders ROBERT B. EITEN ~-°-~ " ' Reti~ew for Religious; -of tel.i~i6us orders and all great spiritual~ writers, agree that voluntary penances are in some way an essential element of serious" tending towgrds perfection. Besides-the exercise humility and the cross, these v~oluntar~r penances prsvide,.~ for the.exercise of other virtues. o True, these voluntary mortifications must be practiced° prudently .and under the directi6n of the superior or of a goqd spiritua~l director. Norm.ally we should not, orat least need not; wait for them to propose what v61untary mortifications are to be practiced. Usually such things as ¯-spiritual attractions, reading, the insi)irations of gra~e, and~ so forth will suggest to us what might be done. After thiriking over the matter seriously, we propose, to .our. superiors or spiritual directors what vol~untary mortifica~ tions we .would like to practice. We then follow out their directions. This obedience will protect us against excesses ",in ~ith~r direction. Of course.no one needs permission to practice any of the mortifications mentioned or suggested under No. 3~ above.~ In spite of all the safeguards provided,by consulting,, and following the advice of superiors and spiritual diiectors in this matter, there remain sd,me obscurity and uncertainty - as to what and bow much voluntary mortifica.tion should ¯ be undertakenl An excellent practice might be, perhaps~. to,ask God to. send us in His providence those physical and , mental sufferings which are proper to help us reach.tl'iat~ d~gree o~ perfection to which He has called us. Such a request, if it is sincere, includes the firm resolve to conform ~ourselv~s to His will in all sufferings and hardships__w~hich He-may fiend us. ' 5. Fi~nally, it is not too much to expect fervent souls to, have at least the desire to .desire affronts, humiliationk re~'roaches, misunderstandings, and so forth. A better, dis- positidn:wouldbe to d~slre, tolong for, and to love thes~;~: ver~ things just to be like Qbrist and to help Him mo~e~" ~ffectively in the great workof the redemption. : However . ~ofi"hcco~nt of human misery and frailt~ a soul might.not these ~eneroOs dispositions. If' one has, howeqer, the'desire_to desire these things, he is by that very .disp0si-tion ~rep.aring himself for an actual desir~ and love of. :~ffronts, humiii~tions, and.so on. 7 " Here we might add that souls ought to try to mairftain a ~pi~i~ of cheerfulness in all circumstances of life; whether -'these be e'asy to bear Or very tr~ring. S. uch a spirivadds much, me~it ~and abnegation to mortifications alrea'dy practi, ced. 'A~nd how such a c6nstaht cheerfulness impresses others f, or. the better! To be cheerful at all times're~u~ires gr.eat abne-gation- anal perhaps at times a special grace.Well mi.ght We, ask,God to give us this .grace. ,,:o ~ The t~oreg~ing program of self-denied seems to be pos-sible for all. No one-will ~oncede that- it is an easy one; ~and, yet no' one can Say that it is impossible. It is sweetly: r_easonablg, not violent; yet it will make us like Christ ~Crfi~ified and will make us active collaborators with Him in the g.reat work of the redemption. '~?' P~erh£ps someone, may ask why nothing has been said~ ,.~bout gictim souls, that is, souls who offer themselves and their whole lives with all the sufferings, ti:ials, humilia-tions, mortifications, and so forth contained:therein to Gbd ::.~":jus~ as Christ did upon His entrance into the~ world °-(.~f: Hebrews 10: 5-10.) By. way of reply we may say that: souls who feel themselves supernaturally" urged to ~:his kind of offering, may follow si~ch an urge. Obviously tl~e motive for so doin~ may vary. ,It might, for example be to offer self for the' same intentions that .Christ had; or tb fill':up in one own s flesh~ what is wanting in C.hnstos ¯ o - . 243 ~ROBERT B,~ EI~TEN = ,~, ~ pfission~ fOr"~the Church.-- f.~Colos~sians 1 : 24~ 5 : Thi~--- ~victim-life, th~s.3pds(Slgte-of the cross and suffe)~ag; i~ ¯ grand:vocation., It does not, however, n~cessarilg in~olve~. any more moriifica~ions tha~ tBose~ we have ~mentioned,butT only gives special force to the ~o~i)e f6~ beating them:. _ If however there is question of a victim-sohl in the limited sensd that is, of one who_ ~sks for exceptional ~uffe)i.ng, what should be done? .No~ally,~one should~ not ~.permitt~d to makesuch'a request for-sufferi~g,~asq~ -may show a lack of humility and can emily lead to illu- ~s~ons( But if it is clear that an-individaal-has a special vocation for this type of life, then such a one should fi~stbe thoroughly,t~sted. After suNcient p~oof of the call to such a l'ife of ~uffering, the soul may offer itself to God in this very cult vocation. ~ ' "' " Let us hope that the abov~ Pr9grhm wiil clarify -'t}rs,fo~ us and that we.may "by the mercy of God"~present :our '"~odies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto"God; ~0fir] re~sonable service" (Romans 12;, 1).= . ~I am 'much indebted to De Smedt (NOtre vie surnaturelle, volume 2, "pp.~472 252) not only for much of the ~aterial- found here but also in some wag fdi~the i~spiiation to write this article. ~ -~ .APP[AL5 FOR VOCATIONS ~ .~ ~he following vocation folders and pamphlets rely chiefly on excelle~t and well cffosen photographs to make their appeal: Modern Samaritans, from the NoVitiate "df~ the Alexian Brothers. Clayto~. Missouri: How about gou? (an appeal t~pros~ pective ~riest candidates) and Co~e In (an appeal for fay. Brothers), b6th from "~th~ Dominican House of Studies. River Forest, Illinois:'A Life to Give, from th~ Sisters of St. Casimir, 26.01 W. Marquette Road, Chicagq 29, Illinois: Dominican Sisters: St. Marg o~ the Springs, from the Novitiate.-St. Mary 6f tile Springs, Columbus 3. Ohio;Whg a Hospital Sister? by Rev. Dr. L. Rumble. M.S.C., fiom Radio Reply Press, St. Paul, Minnesota. * Our Ladg's Fz, ends, by Rev. Ju~ Senieur, O.F.M.Cap., describes the work t~e R~gina ~leri Society for the spiritual and financial suppprt of priestly and reli-'~ gious vocations. It. is .published by the Catholic Uni4ersity Cofiference of-Clerics and Religmus. C.S.M.G,, Cathohc Umverslty, Washmgtqn 17, D. C.~ . :~ '-- " 244 - "~,HE visitor,~a gray-hai~ed alumnlus of th~ college~, ~was [~, movifi~ about the° crowded recreation room o[ the faculty" friars, greetirig old acquaintances and ~aking new ones. He approached a card table where, over unfin-ish~ ed pinochle, three.~ unfamiliar friars stood awaiting him. "Tom Casey, class of '13," he ~smiled brgadly, hand extended. "Onesimus," .smiled back the first. "Eleuthe[ rius," smiled back the second. "Symphorianus, smiled the third. And albeit no stranger to Franciscan-phenomena. Tom Casey, class of '13, blinked hard and made a que4~r frog-like noise in°theback of his throat. "Where do you peo131e[get those names?'" he dazedly wondered. Here were names not found.~ven in his prayey-book Litany of the~Saints-though .surely there are enough odd ones in that long list! NOr had he ever, iffal[his long years and his wide travels, encountered those names among the living. If~the~y reminded him~of anything~subsolar at all, it:wa~ of Pullman sleeping cars---or of the Latin play in hi~:.4ophbfiiore year:~or of just" plain "printer's pie:' '~ What a downright shame, his meditation concluded, that nbr~ m~il"youhg men, oprobably christened :John, Wflham, Pat-rick; should now have to confront mankind as Oneslmus, "Eleutherlus, Symphorianus! -~ ~" Undoubtedly,~the religious n~mes of many of~us~d6 ~starfli~ the si~cular eai. They may at first hav~ ~tarfiede v~e ~n our ~own. Wi~: i~robably had "h.oped for something, con[ ventio~al; but the superior, with the finality"~of Z~icl-Jar~, siinply ~declared, "This is hi~ (or her)" r/am'e," and uttered bizarre syllables. A'ndothat was'that. Or, if permitted to CLAUDE KEAN Review for Religious choose our names, we probably found the community's nomenclature as depleted as Kresge counters at closing time on Christmas Eve; and what we got was what all earlier customers hadjudiciously foregone. So the names that many ,of us bear are admittedly unusual. Are they, therefore, absurd? Or may it not be that, compared with the proper names of many layfolk (names which were selected from unrestricted possibilities), our abnormal names are actually quite normal? or oub apparently mean-ingless names are at least relatively, fraught with remark-ab, le significance? From stray evidence now and then I have long sus-pected that the answer lies in our favor. From a half-hour of recent research, I now know for certain that it does. The "research" consisted in a mere scanning of proper names in the.telephone book of a representative eastern clty of the United States. Under the A alone, I found a hundred proper names, male and female, much morfi extravagant than any ever imparted to friar or monk or Sister¯ or Brother. ' To be specific, who. of us, even though destine~dot9 teach geography, is named Maryland, .or Virginia,; 6r,Columbia, or Dallas; or St,aten, or~ Reno? O~who of u~, e,ve ~n~th0.u.gh a ngt,ed nature-lover,. ~ . .bears the. name of Fern,~.~,or,Ivy, or Myrtle, or Reed, or. Violet, or, Daisy,~ or Pansy?., ~ Or ,who of .us, e.ven,thgugh avowedly interested in the classic, long,ago," wears toga-like the name of Homer, or Ca.to, or ~.~Virgil, or Caesar, or th~ myrtle-laden name of Phoebe, or Penelope, or Vesta? Or what choleric character among us is openly known as'Hasty?--what phlegmatic as Tranqu.ilisim~?-- what cynical as Burr?mwhat loquacious as Verba or Vow, els? Yet, as the telephone book plainly attests, laymen who possess these given names do walk and breathe, 246 SPEAKING OF NAMES A few names that occur-under theosame letter A savor of surrealism: Bushrod,.Hedgecomb, Hunk, Whip. Others would seem to suggest endearment: A1icebelle, Birdie, Bowie, Dernie, Goldie, Hommey,-Libby," Shorey, Sibbie, Trudie, Wadie. A sizeable percentage looks yearningly,- though uncertainly, towards the glory that,was Rome and the grandeur that was Greece: Aetha, Al"eathea, Cleora, C1evius, Euna, Iola, Lathena, Lesbia, Nova, Orpha, Thea. Several others walk in veiled oriental mystery: Arsinoe, Bayan, Desma, Zelma, Zetta. There is something of a faded Elizabethan charm in Clift, Bourne, Dell, Teare; and something suggestive Of remote constellations yet undiscovered in Arie, Angrous, Elsir, Louv~enia, Norment, Ord, Sigrid. The rest, howeyer symbolic, are not ~iuite clear in their allusions, and must be listed as mere vocables: Alonda, Armeita, Awillda, Beekman, Belva; Buxton," Demleta, Ena, Grice, Kermit, Lola, Lona, Lora, Ponten-ciano, Reta, Rulloda, Velma, Wilda, Worth. Now, it is no concern of mine--apart from the admin-istration of baptismmwhat names people bestow upon 'their offspring. In the exercise' of American freedom of expression, they may even, if they so wish, prefer numbers to names. (Ripley discovered not long ago anAmerican youth with the proper name of "Eleven."). Nor-do I in the least imply that odd names denote odd characters, that "that which we do call a rose by any other word would" not "smell as sweet." My sole contention is that, as mere~ alphabetization, the secular nomenclature equals in singu-larity, and .frequently even excels, the religious. And ~he Bell Telephgn¢ Company is. my star witness. But names are more than vocables: they are symbols. And the modern secular trend in names indicates the com-plete secularization of modern thought. Gone now are 247 CUAUDE KEAN Review/:or .Religious the.days~when~ the-names of~_men-=:as well as of the,ships they° sailed,and the ,new lands they discovered--were drawn from the rich vocabulary ~of Catholk,Faith. Gone,~ too, for the most part, are the days when devout Protestants turned to their Bibes in search of worthy nami~s for their newborn. In an age turned materialistic, men are more and mor'e taking ~their names not from God's great, but~from the:world;s great: from poets and philosophers of, a~cient Rome and Greece;. from~literati~urs of later eras (my tele: phone~ list includes Milton, Addison, Scott, Emerson, Haw-thorne~) ; from .modern scientists, like Burbaiak and Edison, and modern statesmen, like Roose~celt and Churchill. ° In even'.m6re articulate expressionof, th~ materlahstlc spirit if has now b~6m~ th~a~epted prhctice tona~e pkr-s6ns fiot¢.Mte~ other persons~ but affei things hft~r flbra . and:fauna,~ and geograpb~cal~it~s; and '~vefi mechanical objects.~ -This~ ph~ndmenbfi wOuld, to~do:i~'.ju~tlce~ ~req~i~ a Chesterton's~afysis: :.~ut,ev~n'on tge gu~face~ ~4t, to c~!l,~a.gifl ~'Petunia;,)'.;~or a;boy "Ohio", or '~Derrick":. '(and theg~ does.~,exist, a.[.b~y with: that name), is2 nbt]perceptibly ~ny;~more~?ra.tio~al.~,than. to. call ~a ~favorite .p.etuma.~ . Ger-tr~ fle,:5,or~.the stxte of OhiO~"Harold,'' or a~derrick,,,on 4be property', , "~ rl' .~1,~,- .".d" " , ¯ '~ '~ -,-~ ~. - :~ ~TBa'~: be ,to,hea~n, ~he~.figm?s" that we~rehg~ous-bear ar~,the -names obpersons. , ~nd" at"that,~ no ord~narF per-sgns: -Pe~ha~s~hose'p~rs6nshv~d m~the fat-off ~ast. "Per-ha~ little' i~'kfiooh Oaboot-them~x~pt ,tfi~t "a ~N~o or'3 Tr/j~h~r'~fi ,Diocletiah ~Ut th~ to death:; W~rid has not e~n th~"vag~egt memory 6f~the~.~-'rYet~they are the truly gr~at"~of"the 'h6~an race;.and ~God knows them~well., In their :flames ~we have inherited a, lustrous lggacy~ of honor, ~ special tide-to: protection and~aid. And in-.those names~ we h~ve~,6ur~inspiration fovholy living and DECISIONS OI/: THE HoLY SEE. dying--as :Ruskin .words it; . l~ifting hol.y hands without-wraith, and sinking to blessed ~sle~p.withoht fear." So what 6dds if ~the lay-w0rld pities 0r plllor,es us fdr ohr names? 0 What odds if not one person in ten cab pro~ nounc~e those, names fl~uently, and~,,not one in twenty can ~spell them correctly? We know the inner worth of those flames. And as to their ,outward form, well, an occasional glance at the telephone book will afford us unfailing peace hnd satisfaction. ~ .~o~yember'21, 1945:o The Sac~'d P~nite£tiary announced th~/t His " Holiness Pope'Pius XI~i in ari audience granted to the Cardiri~l Pen[- . tenfiary M~jdr ~n Ndve~ber 8, 1~45, h~d gracio~s~ grafit~d t~al indulgence o~ fifty days to the f~thful who devoutly,k~ss the ring of a p~efect apostohc. Th~s ~s t~ same indulgence which the faithful may gain by devoutly k~ss~ng the r~ng of an archbishop or bishop (Pr~es et Pta O~era, n. ~}0). Prefects apostohc are prelates'in m~s~ slon countries who govern a t~rr~tory call~ a prefecture apostohc. Usua!ly they. are not b~s~ops: h~fi~ the special ~r~nt recbunt~d 'abd~. Pemtent,ary answered ~ree questions regarding the p~ous exerc,se of the Way qf the Cross: I. According "to a decred.,dated August 6, 1757, it~ is~provided that for the pious exercise~0f the Way df the Cross, when otherwise a disturbance might be daused, a~priest and two clerics or cantors may ~ake the rounds, pausing at each station and reciting the accustomed prayers, while the faithful ie~ai~ing ia' their places give the responses. Question: Does this de~i~e.~ hold~ .only fgi, th~ ~.bublic~, exercise~ of the Way of the Cross made in a church, o~ does it hold ~hefi this exer-cise is m~de~by religious in their chapels?. - Answer: In the a~rmative to the first part, in the ndgative to the second. II. Questior~: Whether under the circumstances-mentioned in the decrees of Februa~'y 27, 1901, and of May 7, 1902 namely, when 2~49 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE all the religious cannot go in a body from station to station in their chapel without causing a disturbance be~cause of the smallness of the place they can gain the indulgences connected with the i~ious.exer-cise of~the Way Of the Cros~ i'f only one re, ligious (B~roiher or Sister) makes the rounds f~om station to station and reads aloud ~the accus-tomeffprayers, while'rthe rest remaining in their places rise and genu-flect there.for each station? Answer: In the affirmative. " III. Question: Whether in the same circumstances already de-scribed for religious and following the same method, the faithful who live a common life, as mentioned in canon 929 of the Code of Canbn Law, can gain the indulgences attached to the pious exercise of the Way of the Cross if one man or woman, respectively, makes the rounds of the stations of the Wa.y of the Cross and recites the cus-tomary prayers? Answer: In the affirmative. Questions I and II tell us that in a religious community chapel it is not necessary to have the priest recite the prayers for the Way of the Cross; it suffices for one of the religious, Brother or Sister, to make .the rounds from station to station and to recite the customary pray-ers. ~ This has be~n explained before in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (I, 1942, p. 424; IV, 1945, p. 61). Question III extends the same privilege to communities of the faithful living a common lifb, for instance, nurses in/training in a h~pital, old folks living in a home, orphans, studehts at a boarding school, an~ so forth, so that the group may gai.n the indulgence in the chapel if one of their number, man or woman, makes the round of the stations and says the accus-tomed prayers, while the rest remaining in their places answer the prayers and rise and genuflect at each station. OUR~CONTRIBUTORS o ~LAUDE KEAN is on the faculty of Holy. Name College~ the Franciscan house of studies, Washington. D. ~C. He formerly taught at St. Bonaventure College anc~ served as spiritual director of the Franciscan Brothers of Brooklyn. W.H. HING-STON is spiritual director at ~lesuit Seminary, Toronto. CHARLES F. DONOVAN has just completed a year of ascetical study at St. Robert's Hall. Pomfret Center, Connecticut. CLEMENT ~1. MCNASPY is a professor of classical languages at St. Charles College, Grand Coteau. Louisiana. ROBERT B. EITEN, a professor at the University of Detroit, is much interested in ascetical subjects. CYRIL VOLLERT and ADaM C. ELLIS are members of the theological faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, K~nsas. 250 Two I-[eart:s* W. H. Hingston, S.J. IN HIS RADIO address at the close of the Fatima jubilee (October 31, 1942) Pope Pius XII consecrated the wsrld to the Immadulate Heart of Mary. In the same year, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, he pub- -licly repeated this. consecration and ordered that, as a per-petual memory of this solemn consecration, the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary should be celebrated annually in the universal Church. In obedience to this, order the Sacred Congregation ' of Rites had a new Office and Mass com-pose& and these were presented .to the Holy Father for approval on December 10, 1943. A decree of the Congre-gation of Rites, dated May 4, 1944, which incorporated the text of the new Mass and Office, ordered that the feast 15e celebrated annually on the Octave day of the Assump-tion, August 22. ' Despite the fact that the decree promulgating the feast was issued two years ago, this year may be the first Oppor-tunity for many of us to make,~use of the new Mass and Office~. The occasioh seems an apt one for recalling some of the basic thoughtspertinent to the devotion to the Immacu-late Heart of Mary, and particularly for considering the relation of thii devotion to theworship of the Sac'ted Heart of Jes~us. Obviously there is an intimate link between the devo-tion to Mary's Heart and tha(which we render to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The same saint was employed by Provi-dence to initiate simultan, eously both devotions. No hearts *This article appeared in slightly different form-in The Canadian Messenger of the Sacred Heart, December. 1945, pp. 778-782. It is reprinted here with permission. 251 .W.~ H. HINGSTON Review [or Religious were ever so united by resemblance and by affection as those of .Jesus and~ Mary. The very flesh of Jesus came from Mary alone through the power of the Holy Ghost. Yet under,the outward likeness of the two beautiful devotions there are fundamental differences; and it is the purp.ose of this a~rticleto set forth briefly the resemblances and the dif2 ferences as a help toward an und~rst~indirlg piety. ¯ There is an essential 'difference to b~ observed from~the oai'set between the Form fff devotion paid to the Sac}ed Heart of Jesus and that paid ~o the Heart of HiS Moth'~r, .be.cause of the fact that in one instance veneration is ren- "d~red tO a divine Person and in the other t0a human son. Since all devotioh goes to the person whom we invoke or honor, it is e¢ident that there must be an infinite distance in this regard between the cultus of the Heart of the God- ¯ man and the cultus of the Heart of .Mary; between honor shown to God_and that shown to a creature no matter how highly favored. ~ To mark t~is essential distinction it seems pre, ferab, le, when speaking of the~ heart ofMary alone and'apart from the heart of Jesus, to use .the words H61y Heart. 0f.Mary, or Immaculate Heart, or Most"Pure Heart of Mary: rati~r than '"Sacred'" Heart ofeM~ry. That i~s whhtthe~Church d6es. Sh~ employa the.title Sacred Heaitof M~ry onl~ in the combified "title of ihe Sacred "Hearts of 5es~s and Mary. Apart°from t'h!s~ preliminary consideration, which.is of a general nature and recalls that first and most essential dis~ tinction which is never lost sight ofo by Catholics but is s~mply taken for granted, there ale other .important dis-tinctions to be made. They relate to the-three chief way~ in which we can co sider a~ay°devo~iofi, or:t0 tde t fire leading aspects under which a dev6t~on may be stud~ed. These are: i'ts ma.,terial object, its f6~mal obje~ct, it.s sp~dia.l 252 appeal~:-i'Th,ough these.wolds ~ay~ ~ound a bit 'technica),~: ~:.-x.~_~;tlSey-~ire very Useful :and '~ccurate;~ and we have all ::.(~li~rized ~ith them thrs~gh~the explanatiSns ~whidh-~e ~a~e Often~h~eafdof the de~otion to the.S'acred Hea;t Jesus. Now on each of these three fundamental ~eadings, ~;~Which together sum up a devotion, the differences between_ "~he~cultus of the Heart of Jesus and that of the H~art Mary are mgmficant and p~ofound. ¯ ~ -~irst~ then, as to the material object. In both devotigns .~a humafi heard.of flesh is presented forour veneration. Yet " ~t Once,we note a profound difference. ~The hea?t of Jesu.s :~" isin ~tself an object of ~doration. It is adorable because ~ is g~a~t.Bf that ihdividual human gature which the Divine :~ ",W0rd" mbec~0 m"m g " ~ncarnate took to H"~ m s~elf and" made Hi_s .Very own.~ It' is part of Him. Though a created object, ~-t~gfigh-a mgtenal thing, ~hough Buman flesh, .~t ~s ~he.heart ~f the Son of God madeMan. The honor, we kh~w /'~ m~s~inciude ad;ratiom "In contrast to this; iff the --,:~ 2~i~n ~to .the heart of Mary such ~eneration i~ refid~fed as~" ~ay~ be paid to a 5feature, b~t nothing o~ the adoration. ~ t~at belongs to God Mone. - N~vertheless, adoration is not the .principal act in th~ ~Tdevotion ~,t~ .the Sacred Heart. The human h~art.of the ;~Sa~ior is:~resented to us nbt primarily.that, we may r~nder ~-~,adoration~ bui because of what it stands for, the hu~" -heart:being the natural symbol of human love.~ T. he_~ight 6f the heart of Jesus spontaneously calls to mind His human -i~ l~ve,for His Father and for us. Uoiversally the he~r(is ~.,. looked upon .as the organ, or at least the symbol-of,ldve. ~So fiatural_a symbol of love is it, that in every lan~uhge the h~art.of a ~an is taken for his inward dispositions.--Aman" ~:. <" .- who - is generous, kind, sympathetic is spoken o~" as big--. ~,'hearted, ~tender-hearted, and so f~rth; or else; if he m~ni- 253 ,W H HINGSTON , ~ ,7~ * ~ ~Reoteto for Reltgtous ,, fegt no such pleasant~characterlstlcs,~ he is spoken of as hard-., h_eart~d, cold-hearted, heartless.~ - --~ N~w that thes~e preliminary observations .have beeri ~ade, we daft completeour statement regarding the materml - j,obj~ct i~ the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus~an'd,say' F_hat it-is His heart of flesh taken as the natural symbol Of " His hhman lo;¢e. The natural sy.mbolism of the heart p.la~cs a large pii,~t in the devotion, which would not be underitandablewith-.-. out'~t. In the devdtion to Maryls Heart on the contrary, the symbolism of the heart is faint and not at all empha-. sized, ,th~ reason being that it i~ not.so much her~love as her pUrit~y and her fidelity that we consider. Our attentibr; ~alled far more to the purity, htimility: and. Other vir~ue~ of ithat most faithful heart than to the~ qualities of its love., It ts~ riot hard to discover the reason why in the,devotion to t~he Heart of Jesus such emphasis is placed on the natural sym-b01ism of the heart, and why such emphasis, is lacking, from, "the'~correspbn.ding devotion to the Heart of His Mother. This will become still more apparent when we consider the_ ,f, ormal object of each devotion. A first difference between. "the t~vo devotions is thus found evenin the matefial object; which in both devotions is the heart of flesh, but in ~ach t~e~ ~ l~eartfis viewed under a somewhat different asp, ect. ~A setond and more pronounced diffe~rence lies ifi tl'ie~ - .formal object of. each,, d~voti6n. - The formal object of the devotion to Jesus' Heart is His human love for m~n. ,-,, Note in'the first place t.hat it is His human love which is stressed: -~a'ther 'than His divine love. Coeterrial with the FatheY~' '/he Wor& the~Second Person of the m6st adorable,_Trini_ty~, ,has known from ~everlasting and has loved witff an eteriaal love,each one of us. Yet it is not this eternal lovebelonging -to His divine n~ature that we c~nsider in His Sacred Heart:,,~ ~, ' dul~l, 19~ 6 "~ ~ ' ' TWO HEART~. . .~ We~ read-therein His huma~-10k~e. The symbolism of the heartdna.kes this perfectly clear, for tl~ heart i~ the symbol ~ of h~uman love, no~of divine love._ Besides, the love'of ['Jesus is presented to us as a suffering love, andonly the" .human in Him can suffer. " We venerate the human love b_y .which a divine Person loves us. Yet Christ's eternal love 5, belonging to His divine nature, though it is not and cannot properly be symbolized by any .natural symbol," is by no, ,means excluded from this°devotion. -After all, we love that ,Person Himself who loves us and suffers for u , and Him as He is, whole and entire Hisvery self, .the~ one living principle of a lov~ that is both human'and divine. The.Woid having been made flesh, having becorhe P0S- - sessed of a human °nature like ours, now loves-with a love that began only at His Incarnation, that is truly .human,- -xhat is ~harged with all the emotions of man's spiritual will -*and is colored with all those feelings that have their roots -., in- the sensitive part "of man's bodily make-up. Christ, though~a divine Person and not a human person, loves even ¯ in the, manner that human p~rsons love. He experiences, 'tOo, the consequences of human love, even to the suffering ~ Which unrequited love entails. The greater the capacity_ ~-~ .for loving, the greater the capacity for. suffering. The more -. rintense and unselfish theaffection, the ,greater the anguish-when such affection, goes unrecognized .and is not returned: Note in th~ sed6nd place' that it is Jesus" human love ° ~or. men that. is .the formal object, rather than His htiman 10re for His Father. Undoubtedly Christ, in the-human" nature that He had made His own, loved FIis Father with a,_ll the strength Of His human will; yet it is not this lmre -for His.Father that is dwelt upon, but His love for mdn_. '-"Behold the Heart which has so,'loved men," were His words to St. Margaret Mary. In contrast to this we find that in the devotion to the" Most Pure Heart.of Mary the formal object,, insofar ~is it ¯ is love and not fideli.ty, is love for her 3esus and for her _G~d, not her love for ma'nkind, at least not primarily her 10re for.mankind. We do not positively exclude from our-~ thoughts in this devotion the motherly ,love that she bears to all mankind; but our attentiofi is focused on something ¯ ~lse, rlamely, on the complete and unique absence of all self-love, on the absolute fidelity to grace, on the devotedness of-- M~ry's heart to God. . " Thirdly, there is the special appeal to be considered in each of .these two devotions, outwardly so alike. ,Here the contrast is most marked. In the devotion to_ His Sacred Heart, 3esus makes an appeal to us by His very love for to love Him i[~ return. He opens His breast, bares-His'heart - to us, reveals it afire with love for. us, bleeding for us, ~giving itself to uS without holding back anything, even t~o the Cross, even to the Eucharist; He even humbles Himself before us and shows us the wounds thiit our indifference and -. coldness have inflicted upon Him, piercing His v.ery heart. His fs a suffering love, arld.there is an awful pathos in'His hOpeal, t-he appeal of the~ Son of God begging of His crea~ tures the favor of being loved in return. Our Savior appea~l~. ~strongly to our feelings; but it would be a grave mistake 6n_ our.part and a complete misunderstanding of His plea were we to content ourselve~ with~ giving Him in answ~er mere;. ~ pious sentiments. He ga~e us deeds! He pleads for real reparation, exercised not so much in the way that at6nemen~ ~ is usually exercised, ~amely, by works of pe~nance, bfit° rather by works~ of love, especially through the ever more ,perf~ect doing of His Father's will and the perform~ance of acts ofde~votion towards Himself in the Eucharist. In "the devotion to the Most Pure Heart of Mary~ there" duly, 1946 " Two HEART~ -is also an appeal, of course, but it is not an impassioned appeal, nor are we besought to love her. She does not show us the love of her heart for us, as 2esus does, and beg us to love her in return. Unquestionably Mary has loved and actually does love us much, incomparably more than any one, save only her Son, has loved us; but there is nd allusion ~o this in her appeal. Mary's love is also like her Son's, a suffering love; and it is significant that those sufferings by which she shared in the Passion to such an extent that she is deservedly styled Queen of Martyrs were all endured in her sinless heart; for of bodily sufferings we bare no record. It is furthermore a historical fact that c6mpassion for the broken-hearted Mother--so bravely standing beside the.Cross, as St. 2ohn presents her, or with the torn and lifeless-form across he/ lap, as Christian piety has long depicted her first led the faithful into the sanctuary of Mary's suffering, heart. Nevertheless the sorrows 0f Mary form the object of a distinct.and much more ancient devo-tion in the Church; and in the devotion to the Most Pure Heart the thought of compassion is not prominent. The heart of Mary° is usually depicted encircled with fragrant roses to denote the flowers of many virtues, with~ which it is adolried, not with,thorns. The specia! appeal in this devo-tion is reilly a .very ge.ntle and very sweet and persuasiv.e invit~ition to highdr ~hings. ~ It is a call to .lead an interior life and to imitate the Blessed Virgin by purity of,life, ,by perfect.chastity~ of;th~ affectigns .which are to be. dlrect~ed ~ avcay"~ro, m°creatures,wl~oliy tO G~d, by the practice' of all those wrtues that are particularly dear to her Son. 2esus, because He is God, draws us by the cords of Adam to himself, to the Divinity. Mary because she is a creature draws us, not to herself but directly to her Son, to .her God, to Him who is in truth her child, born of her, yet 25.7 W. H. HINGSTON Review for Religious who can say of Himself: "I and the Father are one'.' (John 10:30). "Amen I say'to you, before Abraham was made, I am" (John 8:58). "Philip, he that seeth Me, seeth the Father also" (John 14:9) " The two.devotions closelycorrespondwith'one another, yet each in its own sphere. They are not on the same footing. Devotion to the Heart of Mary is really a beau-tiful pendant to the devotion to the Heart of Jesus. Her heart is, after His, the most beautiful thing in all creation, because in every way the most perfect copy of His. Upon such beauty the angels gaze in rapture. To portray it is beyond the reach of words. Yet in contemplating Mary's loveliness let us guard against the mistake of far~cying that her very greatness keeps her aloof, a sublime but ethereal beauty far removed from us, dwelling above all angels and saints in the court of the Most High. The symbolism of ~tie heart ought to save us frdm. this baneful illusior~ and should impress' upon us that Mary's is a warm and comfbrting loveliness, tender ~and sweet, and constant and motherly. The tho~ught of this should .fill us~ With confidence rather than with awe. Shh can be approached in all our needs and in our every mood. She can comfort as.none other can, for the heart of the Virgin Mother has experienced sorrow of e;cery kind and has ,known such depths of human v~oe tha~ all other anguish compared to hers must seem bearable and light. But, far and above all, tile heart of Mary overflows with joy; and no one can approach her in thought and no( feel happier for it. She takes her children by the hand and leads them straight to the Sacred Heart of Jesus along the way of encduragement, and hopefulness, and holy joy. The resemblanees between the two devotions are man, r and obvious. Reflection and meditation bring out the differences, and with clearer knowledge comes a deeper 258 July, 194i5 TWo HEARTS understanding of both these lovely devotions centered upon two human hearts that beat in unison. What does the devotion to the Most Pure Heart of Mary add to our devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus? It supplies an additional motive for trust in Him. Mary is so approachable, so understanding, so near to us! She is just one of ourselves. 'And withal how close she is to Christ! How dear to His Heart! How worthy by her stainless purity to plead the cause of us poor sinners with Him, who is the fruit of her womb, and to lead us to Him. Besides, a'better realization of the fundamental differ-ences thatexist between the two devotions brings out cer-tain aspects of the devotion to the Sacred Heart of desus which otherwise might never have been so clearly under-stood. In'this sense devotion toMary's Heart is seen to be a complement to the devotion to the Sacred Heart, which ii itself rooted in the mystery of the Incarnation, with which Mary was so intimately associated in the divine plan. But, best of all, there is the encouragement given us by Mary's life to lead an inner life. The attractiveness of . Mary's example is .best studied in its source, her heart. There we can appreciate the exquisiteness of her every action, feel the warmth of her tender affection, and breathe in the entrancing fragrance of her purity, which rises like incense in a pure white cloud from the selfless sanctuary of her immaculate heart. ANNOUNCEMENT It is even more ditScult to get pap~,r now than it was during the war. For this reason we are reducing the size of the REVIEW from seventy-two pages to sixty-four pages. The amount of matter in each number ~ri!l be about the same as we are using more small type than usual. .We shall return to the 72-page issue just as soon as we can get some guarantee of a regular supply of paper. 259 Recept:ion of Seminarians int:o Religious.lnst:it:ut:es Adam C. Ellis, S.3. ON JULY 25:194 l,.the Sacred Congregations of Religious and of Seminaries issued a joint decree regarding the reception of ex-seminarians into a religious institute and the admission of ex-religious into a seminary. This decision was duly" publi.shed in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (1, 1942, p. 71), as was also a private an-swe~ regarding the same given on May 11, 1942 (III, 1944, p: 67). A number of problems have arisen regarding this decree. Recently we received copies of Commehtarium pro Retigiosis which had been delayed by the war. One of these (XXIII, 1942, pp. 226-237) contains an interesting commentary on this decree written by His Eminence, Cardinal La Puma, then Prefect of the S. Congregation of Religious, who died in 1943. Although the Cardinal did not intend to give.an authentic interpretation of the decree but me.rely a pr!vate or doctrinal interpretation, as he himself tells i~s, yet since he was co:author of the decree there is no other person better qualified.to explain it to us; and we are happy to give our readers the substance of his commentary. We shall omit those parts which pertain to the reception of an ex-religious into a seminary, and confine ourselves to the parts which are of interest to-religious the reception of an ex-seminarian into a religious institute. For a better understhnding of the matter, we repeat here that part of the decree which pertains to our special subject: ~ "Likewise, before those who for ahy reason whatever have left a,semlna[y are a'd-miffed fo a religious family, the religious superiors shall have recourse to the S. Con-gregation of Religious, which will inform them of their opinion (;ud;clum) after having cons;dared all the circumstances of the case." The fact that the document issued by both Congregations jointl~r is called a decree should not be_overstressed, since-it provides little more than.a caution and a necessary re~medy to secure the faithful observancd of certain important prescriptions of t_he Codewhich have been treated too lightly. Much less is this document to b'e considered as a general decree, or new law, since it was not prepared in a plenary session, and it was not approved in focma speci~ica by the Holy Father. 260 SEMINARIANS RECEIVED INTO RELIGION The decree does not establish a new impediment to entrance-lnto' religion or into a seminary; nor is previous permission, properly so-called, to be asked from the SS. Congregations to admit a person into a seminary or into a religious institute since this is left to the proper superiors. The SS. Congregations are to be consulted; and after con-sider~ ng tl~e case,, they will give their opinion (iudicium) ; but thereby they'will neither admit nor impede admission, nor defer it, nor render it more difficult. The SS. Congregations had no thought or intention of. granting to Ordinaries, even indirectly, the faculty to oppose the flee entrance of' seminarians into religion except in the cases explicitly mentioned in the Code--that is, in the case of seminarians and other clerics in sa~red orders and even for these only within the strict and well considered circumstances mentioned in canon 542, 2°, first case: Let us now explain the terms of the instruction quoted above. By seminarg is meant an ecclesiastical.college in which those who aspire to the clerical state are,prepared according to the prescriptions of the law, even though a few lay students are admitted. ;A college to which both clerical and lay students are admitted almost indis-criminately chnnot be called a.seminary. To admit to a seminary means to receive a person as a seminarian; to be dismissed from or to leave a seminary supposes that one who has been a seminarian ceases to be an aspirant to the clerical state by reason of dismissal or voluntary withdrawal. To adn~it to a religious f~mitg means to admit one as a true member, that is "to the novitiate, of a religious institute in which pub-lic vows. are taken, but not to a society of men living in common without public vowS. The words "those who for any reason whatever have left ~a seminary" apply to those who are dismissed from a seminary by superiors as well as to those who leave voluntarily, thereby bidding farewell to their vocation to the clerical state, even though they do so unwillingly because of pressure brought to bear upon them from without. The phrase in question does n_ot apply to those who have completed their studies in a seminary and await ordination outside; "nor does it apply to those who have left a seminary in order to fulfill their, military service but intend to return afterwards, and thus do not renounce their vocation. What about those who Ieave a seminary because theg wish to enter religion? An authentic reply of the S. Congrega6on of Religious given to the question on June-25, 1942 says that "the decree does not 261 ADAM (2, ELLIS affect those who leave a seminary or college in order to embrace the life of religious perfection in some religious institute since these are provided for in'canon 544, § 3." Another class of seminarians who are not subject to the decre'e are those who~though they have truly left a seminary, either by reason of dismissal on account of a lack of talent required, for st6dies, or because they thought they were not called to the clerical state now ask to be admitted to the class of lay brothers in a clerical institute or as lag religious in a non-clerical institute. This means that an ex-seminarian in the strict sense of the term may not be admitted to a religious institute as an aspirant to the priesthood. He may, however, be received as a candidate for the lay brotherhood in a clerical insti-tute, or as a Brother in any non-clerical institute. There are some non-clerical institutes in which a few members are promoted to the priesthood while the majority are Brothers. In this case the ex-seminarian could be received as a Brother, but not as a candidate for the priesthood. If a religious superior wishes to receive an ex-seminarian in the strict sense, that is ohe who has been dismissed from a seminary or who has given up his vocation to the priesthood of his own accord, he must have recourse to the S. Congregation of Religious for its opinion on the case before he can admit him to the novitiate as a can-didate ~:or the priesthood. Meanwhile, however, provfded the superior has re~ceived ttie necessary testimonial letters and is morally certain that no impediments exist, he may admit the ex-seminarian in ques-tion to the postulancy or first probation preceding the novitiate while he awaits the opinion of the S. Congregation regarding his admission to the novitiate. In order to avoid useless delay, which may be harmful to voca-tions, the S. Congregation requires the following documents and tes-timonial letters, written or at least signed by the rector of the semi-nary: (1) testimony regarding the moral and intellectual.qualities of the ex-seminarian; (2) testimonials regarding studies made, as well as progress i~i them, and grades obtained in examinations; (3) tes-timony or opinion about the inclination or propensity of the aspirant towards the religious state; (4) finally, testimony regarding the reasons why the candidate left the seminary and the manner of his doing so, namely, whether he was dismissed or left of his own accord, and whether he left after finishing his studies at the end of the scho-lastic year. These dbcuments should accompany the petition of the 262 duly, 1946 '- BOOKS RECEIVED candidate and should be sent to the S. Congregation of Religious by the religious superior together with any other information which may be judged opportune, either in confirmation, or by way of example, or; finally, as a possible refutation of the statements of the rector of the seminary. Books Received (ApriL20 .to June 20) THE NEWMAN BOOK SHOP, Westminster, Ma~iyland. The Sacred Ceremonies of I2ow Mass. 'By Rev: Felix Zualdi. C.M. $2.00, More About' Fatima and the Immacidate Heart of Mary. By Rev. V. Montes de Oca, C.S.Sp. (No price given.) Life of St~ Stephen Harding. By J. B. Dalgairns: $2.50. A Mystic Under Arms. By' Ft. M:-Eugene Boylan, O.Cist.R. (No price given.) The Spirit of Christ. By Father James, O.F.M.Cap. $2.50. Counsels to Confessors. By St. Leonard of Port Maurice. $1.50. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, New York and Cincinnati. Spirit in Darkness. By Rev. Fr. Brice, C.P. $3.50. H. DESSAIN, Malines, Belgium. Caeremoniale: Pars Altera: De Celebrante. Auctc;r~ J. F. Van Der Stappen. (No price given.) THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. Wisdom /or Welfare. By Sister M. Dolorita, S.S.N.D. mentls in Genere. By Emmanuel Doronzo, O;M.I. $3.75. Shoulder.- By Rev. Thomas J. Hosty. $1.50. $2.00. De Sacra- Straight from the THE MARIAN FOUNDATION, San Antonio. The Golden Thread of Netoman. By ReV. William R. Lamm, S.M. (Paper). $.50 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, New York. St. Paul: Apostle and Martyr. By' Iglno Giordani. $2.50. B. HERDER BOOK ~OMPANY, 'St. Louis. The Mysteries of Christianity. By M. J. Scheeben. $7.50. Christianity: An Outline of Dogmatic Theology for Laymen. By Joseph H. Fichter, S.J. $2.50, JOSEPH F. "WAGNER, INC., New York, Scriptural References for the Baltimore Catechism. By G. H. Guyot, C.M. (No price given.) (No price given.) THE DECLAN X. MCMULLEN COMPANY, New York. Most Worthy of All Praise. By Vincent P. McCorry, S.J. ST. ANTHONY GUILD PRESS, Paterson, New Jersey. Frances Schervier: Mother of.the 'Poor. By Sister Pauline. 263 May a superior grant a Sister with simple vows permls~ion~ fO use a gold watch? A moderate use of an article made of gold is not. in itself, con-trary to the vow of poverty. This is evident from the fact ,that some constitutions approved by" the~HolY See prescribe the wearing of a gold ring. Frequently the constitutions or legitimate custom forbid the use of articles m_ade of gold. In such cases the superior dould not grant permission for the use of a gold watch. But if there is no such prohibition, the, superior may grant the permission, provided that the watch is not so expensive as to cause surprise to the faithful who see th~ religious wearing_it. This element depends upon. local circum. stances and customs. A possible solution for the 'problem involved might be'to have the watch removed from its gold case and put into one of less precious material. ~ 23 Accordln9 to canon law how many delegates are necessary to make up a general chapter representing a community of one thousand Sisters? May delecjafes of the general chapter of a religious communlfy induce other members o{ the chapter, before the election of the mo÷her general has taken place, to vote for a certain group of Sisters whom they wish have fpr council members? Canon 507, § to tells us that "in elections which are made by chapters, the universal.law as set forth in canons 160-182 shall be obsdrved, as well as the constitutions of the institute which are not contrary to this universal lawJ' The Code leaves th.e organization of general chapters of religious institutes entirely to the constitutions. Constitutions approved by the Holy See. usually provide that every house of twelve or more members is represented in the general chapter by the local superior and by at least one delegat~ elected by the mem-bers of the local community. Smaller houses are grouped together to form a unit of from twelve to eighteen members. This group then elects one delegate from among the local superiors and one from amdng the subjects. If the institute requests it, the S. ~ongregation of Religious will allow large communities one delegate for every twelve Sisters. Thus a community of fifty Sisters would be entitled 264 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS to elect four delegates from that community. Paragraph two of canon 507 states explicitly: "All must abstain from seeking votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others." This law is dear and needs no explanation. Howe:oct, the constitutions frequently allow the members of the chapter to seek information from other chapter members regarding the qualifications of certain individuals well-known to them. Insuch a case the mem-bers bf the chapter ~hould give the information required, but should abstain from positively urging any member to vote for another mem-ber. Their ~duty should be confined to giving the information requested~ according to the best of their knowledge, in all charity and sincerity. It may be well to note i~ere that 'the delegates elected by the indi-vidual communities sh0uld not be instructed regarding persons to be voted for. This would clearly be contrary to the canon quoted above: The community must have confidence in the good judgment of the delegates ,whom they elect. --24--- A college has regular tuition and board and room charges. Over and above these charges_there are fees in various departments for certain courses, for instance in home economics for food, interior decoration, and s6 forth; in the music department, for the use of musical instruments. In a~ word, these fees are for things used, for materials, instruments, and the llke. Tl~e sum total of fees charged in any department make up the budget of that department. Must such fees be used only as described or may they also be used for the general cjood of the department, for instance to buy supplies, such as records, in the music department; to give the students of that particular department an. outing; to finance a student's trip to-a con-ventlon as a representative of that department? As long as the fees charged to make up the budget of any si'ngle department are used in that dep~rtment~ both justice and Canon Law ate satisfied. ~:~he purchasing Of instruments and stipplies needed for -the laboratory experiments of the department are certainly for the benefit :of the students, and the same inay be said regarding the travel-ing expensesof a representative of the department who is sent to a .convention. And it is perfectly in keeping with the law of,'the Church to use any balance left over at the end of the year to give the students of that department an outing or some other entertainment " to which, payment of the fee for board and tuition gives them no right or cl:aim. 265 QUESTIONS AND ~NSWERS Review for.Religious ' m2Sm, Our constitutions havi~ the following provision regarding candidates for admission: "Their parents must have borne a good reputation; and should these have been under repute of any enormous crime, or have been condemned in any criminal court, the aspirants cannot be received." Does this artlcle of our constitutions oblige us 1o reject an aspirant whose par-enfs are divorced and remarried? Since the constitutions seem to have in mind a crime against the civil law and a condemnation in a civil criminal court, divorce and "remarriage would not come under the prohibition of the constitu-tions. The requirem'ent of a good reputation on the part of the par-ents looks to the edification of th.e faithful. One may say that the parents have lost their good reput~ition if the faithful would be scan-dalized by the admission of their daughter into a religious commun-ity. Hence in our practical case, if the divorce and remarriage are things "of the past, forgotten by most people, there would be no diffi-culty in receiving the aspirant. If they are recent events,, p~udence must dictate whether the reception of the candidate into religion would cause disedification or not. It may be well to note that the constitutions do not positively forbid the reception of the daughter of parents who have a bad reputation, as is the case in the second part of the article quoted. Hence it seems that such a candidate could be admitted even though her parents are divorced and remarried provided her reception would not cause scandal to the faithful. In some instances at least, it might be a cause of great edification: for instance, if it became known that the daughter was entering religion to aton~ for the sins of her parents. --26-- I heard recently of a community of Sisters in ~vhlch custom demands that they go to confession in seniority. Do you know if such a cu'sfom really exists? Would it not be against canon law? It seems to me that confes-sors' might easily recognize their penitents in such circumstances. It is not clear just what is meant here by going to confession "in seniority." If it means "according to seniority groups"---e.g. senior professed, then junior professed, then novices there seems to be nothing particularly harmful about the custom. This arrangement according to groups would simply facilitate good order and could hardl~r be a source of embarrassment to individuals. Very likely our correspondent refers to a case in which indi- 266 Julg, 1946 QUES'~IONS AND ANSWERS Oiduals go according to sepiority. 'We t6o have heard of such a custom, although we do not know of any definite pl_ace where it exists. Strictly speaking, this custom is not against the l'etter of canon law; at, least, we are not aware of any provision of law which forbids it." It'seems to us, however, that such a custom is not in accord with the spirit of canon law. For one thing--as our corre-spondent points Out" it makes it very easy for confes'sors to recog: nize ~oenitents, for if the confessor knows the community at all he will. very likely know something of the order of seniority. This is often embarrassing t6 a confessor and it.is also an obstacle to the perfect liberty of spirit enjoyed by a penitent. At least, many penitents can confess more freely when they are not recognized as individuals. An added inconvenience for the penitent, if individual seniority is insisted on, is the fact. that those who immediately follow her will always know ju,st howlong her confession takes. Also, if she does wish to take a long time, she may be embarrassed at the thought of delaying the others. m27-- What is the mind of the Church on such matters as havln9 contests between 9fades to have the most Communions in a week, and on havln9 compulsory Communion Sundays under those circumstances where the-external pressure on an individual to receive Communion is very 9rear2 The principle for solving questions like this was clearly formu-lated in a reserved instruction issued by. the Congregation of the Sacraments on December 8. 1938. The text of this instruction may be found in The Canon Law Dfgest, II, p. 208. A synopsis of the instruction was printed in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, III, p. 268. The same number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (III, p. 252) contained the translation of a very thor6ugh commentary on this instruction by Father Emile Bergh, S.3. For an adequate discussion of this impor-tant matter we refer our c~)rrespondent to the text of the instruction and to Father Bergh's article. Answering the question very briefly, we should say: Any prac-tice which induces pressure to receive Holy Communion is wrong and should be changed without delay. If '!spiritual treasuries," contests between classes, Communion Sundays, and so forth, are had at all, they should be conducted in such a way that all indi;ciduals will feel perfect freedom to abstain from Communion if they wish. 267 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revleto ~or Religious According to our constitutions, .the order of precedenc6 among .the Sisters is as follows: The .superior general always and everywhere precedes all the Sisters including local superiors. Then come: the general council- Ior~ accorcfing to the order of'thelr election; .the secretary general; ~the treasurer general: former superiors general in the mother house (in other houses they follow the local superior); the mistress of novices'. Is this order of precedence to be interpreted as ¯follows? (I) All general officers taEe -precedence over the local superior in pres;ding over the assemblies of~ the mother house community. In other words, in the event .that the superior cjeneral is not i~resent, who presides over the assemblies and exercises of the mother house community? (2) Just what rank and authority, does the Io~al s~perlor of the mother house hold in the mother house? (3) If the mistress of novices is a councillor and the local superior is not, does that fact dispense the mistress of novices from being subject ~o the local supe-rior and excuse her from a chapter presided over by the local superior? (4) Does a councillor stationed in any house other than the m~)ther house take precedence over the local superior? Before answering the specific questions asked above, it may be helpfial to analyze the concept of precedence. Precedence is a sign of g~e~ater honor because of greater e~cellence. It consists in the right to occupy a more honorable place i~a church, in processions, or in assemblies; or in the right to act before others. for instance, to cast a vote ahead of others. This right of precedence supposes-in the person who enjoys it a certain excellence or dignity which places on others the obligation of reverence or obedience to them. Among religious the right of precedence is conferred upon an indi-vidual religious because of th~ office which he holds. Such.an office may or may not have authority over others attached to it. Thus superiors in a religious institute (whether they be general, provincial; or local superiors) have precedence over their subjects by reason of their authority to govern them (canon° 106, 2°). Other officials such as councillors, secretaries, bursars, mistresses of novices, enjoy the right of precedence because of the dignity of their office .even though it does not carry with it any authority over other professed r.eligious. .From the foregoing' it is evident that in assemblies in which no authority is exercised, such as the presence Of a religious community in chapel for the recitation of the office or of othe~ prayers in com-mon, or attendance at meals in the common refectory, it is quite 268 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS r~asonable that-some officials enjoy" pre.cedence over the local superior', even though they-be subject to her in the external discipline of ._the house. They would rank higher in the order of preced.ence~ and would take.a higher.placein the chapel or in the dining room: but .they would not exercise" any, act of authoritg in either place: Such acts "of authority in general:assemMie's belong to superiors only, not to officials who do not enjoy authority over others by reason of their- - office. . The order of precedence in any particular institute is determined by t'he constitutions and by the customs of that institut~e (canon 105, 5°). The common law contains no provisions governing precedence of officials within a .particular institute. According to the present practice Of the S. Congregation,of.Reli-gious, precedence in religious congregations ,is as follows: (1) The superior general precedes all superiors, provincial as well as local, always anti everywhere. (2) The general councillors come next, in the. order, of their election, then the secretary .general and the treasurer general, but only in .the general mother house' in other houses they take their places after the local superior. (3) Former supe~riors gen- ¯ eral come after the treasurer_general, but only in the mother house. Some constitutions give precedence over local s.uperiors to the ~general councillors and to the secretary and treasurer general. Such provisions~ of older con'stitutions would prevail over the piesent practice of the S. Congregation. Any doubts, especially with regard to recently approved constitutions, should be solved according to the pr.esent practice of the S. Congregation. (4) The provincial superior has precedence in all the houses of his province; i~rovincial councillors, provincial secretary and treasurer take precedence but in the provinr cial house only: in other, houses they come after the local sup~erior. Regarding the local superior of the mother house: (1) She gov-erns the community of the mother house just as a local superior ggv-erns a local~ house, that is, in all things pertaining to the community as such,'but subject to (he limitation put upon local superiors by the law of the Church'and by the constitutions. (2) Evidently the superior general takes precedence over the local superior everywhere and at all times; she is not subject to the local S.uperior of the mother house. (3). Unless the constitutions or legitimate "custom~ have exempted higher officers and have made them-directly depend.ent on the superior general, the general councillors, secretary and treasurer ¯ general, exTsuperiors and so forth, are all subject'to the local, s.uperior 269 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS even thotfgh in public assemblies they take a higher place. (4) So,me constitutions provide that the first councillor or any one of the coun-cillors appointed by the superiqb general~ shall be local superior of the mother house. ' The mistress ot: novices and the novices are subject to the local Superior in all matters pertaining to the general discipline of the house (canon 561, § I). The fact that the mistress of novices is also a general couricillor would not change her relations to the local supe-rior of the mother house unless the constitutions or legitimate custom place her direct.ly and immediately under the superior general. In this latter case ~i distinction would have' to be made. In her official capacity as mistress of novices, she would still be under the general authority of the lo.cal superior together.with her novices by reason of the legisla-tion- of the Code; but in her private capacity ~s a general councillor she'would n6t, but: would be directly finder the authority of the. supe-rior general. We are ready- now to answer the questions asked above:. 1. In the absence of the superior general, the local superior of. the mother house presides over .all assemblies of the mother house com-munity. Officials--such as general councillors, the secretary general, the treasurer general--may precede th~ local superior in such assem-blies, that is they may occupy a higher place of honor; bfit they do not fireside, tl'iat is they do not exercise any authority, ianless legiti-mate custom gives them the right so to do. 2. The local superior~ of "the,mother house exercises the same authority over the community as such as does any other local superior over her community. All Officials, the superior genera.1 alone excepted, are subject to her regarding the general discipline of the house, unless -the constitutions or "legitimate custom have exempted higher officials from her authority and have made them subject to the superior gen-eral alone. If the mistress of novices is a councillor and the local superioress. is not, the former wo~uld still :be subject to the local superior in. the chapter of faults presidedover by the local superior, unless the coun-cillors have be~n~explicitly excused from such s.ubjection either by the constitutions or by legitimate custom. , 4. NormaIly a general councillor stationed in another house wh{ch is not the mother house does not take precedence over the.local superior unless the constitutions or legitimate custom explicitly so declare. 270 THE MYSTICAL'LIFE. By Pascal P. Parente, S.T.D., Ph.D., ~J.C.B,.A, s' s o "c,ate Professor of Ascetical Theology,. Catholic University of America. Pp. x ~- 272. B. Herder Boo~( Company, St. Louis, 1946. $2.50. This is the companion volume to the same author's The ~tscet[cat Life, which appear.ed two years ago and contained an announcement of this work. With it Father Parente completes his systematic sur-vey of the spiritual life, and gives us the first study of the kind to ema'nate from an American theologian. Thus it possesses a certain histo'ric~l distinction. In content it is just about what one would expect in a brief intro-duction to mysticism. The first part of it is entitled "General Aspects and Basic Elements of Mysticism," the. second "Mystical State~ in Particular," and the third "Mystical Phenomena."' The last chapter discusses the practical questions of direction for mystics, the perusal of mystical literature, the vocation to the mystical life, °and desire for it: Without saying much about the controversies which have enlivened mystical theology i~i recent years, Father Parente generally steers a middle course between the doctrines of the" extreme schools. \ He is a strong advocate for the distinction between acquired and infused ~onteinplatlon. Rather singularly and originally he pro-poses that the difference is neither specific nor one of degree,-bu.t one of iaianner, of the way in which contemplation comes to one. It is highly uncertain whether St. Teresa, for instance, and others who ha~e experier~ed the diversity, would agree that there is not a greater distinction. In describing the prayer of quiet, the first of the "infra-ecstatic states~,'' the author writes: "As a matter of fact, God by reason of His omnipresence does not enter but simply makes Himself known to the soul" (page 121). Is there any such perception or . experience in" acquired Eontemplation? The vocation to mystical graces is not universal, but, at least practically, restricted to a limited number ofsouls. 'It is rather characteristic of this ~rork that it opens with an inter[ esting account of the ancient pagan mystery cults. It contains rela-tively much from Scripture and also from the Fathers Of the Chfirch that illustrates or supplies analogues to mystical phenomena. The cases botfi of Teresa Neumann and of Padre Pio of Pietralcina, the 271 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Relioious first stigmatized priest, are .treated professedly. ~-G. AuG. ELL/~RD, 8.2. MEDITATION ON THE PASSION. Compiled from Varlou~ Sources, with an Introduction" by the Reverend Reginald Walsh, O.P: Pp. rift ~ 305. The Newman Bookshop, Westm. lnsfer, Maryland, 3946. $3.'/5. "Reaction to a meditation book, especially t'o a book on the P~is-sion, is aft'extremely personal thing. What strikes a responsive chord in one person may prove dull finduninspiring to another. Yet, in spite of the uncertain personal factor; this book is .likely to please and to be helpful to almost anyone who sincer.ely wishes good meditation matter on the Passion. The various chapters treat of the entire Pas-sion'with thoroughness, yet without that meticulousness that makes one nod drearilywhile preparing his meditation. The. points are well planned and gasiiy fixed in the mind. The reflections are sound and agreeably warm. The colloquies--well, it seems that in affy meditation book colloquies have to be taken as "the bitter with the sweet." At least, this reviewer (behold :the personal element!) would be well pleased: if all meditation books dis.pensed with the Ohs .and Abs that give colloquies the fingernail-on:the-blackboard effect. But it is only fair to say ~hat if you like colloquies, you will likethese; and if you do not like them, you can. easily skip them, for they are clearly labeled. The meditations were composed originally by a ~ister who was mistress of novicek for thirty years. The editor has omittedthe parts that applied to ieligious women as such; hence the present edition is useful (decidedly so) to ~ill.--G. KELLY, S.3. THE CATHOLIC CENTRE. By Edward Ingram_ Watkln.Pp. 261. Sheed' and Ward, New YorE, 1945. $3.00.- The republishing of this book Six years after its first appearance is subely, due as much to the book's intrinsic merits as to the fact that Mr. Watkin's more recent Catholic Art and Culture has made his name and w(~rth known to a greater number of readers. This earlier work takes its name from the fact that "Since Catholic Christianity is the supreme :and most complete revelation of religious truth, and the philosophy which it implies the most.balanced and comprehen-sive i.nt~rpretation of human experience, we shall expect to find Catholicism and the philosophy it demands occupying a central position between all extremes and one,sided excesses, reconciling and 272 dulg, 1946 ~ BOOK, REVIEWS balancing[them,by m~aintfiining the p~ositive truth they'contain'~aiad rejecting their~exce~ses and exclusions." The detailed exposition of the ways in which Catholicism is central,~ complemented realistically by the fa~t, that "As. actually~ practiced and understoo& ho.wever, Catholicism is not the perfect oia media, nor do.es .it occupy the exact centre of. human thought and action" because of~human 1.imi-" tations "gives, the author materi:~l for a skillfully integrated., bogk. He~outli~es the ideal, searches out and b~ings under a very uncom~ .plimentary spotlight remediable defections from the ideal; and pro-poses various readjustments by .way of constructive criticism: The attentive reader will not always agree with Mr. Watkin, but he cad hardly fail. to-be,prodded into serious thinkihg oi~ fundamental .questions.--C. DE MUTH, S.,J. MISSION FOR SAMARIT.AN$. By Anna Dengel, M.D. I~p. x -[- 126. The ~,:~ Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1945. $1.75. Medical rriissions is" a,live subject,in the Catholic' mind. Here we hav~.~short .bier-comprehensive treatment from the pen of a pioneer in the movement. The doctor'and the religious in Mother Dengel speak on every page. Not only is she a skilled practitioner,~but she hfis~studied ~he;history °bf:her :field thoroughly. Her statements,~are carefully~ weighed anff sulS~orted; by c0nvincing~evidence. ceeds in stirring the heart to an.appreciation for her ideal,~the win_ning 6fpagan souls for,Christ by~supplyin~ them with.the expert medical ~a~?e of religious .doctor~ and.nurses. Christ is responsible; :for the Catholic attitude~'towards the s!~ck: He first healed men's bodies and.then won their~souls: Mother Dengel has it ~thiit one purpose of His coming was to. renew the weak.ened h~man"body for.the sake of thesoul. She~ puts before us the response ofthe Church tboChrist's~example and precept. ~ Universal care ,of the si~k and°diseased'has flourished wherever~Christ's Church has~ reache& The lat~er half~ of the book is of intriguing'interest. ~ The medi-c~ il situation of mosto of,our mission~fields, includingeven the,,Negroe.s and white vagrants of America, i~ briefly but chpably described. Tbe picture is indeed pathetic, all the more so because ignorance, super-station, and~lack of facilities i~ccount for so much needless suffering. Mother De_ngel shows us ou~ opportunity: if with complete unselfish-ness we devbte ourselve~to the restoration of pain-wracked bodies, we can be sure that the grace of Christ, working through us,¯will take care of their souls. R.D. HUBER. S.J. ,.273 BOOK REVIEWS FORMING A CHRISTIAN MENTALITY. By the Reverend Killan J. HennHch, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. xll -t- 288. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., New York, 1945. (No price g~ven.) This book, designed as a companion volume to the :author's Youth Guidance, was written to aid priests, teachers, and parents in their direction of'young people. The work is divided into two parts. The aim of the first is to promote the spirttuahzatlon of individuals in their preparation for married life. The second part continues this project with a description of the Christianization of the famil,~ through the liturgy. Father Hennrich's qualifications for this task are attested by his many years of experience in dealing with'adolescents and by th6 dozen or more books he has written in the past several decades-on various phases of Catholic social activities. The exposition is rather abstract and impersonal, almost wholly unrelieved by graces of style, variety, or sprightliness. But preachers and educators who study the book perseveringly will find that it outlines a sound program for the instruction and religious guidance of young men and women. C. VOLLER'I', S.~I. HOW TO MEDITATE.BY Rev. John P. Roothaan, S.J. Translated by Rev. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. Pp. viii + 72. The Newman Bookshop, Westminster, Maryland, 1945. $1.25. First published in 1837, Father Roothaan's little treatise De Ratione Meditandi has become the classic exposition of the so-called "Ignatian Method'" of prayer. Not that St. Ignatius ever intended that religious and other pious persons should confine themselyes to this.rigidly methodical form of prayer for the rest of their lives. He himself "suggests bther forms in his Spiritual Exercises; but he intended it to serve as an introduction to and foundation for a life of prayer. Hence the translator tells us in his introductory note: "It is an undeniable fact that here even the most unlettered beginner will find a clear, easy, fruitful method of meditation that can easily be adapted., to personal needs and dispositions." Normally the religious who has seriously practiced this funda-mental method of prayer, as explained by Father Roothaan, will in due time pass on to the practice of affective prayer: but even he will find it helpful if not necessary to fall back occasionally upon the method d~scribed by the author. It is always a safe refuge in time of spiritual dryness and affliction. ¯ 274 July, 1946 ,~ BOOK REVIEWS Thi~ little book should b~ in the hands of every novice. Older ¯ religious will 6nd it u~eful reading "to spu'r them on to greater dill-gence in practical .and fruitful prayer, and zeal in the pursuit of per-fection." This reviewer .regrets exceedingly that this English version of Father Rootbaan's classic was not publ.ished ~n pamphlet form so as t6 give it a wider distribution.--A.C. ELLIS, S.J. THE MYSTICAL BODY OF, CHRIST. By Frledrlch Ji~rgensmeler, D.D. Transl,,fed by H. Gardner Curtis. Pp. :~09. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, J945. $3,00. The first section of this book discusses the biblical doctrine.and offers an excellent presentation of the importance and place of the Mystical Body in the divine plan of salvation. The second part develops the author's conviction that this ~ys~ery is the fun~amental~ principle of asceticism. /, The translation from ~bicb this photographic reproduction was ma'de is yery disappointing. After comparing several sections of the book, sections of ten to fifteen pages in length, with the original German, this reviewer was astounded at the many inaccuracies found in the translation. Furthermorel ~t times, phrases, clauses (in fact, sometimes' whole sentences) have been~ omitted. For example, we. read (p. 64) : "The Second Person of the. Godhead u, nited mankind to Himself in a hypostatic union." And, again (p. 81) : "Christ is distinguished from the Father and the Holy~ Ghost by the circum-stance .of His human, existence." .Needless to say, the original Ger-man does not have such ambiguous-(to say.the very least)~ doctrine. The last paragraphs of pages 65~.~66, and sections of pages 69 and 70 are very inaccurately translated. In general, religibus who have not studied theol0gy will find this book too ponderous. Sections, especially the treatment of the Mys: .tical. Body in the ascetical life, will be .helpful. But we cannot ,. recommend the English translation.--M. LA PIETE EUCH,~RISTIOUE By J. F.Ber~ube, s.s.s. Pp. 151. La Libr'-'qrle Eucharls÷ique, 514,.avenue Monf-Royal Est, M<;nfreal 34, 1945. (No '" prlce-given,) The source,, the means, ~nd the end of a11 our life of grace is 2esus Christ. The Holy Eticharist, ~because it c6ntains the whole Christ, must therefore be the source, the means, and.the end of .our spiritual 275 BOOK REVIEWS R~oieto [oF Religidus life. How the Eucharistic Christ, in the ~acrifice of the' Mi~ss, in Holy Communion, in the Real Presence, is the all and all of our tioliness, and fl0w we should respond to these profound truths-- .l~his is the book's important message to the faithful. It is followe.d by two eloquent~ inspiring pronoi~ncements of Pius XII

Issue 1.1 of the Review for Religious, 1942. This is the first issue of the publication. ; A.M.D.G.- -~ Review for ehg ous " " JANUARY 15, 1942 ,~>The Vow of P~overfy . ~The oE udta÷ O~Iotn er ¯ Hygienic M6rfificafio~ -- Exemptions from F~s+ing ~.~ ~Bellar~ine's S[gn of The:~Lmfurgy ih'Mo~ern ~r ¯ Religious Cg~secration : . By M~ffhew Germlng,-S.J. . By Adam C. Ellis, S.J. ~.By, William J. McGucken, S.J. ~' " By,'~. Augustine Ellard, S;J. '~ ~. By Gerald Kelly, ~S.J. '/ By C!pm~nt DeMufh, S.J. B~. ~rald Ellard, SfJ. .° VOLUME. NUMBER 1 Review ~:or Religious Volume I January--December 1942 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME I JANUARY 15, 1942 NUMBER CONTENTS GREETINGS FROM THE BISHOP OF LEAVENWORTH Tlie Most Reverend Paul C. Schulte, D.D. 4 PLANS AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS~The Editors .6 RELIGIOUS CONSECRATION--Matthew Germing, S.J . 8 JOHN NEPOMUCENE NEUMANN . 14 THE VOW OF POVERTY IN THE CODE OF CANON LAW Adam C. Ellis, S.J . 15 THE EDUCATION OF SISTERS--William J. McGucken, S.J .2.7. HYGIENIC MORTIFICATION---G. Augustine Ellard. S.J .3.2 EXEMPTIONS FROM FASTING--Gerald Kelly, S.J .4.2. SAINT ROBERT BELLARMINE'S SIGN OF THE CROSS Clement DeMuth, S.J . 47 LITURGY IN THE PATTERN OF MODERN PRAYING Gerald Ellard, S.J . 51 BOOK REVIEWS .THE MASS. By the Reverend Joseph A. Dunney . 63 A CATHOLIC DICTIONARY. Edited by Donald Attwater . 63 ALL THE DAY LONG. By Daniel Sargent . 64 "FEAR NOT, I~ITTLE FLOCK.'" By the Reverend George Zimpfer 65 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 1. Period of Recollection before Perpetual Vows . . " . 68 2. Shortening the Second Year of Novitiate . 68 3. Permission of Parents for Emergency Operation .69 4. Recital of Little Office by those absent from Community Recitation 69 5. Private Vows by Professed Religious . 70 6. Curtain between Priest and Penitent in Convent Confessional 70 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 71 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1942. Vol. I, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: ,January, March, May, July, September, and November, at The College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Application for second class entry pending. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.3.,~ G. Augustine Ellard, S.3., Gerald Kelly, $.J. Copyright; 1942, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted~for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Address all communications to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Mar/s, Kansas. Printed in U.S.A. Greet:ings-t: 'om !:he Bishop ot: Leavenw0rt:h WE ARE reminded of the striking analogy that exists between the Mystical Body of Christ and our own physical body. As the human body is made up of mil-lions of tiny ~ells, each cell in a sense a distinct entity having its .own function, so too, the Church is made up of millions of individual members, living individual lives; yet, even as ehch cell in our body draws life from the soul, ~so also is ~ach member of the Mystical Body of Christ quickened by the spiritual life of Sanctifying Grace. Carrying the analog~r further, we are reminded that, as the tiny individual cells are grouped so as to form individu.al organs and members of ~our body,, so too, in the Mystical .Body of Christ, individual men and women are o/~ten grouped into societies andorganizations, distinct, yet work-ing for the common good and drawing life and inspiration from th~ one spiritual head. As St. Paul reminds us,, "the eye cannot say to the hand: I need not thy help; nor again the head to the feet: I have no need of you,'; neither can the various groups within the Church be self-centered, but" they must work for the common good of the whole Church under the guidance of its head, Christ's Vicar on earth. The religious form what might be called the right arm of the Mystical Body of Christ. Ever since our Divine Savior gave the invitation to the young man in the Gospel, "if thou Wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast, and give to .the poor . and come, follow me," noble souls have been inspired to lea~e all things and seek perfection in the life of the religious. The very earliest centuries of the Church already found the deserts filled with the cells of the anchor-ites, from which soon was to be born the great monastic sys-tem as we have it today. Naturally, the unusual form of life led by the religious presents for them unusual problems. The Church in her canon law has taken cognizance of this and has devoted much space to defining the rights and duties of religious, both as indi'viduals and as institutions. However, the rami-fications of these rights and duties are so far reaching, and the field of direction towards spiritual perfection is so vast that the volumes upon volumes of commentaries that have been Written have not begun to exhaust the subje.cts. Besides, new .problems are ever arising. We have today many reviews of a general ecclesias-tical character dealing withthe multitudinou~s phases of the Church ~n general, yet we can readily see the need of a special review for the religious, not only to explain .the general laws governing their lives, but also to keep them abreast of the problems that theever-changing world is presenting to them. We feel confident therefoie that REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, which is making its bow. with this issue, will be .not .only very helpful to the religious but welcomed by the entire Church. We are happy to give it our personal approbation and fed honored that it is to be published in our Diocese. We are confident of its success under the editorial guidance of the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's. May it live long and effect much "pro Deo et Ecclesia!" PAUL C. SCHULTE, Bishop of Leaventvortl~. Plans :nd. ' . Acknowl dgem.ents N THIS initial number of REVIEW FoR RELIGIOus .wish tO say something Of our purpose,and ourplans, so that our readers may know rather definitely what to expect of us. ,, Our 'review is for all religious, clerical and non-clerical. However, we shall consider primarily the needs of brothe~ and nuns, bec~iuse clerics, particularly those in sacred orders, already have many excellent reviews at their disposal. This policy need not make the review less interesting to clerics, and it should increase its utility for those who may be entrusted with the spiritual guidance of other religious. In this latter connection, the review may also be of service to diocesan priests, as many of them are confessors and spiritual directors of religious. We have founded this magazine for a two-fold purpose: first, to aid °religi"ous in their personal sanctification; and secondly, to be of some service to them in carrying on their respective °apostolic works. The first purpose evidently call~ for articles of a purely ascetical nature; also for solid articles on the doctrines, legislation, and liturgy of the Church, as all true piety must ultimately conform to the Church's doctrine and practice. In line with the second purpose w~ll be a~'ticles which may have no direct bearing on ~he personal li:¢es of the religious themselves, such as background articles on various sections of the catechism, suggestions.for the care of the sick and the dying and for the ~arrying on of other ministries. Our general policy will be to offer articles of interest to all, but this policy cannot be inflexible. Some topics will be of use to superiorsand of slight value to subjects; some will be esl~ecially for brothers, others for nuns: some may concern only those engaged ina definite work such-as teaching, caring for the sick, and so forth. We think it well to adopt no general policy that would exclude such special-ized articles; otherwise our power for good would be great-ly diminished. We antidpate difficulties. The war situation evidently increases the difficulty .of .making definite plans. Some of our articles will be quite theological in content, yet these must be written in a non-technical, and understandable manner--an accomplishment that is not easy. On the part of our subscribers, some superiors have already suggested to us that a huge difficulty will be to find time for reading the review. We realize the force of. this practical objection: yet we hope that a fair number of individuals will find the time for private reading, and we suggest, that some articles frbm each issue will be suitable for community reading. The launching of. this project is the result of extensive dreaming and planning. Indeed, we should have begun many years ago, had not a certain unforeseen event delayed 9ur plans. Today, as we finally go to press, we are moved with an intense spirit of gratitude, to God for His assistance, and to all others who have helped us. Almost universally we have met with encouragement andcooperation. Our Bishop has been most kind in appro;cing our venture; our own and other re.ligious superiors were constantly helpful. Higher superiors, in general, responded very promptly and generously to our request for lists of houses to circularize: in many instances the superiors themselves sent subscrip-tions for entire congregations or provinces, thus saving us considerable labor and expense. May God bless them a11, and may He prosper this work begun for His greater glory! -~THE EDITORS. Religious Consecrat:ion Matthew .Germing, S.3. HOLY,SCRIPTURE says: "He that contemneth small things ~hall fall by little and little" (Ecclesiasticus 19:1). Spiritual writers commenting on these words rightly insist on the importance of little thing~ in the spiritual life. In the present consideration I wish to call attention, primarily, not to little things but to a big truth. I say, "primarily," because I believe that often enough interest in little things is best promoted by insistence on some large fundamental truth or fact on which the little ¯ things depend. Such a truth, once it has been thoroughly understood and assimilated, once it has. permeated the very marrow of our being and is thereafter kept vig.or.ously alive in mind an, d heart, will be a wonderfully energ,zmg force in the daily routine of life. It will extend its influence to the smallest actions of the day and thus compel us to take heed of even the little things. . Of this character is the consecration to God made by the members of every religious order and congregation. We are familiar in a general way with the meaning of consecration. Persons or things are consecrated when they are set apart and with the proper ceremonies dedicated to God or the Service of God. Thus the chalice used by the priest at Mass is consecrated; it is sacred and may not be used for any other purpose. To use it for other purposes would be sinful and sacrilegious. The same holds of a consecrated church. All religious are consecrated to Gdd by means of the three vows of religion. They are sacred in the eyes of God, far more sacred than consecrated church or ~halice. Whether they bel6ng to an active or a contemplative order, whether they are engaged in school work or hospital duties, whether in charge of orphans or caring for the aged and infirm, no matter what their function or task or position in the com-munity, all are consecrated to God. And they are so con-secrated by their three vows. There is a twofold aspect to these vows, the .negative and the positive. The negative aspect is "the privation involved in the vows, but privation is not the distinctive feature of religious poverty, chastity, and obedience. The mere lack of temporal goods does not make anyone accept.- able or sacred in God's sight. Poverty .as'such makes.many people in the world at large discontented and miserable, leading to complaints and rebellion against Providence. Nor does celibacy with its privations have of itself a sancti-fying effect. And as for obedience, a man may be a slave and be far from Christian and ev.angelical obedience. It is the motive that counts. It. is the love of Christ, the conse-cration to God which is the purpose and end of.all these sacrifices and privations, that makes them precious in the sight of heaven. And this is the positive aspect of the vows of religion. When we pronounced our vows for the first time we offered to God, to Christ our King and to His Sacred Heart all we had or possessed, and made ourselves entirely depen-dent on God and His representatives on earth. When St. Francis of Assisi bade farewell to his father and gave away the very clothes he wore, he said: "Now I can truly say, our-Father who art in heaven," Certainly Francis knew that God was his Father before that time, but he meant to say that only now was he absolutely without all earthly support whatever; he had only his Father in ¯ heaven to rely upon. And this gave him perfect joy and perfect cbnfidence. Blessed are we if our renunciation of the things of earth was nearly as complete as that of St. Francis and made in the same joyous~spirit. Then we can exclaim with him in ~ransportsof seraphic love, "My God and my all!" and pray to God in the word of another saint, "Give me only Thy love and Thy grace and I am rich enough and desire nothing more." But in pronouncing our vows we did much more than despoil ourselves of all temporal possessions out of love for Christ our Lord. We offered ourselves. There is recorded for us in Holy Scripture (I Paralipomenon 29: 16, 17) the touching prayer of King David when, surrounded by a vast multitude of his people, he offered to Almighty God the gold and silver and precious stones he had gathered from far and near for the temple which his son Solomon was to build. And David prayed: "O Lord our God, all this store ¯ that we have prepared to build thee a house for thy holy name is from thy hand, and all things are thine. I know, my God, that thou provest hearts and lovest simplicity, wherefore I also in the simplicity of my heart have 'joyfully offered all these things." We also on the day of our vows made our offerings to God in joyful spirit, presenting not gold or silver or precious stones but gifts, far more precious m the sight of heaven--the loyalty and devotion of a con-secrated soul. We knelt before the altar and in simplicity and sincerity of heart pronounced the vows of poverty, chas-tity, and obedience. Thus we made an oblat.ion to God of our entire being, our body with its senses and all their pleasures, our soul with its intellect and free will, promising to understand and do all things in accordance with the rules and constitutions of the religious life we then and there embraced in all its fulness. And we made these promises solemnly before the throne of God, in the pres-ence of Mary, Queen of heaven, of our Guardian Angel, our patron saints and the whole heavenly court as witnesses of our oblation. With holy David we acknowledged to God, "All things are thine, and we have given thee what we received of thy hand." Thus we vowed eternal loyalty to Christ and became consecrated and sacred in His eyes. This consecration was the most important event in our life, a spiritual fact of tremendous import. For it meant the abandonment of all selfish interests and complete devo-tion to the cause of Christ. Up to that time self had chiefly been the focus of our thoughts and desires; now our L6rd and Savior was to be enthroned in our mind and heart. Our. aims in life, our thinking and planning, .our capabilities of soul and body, our work and r.ecreation, our time itself, all were consecrated and must be directed to God. We are en-tirely His. We ought to make it our serious effort to understand and appreciate this fact. We should do what the Blessed Virgin did during her life on earth. And what did she do? St. Luke tells us in the second chapter of his Gospel. Toward the end of his account of the nativity Of our Lord, after narrating the apparition of the angel to the shepherds and the visit of the latter to Bethlehem, he adds: "But Mary kept in mind all these words, pondering them in her heart." We may be sure that what is told us so explicitly of her conduct in the present instance she did on many other occa.- sions in connection with the mysteries in the life of our divine Lord in which she had a large part. She treasured up in her memory the words and events, meditated on them, 10 prayed over them in the silence and quiet of her chamber, thus ever increasing in faith, hope, and the 10ve of God. Thus too she secured for herself the divine assistance, sup-port and guidance and encouragement in the daily happen-ings and sufferings of her life on earth. We ought to imitate this practice of our Blessed Mother in regard to so sacred an event in our life as our consecration to God. In the first place, we should recall it often and prayerfMly. Many religious have the commendable custom of making the renewal of'their consecration part of their morning prayer, using for the purpose a short formula; even purely mental renewal is .beneficial. We may do the same at intervals .between exercises during the day, even in the course of work which does not require dose and continu-ous attention. Our Blessed Lady gave us the example. Doubtless her mind and 1,ieart were frequently, if not habitually, occupied, with thoughts of sbme of the great mysteries in the life of her divine Son. This kept her in a state of recollection, transforming all her work into .prayer. Because of the difference of circumstances and the nature of their occupation, religious living in the modern world with its multiplic!ty of work are unable to practise recollection to. the same extent to which our Blessed Lady practised it in her home at Nazareth. Nevertheless, we must not lose sight of the fact that some degree of recoll~ction is essential for living the religious life as it should be lived. For all religious, whether members of an active or contemplative order, are consecrated to God. Consecration means total devotion to the cause of God, the cause of Christ and His Church. But they cannot effectively promote the cause of Christ unless they are devoted to prayer. And the prayer of consecrated souls must be something more than a casual and routine performance at stated times and places. Reli-gious must be penetrated and imbued with the true spirit of prayer, which comes only with thought and reflection and intimate converse between God and the soul. How can they achieve this spirit and continue it once they have achieved it if they do not strive with all the means at their disposal to attain to some degree of interior recollection? It is easier to keep up a high degree of recollection in somepositions or spheres of duty than in others. This holds of all religious communities whose members are engaged in the active life. But to whatever duty individual religious are assigned, all 11 must remember that their life of prayer, their spiritual life in generall will not take care of itself. The' saying is true that no one will be much more in prayer than he or she is out of prayer. In other words, they who outside of praye~ scatter their attention over a variety of interests, neither necessary nor useful for their work, will be unable to pray well beyond a few minutes when the hour comes for their devotional exercises. The inference is not that recollection is to interfere with attention to duty. Duty comes first. But there are moments and intervals when thoughts are free from assigned work and the employment of time is left to each one's discretion. These are favorable moments for the care and attentio.n which religious ought to have for their personal spiritual welfare. And if at such times they follow the promptings of mere curiosity, seeking the news of the day or other information not necessary or useful for them, thus spending the time in useless reading or. idle con-versation, they are losing precious opportunities' for sanc-tifying themselves. I said above that, in the first place, we ought frequently and prayerfully to recall the fact of our consecration to God. It is a thought pregnant with meaning for all of us and will be a great aid to recollection in the course of the day. Secondly, it will be decidedly profitable to take~ our consecration now and then for the subject of daily medita-tion. In such a meditation we may first consider, the ¯ meaning of our consecration. It means complete dedication ¯ "to God by means of the three vows, oblation of all that we have, all that we are, all that we are able to do--our thoughts, words, and actions; it means an act of the most perfect love of God. Then we may reflect on its obliga-tions. They are the observance of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; of the rules and constitutions of the order, and obedience to the commands of superiors. Finally, we may think of its adoantages. The most impor-tant ones are that it frees us from many s~rious dangers of sin, furnishes numerous aids in the practice of every kind of virtue, aligns us with that choice company of the army of Christ which would signalize itself by special service to its Leader, renders us sacred in the eyes of God, is a sign of God's predilection, has Christ's promise of the highest reward-- they "shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess life ever-lasting" (Matthew 19:29). Conclusion. We may Con- 12 clude-with sentiments of esteem and love of our vocation with its consecration to God; humility; gratitude to God. Another opportunity for strengthening ourselves in our consecration to God is the Monthly Recollection. It is a time of spiritual grace, when God reveals Himself more fully to our souls. We should do our part by making a brief survey of the month that has passed, considering in detail and with more than ordinary scrutiny whether we are living up to ~:he requirements of our state. It is not a question of merely seeing whether we have avoided deliber-ate sin. This too merits our attention, as a matter of course. We must look to our religious ideals, the perfection of our daily actions, the motives that animate us from early .morning till late at night. Are we seeking God in all things in all our doings? Are ,Jesus Christ and His interests habitually in our thoughts, or is self frequently uppermost in our minds, controlling and directing our purposes and policies? Our Blessed Lord said: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind, and with thy whold strength" (Mark 12:30). This is the perfection we are bound to strive after in its literal sense. It is the epitome, the compendium of all that is contained in our consecration to God. We are consecrated to God, sacred in His eyes. It would be quite wrong and detrimental to our spiritual life if, by reason of this, we were to fall into the error of conceiving and fostering self-complacency, as though we were the favorite~ of Almighty God and better than other people. If God has manifested His predilection towards us by bestowing the efficacious grace of a religious vocation, He has by that very fact also imposed on us graver obligations and responsibilities. In all humility we should thank God for what He has done for us and for all other men, each of us saying with the patriarch ,Jacob, "I am not worthy of the least of all thy mercies and of thy truth which thou hast f.ulfilled to thy servant" (Genesis 32:10). It is very important for .us to maintain~ an attitude of thankfulness and humility. Let us remember our Lord's words to His Apostles: "You have not chosen me, .but I have chosen you". (,John 15:16). He has chosen us out of the world and transferred us into a kingdom of light and grace that, like the Apostles; we might "bring forth fruit." It-remains for us to distinguish ourselves in His service by an ever increasing love and generosity, a more steadfast loyalty to the consecration which we made of ourselves when we pronounced our vows. In this way a big fundamental spiritual truth, kept fresh in mind and heart by daily prayer and recollection, will exercise oa salutary influence On the little things of every day life. It will have the effect Of sweepingaside in a moment the petty and narrow views arising from selfish-ness, just as the bright rising sun scatters the mist on a mid-summer day.' JOHN NEPOMUCENE NEUMANN Just before the first issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS went to press, we received a letter from the Reverend Albert H. Waible, C.SS.R., Vice-Postulator of the Cause for Beatification of the Venerable John Neumann, C.SS.R. John Nepomucene Neumann was the first pro-fessed Redemptorist in the United States and the fourth Bishop of Philadelphia. On December 11, 1921, Pope Benedict XV approved the decree declaring that John Neumann had practised heroic virtue, and he was given the title of Venerable. The Holy Father's words on that occasion are singularly appropriate for readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS : "We deem it proper to say that all our children should profit by the. Decree of today by reason of the peculiar character of the heroic virtues of Ven. Neumann. Perhaps the very simplicity of these virtues has been misunderstood by those Who thought there was no heroic degree in the virtues of the Servant of God. because in their eyes the good works and holy deeds performed by Neumann are. the holy .and good deeds which every good religious, every zealous missionary, every good bishop should perform. ¯ We need not repeat that works even the most simple, performed with constant perfection in the midst of i~aevitable difficulties, spell heroism in any servant of God. Just because of the simplicity of his works, We find in them a strong argu-ment for saying to the faithful of whatever age, sex, or condition: You are all bound to imitate the Ven. Neumann.,. If, in spite of this, there should be some who still seem surprised and cannot pic-ture him to themselves as a hero apart from grand undertakings, We hasten to say that wonderful results can spring from simple deeds, . provided these are performed as perfectly as possible and with unre-mitting constancy." Those interested in Bishop Neumann's cause can procure a small pamphlet biography from the Mission Church Press, 1545 Tremont St., Boston, Mass. 5 cents a copy; $3.50 per 100. 14 The Vow ot: Poverl:y in !:he Code ot: Canon Law Adam C. Ellis, S.,L IIF't LESSED are the poor in spirit, .for theirs is the king-dom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3). This poverty of spirit for which the Gospel promises the kingdom of heaven consists essentially in keeping one's heart free from attachment to temporal goods. It is the first means, though not the most important, which man must make use of to win heaven.or to attain to perfection. The reason for this is that poverty of spirit is the cure for that evil which is the root of all others according to the Apostle: "For covet-ousness is the root of all evil" (I Timothy 6:10). That is why our Lord not only began his preaching with it, but also gave us the example in His own person of a life of pov-erty from the crib in the stable of Bethlehem to the cross on Calvary. And when He wished to teach men the secret and the way ot~ perfection, he tells us again, in the instance of the rich young man, that. poverty is the starting point. "If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast. and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me" (Matthew 19:21). The first persons who took this lesson to heart and put it into practice were the Apostles, who in turn imparted it to the primitive church, and thus impressed upon religious communities the form of perfect poverty. In canon 488 of the Code ot: Canon Law, the Church tells us that the three vows ot~ religion, obedience, chastity, and poverty, are means by ~vhich religious strive at~ter per-t: ecfion; Hence in all orders and congregations approved by the Church these three essential vows must be taken, either explicitly, as in modern congregations, or as least implicitly, as in the older orders. In its essentials the vow 6f poverty is the same: for all religious, but the constitutions of different orders and congregations add details to these fundamental notions according to the particular spirit ot~ each institute. Evangelical poverty as set forth in the constitutions of a religious institute, may be considered from different points of view. It-is not our intention to give an ascetical ¯ or a moral.interpretation of the vow of poverty; we leave .15 that to others, who, we trust, will favor us later on with articles in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS dealing with these aspects. It is our purpose now to study the present laws of the Ghurch regarding the personal poverty of religious, as promulgated in the Code of Canon Law, since these laws are applicable to all religious, and are usually incorporated into the constitutions o~ all religious institutes. The Nature of the Vow of Pooert~/. The vow of pov-erty is a promise made to God by whicla the religious deprives himself of the right to place any act of proprietor-sbip over any material thing having a money value, with-out the lawful permission of his superior, The proper and distinctive character of proprietorship or ownership of property is the power to dispose of it freely and independently/: that is, to use it, to give it away, to sell it, to destroy it, at will, as an absolute master over it. without any obligation of having recourse to the will of another, hence independently of the will or permission of another. The essence of the simple vow of poverty consists, therefore, in the privation of this right to dispose freely and independently of temporal goods, of whatsoever kind they may be. The subject-matter of the vow is the possession and use of temporal things, independently of the will of superiors. Whatever the degree of poverty prescribed by the con-stitutions of any particular institute may be, only such things as come under the heading of temporal goods or property constitute the subject-matter of poverty. Other things, such as health, the use of one's bodily members, one's mental and spiritual faculties, talents, supernatural gifts, are not the subject-matter of the vow of poverty. Temporal goods or property, therefore, include any object of money value that a person can acquire and possess or hold, anything that can be owned. Personal goods or property are such things as can be kept on or near one's per-son, usually all movable goods. Real property or real estate consists in lands and whatever is attached to the land, houses and buildings of any kind. The general term, prop-. erty or temporal goods, therefore, comprises every material thing which has a money value, such as: money, real estate, stocks, bonds, mortgages, jewelry, and all movable and per-sonal objects having a money value. By his vow of poverty 16 the religious refiounces his right to place any act of owner- Ship over such goods without the permission of his supe-rior. The vow of poverty, therefore, forbids the religious: 1) every independent act of appropriation, e.g. to acquire, keep, use, receive, borrow from another; 2) every act of disposal of property: to give away, to sell, to lend, or lease to another, to allow goods to deteriorate or perish. All these acts, placed without the permission of the superior or of the constitutions, are contrary to the vow of poverty. The various degrees of sinfulness of these acts is a moral question and outside the limits of this article. Let us now take up the general legislation of the Church regarding the vow of poverty, keeping in mind that these laws obligate all religious, and that any contrary leg-islation in the constitutions has been revoked by the Code of Canon Law, unless a special apostolic privilege has been obtained. I. A religious who has tatien a simple vow of poverty, whether temporar!t or perpetual, retains the ownership of his property, as well as the capacity to acquire, more, unless the constitutions provide otherwise (cf. canon 580, § 1). The distinction between a simple and a solemn vow ~s the result of church legislation. ~ A religious who takes a solemn vow of poverty deprives himself not only of every right to place act~ proprietorship, as explained above, but he freely gives up even the right to own temporal goods. Such a religious must give away all that he. possesses, within sixty days preceding his solemn profession. After taking the solemn vow, he can no longer acquire temporal goods for himself, since by his vow he has renounced his very right to own, hence whatever may come to him by way of inheri-tance or gift, he acquires for his institute (cf. canons 581 and 582). The religious who takes a simple vow of poverty, on the contrary, retains his right to own, that is to possess property; hence he is not deprived of his property by the simple vow, but continues to be the owner of all that he possessed at the time of his religious profession. Further-more, he retains the capacity to acquire more property or temporal goods even after he has taken the simple vow of poverty. Such is the provision of. the general law of the Church today for all religious. The Church allows the constitutions to limit this right, but since there are very few constitutions ;which do so,,we.shall omit any comment On this detail, and we shall suppose hereafter that no such limitation has been placed. iI. The simple vow of poverty makes a" contrary a~t illticit, but not invalid, unless the contrarg, has been expressly decreed (cf. canon 579). The effects of the vow of poverty are determined by the law of the Church. That law says that the simple vow of poverty makes a.contrary act illicit, which means that if a religious with a simple vow of poverty disposes of or in any way exercises rights over his property without permis-sion, he-.commits a sin,. venial or grave acc.ording, to the gravity of the illicit transaction. However, the act which he places, for example, the gift or s~ile of temporal goods, is valid, that is, it is recognized as legal by canon law, unless the contrary is expresslydecreed. Such a prohibition may be contained in the general law of the Church," as 'happens in the case of a religious who takes a simple vow of poverty in an order in which he is to take solemn vows later on. Canon 581 § 1. forbids .him under pain of invalidity to give away his property, except within sixty days preceding his solemn profession. If such a religious gives away any property, the act is null and void, ~which means that the person to whom he,gave it must return it, and may not keep it. Thus if Sister Generosa, a member of a religious congregation, gave all her property to her needy family off the day 9n which she took her first vows, her parents may keep it, since the act is a valid act. Sister Generosa, how-ever, acted illicitly, that is, she violated her vow of povert.y :by transgressing the law of the church, unless she. did so m good faith, being ignorant of the law. Off'the other hand, if Brother John, a member of the Carmelite order, gave away all his property on the day he took his first simple vows, the person to whom he gave it would be obliged to give it back to him, because his act was not only illicit but also invalid. He can give away his property validly only within sixty days of his solemn profession. III.' If during his novitiate, a novice in any way what-ever renounces his property, or.encumbers it, such a renun-ciation or encumbrance is not only illicit, but also null and void (cf. canon 568). This legislation comes down to us from the Council of Trent. It applies to all novices, whether in a pontifical or 18 in a diocesan institute, and to all their temporal goods, whether movable or immovable, real or personal. The pur-poseof the legislation is to safeguard the freedom of action of both the novice and of the institute regarding the profes-sion to be made at the end of the novitiate. The novice may wish to leave, the institute may be unwilling to admit him to profession. Hence the wisdom of the legislation. To renounce one's property means to give up the right to it by freely and lawfully transferring it to another with-out recompense. A novice may, therefore, sell his.property and invest the proceeds, or. put the money in a bank for the time being. He may, likewise, freely~dispose of the income of his property during the novitiate, or add it .to his capital. He must pay his.debts, of course, and may pay for his board and clothing during the'novitiate provided this is required by the constitutions, or agreed upon before entrance into the postulancy, or novitiate in conformity with canon 5 70, §1. To er~carnber one's property means to put a burden or obligation upon it. Hence a novice may not promise to give away a certain part of 'his property or all of it on condition that he perseveres in the religious state and is admitted to profession. He may not mortgage his property.,-as that would be placing an encumbrance .upon it. While the law of the Church does not forbid such renunciation and encumbrance during the postulancy, the same reasons make such an act inadvisable. If such a renun-ciation is made for grave reason during the postulancy, it should be made conditionally, so that the postulant may be able to regain his property in case he does not persevere in religion, and must return to the world. Even before the Code went into effect i~ was a common opinion of canonists that novices could give alms to the poor, to pious causes, and even to their own institute, pro-vided that small amounts were given on rare occasions, The same is permitted under the Code. Thus a novice would be allowed to have a number of Masses said for the repose of. the soul of his father or mother who dies during his novitiate. Supposing that our novice persevere~, and that his institute is ready to admit him to his first profession~, the .law. of the Church requires him to place certain acts in rdgard to his property before he takes his first ~vows. 19 IV. Before the profession of simple vows, whether temporory or perpetual., the novice must cede, for the entire period during Which he wilt be bound bg simple vows, the administration of bis~ 15ropertg to whomsoever he wishes, and dispose freelg of its use and usufruct, unless the consti-tutions determine otberu;ise (cf. canon 569, § 1). We have seen above that the simple vow of poverty does not deprive the novice who takes it of the ownership of his property or of the right to acquire more property after he. has taken the simple vow of poverty. On the other hand, one of the purposes of the vow is to free the religious from the worries and distractions connected with the care and management of temporal goods. Hence the Church wisely decrees that the novice must turn over to another the administration of his property if he has any. He may choose any person he wishes to act as his administrator: his parents, a brother or sister, a friend, a lawyer, a trust com-pany. He may also ask his institute or province or house to assume this task if superiorslare willing tO accept it. Let us u.nderstand what an administrator is. All of us have heard on occasion, after the death of a person, that the deceased had appointed an administrator of his estate in his will, or if he died intestate, the court appointed somebody to fill this office until the estate could besettled. The per-son appointed cares for the estate or collection of temporal goods owned by the deceased, pay bills, collects rents, as well as interest on money deposited in banks or due on stocks and bonds, keeps buildings in repair, pays taxes and the like. In a word, an administrator performs all those ordinary acts which the deceased person performed during his lifetime for the preservation and increase of his prop-erty. Once the novice has appointed his administrator, he must leave to him all these acts of ordinary administration of his property. He may be consulted as regards extra-ordinary acts of administration, such as the sale of his property, and the investment of the money derived from such a sale, and be has the right to receive an annual report of the condition of his property. The administrator is entitled to some recompense in proportion to his labor. Once the administrator has been freely appointed, the religious may not replace him by another without the per-mission of his superior general, unless the constitutions of his institute allow him to do so of his own accord (cf.canon 20 580, § 3). It4s evident that the novice who has no prop-erty at the-time of his first profession .need not appoint an administrator. The disposition or: his income: The novice must dispose freely of the use and usufruct of his pr.operty, if he has any. If his property consists of real estate, a farm, a house and lot, etc. he may ~rant the use of such property to anybody he wishes. If his property is productive, real estate which brings in rents, or stocks and bonds producing income or interest, such income is called the fruits of his property, or .the usufruct. It is evident that were the religious to retain the free disposal¯ of such income in his own hands, it would become a source of distraction and worry to him. Hence the Code prescribes that, before he takes his first vows, he must determine, once for all, the person or persons who are to be given the use of or the income of his property for the duration of his vows. He may choose whomsoever he wishes as the beneficiary of bis income: his parents, a brother or sister, some charitable work, his own institute. It would be well for the novice, before making his decision, to think seriously on those words of our Lord: "give to the poor." His parents may be in need, or he may have a brother or sister struggling to raise a family or to get an education; then there are so many forms of Christian char-ity in need of funds to carry on their work: hospitals, or-phanages, homes for the poor, etc; lastly the novzce should also consider the needs of his own institute before coming to a decision. But the final decision rests with him, unless the constitutions of his institute determine otherwise. There are some constitutions approved before the promultzation of the Code which deprive the novice of the right to dispose of the use and usufruct of his property, or restrict that right or define it, e.g. by limiting such disposal in favor of a char-itable work, or by designating or excluding the institute as the beneficiary. Whatever the dispositions of such consti-tutions may be, they must be observed (Code Commission, Oct. 16, 1919). Once the novice has made this disposition of the use or income of his property, he may not change it in favor of someone else without the permission of his superior gen-eral, unless the constitutions' allow him to do so of his own accord (canon 580, § 3). It will-be Well to call attention here to a restriction which this same canon places on 'th~ 2I right to chahge the beneficiary with the permission ~of the superior general.~ Such modification or change mustnot be made, at least for a notable part of the income, in favor of the institute. Permission of the Holy See is necessary to make such a change in favor of the institute (Code Com-mission, May 15, 1936), if there is question of a notable part, say one-fourth, or certainly one-third Of the same. This point should be made clear to the novice before he chooses the person who is to have the use or the income of his property. While he is free before taking his first vows to appoint hisown institute (orhis province or house) as the beneficiary of his income, ifas a matter of fact, he does not do so, but appoints some other person, he may not later " cbang.e .this disposition in favor of.his ihstitute without the permission of the Holy See, if there is question of one third or more of the entire income. If, later on, after having taken his vows, the religious should leave his institute and the religious life, these appointments of an administrator and of the beneficiary of his income cease to have a.ny effect, and he regains comple.te control of his property. It may happen that a novice has no property at the time be takes his first vows. Later on, after takin~ his vows, he acquires pkoperty by inheritance or gift. What is to be don~? " " V. :In case the novice, because he possessed no property, omitted to make the cession and disposition mentioned above, but later on acquires p. ropertq, or i~:, after making the cession and disposition ~n question, be becomes the possessor of more property under whatever title, be must then' make the cession and disposition for the ~irst time, or repeat it, iri regard to the newI~/ acquired property/, his simple vow o~: povern.] notwit.bstanding (cf. canon 569, §2). In this case the religious whopossessed no property at the time of his first profession, but. later on acquires prop-erty, needs no permission to appoint an administrator and to determine who is to have the use of this newly acquired property, or the income thereof. The law obliges him to do .so. Similarly, if, after having appointed an adminis-trator and determined a beneficiary of the income of his property, a religious, after taking his vows, acquires new property by inheritance, gift, and so forth, he must then 22 repeat the same acts in regard to h!,s. newly acquired prop-erty. Of course he may simply say: I wish the same admin-istrator, already appointed, to take care of it, and I wish the same person or persons, already recei~,ing the income of my property, to receive the income of this new property like-wise." He may, howe.ver, appoint a different person administrator, and a different person the beneficiary of the income of this newly acquired property, if he wishes to do so, It may be noted in 1Sassing that an increase in value of property already possessed does not constitute a new acquirement of property .within the meaning of the law. Hence if the real estate, or the stocks and bonds which a religious owns, increase in value because of a land boom, or because of a rise in the stock market, such a religious may not consider that increase in value as a new acquirement of property. Nothing is to be done in such a case. VI. In ever{] religious congregation the novice, before taking his temporarg vouJs, must freetg make a will or tes-tament regarding all the propertg he actuatl~l possesses, or mag subsequentl~l possess (cf. canon 569, § .3). A will is a legal declaration of a man's intentions as to the disposition of his property that he wills to be carried out afterhis death. Strictly speaking, a testament differs from a will in that it bequeaths personal property only; but the terms are used interchangeably. By his will, there-fore, the novice does not give away his property here and now. ° He merely indicates the person Or persons whom he wishes to come into possession of it after his death. As long as he lives he retains the ownership of all his prop-erty. The beneficiary of his will becomes possessor of the property of the. religious only after the latter dies. Every novice in a religious congregation must make a will before taking his first, temporary vows, whether he actually owns any property or not, the reason being that the will includes everything that may come to the religious dur!ng his life-time, and of which he dies possessed. Novices about to take their first, temporary vows in an order are not obliged to make a will, since they must give away whatever they possess before they take their solemn vows. They are not forbidden, howe~er, to make a will valid for the period of their profession of simple vows, ~hould their wish to do so. ¯ Members of a religious congregation who took their 23 first vows before the Code went into effect (May 19, 1918), are not obliged to make a will, even though they acquired more property after that date, or will akquire such property in the future. But they ar~ not forbidden to make a will, should they wish to do so, and generally speaking, it is advisable for them to make a will.But all religious in every congregation who took their first, temporary vows after May 19, 1918 are obliged to make a will as soon as possible, if they have not done so already. The law requires this, even though it had been omitted in good faith. Even though the novice who is about to take his first vows cannot make a will valid in civil law because of a lack of the required age, he is still bound by canon law to make his will, and later on, when he becomes of legal age, he must tlake the steps necessary to make his will'valid in divil law as well. The Code says that the novice must freel~t make a will. This does not mean that he is free to make a will. or not, but that he who makes the will prescribed by canon law is free to choose the beneficiary of his will, that is he freely chooses the person or persons he wishes to take possession of any property he may own at the time of his death. May a religious ever change his will after he has freely made it? VII. No religious may change his will once made in "conformity with the requirements of canon law as explained above without the permission of the Hotel See, or. in case of urgencq, abd time does not permit of recourse to the Holg See, without the permission o3 his superior gen-eral, or of his local superior if the former cannot be' reached (cf. canon 583, 2°). A will is not considered altered or changed if certain prescriptions are merely made clearer, or if a will'which is invalid in civil law is changed merely to conform with the requirements of that law, so long as in both cases the bene-ficiary remains the same. Should the person named as bene-ficiary in the will of a religious die, the will becomes ineffec-tive and has no value. Hence no permission is needed to make a new will, since by so doing the religious is simply fialfilling the law of the Church which requires him to make a will. The will he had made is no longer valid, hence he is without a will, and must make another in order to fulfill the law, 24 As long as the religious with simple vows continues, to live in a religious congregation he may ~not give away his property. VIII. It is forbidden to the professed of simple" uows in a congregation to abdicate gratuitously the dominion ouer their property b~/ a voluntary deed of conveyance (cf. canon 583, 1°). To abdicate gratuitously means to give away one's property without receiving any monetary recompense in return. The motive for giving away one's property may be a spirit of gratitude, or friendship, or a charitable desire to help others in need, or to further 'the cause of some pious work. No matter what the motive may be, the Church forbids all religious with simple vows in a congregation to give away their property as long as they remain in religion. Due to the uncertain times in which we live, it can and does happen that religious freely leave or are obliged to leave their institute, or the institute itself may be dispersed by reason of persecution which is 'always present in the Church in some part of the world. Should any one of these con-tingencies arise, the religious will not be obliged to return to the world penniless, thus bringing Shame on religion, or becomin~ a burden to others, but he will be able to support himself with the aid of the temporal goods he brought with him when he entered religion, or which he received by. way of inheritance or gift during his stay in the religious life. Since the law says a religious is forbidden to give away his property, but does not say that such an act is invalid as it does in the case of a novice and of the religious with simple vows in an order in which he is to take solemn vows later on, it follows-that if a religious in a congregation has actually freely given away his property contrary to the pre-scription of the law, the act is a valid act, and.the religious cannot reclaim his prbperty. If he did so in good faith, in ignorance of the law, he will be free from all moral guilt in the matter. But all religious in congregations, whether papal or diocesan, should understand clearly that their supe-riors cannot give them permission to dispose of thei~ patri-money, as the sum total of their temporal goods is. called, during th~i~ lifetime in religion. The permission of the Holy See would have to be obtained before this couId be done licitly. A final question arises with regard to the property of O~ 25 religious with simple vows. We have seen that such a re!igidus retains his ownership over the property, he-pos-sessed at the time of his entrance into religion, as well as the capacity to acquire more property, even after he has taken his simple vow of pover~;y. How are we to decide what a religious may and must keep and add to his patrimony, what be must give to his institute of the temporal things which come to him during his life in religion? IX. Whatever a religious acquires b~j l~is own industrg, or in respect to his institute, he acquires for his institute (cf. canon 580, § 2). A religious with simple vows acquires for himself, that~ is, as part of his patrimony or collection of his temporal possessions, whatever he receives by way of inheritance, legacy or personal gift. But whatever comes to him by reason of his own industry goes to his institute. To acquire b.u one's own industrtl means by one's mental and physical efforts, such as writing a book, or making a work of art, a painting or fancy needle work, or by reason of one's profes-sion, recompense received for teaching, nursing and the like. Since the religious has become a member of thereligious family by his profession of vows, and is suppotted, fed, clothed and educated by the institute, which supplies all his reasonable wants, it is but meet and just that the fruits of his:labors should go to the institute. To acquire in respect to the institute refers to what is given to a religious not as an individual person, to John Jones; or to Mary Blank, but to the religious as a religious, to Brother Plus, or to Sister Martha, for the community to which he or she belongs, in order to help the Charitable or educational work in which the community is engaged, or because of the confidence and respect which the institute as a whole inspires in the donor because of its religious activ-ity. In a word a religious acquires in repect to his insti-tute whatever is g.iven to him because be is a religious. In cases of doubt, when it is not certain that the gift was per-sonal to the religious, the presumption will be that it was made in favor of the institute. This presumption applies especially to superiors. Small gifts given on special occa-sions such as feast days or at Christmas time to a teacher by his pupils, and so forth, are presumed to be given to the religious because he is a religious, not for personal reasons. The constitutions usually regulate such gifts. 26 The I::ducafion ot: Sis :ers William 3. McGucken, S.,J. THIS IS an altogether extraordinary book that should be of particular interest to the readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIDU$. It is not a dull book, despite the fact that it is in the genre of the much despised doctoral dissertations in Education (with a capital E). Sister Bertrande has a reporter's sense of what constitutes news, a reporter's abil-ity to penetrate beyond the barriers and get a "story" from. her unwilling victim. Very briefly, the book is the narra-tive of what has been done in America for the religious, social, cultural, and professional education of sisters, what is being done, and, most significant of all, what should be done. With the first two parts of the book no one can disagree; the facts are presented with such ingenious clarity that he who runs may read.In the third part one may question some of the proposals on the ground that they are too detailed, too rigidly regimented after the immemorial fashion of nuns, but with the main features of her proposal to give a truly sound and truly Catholic education (this time without the capital E) to American nuns there can be no disagreement. The true story of Catholic education in the United States, especially the education .of women, has yet to be written: its tale of heroisms, sacrifices, blunderings, and fatal failures have been chronicled in part. here and there. notably in Mother Callan's excellent study, The Society! of the Sacred Heart in North America, but nowhere can one find a complete picture of the whole scene. Particularly is this the case with American Catholic ~ducational policy as it affects the religious qua religious. The old saying "Cucullus non.facit monachum" is all too dreadfully true, but unfortunately many religious superiors believed the wimple made the nun. Every religious over fifty years of age knows that there was a time in the history of the sister-hoods in America when a young woman, often not even a high school graduate, was passed through a rapid postu- 1 THE EDUCATION OF SISTERS. A. plan for Integrating the Religious~ Social, Cul-tural, an'd Professional Training of Sisters. By Sister Bertrande Meyers. New York: Sh~ed add Ward, 194i. Pp. xxxiii + 255. $3.75. 27 l~ncy, given a Veil, and sent out to teach. Granted that mother superiors were forced by circumstances, the impor-tunings of bishops and parish priests, granted that the nuns thus sent off the assembly line with less than a year's training made up for their lack of acquaintance with the vchole idea and ideals of ~eligious life by their practices of piety, their simple devotion, their childlike faith, yet it still remains an inscrutable mystery of divine providence that there were not more individual catastrophes as a result of this short-sighted policy. The first .World War came along; there was a multi-plication of school~; especially of sisters' high schools and colleges: there was also a tightening of the reins by the accrediting agencies. .Moreover, Rome. was insistent on religious communities adhering to their constitutions. At last, it is true, the nuns were obliged to, spend, at least a canonical yeay in the novitiate, but in order to satisfy the professional requirements necessary to teach, many .of the sisterhoods had to resort to miserable subterfuges in order° to securethese "credits." A tragic.story, truly, this filching from the r~eligious training 9f the novice to satisfy ttie craze for credits. Nor is it over even now. Sister Bertrande says (of the year 1940) : "Isolated instances were even found where credit was given [dur!ng the Canonical Year] in Church History or World History for reading Lives of the Saints, in Home Economics for the daily.domestid work, and in Philosophy Of Education for the daily instructions of the' Mistress of Novices. iiO,,ne of ~he Mistresses of N0yices co,mplai~is bitterly: In the first place, there is a sii nion~h s postulate. But. lJefore the postulant can be.inducted into religious life She :is made conscious of credits to be earned towards her teaching credentials;.so her day is full of classes. That is not so bad, since this is just the Posti~late, but it would be better if she ~studied something like Logic--that would teach her how to think. But no. Methods of teaching, all professional subje.cts come togeth~er to make the girl more conscious of the need to become a good teacher rather than a true religious. " 'Then--the Canonical YEar. It is so taken, up with studies in the field of education that when a novice is asked how she is coming along in recollection, she says: "Recollec- 28 tion? Why I can think of nothing but getting my school work"done--there is no time even for class preparation." Spiritual exercises ar~ curtailed; classwork takes precedenc~ over interviews with the. Mistress of Novices--often I have to scheme little ways of finding an opportunity to give direction to a novice-who stands in need. " 'Two and one-half hours a day are allowed for Novi-tiate routine such as. instructions, spiritual reading, confes-sions, etc. If anything must be put aside it must be any-thing but classwork. Thus it happens that a thin, super-ficial religious decorum takes the place of depth and breadth in the spiritual life. And no real, permanent culture comes from this cramming of normal work. " 'The second, year the novices are sent out to teach. They go out to teach with good will, but with no concept of the interior life. There was a time when the second year was strictly a part of the Novitiate; .but it began With "bor-rowing" two or three novices for sorely pressed missions, and the Borrowed novices, were .never returned. Then, a few more were borrowed. Now, there is no pretence at leaving them in the Novitiate for a second year. They are robbed of their Canonical Year with a full program 0f studies; the second year they leave for the local schools, and as a~result we have teachers with no real Understanding of their Community or of' the obligations of religious life'." It should be noted that this condition has held ever since the State Departments have insisted on professional requirements for teachers; it still holds today, let us hope only in "isolated instances." It can be left to the reader's imagination what the situation was in the period immedi-ately after World War I when every major superior was confronted with the choice of closing a certain number~of schools or getting credits for her sisters somehow, some-where. The result: a conflict, was set up in the mind of the young religious; she was told that her spiritual develop-ment comes first, and yet much was done to interfere with her allowing her religious life to take first place. A very interesting part of the book is Sister Bertrande's discussion of the effect of secular universities on religious women. The majority of provincials,~mistresses of novices, deans of nuns' colleges feel that it does~harm, that there is a weakening of the Catholic: sense, but some are sure that they are forced to attend for certain courses in the graduate field. 29 It is not explicitly stated that the real reason for the danger tO sisters at secular graduate schools is the haphazard quality of the undergraduate preparation received by many of them: they have not a Catholic view of life, even though they may be very devout religious. "One point was uniformly expressed.m that the courtesy and consideration which sisters met in dealing with the officials and the faculties in secular universities outdis-tanced that which was experienced in Catholic centers." One just wonders if it is not possible that the more poorly prepared for graduate work attend Catholic universities, the brilliant students, the ones superiors are absolutely sure of, frequent the non-Catholic institution. Moreover, Catholic institutions have possibly far more experience of those "isolated instances" where nuns present transcripts of worthless credits than the officials of the secular universi-ties. It is g.ratifying to see from Sister Bertrande's tables that there is a tremendous increase in the attendance of sis-ters at Catholic institutions and a corresponding decrease in attendance at secular universities. One startling fact in the picture presented of the con-temporary education of Catholic sisters is this: relatively t~ew ot~ our nuns receive a thorough grounding in liberal arts. Even where the situation in the Canonical Year has been bettered, 'it is very rare indeed for a sister to be set aside to complete her course for the Bachelor of Arts degree. ~here. there is a second year of novitiate, studies are crowded, into this year--too many, alas, professional studies; that year ended, the novicepronounces her vows and is immediately sent on a mission. Carrying a full teach-ing schedule, she attempts to garner credits after school hours, on Saturday mornings, and in summer sessions. After she has attained the mystica! number of 120, she may be sent to graduate school, utterly unprepared for graduate work by this hurried amassing of credits which she has had no time to digest. It is not thus that bachelors of ar~s are made. One can say that many, not all, bachelors of arts in American colleges are in no better fix. This may be true, but the fact remains that sisters because of their profession as teachers should be thoroughly grounded in systematic fashion in the liberal arts. What this crowding of the day of the young religious does to her spiritual life can be left to the imagination. If this or a similar condition were bad a 30 generation ago, when life was .simpler, when our' novices came from good Catholic families with a tradition of reli-gious practice,, what must it not be today when we find the product even of our convent schools woefully lacking in Catholic principles and practices because of poor home training and the prevalent paganism of the American scen~. Sister Bertrande's plan for the education of postulants, with its emphasis on instruction in Catholic faith and prac-tice, so necessary at all times but especially in these times, its ignoring of all secular subjects except. Speech and Music, is espe.cially commended to all major superiors. So too her plan for the Canonical Year--one might wish that this part~ were continued everywhere for two years--with its rigid exclusion of everything but Religion and Gregorian Music will help to make our sisters strong religious women. Some Will quarrel with the curriculum Sister Bertrande out-lines for the two-year curriculum for the Community Jun-ior College. Too many of the courses, some would think, bear the mark of superficiality so characteristic of survey courses. However, that is a minor detail. The one point is brought Out that the postulancy and novitiate are devoted to God and the development of the spiritual life in the indi-vidual; two yeais of junior college are to be added to com-plete the foundation of their liberal arts program, with the leisure necessary for that. purpose. After that Sister Bert-rande recommends that the new sister be sent to a Catholic college for the completion of the work that is needed for the degree. The author does not say that they should be sent immediately. Perhaps it is too far away from the prac-ticalities of American convent life for her to recommend that. All in all this is a book that should be read and digested by everyone who has anything to do with the education of sisters,--major superiors, Catholic college professors and administrators, at least that they may acquire the saooir i:aire~ of their non-Catholic confr~res,.last but not least, pastors, that they may understand the difficulties under which the sisters in their parish schools are laboring. It is a book that had to be written: the candid objective presen-tation of facts can do no harm; it may prove to be of ines-timable benefit to future generations of sisters, if .present superiors heed the pointed lesson that is written here. 31 i~lygienic Morfit:ic~fion G. Augustine Ellard, S.J. ~'~NE of the most prominent ascetical writers of the ~ J twentieth century and at the same time an authority ~ on the history of the spiritual life in the Church, namely, Msgr. Saudreau, states that the principal defect in the cultivation of the interior life in our days is a lack of bodily mortification (1). Moreover, the want of mortifi-cation is assigned by Father De Guibert, of Rome, a leader among contemporary ascetical and mystical theologians, as the reason why so few pass beyond mediocrity in the spir-itual life (2). Perhaps one of the main reasons or pretexts why most devout people do not practice more external mortification is the fear that it would injure their health, or at least lessen their strength and capacity for work. One might answer that an abundance of mortification, and that too of a supe-rior form, may be found precisely in learning and living up to the principles of hygiene. Let us assume, for the present purpose; that mortifica-tign consists in any or all acts of virtue in as much as these involve foregoing what is pleasant or undergoing what is unpleasant. Thus it would be coexten,s, ive with the spher, e, covered by the old rule of the Stoics: bear and fork;ear. Though the word mortification (putting to death) may suggest the contrary, all sound ascetical authorities would hold that the purpose of it is posltix;e: life, a~nd more life. If inferior vital tendencies are checked and thwarted, it is only in order that the higher vital tendencies may bd saved from being checked and thwarted, and that they may be more freelyand richly developed. By all means, the aim of sound mortification is more and better life rather than less. "Ever we bear about in our body the dying of Jesus, so that the life, too, of Jesus may be made manifest in our bodies. For we who live are ever being delivered up to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life, too, of Jesus may be made manifest in our mortal flesh" (II Corinthians 4: I0-1 ! -~Westminster Version). (I) Auguste Saudreau. La Pi~tl d Travers Les Ages, page 661. (2) J. De Guibert. J:h'ctionnaire de SpiritualitY, Fascicule Premier. page 106. Hygienic mortification would consist in foregoing whatever is pleasant and undergoing whatever is unpleas-ant with a view to preserving, or improving, o.r regaining, one's health and vigor, and ultimately to.furth~ering God's glory and to-growing in that participation of, the divine life which comes with grace. Three degrees of hygienic mortification may be distinguished: first, avoiding any sin-ful neglect in the care of one's health; second, steering clear of whatever would .involve danger of such neglect; and third, refraining from wh~itever is less commendable in favor of the more commendable in this matter. Health is either physical or psychical. For the present, let us confine our. discussion to physical hygienic mortifica-tion. The psychic is more important in many respects, and more akin to the° "interior mortification" of the spiritual masters. Possibly in a subesequent paper we may revert.to it. Up to a certain point there is a strict obligation from the divine natural law to care for one's life and health. "Thou shalt not kill," either others or thyself. It is ethical to regulate our conduct in accordance with rational human nature and to avoid what tends to damage or destroy it. This d.uty requires .that one should use the ordinary means of sa.feguarding and preserving life and health. Nature is necessary for the supernatural life. If nature can do nothing in the supernatural order without grace; "neither can grace do anything without nature. It is .equally helpless. The Code of Canon Law, 1369, pr~scrib'es that those who are in charge, of seminaries should exhort the ~emii~arians Con-stant. ly to obs'erve the principles of hygiene and personal cleanliness. Presumably it is in .keeping with the mind of the Church that religious should do at lea~t~ as much. One who is. striving to become perfect will not stop with what is of strict obligation. He will constantly endeavor to do the better thing. Thebetter thing will indlude what-ever, other things being equal, is more conducive to bodily strength and effid~ncy. God counsels solicitude for health. "Better is a poor man who is sound, and strong of constitution, than a rich man who is weak and afflicted with evils. Health of the soul in holiness of justice, is better than all gold and silver: .and a sound body, than immense revenues. There is no riches above the riches of health of the body; and there is no pleasure above the joy of the heart. Better is death 33 t/~an a bit~ter life: and everlasting rest; than continual" sick-ness" (Ecclesiasticus 30: 14-17), In his inspired epistle to Timothy, St. Paul did not disdain to give this advice to one of the first bishops: "Drink no longer water only, but use a little wine, on account of thy stomach and thy frequent illness" (I Timothy 5:23). The divine counsel to have a concern for health is implied in all the numerous exhorta-tions to accomplish good works. As Pope Plus XI wrote in his "Encyclical on Education,"--.something, by the way, especially deserving notice by teadhers--"The true Chris-tian does not., stunt his natural faculties; but he develops and perfects them, by coordinating them with the super-natural. He thus ennobles what is merely natural in life and secures for it new strength in the material ond temporal order, no less than in the spiritual and eternal" (3). This is not the place for a presentation of the principles of hygiene, nor, even if it~ were, should I be presumptuous enough to. attempt such a thing. I should be:like the patient in the medical adage: "He who has himself for a doctor, has a fool for. a patient." If any religious should not know the elementary rules of h~giene, that is, the ~ules for living on the physiological plane, then let him begin his hygienic mortification by taking the trouble to-l~arn them. This is not an original suggestion ot: mine. A first-rate ascetical theologian of the twentieth century, namely, Zimmermann, the author of the excellent treatise Lel~rbucl~ der Asz~tik, counsels everyone seeking perfection to learn both the general prindiples of hygiene which may be studied, and the individual applica-tions and variations which must be gathered by personal experience (4). My attempt will be confined to indicatingcertain points on which the autldorities in hygiene do have something to prescribe, and to suggesting certain possible deviations that may perchance be found among religious. Posture migh~ be considered first. Constantly to pre-serve a wholesome and becoming posture of the body would not 6nly make for health, especially of the lungs, but it would also be something that would please others, and it would add to the influence of one's personality on others. Were it better observed, there would be fewer ill-looking (3) Pius XI. Christian Education of Youth; The Paulist Press: page 37. " '(4) Zimmermann. Otto. Lerhbueb d~r Asz.e. tiko page 516. 3# religious whose very appearance is, to put it mildly, not pleasing nor apt to inspire respect in Others. Certain religious seem to be given to the use of an exces-sive amount of clothing. To see them Out in winter weather, one might suspect from the. great number of thi~ngs 'which they are wearing, that they were planning on visiting the polar regions. Habitu'ally they are over-dressed. Then, sooner or later, iinevitably they are caught in some unex-pected exposure to cold, and, being sensitive like hot-house plants, rather than possessing the normal adaptability .to moderate variations in temperature, they~may catch cold,~ or develop a sore-throat or something of the sort. In any case, one would not expect a man who is ~eally mortified to be meticulous about slight changes in the temperature. Per- 'haps just the same persons are those who, believing that, as everything has its place, the proper place for fresh ai~ in winter is outside, insist on an immoderately high tempera- ~ure, and along with it, a bad atmosphere in the room. Thus .they diminish their alertness and efficiency, and at the same time waste steam and coal. Keeping the rules df etiquette at table would presum-ably be beneficial rather than harmful to one's health. At all events, it could be real charity and mortification. Cer-tainly, very certainly, it would be a great kindness to others, and tend to promote good appetite and health in the com-munity, as the neglect of good manners may be so great as to become disgusting to others. If there should be any re-" ligious who do not already know the ordinary pr~escriptions of table etiquette, then, by. all means, let them get Emily ¯ Post, and study her. It could be a very genuine act of vir-tue. Probably there are very few religious, those excepted who are already on a diet ordered by a physician, who could not make some change in their habits of eating and drinking that would not redound both to their physical well-being and to the glory of God. The right amount, the right balance of,diet, the right way of taking it,--these are points in which it is most human to err. Some, like chil-dren, may be inclined to slight the simple, solid substantials, and to show themselves too fond of sweets, desserts, and such better-tasting things. Possibly there are some who could at the same time reduce the community butcher-bill and improve their health. Some, though they lead a very 35 Sedentary lifd, may eat as if they had to dig ditches or. pitch. hay all day. .It i~ often said now that many Americans, even thosewho eat as much as and 'whatever they like, are star.ring themselves for the want of certain necessary ele-ments in their,diet: vitamines; for instance. Perhaps some ~.religious could drink less coffee, and thus improvetheir nerves, their t.emp~rs, their sleep, and their work. ~ The problems.of overweight and underweight, and all .their consequence.s, which may be 3r.ery serious indeed,hatur- :ally.suggest~ themselves in this context. Perhaps one ~eli-gi0us needs tO drink more milk, though he ~tislikes it~ and .another ought to'take.less of it, though he Iovesit. Pos-sibly one religious should mortify his pride and ask for permission to have an extra lunch~ between meals; "and an: other would do w~ll to obtain leave.to Omit the midday l_uneh. Iridi.vidual applic.ations of this point are~ infinite: If one realizes that he should dos0mething, gut not ~know what, it .would be easy to question the community phys, ician and find out. Thereare many religious who CgUld pr.actice this particular form of hygienic mortification, arid while making themselves more healthy and robust and fit for work and for a lon.ger life, also add very great!~; ~o the glory of God and the glory of His Elect in the hereafter. If one were to accuse, many male religious of smoking too much and thug really injuring themselves, one wduld only be repeating what they themselves accuse themselves of. Their oportunityiS obvious~ and the mortification involved would b~ great; but So ~ouldothe returris, at least in supernatural merit. T, he possibilities for mortification and for edific~ation, in connection with alc6h61 need only to ¯ be suggested. No,doubt there are many religious, who, if they be well-informed and sincere, would have to admit that some ~hangeinz~their lives ~ith respect to exercise Would, even from the spiritual pointof view, be an excellent thihg for them. If they need more physical exercise and can get it in some pleasant way, relaxing the nerves and mind as well as stirring the muscles, somuch the bett~r. " But get itthey ought, if they are fully to accomplish the tasks assigned to them by Providence. If nothing else .be possible; some form of calisthenics or setting-up exercise~ might be" tried fo~ a. prescribed number of minutes every day. If anybody think that there is no great mortification in faithfully per~ severing° in such a routine day after day and' month after m0nth,~let him try it . Many religious women would probably: be spared many troubles of mind and conscience, would performtheir exeicises of.piety with more energy and devotion, and would be more ready°in their obedience~ and work, as well, as morse healthy, if they h'ad a little walk every day' in the fresh air. Younger sisters, who until rather recently were college girls taking part in college athletics, might play a short game of tennis, or something of the kind. It would make for sound nerves and clear heads, and these in turn could obviate many. temptations and worries. It is:.true indeed that St. Paul wrote to Timothy: "For whereas bodily training oi~.,profitable for little, pietyis profitable for'all,things, .pos-sessing promise of life both here and hereafter" (I Tim-othy' 4:8). I take this to mean th~it bodily.training is of .little value in comparison with piety; but in as much as it is subordinated to.the purposes of wirtue and is a requisite condition for more vigorous piety, or piety in a longer life, its .wo.rthmay bereallY~very~great. ' " -" The ancient ascetics by way of reaction, it seems, to abuses connected with.the old public baths, mortified them-selves by not bathing. Could it be true that some.modern ascetics might practice mortification and virtue .by-making more use of it? ~ Care of the eyes deserves special mention. Apparently there are many who could deny themselves at times by taking the trouble to get better light when they are reading. Work, since it takes most of .the time and energy of religious, is a very fertile field for mortification. Some over-w' 6rk themselves for a time, and then for. a longer time they ¯ cannot do the normal amount, and perhaps~ ~hey evens:need the work of others to attend to them. Their ~problem is to avoid excess here, asin the practice of virtue generally. would Seem to be a good rule that there should.~nev~er:~.be overwork or overstrain except in emergencies. In the long run it is very poor economy and ef[iciency. They especially should cultivate self-abnegation'm avoiding overfatigue wh6 do not let superiors know that too much has been assigned to them; or who deceive themselves into believing that they. are heroically sacrificing themselves for noble motives when in 'reality there is an admixture of piide or human respect or merely human desire of success in thei:r 37 motivation. Sisters who in difficult days are attempting the double tasks of teaching and of getting their own edu-: cation at the Same time need more than others to guard themselves, even as the dreaded examinations approach, against overstudy and excessive exhaustion. Overfatigue -begets irritability, diminishes intelligence and liberty, and unbalances the nerves. Then the way is open to evils of all sorts, physical, mental, and moral. "So that ye may not grow weary and lose heart" (Hebrews 12:3). Humbly to be satisfied with a modest accomplishment when that is all that is possible without injuring oneself, or diminishing one's achievement in the end, is a very salutary form of mortification. There are others whose fault is too little exertion. Some of these, could benefit themselves physically, and perhaps mentally, as well as spiritually, by increasing their efforts until they reach the mean between excess and defect. Occu-pational therapy is an important kind of treatment for certain cases. After work, recreation and rest. For people who lead a life as strenuous and tense and uniform as the religious life is, recreation is of great importance. If they do not unbend at times, they will break. But are there not some religious who do not take even that minimum amount of recreation which is enjoined for them by their rules or their superiors? Here, in a peculiarway, to mortification charity could also be added. It is understood of course that what is supposed to be recreation or relaxation, really is recreation. Prob-ably no one will deny that there are at least a few religious who could advance in self-abnegation, and in prayer (especially the next morning), and in .virtue generally, by beginning their night's sleep betimes. Thus far certain points which may be the subject of ~mortification that is good for the body as well as for the soul. Only those in normal health, or at least in health that is nearly normal, have been considered. If one be sick already, evidently one has a greater need for hygienic mortification, and a greater opportunity to bear what is unpleasant and to forbear what is pleasant. Those who as yet are well, but, through some neglect or other, are slowly but surely undermining their health, could more easily and readily mend their ways if they could imagine to some slight extent what pain and torture, whaf 38 disappointment, what bitter sense of frustration, they are bringing upon thems~elves. Mortification is hard; other-wise it would not be mortification. But it is still worse to be sickand incapacitated, particularly if that be owing to some negligence or fault. An initial, though negative, advantage of hygienic mortification is that nobody can object to it on the score that it might injure his health. By definition, it makes for better health. Then, it possesses the-advantages and values of other forms of mortification, and besides, it is more thor-oughly positive and constructive than some of them. It is real and genuine mortification, involving, as it does, the suppression of much that is pleasant and the enduring of much that is unpleasant. :If anyone should think other-wise, he can try the experiment. Religious have a special need of keeping fit physically. There is the importance, in time and eternity, of their work, and this depends in great measure, on health and strength. An intense interior life--and this is always the ideal of religious--makes greater demands upon physical resources than the intellectual life, which in turn is hard enough upon the physique. The cultivation of mental prayer, of supreme importance in the spiritual life, demands that one's physical resources be at their best. Community o,bservances require health in the members of the com-munity, and if a sickly person drags himself along somehow to follow them, he is likely to become still worse and more incapable of continued community life. The great foundress, St. Theresa of Avila, who knew well the problems of religious women, and particularly the difficulties of mental prayer, wrote: "It is this resolution [to be always thinking of Him and loving Him] that He [God] seeks in us; the o~her anxieties which we inflkt upon ourselves serve to no other end but to disquiet the soul-- which, if it be unable to derive any profit, in one hour [of prayer], will-by ttiem be disabled for four. This comes most frequently from bodily indisposition--I have had very ~reat experience in the matter, and I l~now it is true; for I have carefully observed it and discussed it afterwards with spiritual persons--for we are so wretched, that this poor prisoner of a soul shares in the miseries of the body. The.change.s of season, and the-alterations of the humors,,. very often compel it, without fault of its own, not to do what if would,, but rather to suffer in every way. Mean-while, the more we force the soul on these occasions, the greater the mischief, and the longer it lasts. Some discre-tion must be used, in order to ascertain whether ill-health be the occasion or not. The poor soul must not be stifled. Let those who suffer thus, understa'nd that they are i11: a change should be made in the hour of prayer, and often-times that change should be continued for some days. Let souls pass out of this desert as they can, for it is very often the misery of one that loves God to see itself living in such wretchedness, unable to do what it would, because it has to keepso evil a guest as the body" (5). Other things being equal, alacrity of spiritand intensity of good will in exercises of piety, in keeping religi0us disci-pline, and in doing the work of the order or congregation, are to be expected rather from those who are physically fit ai~d strong than .from those who ,are unfit. The supernatural values of sickness and suffering~are very great, but it is understood and presupposed that the illness should not be due to indiscretion or negligence. ¯ Hygienic mortification~ will. contribute to poverty, because it is cheal~er to be well than to be paying for medi-cines, hospitalizations, and operations, and because healthx,, religious do more work. It will help chastity, by precluding certain temptations due to abnormal physical conditions, and by promoting, that soundness and stability of the ner-vous system which are so necessary for self-control. It will promote obedience, by removing obstacles both to readiness of will ai~d to actual performance, and by conferring greater positive strength and effciency. It will enhance charity and perfectibn it~self, by forestalling irritability and other impediments, and by enabling one to accomplish better and greater things for God and for souls. The present incumbent of the See of Peter and his immediate predecessor seem to offer an illustration in point. If Msgr. Ratti ha~d not been a very energetic Alpine climber, it is not likely that as Pius XI, and as a septuagenarian and an octogenarian, he could have achieved so much for the good of the Church. If I mistake not, the ascetical Car.- dinal Pacelli,while Secretary of State at the Vatican, used gymnastic apparatus installed in a room near his office. (5) St. Theresa, Life, translated b.y D. Lewis: chapter-XI. 40 There is one group of re.ligious for whom hygienic, mor~ tification, as thus far suggested, is not at all recommended. They are the hypochondriacs, to be found, here and there throughout the whole body of religiousl that is, those who are already excessively or even morbidly, solicitous about their health and all that appertains to it. For them it would be poison. However, they still need hygienic mortification: only it is of the psychic form. This they may need very rfiuch ideed. To quote St. Theresa again: "Take care, then, of the body, for the love of God, because at many other times the body must serve tl~e s0ul;.and let recourse be had to some recreations~holy ones such as conversation; or going out intothe fields . . . Altogether, experience is a great matter, and it makes us understand what is convenient for us. Let God be served in all things--His yoke is sweet; and it is of great importance that the soul should not be dragged, as they say, but carried gently, that it may make greater pro-gress" (6.). In conc!usion, a religious practicing physical hygienic mortification, as here proposed, will not by any means put care of his health above things that are of greater value, but rather, with the purest and noblest motives, make the most of the physical constitution that God has given him, and thus be better prepared and disposed to accomplish the very utmost for the glory of the Triune God, for the devel-opment of his own supernatural life, and for the sanctifica-tion of his brethren. He would simply and fully be helping to carry out the grand objective of the Incarnation: "I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abun-dantly" ¯ (2ohn 10: 10). (6) Ibidem. l:::xernpl:ions J:rom Fasting Gerald Kelly, S.J. THE PENITENTIAL season of Lent always brings with it the personal question: what should I do about fasting? Very likely the practical solution to thi~ problem in most religious communities is a regulation to consult one's confessor' and abide by his decision. This is certainly a wholesome custom; and it is notthe purpose of this article to criticize it in any way. Nevertheless, it seems profitable for the religious themselves to know something of the mind of the Church regarding exemptions from fast-ing. This .knowledge should be particularly helpful to superiors, since there may be times when they must pass judgment on their subjects' obligation to fast. Other re-ligious also can profit by the knowledge, for it sometimes happens that they cannot consult their confessor, at least for several days, and, even when they can consult, they can do so more intelligently and follow advice more reasonably if they are familiar with the principles governing their cases. This article, therefore, is intended to answer only one question, which may be phrased as follows: In what cir-cumstances is one exempt from the general law of fasting? The only point to be considered is the obligation to keep the general fasts of the Church. There is no question here of the obligations of rule concerning fasting as these exist in various religious communities. Nor is there question of the ascetical aspect of fasting. We can take for granted that fasting is. a splendid act of penance and mortification, as is evidenced by the entire Catholic tradition in the matter; take for granted also that the keeping of the common fasts of the Church in union with the other members of the Church is highly pleasing to God and of great profit to souls. These are interesting questions, but beside the point of the present article, the whole purpose of which is to determine who, according to the mind of the Church, may omit fasting without violating her law. The first expression of the Church's mind is found in the ecclesiastical law itself. Canon 1254, which contains the fasting law, exempts al! who have not completed their twenty-first year and all who have begun their sixtieth year. 42 Canon.1245 makes provision for other exemptions by granting the power of dispensing to local Ordinaries~ pas-tors, and superiors of exempt clerical orders. Custom, the unwritten law of the Church, exempts all who are engaged in hard and protracted manual labor. The foregoing are the only reasons for exemption con-tained explicitly in the law of the Church. They do not, however, exhaust the reasons which the Church acknowl-edges as valid excuses from the obligation of fasting. By far the greater number of excuses can be found in the teaching of the moral theologians. To put the matter briefly, these theologians, applying a principle approved by the Church as a legitimate method of interpreting the law, teach that fasting is not obligatory when it involves extraordinary difficulty. The word, extraordinarg, has a technical meaning which is perhaps best explained by contrasting it with what might be termed ordinarg difficulty. Evidently, the fasting law is intended to impose on the faithful some inconven-ience, that is, the inconvenience of self-denial. An incon-venience of this kind is termed ordinarg, and it would not excuse anyone from the observance of the fast. On the other hand, in a general law of this nature, the Church does not wish to impose exceptional hardship on anyone; much less does she wish to do harm or to hinder greater good. Such difficulties as these would be termed extraordinaru~, with respect to this law; that is, they are outside the scope of the law, and they excuse the faithful from the obligation of observing it. Applying this principle of extraordinary inconvenience, moralists teach that the sick and convalescent are excused from the obligation of fasting. Also exempt are those who, though perhaps not technically "sick," are of frail consti-tution; also extremely nervous people. Such persons nor-mally need nourishment frequently; fasting would prove harmful to them. It sometimes happens that even those in rather normal health cannot fast without severe headaches or dizzy, spells; also that the fast will render it impossible for them to get ¯ their needed rest at night. Some people are unable to get the one substantial meal allowed to those who fast; some are physically unable to eat or digest such a meal. Finally,. there are many who find that fasting interferes with their 43 necessary work; they lose valuable time and are quite inef-ficient. All cases like these are included under the exemp-tion by reason of extraordinary inconvenience. One might ask this very practical question: How am I to know if fasting would be exceptionally difficult for me or be harmful to me or my work? Perhaps the simplest way of answering this question is to tell such people to experiment a bit. This is the simplest but not always the most prudent method. Unless the experimentation is car-ried on very cautiously, it can work harm, and it can do this so quietly that the harmful effects are not perceived until it is too late. To avoid such injurious effects, one may legiti-mately follow certain recognized presumptions in deciding one's obligations to fast. The presumption of excuse favors those who are engaged in hard mental labor, for example, teachers and students. Regarding teachers, one may notice an interesting development~ in the opinions of theologians. The older theologians were quite ready to excuse a. professor of the higher branches, even though he had to lecture only one hour a day. They presupposed, of course, that he had to spend the day in preparation and that he did not merely read lectures which bad long since been cast into permanent mold. But these theologians were not always so benevo-lently inclined toward teachers of the lower grades (the equivalent of our high schools and grammar schools), even though these had to spend several hours a day in the. class-room. Father Ballerini, an eminent moral theologian of the last century, citing the especially severe opinion of one older school, remarked very tartly: "we should note that these great doctors were always engaged in teaching the higher branches; they had no experience in this humbler art." Also in the case of students there has been a progres-sive development towards leniency. Today, it is quite safe to say that the presumption of excuse favors those who spend several hours a day in teaching the lower grades, as well as diligent students who spend most of the day either in attending lectures or in preparing their lessons. When I say "the presumption of excuse favors" those mentioned in this paragraph, I mean that these persons may consider that they are not obliged to fast, unless they have very solid grounds for assurance that they can fast without, harm to 44 themselves, or their work. Those able to fast while carrying on these works are the.exception, rather than the rule. . The same presumption favors those who must spend long hours in the confessional or who are engaged in strenu-ous preaching.It may also be used in favor of those who are engaged in fatiguing works of mercy, such as caring for the sick. It should be noted that. in a!l these.cases, it is not only the strain of ~the work which favors exemption, but also the fact that the works themselves are of, great impor-tance. There should .be no danger that fasting will inter-fete with their proper performance. The foregoing examples of extraordinary ir~con~cen~ ience were chosen because they are of particular interest or practical value to the readers of this magazine. In cases such as these, the Church law does not bind. Furthermore, merely from the point of view of general legislation, there is no strict obligation Of consulting anyone, if one can form a prudent judgment of his~own case. A community regula-tion of consulting the confessor or spiritual director should; of course, be followed; and in general it is considered wise for everyone to consult about the matter. Often enough, it is diflScult to form a prudent, and especially a quieting; judgment of one's own case. Mention has already been made of those who have the power of granting a dispensation from fasting; local Ordi~ naries, pastors, and superiors of clerical exempt orders. These generally delegate the power to other priests, espe-cially at a time like-Lent: and the Holy. See. occasionally delegates other priests by special indults. None of these, even the Bishop, can give a dispensation without some rea-son; but the reason need not b~ so serious as would be required for exemption by reason of extraordinary~incon-venience. A dispensation is perhaps the best of all means for setting one's mind at rest regarding the obligation 0~ fasting. Even those religious superiors who have no power to dispense can pass judgment on their subjects' ability to keep the fast, and if they judge that a reason such as those described as extraordinary inconveniences is present, they may tell the subject not to fast. For passing such a judg-ment, no special jurisdiction is necessary. Certainly supe-riors are in a position to make a prudent judgment, for they 45 should know both the capacity of their subjects and the strain or importance Of their work. From what has been written here, it will appear that a fairly large number of religious engaged in the active life are not strictly obliged to keep the general fasts of the -Church. They have the same right as others to take advan-tage of exemptions. Someone might object, of course, that religious have an added obligation to give good example. The objection does not appear to have much weight in the :present instance. Religious should, by all means, give example to the world of a spirit of self-denial and mortifi. cation, but it is not necessary that this example extend to ,the letter of the law concerning fasting. In fact, without attempting in any way to minimize the general importance of the fasting law, one might advance several obvious reasons why religious have less need of this particular austerity than have others. ' Their life is a well-regulated, well-disciplined one, and those who lead it faithfully are being constantly schooled in self-denial. Furthermore, the very regularity of their life makes them feel more keenly the change brought about by fasting and renders them more apt to be upset by it. Finally, their work itself is of great spiritual importance.i As for bad example, the sharp or sarcastic word spoken by the confessor, teacher, or nurse is much more harmful than the so-called "scandal" of religious who do not fast. Perhaps these few remarks Will prove helpful to reli-gious, particularly to those who are inclined to worry about the fasting obligation or to lament the fact that they are judged unable to fast. They should take consolation in the thought that they can practise an even more meritorious self-denial by observance of their rule, by fidelity to duty, and especially by a constant and delicate charity. The inability to fast does not deprive them of the opportunity of glorifying God or of helping souls. 46 Saint: Rober Bellarmine's . Sign of the Cross Clement DeMuth, S. J. CATHOLICS with a greater than average knowledge of their religion are ~sometimes at a loss when they are called upon to render an. account of some simple reli-gious truth. They discover in themselves, not so much a lack of technical knowledge that lends itself to explanation only in learned phrase_s, but rather a failure to appreciate thd mental capacity of the child or other unlettered person to be instructed. To adapt one's knowledge of even the simpler God-give~i truths to the understanding of such a person is an art that must be cultivated, and developed, and integrated with one's deepening knowledge of human nature itself. The great catechists in the course of the Church's history practiced this art in signal fashion. One of the greatest of these, if indeed not the very greatest, was St. Robert Bellar-mine, Cardinal, Theologian, and Doctor of the Universal Church. In 1597 Pope Clement VIII requested St. Robert to publish his catecheticai method which was proving so successful With the unlettered people of Rome. The saint prepared two catechisms, the first of which was a compen-dium of Christian Doctrine in form suitable for learning by rote. The second, with Which we are here partkularly con-cerned, was a kind of teacher's manual and was entitled An explanation of Christian Doctrine u;ritten in the form of a Dialogue, for the use of those who teach it to children and to other simple people. The success of the little, two-fold work, written in Italian, was immediate and, What is more significant, enduring to an extraordinary degree. In the words of St. Robert's biographer, Father Brodrick, "wi~h the exception of the Bible and the Imitation of Christ, it would be difficult to name any other book which went round the world so rapidly and became familiar to so many different races." A series of Roman Pontiffs com-mended, prescribed, and in general promoted the little work down through the years from the time of Clement VIII. until our own century. With its richness of content, the saint's early chapter on that most obvious---and not always fully appreciated~ ~prayer, the Sign of the Cross, is representative. Its atten-tive perusal brings the conviction that "children and other simple people" are not the only ones who may profit by the saintly, Doctor's explanation of a simple prayer. The style of composition is informally conversational, with the pupil thoughtfully asking questions which would naturally occur to one listening attentively to the explanation of a rather difficult truth. It may be noted that the teacher makes, continual use of examples and illustrations, never permitting himself to forget that the pupil is little used to abstractions. Here is a translation of the chapter on THE SIGN OF THE CROSS PUPIL: Please give me a brief account of the more important mysteries contained in the Creed. TEACHER: There are two principal mysteries of our faith, and both are included in that sign which we call the Sign of the Cross. The first is the unity and trinity of God. Thesecond is the Incarnation and Death of the Savior PUPIL: What is meant by the unity and trinity of God? TEACHER: These are very deep truths and the explana-tion of them is a very slow process. For the time being, however, it will be enough to learn just the names, :and a very little bit more. The unity of God means that besides all created things there is one thing that had no beginning. It has always been and it will always be. It has made all ¯ other things, and it supports them and governs them. It is the highest, noblest, most beautiful, most powerful, the absolute master of every thing; and this being is called God. There is just one God. There can be only one true Divin-ity, that is, one nature, one essence infinitely powerful, wise, good, and so forth. Nevertheless, this Divinity is found in three persons that are called the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. These three persons are just one God ¯ because they have the same Divinity, the same essence. As for example, if three persons here on earth, named Peter, Paul, and John, had the same body and the same soul, they would remain three persons; because one would be Peter, and another Paul, and another John. Nevertheless, there would be just one man, not three men, there not being three bodies and thr~e souls, but just one body and one soul. 48 Such a state of affairs is not possible among men, because the being of man is little ~and finite, .so it cannot be in many persons. But the being of God, the Divinity of~ God,. is infinite. The same being, the same Divinity is found in the Father, in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit. There are then three persons because one i~ the Father~ the second.is the Son, an.d the third is the Holy Spirit, and there remains nevertheless just one God, because these persons have the same being, the same power, wisdom, goodness, and so forth. PUPIL: Now tell me what is meant by the Incarnation and.Death of the .Savior'. TEACHER: The second divine person, whom we called the Son, besides his divine being, which he had before the 'world was created, indeed from all eternity, this second person took for himself a human body and a human soul, that is, our whole human nature, in the womb of a most pure virgin. Thus he who-was at first just God now began to bd both God and man. After living among men for thirty-three years, during which time he taught the wa~ of salvatioh and worked m~an~r miracles, at last he let him-self be crucified, and on the Cross he died tO make satisfac-tion to God for the sins of the whole world. After thfee days he rose from death to life, and after forty days he a~cended into hea~ce.n, as we say in the article of the Creed.~ That is what we mean by the Incarnation ~ind Death of the Savior. '~PUPIL~ Why are these the principal mysteries of fdith? " " ~FEACHER: Because in the fi~st ~is contained the first principle and last end of man; in the second we have ttie unique and most efficacious means of knowing that first piinciple and of arriving at that last end. And beck/use by our belief in arid confession of th4se two mysteries we~ are distinguished from all th4 false sects, from Turks, ~dews; and heretics. And finally, because without b41ieving and confessing these two mysteries, no one can be saved. PupIi~:. How are these two mysteries included in the Sign of the Cross? TEACHER: ;The Sign of the Cross is made saying: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 49 Spirit; at the same time signing oneself in the form of a cross, putting the right hand to the foreh_.ead when one says: In the name of the Father, and then to the breast when one says: and of the Son; finally to the left and right shoulders when one says: and of the Holy Spirit. The words, in the ' Name, show the unity of God, because we say name and not names; and by name is meant the power, and the divine authority, which is one in all three persons. The words, of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, show the trinity of persons, Signing oneself in the form of a cross represents the Passion, and consequently the Incarnation, of the Son of God. Moving the hand from the left to the right, and not from the right to the left, means that by the Passion of our Lord we are transferred from temporal to eternal things, from sin to grace, and from death to life. ~ (NOTE: It may be well to observe that St. Robert, in illustrating certain spiritual realities by the movement of the hand from left to right, can be said to be exercising his ingenuity. He'would no doubt find another interpretation if his catechism were for oriental Catholics, who make the Sign of the Cross moving the hand from right to left!) PUPIL: What is. the effect of making the Sign of the Cross? TEACHER: First, it shows that we are Christians, that is, soldiers of our High Commander, Christ: because this sign is like a flag, or uniform, which distinguishes the sol-diers of Christ from all the enemies of Holy Church; from . gentiles, Jews, Turks, and heretics. Further, this sign is made to invoke the divine assistance in all our works. With ¯ it we summon the aid of the most Holy Trinity, through the Passion of the savior. Accordingly good Christians are .accustomed to make the Sign of the Cross when they rise from bed, when they leave the house, when they sit at table to eat, when they are about to go to bed, and at the beginning of every action that ~hey have to perform. Finally, this sign is made to arm oneself against eirery as-sault of~the devil, because the devil is terrified by it, and flees from it, as do criminals when they encounter the sign of th~i~ police. Very often by means 6f this sign of the holy - Cross man has escaped many evils, both spiritual and tem-p6ral; when he makes it with faith and confidence in the divine meicy and in the merits of Christ, our Lord. 50 Li!:urgy in !:he ¯ P !:t:ern of Modern Praying Gerald Ellard, S.J. WHEN the history o~ our times is written, chroniclers will dwell on the fact that they are characterized by three great, world-embracing prayer-movements. They will speak of the widespread initiation of large groups of the laity of both sexes into systematic asceticism,, be it that of the Spiritual Exercises, or other forms, collectively centering in what is known as the retreat movement~. Again, they will point how this age, .the world,over, has shown a sudden deep concern' practical as well as theoreti-cal, in that communion with God, that apperception of God, known as Catholic mysticism. Lastly historians will take pains to record that twentienth century Catholicism is endeavoring once more to integrate the layman and lay-woman into the offices of public worship. Doubtless, too, the portrait-painters of our age will pause a bit to discourse on the mysterious power possessed by this Church twenty. centuries young to renew its life and reform its institutions by drawing upon fresh streams of vita!it~ welling strong within her. ".So it has been in each great crisis," we can well imagine one of them concluding-; "when the forces of the Church seems spent, then it is she finds new power surging up within her: in the twentieth century the Church refreshed herself and the world by refashioning the pattern of her praying." This article concerns itself in elementary fashion with indicating what is to be expected from the restoration to the people, in the pews, after many long ages, of their organic contact with the ministry in the sanctuary in the joint performance of divine service. The better to visualize the goal o[ this reform in Cath-olic corporate worship, suppose we ask ourselves why such a thing as the. current liturgical movement was simply inevitable, and must have come sooner or later, if the Church were not content to see one. of her chief organs wither to full atrophy. The present-day reform of Cath-olic worship seeks to redress the multiple losses that laymen. and laywomen have suffered in the course of time in their parr in our common worship, seeks to lower the wall of separation, which quite literally in many medieval churches to be seen to this day, and figuratively in them all, shuts the laity out from active sharing in what went on within the holy place where the priestly mediator stood at the altar. It was characteristic of Christian worship from the very outset that it was planned precisely to allow the fullest understanding on thd part of all, the fullest sharing in their respective roles .by ministry and people in their joint asso- Ciation with Christ, theirPriest, their Liturgist. Pagan altars were accessible to the pagan priests alone; the ,Jewish Temple admitted' lay-worshippers to the outer court near to the altar. But with Christians the altar itself stood con- ~picuous and accessible to every least, last Christian, because m the new priestly race, all had some sharing, priestly or lay, in the perpetuation of Christ's priestly ministry in the covenant of 10ve. St. Paul thankedGod that he efijoyed the miraculous gift of speaking God's praises in unknown tongues: "Nevertheless," he said, "in church I had rather speak five words with my understanding, so as to instruct Others, than ten thousand words in a 'tongue' " I and my hearers do not understand" (I Corinthenians 14:: 19). Now Catholic worship in the West turned from the primitive Greek to the Latin, when that became the tongue the com-mon man understood best. It then took the liturgy of 'the Western Church a fairly long period in which to grow and develop, until at Rome under Gregory I, Pop.e from 590 to .°.6. 04, it achieved its zenith, the perfect expression of the Latin Christian's corporate worship of almighty God. How regrettable that Gregory lived in an age of indescrib-able upheaval, which rendered the realization of his ideal in worship impossible in any ecumenical manner! Particu- ¯ lar features excepted, the liturgy of the Roman Rite has never since received such a thorough-going reform and readjustment to current life as Gregory gave it then. In one way or another the layman's place in the liturgy has become more circumscribed with every century since Gregor3~ lived. To illustrate how this has been the case, suppose we imagine a sevent.h-century man or woman living on as a 'Wandering Christian" through the intervening centuries, and note how such a pilgrim would find lay-participation in worship further impoverished age by age. 52 In Gregory's day, for all greater occasions, people met at a fixed rendezvous and then marched to church .with Cross and banners, prayer and song~ At the common type of Mass, what we call high Mass, pedple and choir of clerics together madd, in the language of everydayiife, those responses to the celebrant, which, if they are not exactly the structure of the service, are nonetheless so many short, vibrant bonds with the altar. At the entrance of the clergy, in alternation with the choir, there was singing. So, too, did the people come singing to bring their gifts to the altar at the Offering (Offertory). They shared the~cle'rgy's ceremonial postures, standing, extending their arms, bowing or kneeling with the ministers, and gave each other the kiss of peace. So did they join in the psalmody, singing at leas~ the Gloria Patti, the K~rie, the Sanctus, and, when it was later introduced, the Agnus Dei. Singing too they came to the altar, the Table of Union, itself the sign, as the Fathers of Trent were to phrase it later, "of that one Body of which He is the Head, and to which He would fain have us as members united by the closest bond of faith, hope and love." The Roman of Gregory's day could in many ways feel himself "concorporate" in his' worship with every one sharing that worship with him. In the following century, had our pilgrim attended Mass in England, France, Germany, notto mention other coun-tries, he would look in vain for the procession to Mass. Save on Christmas, Easter or Pentecost there would be few communicants at Mass, and correspondingly few offerers giving visible expression of the basic concept of the worship of God by sacrifice. Then, too, he would have found him-self one of the very few laymen able to follow the stately Latin,and, as we see from conciliar enactments, not all the priests able to translate for him! But.our pilgrim would: note with a sigh the people's' eagerness in singing as far.as circumstances allowed. There at least he could still join. with them in prayer that sang. After a second century of wandering, during let us say the pontificate of Nicholas I ( 8 5 8- 8 6 7), our pilgrim would have noted with growing apprehension how elementary part-singing had already been discovered. "I sadly fear this may in course of time lead to the neglect, or even-the corruption, of unison singing, planesong,* alone possible to *Concerning this spelling, see note at the end of the article. 53 the congregation as a whole." But he would have hailed with delight the opportunity given him in the appearance of the sequences,~ to sing simple, homely rhyming lines with lustiness and joy, Could he have foreseen the future, he would have known that after their period of development, and luxuriance, there would follow such decay that with fewest exceptions the sequences were all to be expunged from the Missal. When that happened, there was taken from the layman the last impoitant element of the Mass he could still sing. And so it goes across the ages. When St. Thomas was writing in the thirteenth century his explanation of the Mass, he takes it- for~granted that "there are words which the l~riest begins and thd people take up . the Creed and the Gloria.'" In St. Thomas' day the people stil.1 answered Et cam st~iritu tuo, Amen and the like. Shall we follow our weary pilgrim into-the fourteenth century? In The Low Countries, England, France, Ger-many and elsewhere we find him complaining that the new measured music in such rising vogue everywhere was by its very difticulty robbing him of his chance to sing his prayer to God. "Soon.all singing in church will be the monopoly of the expert musicians, and to them will be restricted the fulfillment of St. Augustine's words, 'He that sings prays double.' " What was more, the new type of music, by its sensuous character, so said Pope John XXII, was under-mining his virility of soul. But Pope John XXII was one of the popes of the so-called Avignon Captivity; and for that reason people considere~l him unduly influenced by the French court. His admonitions drew little attention. ~ There was a period when the Council of, Basle was Cath-olic and well-inspired, and thither our pilgrim might have looked for reform of long-standing abuses. How he would have been cheered to note the Council's condemnation and abolition (?) of that abuse whereby "low Mass was said in such a tow .tone that it cannot be heard by those attending." That abuse seems to-have been spreading then in the northern parts of Europe: "If this is not stopped,~' our pilgrim grimly reflects,"even my few answers at low Mass will soon be made impossible." But that was at a day when the Church hadjust healed :the great scandal of the Great Western.Schism, and papal prestige stood too low to effect far-teaching reforms just then. in 15.18 Cardinal Louis of Aragon went into The Low Countries. ~Hadour pilgrim gonein his train be might .have seen the cardinal's secretary~ write in his journal about the Flemish priests:"They say .[Mass] . . . so low that no ohe hears their voices. They do not permit anyone .to make the responses, except the servers, and no one else."' That was~ noted, of course, because it was cbntrary to Roman practice come down from time beyond memory. But in 1518 Rome was suffering the baleful consequences of Italian Humanism, and suggestions a cardinal.might make on 1.ittle points like letting the'people respon~l at low Mass would fall with little weight. Then, too, when the car; dinal's secretary made that entry in his notebook, it was already soinemonthssinceMartin Luther had appended.his theses to the door of the Cathedral of Wittenburg, and thereby set in motion a chain of events that led to the calling of.the Council of Trent. "At long last the-layman'~s losses over a_period of a thousand years will surely be redressed at this greht Council," said our pilgrim as he faced the journey to Trent.Let us see how Trent prescribed for the cure of this pernicious aenemia of the layman's worship, only to have the administration of the remedy, postponed by yet further troubles. The aging Luther ,did not see fit to attend the Council, to .which he had once so solemnly appealed, and indeed he was in- his grave beforeits sessions were completed. But despite~his absence, he was the greatest chalienge to the Council, because he had become the symbol of every kind of error, the accuser of every discoverable abuse. Not a few,of those abuses were related to public worship, and as our pilgrim could have testified, were associated-with th~ fact that for centuries the layman was being deprived by force of circumstances ,of an active and intelligent part in divine service. All.this, it Was then hoped, would be remedied in this great Council. ~' Of all the Cotincils, Trent claims a position unique in many ways, one of which was that from the very outset the definition of. doctrine and the enactment of reform-decrees went forward simultaneously. From the Second Session (the decree opening the Council being the sole. business, of the First Sesson), ,lanuary 7, 1546, to the Twenty-Fifth 55 Session, December 4, 1563, the multiple questions to.ucl~ing the reform of Catholic public worship came up again and again. The Council's solicitude' was most in evidence in all that referred to holy Mass, becau.~e, as the Fathers said, "of all holy things this Sacrifice is the most holy." In resisting the Protestant demands, the Council deemed it "inadvisable that Mass should be celebrated everywhere in the vulgar tongue." Yet on all having the care of souls it laid the obligation, "lest the little ones ask for bread and there be none to break unto them, to explain frequently during the celebration of the Mass, especially on Sundays and festival days . some mystery of this most holy Sac-rifice." If Trent similarly rejected the Reformers' petition " that the entire Mass be said aloud, it did reaffirm "that some .things in the Mass be pronounced in a low tone and others m a louder tone." Masses at which the priest alone com-municated were emphatically declared to be valid Masses, yet in crystal-clear language is affirmed the desirability of having all worshippers communicate: "The holy Council wishes indeed that at each Mass the faithful who are present should communicate, not only in spiritual desire, but also by the sacramental partaking of the Eucharist, that thereby they may derive from this most holy Sacrifice a more abun-dant fruit." With regard to nuns the. Council here went .further and decreed that they must communicate .at least once a month: "Bishops and other superiors of monasteries° shall t~ike special care that the nuns., confess their sins and receive the most holy Eucharist at least once a month." The reforms of the Missal and the Breviary, begun at the .Council, were then handed over to the Holy See for com-pletion. In a hundred minor ways the Council showed its zeal that anything savoring in the least degree of unworthi-ness be kept from the public worship of the Church. The thorny problem of having only proper music in the churches was given much more serious consideration than might be judged from the brevity, of this enactment: "They [local Ordinaries] shall also banish from the churches those types of music in which, whether by the organ or in the singing, there is mixed up anything unbe-coming., so that the house of God.may be truly a house of prayer." Indeed many a bishop at the Council may have had the painful experience of the force of that saying, that .more people were sung into Protestantism than argued into 56 it. As early as 1523; in his Form for Mass and Communion, Luther had touched upon the desirability of German singing: "I would wish among us to l~ave as much as pos-sible in the vernacular what the people sing at Mass." Within a year Luther had contributed no less than twenty hymns of his own composition to his cause, and after Ein /:este Burg had made its sensational reputation, reli-gious rebels in non-German countries began to sweep peop!e into their conventicles by giving .them the chance to sing at divine service. Small wonder that the Fathers of Trent, with all this before their eyes, wished to purge away the corruption that had overlaid the ChUrch's once so popular planesong. This once restored to the people, these would be saved the sad choice of active participation in unorthodox worship, or mute and silent worship in the Church of Rome. Thus our long-suffering pilgrim, attending the ses-sions of Trent, might have envisaged a veri

Issue 1.6 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; A. M. D. G. Review-for Kengmus. NOVEMBER 15, 1942 - How Voca,tions Grow . Thomas S. Bowdern Do We Need Direction? . ,John E. Coogan Plenary Indulgences. . Thomas A. O'Conn'or ¯ Sanctifying Grace~ . Leo A. Coressel .Perfection and the Rellgi~)us - " Commun;cations Book Reviews Ouestions Answered. Decisions of the Holy See .Index to Volume One I Nu~s~ 6 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME I NOVEMBER 15, 1942 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS COMMENTS~The Editors . .- . 362 HOW VOCATIONS GROWmThomas S. Bowdern. S.J .364 TWO CATECHISMS . 375 DO WE NEED DIRECTION?---3ohn E. Coogan, S.'J . 376 PLENARY INDULGENCES FOR THE SOULS IN PURGATORY-- Thomas A. O'Connor, S.J . 382 SANCTIFYING GRACE, A PRICELESS REALITYmLeo A.Coressel, S3.39.0 FRANCIS DE SALES AND THE LITTLE OFFICE .3.9.9 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS--Augustine Klaas, S.2. 400 BOOKS RECEIVED . 406 COMMUNICATIONS (On Spiritual Direction) .407 BOOK REVIEWS-- THE ART OF LIVING ,JOYFULLY. By the Reverend Henry Brenner, O.S~B4.16 CATECHISM COMES TO LIFE. By the Reverend Stephen Aylward : 416 SAINT THOMAS AQiJINAS MEDITATIONS.~ By the Reverend E. C. McEniry, O.P. 417 "DRAW NEAR TO HIM." By Sister Mary Aloysi Kiener, S.N.D. 419 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND THE VOWS. By Monseigneur CharlGesay 419 LA VIE DES COMMUNAUTES RELIGIEUSES. By the Franciscan Father4s21 MARY IN HER SCAPULAR PROMISE. By ,John Mathias Haffert 426 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 36. Right of junior member of family to vote .". . . . 422 37. Crozier Indulgences . 422 38. B~ll during the Angelus . 423 39. Reading of Decrees of Holy See . 423 40. Stations conducted by Sister Superior . 424 41. Residence of Sister Catechists . -. . 425 42. Re-election- of Councillors ¯ . 425 DECISIONS OFTHE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS427 BUSINESS ANNOUNCEMENTS . ~ 428 INDEX TO VOLUME I . 429 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1942. Vol. I, No. 6. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and Novemberl at The College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Ma~r's College, St. Marys, Kan-sas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January "15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editoriai Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.,J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.,J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1942, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotation~. of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a ~'ear. Printed in U. S. A. The Editors WE CLOSE this first year of .publication with a sincere "Thanks be to God!" When we finally decided to publish this magazine, the future had begun to look very uncertain. Shortly after we had announced publica-tion, the United States entered the war, and the uncertainty was increased. All through the first year we have felt the uneasiness characteristic of an.y "small business," because of the difficulty of obtaining materials. However, we still sur-vive, and we thank God and trust the future to Him. Our subscription list has increased gradually with each number. At present it is sufficient to guarantee our finan-cial security unless prices change very radically. From an apostolic point of view, we should like to see the list con-tinue to grow because there are many other priests and religious-who would, we think, find the REVIEW. helpful. We are grateful to our readers for their cooperation, and we ask prayers for God's continued blessing. . Vocations OME years ago Father Thomas S. Bowdern, S.J., com-bined educational necessity with apostolic enthusiasm by writing his doctorate thesis on the subject of religious vocations. The result of his efforts was a formidable heap of typewritten papers that make .two thick bound volumes. A small section of the thesis was printed; the remainder was kept from the public eye. The editors of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS paged through another section and found that it made interesting and profitable reading, provided One could distract oneself from such distressing technicalities as charts, graphs, and tables. We are publishing that section (minus 362 COMMENTS the technicalities) in the present number. We trust the readers' reactions will be as factorable as ours. Father Bowdern ~published the principal conclusions of his thesis in The Queen's Work. Later that same material was reprinted in a small booklet entitled A Study ot: Voca,. tions. Father Bowdern has a limited supply of the book-lets and sells them to interested parties for ten cents a copy --about cost price. If you wish a copy, write to: The Rev-erend Thomas S. Bowdern, S.3., Dean of the G~aduate School, The Creighton University, Omaha, Nebraska. Spiritual Direction ] N THIS. ISSUE we continue the discussion of spiritual direc, t~on. Father John Coogan, S.J., of the University of Detroit, contributes a brief articleon an aspect of the ques-tion that should not be ignored in our discussions. " Besides Father Coogan's article, we print some rather lengthy communications. We trust that the readers will not find that this gives them too much of the samd thing. We consider this an important subject; and we think it well to treat it thoroughly now rather than let it drag on indef-initely. A few more articles on the same subject will very likely be printed in subsequent numbers. After that (in compliance with a suggestion made by a priest in one of the present communications) we shall try to give a useful sum-mary i~f all articles and communications. One of the most helpful letters printed in the September number was from a Brother. The present issue contains no communications from Brothers. We realize, of course, that spiritual direction as a problem is much more keenly felt by Sisters; nevertheless, if the Brothers hav~ either sug-gestions or problems, we shall appreciate their communica-tions. It wofild be desirable to consider all aspects of the question of spiritual direction, of religious men as well as of religious women. 363 'l-low Vocal:ions row Thomas S. Bowdern, S.,J. SOME years ago, the editors of The Queen's Work sought to keep in touch with the thinking of modern Catholic youth by a series of questionnaires. During the school year 1928-1929, the questionnaire included a few questions calculated to reveal the attitude of the Cath-olic student world towards vocation to the priesthood and the religious life. The results were most interesting. They stimulated the present writer to push that part of the inves-tigation still further, but from a different angle. He chose for the subjects of his study, not students in high school and .college, but" the young people who had already chosen reli-gious vocation and were either novices and seminarians, or already young priests, Brothers, and nuns. To interview in a short time an adequately large num-ber of seminarians, young priests, and religious scattered all over the United States on the subject of their vocation, it was necessary to resort to the questionnaire method. There is much that can be said for and against, the questionnaire. And it has all been said. The writer was encouraged to think that he could construct a questionnaire that would meet the best specifications sufficiently well for his purpose. With the assistance ofp~ofessors and friends in St. Louis ~3niversity, he developed a questionnaire that seemed to be complete enough to yield satisfactory data and yet not so lengthy as to arouse prejudice. In 19.30, sample copies of a rnach-tested questionnaire with an explanatory letter and a.return postcard were sent to the superiors of 650 seminaries, novitiates, and mother-houses listed in the Official Catholic Year Book of 1928. About 160 replies were received accepting the invitation to 364 HOW VOCATIONS GRO~V cooperate and requesting packages of quest!onnaires. During 1930, .7,500 questionnaires were filled out and returned by .2,500 men and 5,000 women. Replies were received from ten major seminaries, seven preparatory seminaries, twenty-five religious orders of men and twenty of women. Of the religious orders of men, five were com-munities of Brothers. Among the women, several orders each included independent branches of the same general order. One strong objection was advanced against the validity of the data that might be received; it was thought that seminarians and novices might be tempted to say what would be calculated to please their superiors. In this case, however, there seems to have been no restraint imposed or suggested. The writer doubts that superiors exercised their rights of censorship in the matter of the vocation question-naire because several packages of returned questionnaires were received with each individual response in a sealed enve-lope Of its own. From several large groups individual questionnaires were returned individually by mail, although that meant considerable expense for postage. Most convincing of all was the utter candor of the replies. Some were almost too candid, attaching vocation stories that we~?e almost general confessions--the way Catholic young people are willing, on occasion, to write or talk to a priest. They all knew that they were writing to a priest and a religious, and, of course, their confidence has been scrupulously respected. The questionnaire had ten general divisions: 1) Family and Home Life; 2) Reading; 3) Social Life; 4) Socie-ties; 5) Schools and School Life; 6) Your Vocation; 7) Obstacles to Vocation; 8) Vocations of Companions; 9) Aids to Vocations; 10) Your Own Vocation (in story form). 365 THOMAS S. BOWDERN In this article, omitting the first five general divisions, which deal with the external circumstances of vocations, we enter a soul, if that is possible. From the inside we look out upon the world through the eyes of the boy who became a priest o~ Brother and of, the girl who became a nun. They will try to show us how they discovered Vocation coming into their lives and how they recognized it, saw it was for them and chose to embrace it. First Thought of Vocation When do Catholic boys and girls first think of a reli-gious vocation? Our survey showed that the first thought of vocation had come by the age of 10 to thirty-nine per cent of the boys and thirty-two per cent of the girls;, by the age of 14, to seventy-seven per cent of the boys and sixty-four per cent of the girls; and by the age of 20, to ninety-seven per cent 'of the boys and ninety-four per cent of the girls. From this it would appear that the thought of reli-gious vocation comes rather early to Catholic boys and girls--and earlier to the boys than to the girls. These were first thoughts; the vocational decisions were usually made much later. Three-fourths of both boys and girls questioned reported that their vocation was of slow growth without anything sudden, certainly without anything sensational, about it. Moreover, most of them considered the step for a long time before actually making it; in fact, four-fifths of those reporting stated that they spent more than two years in considering the important step. These facts should calm those who are likely to be disturbed by misgivings that.vocations are too apt to be the result of unreflecting adolescent impulse. How many Americans take that much time to think and pray before they get married--or divorced? How do boys and girls get started to thinking about a 366 HOW VOCATIONS GROW religious vocation? The leading occasion of the boys' first thought on vochtion was a .'"Talk on.Vocation." For many boys such a talk started their first thoughts toward planning their future careers. For many, tog, such a talk brought the revelation that the priesthood was a possibility for them. So high did boys place the priesthood and so far beyond their own reach that many said they were. fairly stunned the first time they learned that such a grace could be hoped for by tbem.i A close s.econd to "Talks on Vocation" was "Serving Mass" as an occasion for the first thoughts of the priesthood or the religious life. Seeing another boy like themselves and well known to them being accepted for the priesthood or the religious life was also a powerful inspiration: Nearly half of the boys who reported on this topic got their first inspiration from "Talks on Vocation," "Serving or Assisting at Mass," from the "Vocation of Another," or from a "Desire for Penance." With the girls by far the most frequent source of inspi-ration was the sight of another girl entering the convent. A strong second was the '~School Atmosphere" and a close third was the "Good Life ~f Another." These three occa-sions account for 43 per c~nt of the "first thoughts" of the girls. From this it would seem that girls are powerfully moved by example, much more so than the boys. What i's Vocation? When these young people, and some of them very young, thought about rel,,~gmus vocation, what did. they think vocation really was~ More than half answered this question; and a tabulation of results shows that most of them began with a very sound and sane idea of vocation, a bit hazy perhaps, at least in its expression, but fundamen-tally correct. However, a less correct idea--that vocation 367 THOMAS S. BOWDERN is something vague and miraculous and mysterious--was held by some 22 per cent of the boys and 19 per cent of the girls. A few failed to have any proper appreciation of vocation. They said they thought the religious life was just college life of a sort--a mistaken but pleasant notion as compared with the view that a religious vocation is just a lot of unpleasant sacrifice that some luckless wights are called upon to suffer by fate. It must be added that all these thoughts were first thoughts. All these boys and girls had ample time to learn better and more clearly the nature of a religious voca-tion. Nevertheless, our study does show that some instruc-tion is necessary. At proper intervals sermons and talks on vocation should be given to instruct the faithful, young and old. Motives The life of a priest or a religious is not all sacrifice that keeps human nature in an agony of crucifixion. It has its attractions. A rather large number of boys and girls frankly admitted that, at least at first, they were drawn to the religious life b-y" its merely natural attractions: for instance, its opportunity for a fine education, travel, adven-ture, and so forth. A vocation founded on merely natural motives would not be a true vocation at all. A person who decided his vocation on such motives alone could not per-severe, certainly could not live a worthy religious life. But then we must remember again that these young people had time and opportunity to learn better.The questionnaire showed that the motives which finally influenced their choice were much more substantial. Both boys and girls were influenced most of all by the spiritual security which a religious vocation.seemed to hold out. The boys were next attracted by the supreme privi-lege of the priest, the power to offer the sacrifice of the Ma~s, 368 How VOCATIONS (3ROW This would not influence the boys who planned to be Brothers, nor could it interest the girls; butall again agreed on the next dominant motivemthe desire of a consecrated life. By this they meant a life lived entirely for God, utterly devoted to Him, a complete giving of themselves to Him in love and service. This motive, worthy of the gredtest saints, ran high with both boys and girls. If we. are awed by this consuming love of God, this surprising spiritualintelligence and supernatural wisdom in our boys and girls, we must remember that this generation is, the fruit of early and frequent Communion. Pius X prophesied: "There will be saints among the children." The other motives hardly need special comment. And yet, it is worth noting, in a sex-mad century, when young people are overstimulated and even seduced by the environ-ment created by their elders, that love of chastity is a motive mentioned frequently by the boys and especially by the girls. This love of chastity which the love of Christ inspires in the hearts of Catholic boys and girls is accepted in a religious vocation as a life-long obligation and conse-cration. Incidentally, it might be mentioned here that this inspiring love of chastity was not a love of the"unknown." Our study showed that the candidates for the priesthood and the religious life gave the obligation of chastity seri-ous and considerable thought. The natural difficulty of a life of virginity, the heroic self-denial it demands, the sac-ritices it imposes, furnished 56 pet cent of the obstacles to vocation mentioned by the boys and 42 per cent by the girls. Sustaining Influence In addition to their own thoughts on such a "life probl.em," it seemed more than likely that there was some person whose influence had sustained or encouraged the 369 THOMAS S. BOWDERN growing determination of these boys and girls to choose a religious vocation. They were invited to report who or what was the most potent influence toward their choice. From the responses received, it would appear that mothers are more ready to encourage their sons to be priests than they are to encourage their daughters to be nuns! While the boys were most often encouraged by their mothers, the girls were most often encouraged by nuns. As a potent vocation influence among the boys, nuns rank second with fathers a very dose third. Twelfth on the boys' list was the Religious Brother; but this posi-tion should not be underestimated, as it is evident that the opportunities of the Brothers would be relatively few in comparison with the opportunities enjoyed by others. Among the girls, reading was placed second, with mothers third. A glance at the percentage shows that the girls mentioned nuns as a vocation influence more than twice as often as they mentioned their mothers. Do mothers appreciate the religious life as a vocation for their daughters? Another interesting fact that appears from this study is that fathers were rated third by the boys, but only ninth by the girls as a vocation influence. Most Helpful Reading Rea.ding ranked high as a vocation influence for the boys (fourth) and especially for the girls (second). As this was anticipated, the boys and girls were further asked to state what particular bit of reading gave the inspiration or encouragement. Biographies of saints were first by a. wide margin. A distinct second for both boys and g~rls was the Life of Christ, with the Imitation of Christ a close third. The New Testament was placed fourth by the boys who answered. If it is the Gospels that made the impres- 370 How VOCATIONS GRO~ sion, then probably this data should be combined with the report on a life of Christ because, after all, the Gospels are biographies of Christ. But even when so combined, the Life of Christ runs a slow second to the biography of a saint for both girls and .boys. Should it not be the other way? Should we not encourage rather a biography of Christ than that of a saint? Modern Xaviers? One of the classic stories of vocational influence is that of St. Ignatius Loyola saying quietly, but repeatedly, to St. Francis Xavier, :'What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" That thought finally buried itself so deeply in Xavier's heart that it changed his life and led him into the priesthood and the religious life and finally into his extraordinary and glori-ous career as a modern St. Paul. Our boys and girls were invited to report if any such thought had a similar influence on them. It seems not. Grace can work like lightning; but usually like nature, which it perfects and elevates, it works slowly, imper-ceptibly. In such circumstances, no single thought would become focused with the clearness of the thought that won Xavier to God's service. However, in one point we do seem to have a lot df Xaviers in the modern world. Xavier resisted the thought that St. Ignatius persistently pushed into his mind. He argued against it. He fought against it. But finally, this arrow of thought that was tipped with the grace 0f God pierced all the defenses of selfish human nature and won him for God. Among our boys and girls, a big majority felt that their vocation was the triumph of grace over their weakness, ignorance, sinfulness, reluctance, or lack of generosity. THOMAS S. BOWDERN That was the majority, but a very comfortable minority felt that persevering prayer had won their voca-tion for them. They had wanted a religious vocation, had feared that Go~t would pass them by or that their own unworthiness might lose this favor for them, and so they "had prayed the longer." Favorite Saints We have already seen that the inspiration of the per-sonality and example of some saint ranked high as a voca-tion influence. The boys and girls were further asked to report on their favorite saint. It is interesting to note that the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, the Little Flower, and St. Anthony are universally popular and in almost that order. St. Aloysius and St. Rita are the other saints ranked among the first ten by both boys and girls. The chief reason among the boys for the choice of the favorite saint was that the boy bore the saint's name. A close second was the attractiveness of the saint's personal-ity or virtue. The chief reason among the girls was the saint's career; the second, the saint's personality or virtue. The third reason with the girls was the fact that their favorite saint answered their prayers. Only in fourth place was the reason that the girl bore the saint's name. The fact of a saint's being a patron in Baptism weighed much more with the boys than with the girls. Favorite Devotions Learning to live with God, the art of prayer, is a most important spiritual accomplishment. We are taught its beginnings by being trained in ways and means of "raising the mind and heart to God." The Church, as a spiritual mother, is alert to make prayer as easy and attractive as possible. Unobtrusively and persuasively she suggests or 372 How VOCATIONS GROW approves many devotions or exercises of piety, designed to appeal to a great variety of tastes. Of course it is not pos-sible, and happily it is not. necessary, for each devotion to satisfy all tastes. What devotions attracted and satisfied our vocation boys and girls? For about 90 per cent of the boys and 94 per cent of the girls who answered, they were devo-tions that centered around our Lord and His Blessed Mother. It is interesting to note that the boys were almost equally divided between devotions to Jesus and devotions to Mary, whereas the girls b~r a large majority inclined to favor devotions centered around Christ. In particular, devotion to the Blessed Virgin was first with the boys; devotion to the Sacred Heart, first with the girls. About 60 per cent of the girls favored devotions centered around our Lord, about 35 per cent devotions directed toward the Blessed Virgin. Fostering Vocations One final insight into the attitude of our vocation boys and girls. Since many of them had companions who had abandoned the idea of a .religious vocation, they were invited to say what they thought could or should have been done to confirm these companions in their first choice. Only 31 per cent of the boys and 17 per cent of the girls answered this question, but those who did answer were in remarkable agreement as to their chief recommendations. All agreed that the thing most needed to prevent the loss of vocations was encouragement from older people, whether parents, pastors, Or teachers, and prayer on the part of the boys and girls themselves. Next to these two things they demanded a more vital Catholicspirit in the home itself, with good example in Catholic Faith and Catholic living given by the parents. The fourth recom- 373 THOMAS S. BOWDERN mendation of the boys was "Better Vocation Guidance" and the fifth was "Better Interpretation of the Saints." .The girls gave the same two reasons, but in reverse order: they were of the opinion that a better and more human interpretation of the saints and of sanctity itself is a.far greater need than better vocation guidance. Both boys and girls agreed on their sixth recommen, dation, namely, that there should have been more easily available "Information"--not an erudite or subtle ,expla- :nation of the.mysteries of the spiritual life or the secrets of prayer, but information, just plain, ordinary informa-tion. ,To be a priest or nun, "What do I do? . Whom should I see? . Where do I apply? . When do I start?" .These are the obvibus, practical measures that are all too easily neglected. In drawing up fi concrete program of means for fos-tering and furthering vocations, the bo~rs favored practi-cal, active, almost material measures: while the girls favored prayer, reading, and spiritual means. The boys were for publicity and propaganda, with sermons to explain arid exhort, followed up by practical information, strengthened still more by good example from priests and religious, who are then t6 promote vocation in an indi-vidual way by informal talks and private conversations. Also they are not to ldold themselves above and aloof from boys, but are to welcome intimate contact and association with them. The girls, on the other hand, advised a more qui~et and spiritual-procedure. They would encourage first of :all prayer for God's.grace land meditation on the .things .of God, with the inspiration of genuine good example from the nuns. The nuns and others should speak a seasonable word. of encour~gement, and priests., should, instruct and inspire with sermons on the nature and excellence of reli- 374 How VOCATIONS GROW gious vocation. The effect of the sermons should then be deepened and strengthened by~ a~ generous share of g~0od reading. Priests and nuns, their natural spiritual guides, should guide s6uls to find vocation more skillfully than they have done and be on the alert to spread the practical information that will take the vagueness and the ~mystery out of the necessary steps of leaving home and entering a novitiate. " The spiritual vitality of all this, said the girls, should be strengthened by frequent Communion and by retreats, the whole to rest upon the solid base of ~a really Catholic home where culture and sanctity can be breathed in with the air. It is more than ten years since this survey was made. One is apt to wonder if those vocation-subjects who out-lined such zealous programs have since done their full share in putting them into effec!! TWO CATECHISMS Catechism teachers will be glad to know (if they do not already know) that Father Aioysius J. Heeg, S J,, has prepared a Reoised dunior Edition of his little hook. desus and I. This revised edition is really two books in one. It is so designed as to incorporate not only the well-known narrative text of desus and I. but the new question-and-answer text of the First Communion Catechism prepared from the recently revised Baltimore Catechism. The book represents an attempt to give the child the best possible start in his study and tsractice of religioh. It is meant to be used in the first two grades, re-gardless of the texts to be followed later on. It is also' meant for those children beyond the second, grade who are late in starting their religions instruction. Pub-lished by the Loyola University Press, Chicago, Ill. Information on this text and on various practical helps for teachers of it may be obtained from The Queen's Work, 3742 W.Pine Blvd., St. Louis. Mo. Someone has also given us a copy of the illustrated edition~ of M~ First Com-munion Catechism, prepared by Ellamay Horan, Ph.D., Editor" of the $ournal of Religious Instruction and the Co-author of the Kingdom of God series. The text is simple: the illustrations are most attractive. Published by W. H. Sadlier, Inc., New York and Chicago. Do ~Y/e Need Direction? John E. Coogan, S.J. AFUNDAMENTAL question in any discussion of spiritual direction of religious has to do with the need of such direction. Among some religious of today there has grown up a feeling that the age of spiritual direction is passed; that it belonged to the "horse and buggy age"; that the modern religious, equipped with multiple credits and degrees, is well able to guide himself. Religious of this modern mind are inclined to look upon those who seek direction as lacking in spirit, or as "mys-tics" nby which term they mean top-lofty persons whose feet are not solidly set on the ground. Sometimes those who think thus lightly of spiritual direction are in posi-tions of authority. When their subjects fail to obtain the needed spiritual direction from their ordinary confessors and ask other means, permission is given with evident reluctance. Historians tell us that in the England of Queen Eliza-beth it becanie a government policy to make poor-reIief so humiliating that it would not be asked. Similarly, religious ¯ are'sometimes granted needed opportunities for spiritual direction so grudgingly that they prefer to be deprived rather than seek grudged permissions. Concerning such slight esteem for direction that does not chance to be at hand, one thoughtful nun has recently written: "There is a school of thought in our community which holds that since spiritual direction is not ordinarily avail- . able to religious engaged in such work as ours, it is indica-tive of presumption and singularity and entirely contrary to the spirit of 'simplicity' .which we inherit to seek it by 376 DO WE NEED DIRECTION? extrao.rdinary means. That school of thought considers itself representative of our intangible. 'Spirit,' the non-possession of which renders one anathema in this life and possibly in the next." , It is difficult to account for such easy foregoing of direction. Certainly the whole Weight of authority is against unnecessary self-direction, in every age of the Church. St. Alphonsus tells us that in his own day some religious wished to live without a director, imagining that with rules and superior they needed no other guide. But the saint continues, "They err: for along with the rules and the superior, nuns should have a confessor to direct the interior exercises, and to admonish and guide them, even in what regards their exterior employments." We need not remark that St. Alphonsus is the prince of moralists; that he here speaks of all classes of religious women, giving no least suggestion that any one is above the need of a director. And while he agrees that God will supply where guidance cannot be had, he warns us, "To refuse the. guidance of a minister of God when it can be had, is an act of temerity which the Lord will punish by permitting the soul to fall into many errors. God could guide us all by Himself, but to make us humble He wishes that we submit to His minis-ters, and depend on their direction." St. Francis de Sales, like .Alphonsus a Doctor of the Church, and a model director, complains too that "there are some persons who pretend they will not resign the con-duct of their souls to any but only to the spirit of God." They err, Francis declares, since "the manner by which God guides us is only that of obedience. If you take not that road, there is nothing but error and wandering." St. Philip Neri used to say that "there is nothing more dangerous than to direct one's own conscience." St. John of the Cross declares that "not to submit to the judgment 377 JOHN E. COOGAN of a confessor is pride and want of faith"; and he solemnly adds, "They who obey. a spiritual father cannot err." St. Bernard urged the need of a director upon learned as well as ignorant, declaring that he himself stood in need of a director; that in fact, "He who guides himself has a fool for a disciple." The same emphasis upon direction as needed even by the learned we have from the sainted Dominican, Vincent Ferret: "He who has an adviser whom he absolutely obeys in all things, will succeed much more easily and quickly than he could if left to himself, even if. endowed with quick intellect and possessed° of learned books." The need of even the virtuous for a director is the teaching, too, of the spiritual writers of today. For example, Father Henry Davis, S.J., the English professor of Moral and Pastoral Theology, tells us simply that "A confessor who hears the confessions of very devout people has a duty of directing them to spiritual perfection." And Father W. E. Mulroney, S.S.J., says, "The confessor must tactfully let it be known that he is more than an absolution machine; that he intends to be helpful as a director." Monsignor Kerby, late editor of The Ecclesiastica! Review, urged the need of direction even for priests, telling us that "Spiritual direction should never be separated from confession . . . Among the major joys of life for a priest may be named the consciousness that there is one human being in the world to whom entire confidence is given, one whose knowledge is complete and who knows in fullest degree the weakness and the strength, the triumphs, defeats, aspirations and sufferings of the penitent's life. A confessor whose spiritual direction is a source of strength to his clerical penitent, becomes to him almost a deputy conscience, a source of wisdom and comfort at all times." (Cf. "The Priest as Penitent and Confessor,". in 378 DO ~rE NEED DIRECTION? The Ecclesiastical Review for November, 1935.) The moral teachings of the Church come to us indi-rectly through approved spiritual writers. But regarding the need of a director, Mother'Church frequently speaks for herself. To cite only two declarations, the first being from the Council of Baltimore: "Let the priest who goes to hear confessions seriously ponder over these offices of judge, shepherd, physician, and father, and endeavor, as far as in him lies, to fulfill them in deed and work." Finally, and of even greater importance, our Holy Father, Leo XIII, in his encyclical against a heretical spirit of false indepen-dence and naturalism, against the whole Protestant spirit hostile to direction, a spirit ominously called in the encycli-cal, "Americanism," warns us that "God in his ~infinite Providence has decreed that men for the most part must be saved by men, 'in order that,' as Chysostom says, 'we should be taught by God through men.' . . . This manner of acting has invariably obtained in the Church. All without exception who in the course of ages have been remarkable for science and holiness have taught this doc-rine. Those who reject it assuredly do so rashly and at their peril." To this unanimous testimony of the learned and holy regarding the need of a director, we may add a few con-siderations from reason. Father Poulain, S.J., the author-ity on pra3?er, here remarks that the confessor "has devoted himself to theological and sometimes to ascetic studies, which his penitent usually has not done." And even should the penitent be more thoroughly v~rsed in these sciences than the confessor, still "God blesses obedience and the humility from which it proceeds." A director enables the penitent, adds Poulain, to profit by the common lesson of experience that "even in temporal affairs it is prudent not to trust to our own guidance." To the contention that 379 JOHN E. COOGAN he who declines human direction has a director in.God, he rejoins: "By a similar principle it might be proved that God usually compensates for the absence of missionaries among the heathen, and that it is therefore unnecessary to concern ourselves as to their conversion.''1 St. Francis de Sales, too, argues the need of a director from the fact that we cannot see ourselves as we are, bin-dered as we are by a certain veiled, unsuspected compla-cency; and he demands, "Why should we wish to consti-tute ourselves directors of our own souls when we do not undertake the management of our bodies? Have we not noticed that physicians, when ill, call other physicians to determine what remedies they require?" A further argument from reason for the need of a direc- ¯ tor may be drawn from the fact that few can do their best altogether unobserved. There is an ancient proverb that ~hestrongest urge in all human nature is "to sit down." There are few things in the natural order so powerful in drawing out the best that is in us as the interested gaze of a pair of friendly eyes. No racer long maintains a ~elling pace, no high jumper lifts himself to heights untouched, without a witness to his efforts. And, speaking now of women, the great Mother Stuart gives as one of their most subtle but damaging faults their "emotional current which is satisfied with feeling acutely, and stops short of trans-lating generous emotion into act"; their "wide-spread shrinking from responsibility and mental effort, the tend-ency to drift"; so that, as she sums it all up, "Someone who will make us do what we can is our chief want in life." We can with slight modification apply to all religious what the zealous Josephite, Father W. E, Mulroney, says 1Of. Chapter xxvi of The Graces of Interior Prayer (London, Kegan Paul, 1928). Poulain is speaking primarily, but not exclusively, of mystics. In the Preface he says explicitly that a director is needed for all spiritual questions. 380 Do WE NEED DIRECTION.;' of the nuns' need of a .director: "A little thought on the subject of Sisters' confessors will bring the realization to every priest that in this case the hearing of confessions involves also direction--that is, if the confessor desires to be truly helpful. The mere recital of slight imperfections which constitutes the average confession of Religious Sis-ters, followed by absolution, without any direction or stimulation towards higher endeavor, usually leaves the Sisters with no incentive for perfection. Their medita-tion and spiritual reading lack that personal element so necessary in most cases for advancement. We are human, and human nature usually needs the impact of human na-ture to excite progress. To know that someone knows us, to know.that someone expects us to advance, seems for the average person a necessary condition for progress in spir-itual things.''2 With the Oratorian, Father Frederick Faber, we must say: "It is certainly to take a yoke upon ourselves to have a director. But unless we are prepared for it, it is really useless, not unfrequently worse than useless, to attempt a spiritual or interior life. We may possibly be safe without a director, if we choose to sit down in the dust and ashes of low attainment; but not otherwise." In view of such weighty insistence upon the need of spiritual direction, is the religious to be thought presump-tuous and singular who makes measured use even of extra-ordinary means? Surely the ordinary confessor is the pre-ferred source of direction, other things being equal. But rather than go without interested and adequate direction, is a religious not rather to be commended for making such measured use of even the extraordinary confessional aids offered by Canon Law and the Religious Rule? 2For this and other references to Father MulroneF, confer "Confessors of Sisters," in The Homiletic and Pastoral Reaieu~ for May, 1929. 381 Plenary Indulgences t:or !:he Souls in Purga!:ory Thomas A. O'Connor, s.J. ~REQUENTLY we are reminded of the suffering souls in Purgatory. Time and time again we resolve to do all we can to aid them by our prayers and. by the gaining of Indulgences. This year there come to mind not only the sixty-eight who were said to die every minute throughout the world, but also the soldiers, sailor~, and fliers of every country: soldiers, falling machine-gunned in a rain of steel'; fliers, hurtling through space, their planes afire; sailors, blown to bits by torpedo explosions, or trapped in sinking ships. War means death. Death means Purgatory. Purga-tory means souls suffering the temporal punishme.nt due to their sins. If the doctor in the first-aid station and the nurse in tile base hospital, heroically working to ease the pain of the wounded or to save the lives of bullet-torn, powder-burned bodies, deservedly win our admiration; cannot we emulate their valorous service by our own efforts to help the Holy Souls who look to us from their beds of pain, and longingly yearn for the hour when they will enter into the eternal rest? Since a plenary indulgence remits.all the temporal pun-ishment due to sin, obviously plenary indulgences will most help the Souls in Purgatory. A religious in the performance of his daily spiritual duties is,in aposition to help the Holy Souls as no one,else can.~ A large number of)ndulgences-Tple~ary indulgences ---can be gained by a religious Without assuming any addi-tional practices or the recitation of burdensome prayers,. 382 PLENARY INDULGENCES Perhaps the only .condition necessary will be the saying of prayers for the intentibn of the Holy Father at each of one's regular visits to the Blessed Sacrament. Of course, prudence and moderation should always mark the practice of gaining indulgences; If sanctity is "sublimated common sense," then in this, too, common sense will be a-safeguide. The indulgences spoken of here, with few exceptions, can be gained by all C.atholics, not only by religious and cIerics. To Gain an Indulgence 1. One must be in the state of grace to gain anindul-gence. The reason is that indulgences remit the temporal punishment only of those sins whose guilt has been for-given. To gain a plenary indulgence there is required also a detestation of all venial sin, since otherwise the temporal punishment of those unforgiven venial sins would remain Untouched by the indulgence. Hence can be seen the value of an act of contrition for all venial sins before performing the prescribed prayers to which is attached a plenary indul-gence. If one does not gain a plenary indulgence, he can gain a partial indulgence according to the disposition which he has. 2. A general intention of gaining indulgences must be had. That intention suffices which is once made and not sub-sequently retracted. A good practice is to renew one's intention occasionally, even daily, to gain all the indul-gences one can. 3. The conditions prescribed for the indulgences must be fulfilled. The prescribed prayers must be recited orall~t; that is, no~ necessarily out loud, but by forming the words with 383 THOMAS A. O'CONNOR the lips. One may, however, gain the indulgence attached to the saying of an aspiration by reciting it mentally and not orally. 4. Plenary/ indulgences are generally granted "'under the usual conditions.'" "'Under the Usual Conditions'" These "usual conditions" are Confession,-Communion, Visit to a Church, and Prayers for the intention of the H61y Father. A. CONFESSION: This condition is fulfilled for the gaining of ordinary plenary indulgences: a) either by those who have the habit of confessing twice a month unless legitimately impeded; or b) by those who have the habit of receiving Holy Com-munion daily (5 or 6 times a week). For others the con-fession may be made on any of the eight days preceding the day on which the indulgence is to be gained, or on any of the seven days fo!lowing. (Note: One Confession suffices for the gaining of all plenary indulgences during that time.) B. COMMUNION: Holy Communion may be received on the day previous, on the day of the indulgence itself, Or within one week. (Note: One Holy Communion suffices for all indulgences which may be gained during that time.) C. VISIT TO A. CHURCH: -The visit may be made to any church or public ora-tory, unless one special church has been designated. For religious, any chapel in which they fulfill their obligation of hearing Mass suffices. (Note:"Unlike the conditions of Confession and Communion, the visit, when required for plenary indul-gences, must be repeated for each indulgence gained.) 384 PLENARY INDULGENCES D. PRAYERS FOR THE INTENTION OF THE HOLY FATHER : 1. One Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory will fulfill this condition. Any other equivalent prayer may be sub-stituted. (Note: But when toties quoties indulgences are granted for visits to a church, th~ Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory must be said six times; and no other prayers may be substituted.) 2. The prayers must be said orally. 3. These prayers for the Holy Father must be repeated for the gaining of each plenary indulgence that requires this condition. Some Easilg-gained Indulgences For convenient reference, we are giving here a list of plenarq indulgences, most of which can be easily gained by religious. The "usual conditions" are required, unless otherwise specified. We do not guarantee that this list is complete. The numbers given in parentheses after eacl~ indulgence refer to the authentic collection of indulgenced prayers and works published by the Vatican Press in 1938: Preces et Pia Opera. The list is divided into four groups: I. Several Times a Da~t: A plenary indulgence may be gained everg time the following works are performed or prayers said: 1. "'Toties Quoties'" indulgences, e.g. on All Souls' Day. (544) At each visit one must say the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory, six times for the intention of the Pope. 2. Stations of the Cross: (164) All tha, t is required is that one with contrite heart move from station to station ('unless said in a group pub-licly), and meditate on the Passion. No visit or other prayers are required. 3. RosaGI in Presence of Blessed Sacrament: (360) 385 THOMAS A. O'CONNOR Five decades suffice for the gaining of the indul-gence. The Blessed Sacrament need not be exposed. No other prayers are required. II. Once a Dag: 1. Prayer Before a Crucitix, "En Ego . ." (171) No special visit is required. 2. Stations on a Communion Da~/. (164) This indulgence is over and above the plenary indul-gences for the Stations themselves. No visit or other prayers are required. 3. Prayer to CHRIST THE UNIVERSAL KING. (254) "O Christ Jesus, I acknowledge Thee King of the Universe. All that has been created has been made for Thee. Exercise upon me all Thy rights. I renew my baptismal promises renouncing Satan and all his works and pomps. I promise to live a good Christian life and to do all in my power to procure the triumph of the rights of God and Thy Church. Divine Heart of Jesus, I offer Thee my poor actions in order to obtain that all hearts may acknowledge Thy Sacred Royalty and that thus the reign of Thy peace may be established through-out the universe. Amen." 4. Holg Hour. (139) No other visit is required. -. 5. Recitation of the Divine Office before the Bles-sed Sacrament. (674, 678, 697) No other visit is required. This indulgence is for clerics, religious women bound to recite the Divine Office, and novices and scholastics of all religious institutes of men. 6. Each Communion Da~/ for those who have made the Heroic Act. (547) III. Once a Week: 1. Each Monday/by those who have made the Heroic Act, if Mass be heard for the Poor Souls. (547) 386 DLENARY INDULGENCES 2. A Dait~l Visit at which 5 Our Fathers, Hail Marys, and Glorys are said in honor of the Blessed Sacrament, and I Our Father,Hail Mary, and Glory for the intention of the Pope. (121) IN. B. This indulgence can be gained by those who because of sickness or for some other good reason cannot visit the Blessed Sacrament, provided they make a spiritual visit and.say the prayers above mentiofied. (122)] 3. The Aspiration "'M~t Lord and M~t God" if said every day during the elevation or during Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. (107) Prayers for the Holy Father are required, but no visit is necessary. IV. Once a Month: We give here a partial list of prayers and aspirations to each of which is attached a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions, provided the prayer be said daily for a month. A. Pra~ters 1. The Angelus ("Regina Coeli" at Easter time). (300) 2. "'Soul of Christ, sanctffg me" etc. (105) 3. "0 Lord, I am not worthg'" etc. (three times) (129) 4. "'Angel of God, mg Guardian dear" etc. (415) 5. "'Laudate Dominum, omnes gentes'" etc. (25) 6. "'Out of the depths I crg unto Thee" etc. (539) (N.B. Or 1 Our Father, Hail Mary, with "Eternal rest grant unto them~ O Lord," etc.) 7. Litang of Loretto (ending with the prayer "Con-cede"). (290) 8. Litan~t of the Sacred Heart. (213) 9. Litan~t of the Saints. (640) 10. "'Remember, 0 most gracious Virgin Marg,'" etc. (309) 11. "'Hail, Holtl Queen, Mother of merc!t,'" etc. (301) 387 THOMAS A, O'CONNOR 12. "'We fig to thai protection, 0 hol~! Mother of God,'" etc. (302) 13. Mental prager daily for fifteen minutes. (641) 14. Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. (289) 15. Little Office of the Immaculate Conception. (328) 16. St. Thomas Aquinas' Pra~ler dfter Communion "Gra-tias tibi ago," etc. (132) 17. Spiritual Communion. (135) 18. St. Ignat.ius' Suscipe "Take and receive, O Lord." etc. (39) 19. Each First Fridag for those who receive Holy Com-munion and a) Are present at the public prayers said in honor of the Sacred Heart; (N.B. No other visit is required). b) or if prevented from attending the public exercises, they. recite privately prayers in reparation to the-Sacred Heart, visit a church and pray for the intention of the Holy Father. (220) B. Aspirations 1. "0 Crux, ave, spes unica." (157) 2. "(]or Jesu, flagrans amore nostri, inflamma cot nos-trum amore tui." (194) 3. "Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine." (196) 4. "O sweetest Heart of Jesus, I implore, grant that I may love Thee ever more and more." (193) 5. "Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us." (211) 6. "O Heart of Jesus, I put my trust in Thee." (195) 7. "Jesus, Mary, Joseph." (256) 8. "My Jesus, mercy~" (55) 9. "Mary." (268) 388 PLENARY INDULGENCES 10. "O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to three." (325) 11. "Sweet Heart of Mary, be my salvation." (352) Conclusion A religious is in an excellent position to gain many plenary indulgences, and to apply them to the Souls in Purgatory. For example, everyone who is a daily com-municant can gain 8oe plenary indulgences each day by the following comparatively simple practices: a) Say the Stations. By doing this one can gain two plenary indul-gences, one for the Stations themselves, the other for saying them on a Communion day. b) Say 5 decades of the Rosary before the Blessed Sacrament. c) Before leaving the chapel after Mass, say the Pra~ler Before a CruciSx and add the prayers for the intention of the Pope. d) At another visit during the day, say the prayer to Christ, the Ur~ioersal Kir~g and add prayers for th.e inten-tion of the Holy Father. These practices not only involve little or no extra burden for most religious; they are also devotions that can be a great help toward maintaining a fervent spiritual life. Needless to say, many other ways of multiplying plenary indulgences can be calculated from the lists that have been given. This can be left to individual devotion. One cau-tion might be in order: namely, the gaining of indulgences should not be allowed to become a sort of obsession that ruins one's peace of soul. However, granted that one is able to preserve a wholesome mental attitude, .this parting suggestion may prove helpful: Form the habit of saying 1 Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the intention of the Pope at each visit to the Blessed Sacrament. Other-wise many indulgences may be lost because of the omission of the prescribed visit and prayers. 389 Sanctifying Gracer A Priceless Re~li~:y Leo. A. Coressel, S.J. THE present-day Liturgical Movement has as its slogan: "It is the Mass that Matters." And rightly so, be-cause the Mass is the most sublime of all acts of cor-porate worship. But if one looks to the internal disposi-tions of the soul and to its right relationship with God, it is sanctifying grace that matters. For without grace the soul is in a state of enmity with God and spiritually dead. Sanc-tifying grace is so important that its presence or absence at the moment of death spells the difference between success and failure of life. Sanctity and perfection, moreover, are measured not only by the habits and acts of virtue but also in terms of sanctifying grace. The greater the measure of sanctifying grace in a person's soul, the holier and the more perfect he is. Sanctifying grace is a priceless treasure; yet to under-stand and appreciate its reality is admittedly a difficult task. In the first place, we are prone to think of the soul in the state of grace in terms of freedom from mortal sin. This perhaps is due to the elementary catechetical training of childhood, when the great mysteries of faith were proposed in a manner befitting our abilities. We were then impressed with the idea that in Baptism the soul is washed free from sin, that in the sacrament of Penance we are cleansed by the blood of Christ. Less prominent in our minds has been the idea of the realness of this great grace. Then, too, as is the case with other truths of our faith, we have no immediate experience of sanctifying grace. We do not see it, we do not smell its fragrance. Nor do we even understand it 390 SANCTIFYING GRACE fully. With or without sanctifying grace our personalities, actions, and thoughts are apparently the same. Despite the~e difficulties a study of sanctifying grace is well. worth our while, because of the place it holds in the economy of salvation. Take, for example, the redemptive work of the Savior. A major elemen[ of its meaning is lost, if we forget that it was to restore sanctifying grace to fallen man that Jesus Christ was born into this world; that He lived, suffered and gave His life on the cross. King by divine right, He was born in a stable that He might clothe us in the divine royalty of grace. For thirty years He led a life hidden at Nazareth that we might find glory before God by means of His grace. His pierced hands and feet and side on the cross are so many voices suppliant of sanctifying grace. To make men sharers of His grace, Christ established a Church and instituted seven sacra-ments. Furthermore, the actual graces, which are con-tinually poured out on man in divine munificence, have as their chief purpose to prepare and dispose the soul for sanc-tifying grace, to effect an, increase of it, to preserve it and bring men finally to their ultimate goal and perfection-- life with God in eternity. God's Greatest Work If we.wish to attain to a better realization and appre-ciation of sanctifying grace, we shall do well to follow a child to the baptismal font or a penitent in mortal~ sin to confession. When water is poured and the words are said or when sacramental absolution is given, a truly wonderful change takes place. If our eyes of faith were illumined with an innermost vision of the mysteries of God, we should be privileged to see a work which, under one aspect, St. Thom-as calls greater than the creation of heaven and earth. In answer to the question whether the justification of the 391 ungodly is God's greatest work, the Angelic Doctor says in part: "A work may be called great in two ways: first, on the part of the mode bf action,, and thus the work.of crea-tion is the greatest work, wherein something is made from nothing; secondly, a work may be called great on account of what is made, and thus the justification of the ungodly, which terminates at the eternal good of a share in the God-head, is greater than the creation of heaven and earth, which terminates at the good of mutable nature.''1 We may think of all the treasures of earth; the gold and silver extracted from its depths in Alaska, California, and Colorado; the oil pumped in Oklahoma and Texas; the diamonds mined in Africa: the pitchblende so rich in radium, in Canada. We consider the vast coal deposits and veins of iron and copper, not only in the United States, but in the whole world. Raising our eyes to the heavens, we see the sun, the moon, Mars, ~lupiter, Saturn, the~ Milky Way, and we peer at the stars beyond, stretching countless light years into. space. All these owe their existence in some way to God's creative ~iat. Yet these and all other bodies of mutable nature are of less importance, of less value than sanctifying grace by which the ungodly are justified. That this tremendous value is often not appreciated is shown by the fact that many are only too willing to barter this treas-ure for a small sum of money, for a passing pleasure, to satisfy a vain ambition, or to become more popular in their own little circle of friends. Holding the middle place between the angelic world and brute matter is man, composed of body and soul. Coming from the hands of God graced with intellect and will, he is superior to the rest of the visible world, inferior in nature only to the angels and God Himself. His natural 1Summa Theological 1, 2, q. 1 13, a. 9. Literally translated by Fathers of the Eng-lish Dominican Province. 392 SANCTIFYING GRACE powers of intellect have carried him to the heights and erected monuments as memorials of his genius. In the universities and towns and countryside he has philoso-phized and sought to .unlock the secrets of nature. But. however greatman's natural intellectual gifts, they are of less value than the sanctifying grace in the soul of a newly baptized infant. In the course of centuries the world has witnessed the greatness of character and soul of hero and saint, canon-ized and uncanonized, of lay person and cleric, of a Lin-coln, a Magdalene, a St. Francis of Assisi, a Xavier, a Plus XI. Yet all their n~tural greatness is as nothing compared to the sanctifying grace in the soul of a repentant criminal led to the electric chair or of an unkempt half-wit shuffling along the streets. It is clear, then, that some magnificent reality is pro-duced in the soul when sacramental absolution is given to a person in mortal sin. Grace is a reality in the fullest sense of the ~ord and in the same sense that man, a rose, or God Himself is real. It has physical being; it is a permanent thing that w~ll last until destroyed by mortal sin. It is spiritual like the human soul; not material like the body and other visible things. Sharing the Dioine Nature That sanctifying grace is a reality and a priceless one there can be no doubt. We can perhaps improve our under-standing of it bya consideration of the effects it works in the soul. Among many others, there are two effects which are outstanding, namely, that of sharing the divine nature and that of adopted sonship. It is necessary to restate here certain truths which but recently apeared in this REVIEW. The issue of September, 1942, contains an article on the supernatural life in which 393 LEO A. CORESSEL Father G. Augustine Ellard gives a .rich and inspiring treatment of our sha~e in the life of God. Yet we believe that a brief return to this same topic is warranted by its sublimity as well as by the purpose and setting of this article. In his second epistle St. Peter tells us of our share in the divine nature: "For indeed his divine power has granted us all things pertaining to life and piety through the knowl-edge of him who has called us by his own glory and power mthrough which he has granted us the very great and pre-cious promises, so that through them you may become par-takers of the divine nature, having escaped from the cor-ruption of that lust which is the world" (2 Peter 1:1-5). In weighing the words of St. Peter we must not think of the divine nature within us as the gold plate of a statue hiding the dross of baser metals beneath. The truth of the matter is that we are internally changed by it. Just as the life principle of an orchid gives color and texture and shape to common chemical ingredients making of them an orchid, so in somewhat the same manner, sanctifying grace, which is a principle of divine life, deifies us mortals, making us godlike. The Fathers of the Church insist on this point of deifi-cation. St. Athanasius remarks: "He (Christ) was not, therefore, first man and then God, but first God and then man in order that He might rather deify us." St. Augus-tine describes the process of deification as follows: "He jus-tifies who is just of Himself, not from another; and He deifies who is God of Himself, not by participation in an-other. But He who. justifies, also deifies, because He makes men sons of God through justification." From St. Cyril of Alexandria we have words too pertinent to omit. Christ, he says, is fashioned in us when the Holy Spirit infuses a certain divine form by sanctification and justice. For thus 394 SANCTIFYING GRACE there shines forth in our souls the impress of the substance of God as the Holy Spirit moulds us anew by sanctification in Him. From these testimonies it is dear that God gives a share of His nature to raise men up to be like unto Himself. He does this by means of sanctifying.grace. This grace is regenerative, effecting that men are reborn, not of flesh and blood, but of God. As a result they share His nature just as any child shares the nature of his parents. "But when the goodness and kindness of God our Savior appeared, then not by reason of good works that we did ourselves, but according to his mercy, he saved us througFi the bath of regeneration and renewal by the Holy Spirit; whom he has abun. dantly poured out upon us through ,Jesus Christ our Savior, in order that, justified by his grace, we may be heirs in the hope of life everlasting" (Titus 3:4-7). "To as many as received him, he gave the power of becoming sons of God: to those who believe in his name: who were born not of blood, not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God" (~lohn 1:12-13). Deified by grace, man is disposed to lead a godlike life. His person and actions are poles apart from those of a man in mortal sin. He is a new creature, created in Christ ~lesus. He is godlike in person, endowed with a principle of divine actions, actions which bear an intrinsic relation to his su-pernatural destiny. There remains the question of the manner in which we share the divine nature. We are deified, it is true; but in what sense? We are made godlike; but what precisely is sanctifying grace which effects these marvels? We know the nature of the soul which moulds matter in the form of man. What rhea of sanctifying grace which deifies us? Here we are face to face with a mystery, the ultimate under-standing and vision of which we must leave to eternity. 395 But the main outlines are quite clear and these we shall be content to sketch here. The divine nature of sanctifying grace certainly does not imply identity with the uncreated divinity itself. About this there can be no argument, for to hold such an opinion would make one guilty of Pantheism, which is ruled out even on grounds of right reason. Rather, our deification is effected by a created gift, which we know as sanctifying grace. By reason of this gift we begin to share, in a dim and imperfect way, the life to which it ordains and disposes us. This is nothing less than a share in the inner life of God as He is in Himself, a share in that knowledge and love and possession common to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit which is proper and natural to them alone. It is a share in that which is divine, a face to face vision, love, and pos-session of the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity. On this earth our share is as a seed, the seed of God, as writes St. John: "Whoever is born of God does not commit sin; because his seed.abides in him and he cannot sin, because he is born of God" (I John 3:9). It should be noted that these words do not mean that a person in the state of grace cannot commit grave sin. Rather they are to be taken in the sense that sanctifying grace will remain as long as man does not make himself unworthy of it by mortal sin. Indeed, as long as one lives up to the ideals set before him by grace, it can be said in a true sense that he. will not and cannot sin. What is quite clear from the words of St. John is that the seed of God is planted in souls. It is left to their ten-der care, to be nourished, to be guarded, to be protected from the blight of mortal sin. By spiritual efforts that seed can be made to grow to the full stature of its inherent potentiality. Just as favorable conditions of sun, air, and soil will cause the acorn to grow to the full grandeur of an 396 SANCTIFYING ('~RACE oak, so this divine nature of sanctifying grace, carefully guarded and nurtured unto God's judgment seat, will win for the soul its fullest flowering and fruit in the possession of God as He is in Himself in the beatific vision. In a word, divine life is already had on this earth, although imperfectly. There is sanctifying grace, a new nature, a share in the divine nature and a principle of divin~ life. Corresponding-to that principle is a knowl-edge of God by divine faith, a desire of attaining Him in eternal life by hope, and a love of friendship. In heaven faith will yield to vision, hope to possession, while love will be intensified a thousandfold. Thus the. soul enjoy-ing the beatific vision shares the divine life of God in the most perfect way conceivable, which only God could plan and bring to execution. Adopted Sonship Another effect of sanctifying grace which powerfully portrays its reality is adopted sonship. A consideration of it will bring out at the same time in still clearer relief, our participation in the life of the divine society of God. Adoption is the installation of an outsider as a son with the right of inheritance. That God does adopt the just soul as His own son is clear from the words of St. Paul to the Galatians: "But when the fullness of time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, that he might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father. So that he is no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, an heir also through God" (Galatians 4:4-7). Consider fora moment, ari example of human adop-tion. Mr. and Mrs. Johns, either because they have no 397 LEO A. CORESSEL ¯ children of their own, or out a burning desire for an-other baby in the home, decide to adopt James, an orphan six months old. After the due formalities of investiga-tion and law have been fulfilled, James is taken home and installed as a son. Yet there is a world of difference between this case of human adoption and that of God in which the just are made His sons. In human adoption there is no question of an inner change in the infant; it is no more than a mere external legal transaction. James does not become the real son of his foster parents; they only consider him so. But when God adopts us He communicates a new nature, a share of His own, whereby we are deified. We are internally changed for we are born of God and become His sons in a real sense. Now we have God as our Father so that we can say in very truth: Our Father who art in heaven. As adopted sons we take our stand with Jesus Christ the Only-begotten Son. A Son by true eternal generation, the Second Person is such by nature. Born of God by the regenerating powers of grace, we are sons by adoption. "But if we are sons, we are heirs also: heirs indeed of God and joint heirs with Christ, provided, however, we suffer with him that we may also be glorified with him" (Romans 8:17). This inheritance is that crown of ¯ glory which God has prepared for those who love Him. For it is the eternal incorporation into the divine family of the Three Persons in the beatific vision, where the redemptive work of the Savior reaches the peak of final, definitive perfection. From a consideration of these dynamic truths two very practical conclusions stand out. First and foremost is a sense of righteous personal dignity as adopted sons who are sharers in the divine nature. It is a sense of dignity that should inspire us to a filial relationship with God, too busy 398 SANCTIFYING GRACE as sons about the things of our Father to be engrossed in creatures for their own sakes. It should inspire us to see others as actual~or potential members of the same divine family. The second conclusion is a very high regard for and appreciation of the reality and true value of sanctifying grace. If what has been said is true, then with just rea-son could St. Thomas write that, considered in the light of the effect produced, the justification of a sinner which terminates at the eternal good of a share in the Godhead is greater than the creation of heaven and earth, which terminates at the good of mutable nature. Think, then, in what a work we are already cooperating with God when we effect an increase of sanctifying grace in our own souls, an increase as it is of divine nature, making us more godlike. Think, too, of our work with our fellow-men, our good example in inspiring souls to repent of their sins and enter into the light of divine grace, our prayers and works for sinners and infidels and heretics, our apostolic duties of teaching, counselling and advis-ing. They all play their share, small though they may be, in restoring and increasing the kingdom of Christ, the kingdom of light and life .and grace, in our own souls and in those of our fellowmen. FRANCIS DE SALES AND THE LITTLE OFFICE An article in the January n'umber of this REVIEW (p. 58) carried the statement that St. Francis de Sales gave his Sisterhood the Little Of?ice of the Blessed Virqit~ because the Divine office was then under censure by French Bishops. Father L. 3ac-quiet00. S.F.S., objects to this statement--and rightly so, because St. Francis's own testimony is against it. According to Father Jacquier, the reasons given by St. Francis may be summed up as follows: 1) The difficulty of reciting the Great Office with the proper pro-nunciation. 2) It is better to recite a short office slowly and with great piety than to slaughter the Great Office ina hasty and unintelligible way. 3) In the Visitation Order are received feeble and sick persons who would find extraordinary difficulty with the Great Office. , 399 Pert:ection I:he Religious Augustine Klaas, S.J. ACATHOLIC who strives steadfastly to do as much supernatural good as he can in the particular circum-stances in which God has placed him has attained to spiritual perfection. In his daily life, such a one practises many virtues, above all, the virtue of charity, which, when possessed through sanctifying grace and exercised to the utmost, is the quintessence of perfection. The more this love of God increases in his soul; the more it permeates his every thought, word and deed; the greater will be his per-fection arid the more closely will he be united to God both here on earth and hereafter in heaven. Spiritual perfection, then, is gaged principally by one's affective and effective love of God for Himself and of all else for His sake. It includes both the precepts and the counsels. It has as its sublime Exemplar, Jesus Christ Himself. V. The Religi'ous State, the "'State of Perfection" Spiritual perfection may be achieved in any state of life. There is, however, one state of life in which perfection can be attained to more readily and easily, because there the ,means to it are more abundant and efficacious: the religious state. In this state one normally tries for perfection more earnestly and reaches it more frequently. So true is this that theologians have not hesitated to call the religious state the "state of perfection," that is, a stable manner of life in which one makes profession of pursuing perfection. This 1This is the last of a series of three articles on Perfection. Though a part of a series, the article is complete in itself.--Ed. 400 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS pursuit of perfection, however, is r~ot carried on in any manner at all, but in a certain definite way, namely, by observing the evangelical counsels, which can be reduced to the three main ones, poverty, chastity and obedience. The practice of these three counsels as a means to per-fection was substantially recommended by our Lord Him-self. When the rich young man said, "All these (com-mandments) I have kept: what is yet wanting to me?", Christ answered: "If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treas-ure in heaven; and c6me, follow me" (Matthew 19:20- 22). A little later He declared to his disciples: "And every one who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father or mother, or wif~i or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlast-ing" (Matthew 19:29). In these two texts are clearly pointed out the counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence: poverty, in selling "what thou hast"; chastity, in foregoing wife and children: obedience, in following Him in all things. The history of those who have heeded this divine call is a glorious one; it is an integral part of that mark of holiness which distinguishes the true Church of Christ from its many counterfeits. It must be admitted that these counsels can be, and sometimes are, practiced outside the technical "state of per-fection." What makes the religious life a real "state of perfection" is the ~ows by which the religious obligates himself to observe the three evangelical counsels. It is these vows which give to the religious life that stability without which there can be no state of perfection. Canon law expresses this doctrine succinctly when it describes the reli-gious state as "the firmly established manner of living in community, by which the faithful undertake to observe, not only the ordinary precepts, but also the evangelical 401 AUGUSTINE KLAAS counsels, by means of the vows of obedience, chastity and poverty, . . " (Canon 487). Hence, according to Canon Law, a religious institute is "every society: approved by !egitimate ecclesiastical authority, the members of which tend to evangelical perfection, according to. the laws proper to their society, by the profession of public vows ¯ . . " (Canon 488). Public vows are of the essence of the religious state. There is no obligation to enter upQn this state of life. It is utterly free. Christ said: "If thou wilt be perfect." It is a counsel, not a precept. I may take it or leave it, even when there is the dearest evidence that God has given me a vocation. Contrary to what is sometimes heard on this point, I can save my soul and .even attain to perfection, although I do not follow the higher call. True, there is a precept to love God to the utmost and upon doing that depends mainly my perfection, but there is no precept to vow the following of the three evai~gelical counsels as a particular means to attain to the perfect love of God. The way of the three counsels and vows is doubtless the best means of all for that purpose, but it is not an indispensable means. There are saints who have reached the highest sanctity outside the religious state, outside the "state of perfection." It may even happen that a person living in the world may be far more perfect than a religious in the "state of perfection," because the norm of perfection is not one's state of life, but charit~t. However, it cannot be denied that perfection outside the religious life is ordinarily more difficult to achieve; hence it is an extremely hazardous thing to refuse to answer the dear call of Christ to the reli-gious state. It is the religious who has the best chance of loving God to the utmost,, because he has freely adopted the best means to that end, namely, the persevering practice of the three counsels under vow. 402 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS VI. The Religious State and Cbarit!t What is the relation of the religious vows and rules to charity, the essence of perfection? Saint Thomas answers in the Summa Theologica (II-II, q. 186, a. 7) that "the vow of religion is ordained to the perfection of love as its purpose, and all the other observances of religion are ordained to the carrying out of the vows." The vows and rules are, therefore, means to the perfect love of God. Something done under vow is more perfect than a simi- 1;it thing done without the vow, all other things being equal. Let us suppose two teachers employed in a high school: the one, Father Spencer, is a religious; the other, Mr. Jones, is agood Catholic layman. Father Spencer and Mr. Jones teach their classes daily in obedience to the presi-dent of the high school, who is also Father Spencer's religious superior. Father Spencer has the same merit for the exercise of his virtue of obedience as Mr. Jones has, but in addition he has also the merit 6f the virtue of religion, the most excellent of the moral virtues. By reason of his vow, his act of obedience is more pleasing to God and manifests greater love of God than does that of Mr. Jones. The fact that Father Spencer is under the obligation of his vow to obey, does in no way diminish the merit of his act of obedience. Obligation does not decrease merit, as some have tried to maintain, alleging that without the vow there is greater liberty and from that standpoint greater merit. This is not so. Does a mother caring for her sick child (a serious obligation for her) merit less than when she gives a beggar an alms to which she is not obliged? She is free to omit the second, but not free to omit the first. This comparative lack of freedom in no wise lowers her merit. The martyr is obligated under pain of mortal sin and eternal damna-tion to profess his faith and to die for it, and yet there is 403 AUGUSTIN~ KLAAS no more heroic act of love nor a more meritorious one than martyrdom. Nor does what is done under obligation necessarily proceed from fear; it can and should proceed from love. Such are the vows of religion. They are assumed out of a great love of God; they are observed faithfully on account of this same love. The very perpetuity of the vows implies a great love of God. Two young men not subject to mili-tary service volunteer. The one does so with the under-standing that he may withdraw from the service when-ever it pleases him; the other, for the duration of the war. o Hasn't the one who enlisted for the du~ration shown greater generosity and love of country? By his vows the religious volunteers for God's service in the state of perfec-tion for the duration of his life. Spiritual writers have compared that act to martyrdom. It is a most sublime act of the love of God; it can merit a reward akin to that of martyrdom. If we examine these three vows more intimately we see that they contribute immensely to progress in the love of God which is perfection. Negatively, they remove from the religious the three principal obstacles to spiritual per-fection: "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life" (I ,John 2:16). Voluntary poverty does away with the inordinate love of and solicitude for tem.- poral things: voluntary chastity banishes all carnal dis-order and the worrisome care of family: voluntary obedi-ence, being a continuous exercise of humility, removes pride, the misuse of liberty, and all anxiety as to the best use of our liberty. Not only do these vows remove bar-riers, they also positively foster in us the love of God; in fact, they are a constant and uninterrupted exercise of that love. in the religious state there are also many other acts, which are not commanded by vow, but only by rule. In 404 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS most religious institutes the rule of itself does not oblige under sin, even venial sin, yet the acts performed according to the rule have the full merit of the virtue of religion. The vows and the rule are the means ~oar excellence of advancing in charity, the essence of spiritual perfection. ¯ Some of the general advantages of the religious state, the "state of perfection," may be noted. The religious state is a safe haven from innumerable dangers to the sou!, and a powerful aid to the acquirement of virtues of every kind. After martyrdom, it is the most perfect act of charity, because in it the religious gives his all to God for-ever. Indeed, as already mentioned, the religious state is a kind of real martyrdom, bloodless and less terrifying, but more painful by reason of the length of time involved. It is a holocaust, not merely offered to God, but consumed utterly in the fire of His love. It is a kind of second bap-tism, removing the punishment due to previous sins, as St. Thomas asserts (Summa Theoloqica II-II, q. 189, a. 3). It is a perpetual exercise of the virtue of religion, the highest of the moral virtues. The religious state also effects immense good for the neighbor, both spiritually and temporally, by prayer, by good example, by works of charity, as history eloquently attests. Finally, its rewards are the greatest: a "hundredfold" in this life and in the next a huge share in the eternal joys of heaven. Of course, as Bede Jarrett, O.19. says, "it may be said quickly to all this that religious life cramps the soul, shuts it in, hampers its free development; and the answer would be presumably to admit the accusation. Religious life does shut in the soul; but only as steam is shut in and cramped that it may work the more. A man may give the steam ample room for free development, but only at the risk of finding it useless tohim; if he can somehow cloister it narrowly it will work the harder. The flaring jet of gas, 405 AUGUSTINE KLAAS blown widely by the wind, has no doubt scope for its free movement, but (if the fantastic expression be allowed) clothe it with the habit of religion and it will become, as incandescent, a better source of heat and light. Perhaps in some such way the spirit of man may nee~t a cloister and a habit, the restraint of vow and rule, in order that it may be fuller of energy and intense existence, live more com-pletely and earnestly, affect better, its dutiful purpose to give light and heat in the world about" (The Religious Life, p. 49). The personal aspect is well expressed.by these words, often attributed to St. Bernard: "Is not this Religion-holy, pure and immaculate--in which a man lives more purely, falls more rarely, rises more quickly, walks more safely, is sprinkled with the dew of grace more abundantly, rests more securely, dies more confidently, is cleansed more quickly and is rewarded more copiously?" A religious need never look wistfully towards some other state of life, foolishly day-d~eaming of what might have been. His is a lofty state of life. His is the royal road to spiritual perfection and the highest love of God. Let him tread that road humbly and gratefully. Let him walk courageo~asly and generously in the footprints of Him Who repeats daily in the heart of every religious, "Come, Follow Me." BOOKS RECEIVED THE MEANING OP THE MASS. By Paul Bussard and Felix M. Kitsch, O.F.M. Cal). P.J. Kenedy ~ Sons, New York. ANSWERS. By Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. Salvatorian Fathers, St. Nazianz, Wis-consin. MY SILENT PARTNER. °By H. J. Heagney. Salvatorian Pathers, St. Naz~anz, Wisconsin. THE BOOK OF CATHOLIC AUTHORS, By Walter Romig. Walter Romig ~ Company, Detroit. A LETTER FROM LISIEUX. B~r 2ohn Mathias Haffert. The Scapular Press, Sea Isle City, N. J. MOMENTS WITH GOD. By Edward F. Garesche, S.J. Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee. 406 From Prles~s Reverend Fathers:' A rather indispensable requisite for direction in the confessional is to allow ample time for the hearing of the confessions. If this time is barely adequate merely to hear the confessions, little direction can be given. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: I have been interested in your discussion about the direction of religious, particularly of Sisters; and having had some experience in the matter I thought I might contribute my mite to throw light on the subject. Comparing my experience among the various members of many communities I find that in certain communities the matter of direc-tion is a usual one, whereas in others it is hardly ever used. This has led me to the conclusion that the traditions of the community imbibed in the novitiate have something to do with the use or non-use of direction by the Sisters. It seems, therefore, that the novice-mistress will have very much to say whether.and how the Sisters of her community are going to seek the benefit of direction. It would seem to me that the novice-mistress should teach her charges about the nature, value and method of spiritual direction. Father Fab~r's famous chapter on the matter in Growth in Holiness will be a big help. The thought also occurs to me that it would be well to draw up a symposium of the various ideas suggested, in a final summing up paper by the Editor, so that the conclusions will be easily and quick-ly apparent. Signed, etc. Reverend Fathers: Penitents that are seeking direction will be inclined to respond to a confessor who, they are convinced, possesses among other things a sympathetic understanding of their individual needs. Upon the shoulders of Fr. A, however, rests the burden of proof, and this can hardly be accomplished by silence. Since it is true that he cannot 407 COMMUNICATIONS begin to assume real guidance until he has first ascertained the work-ings of God's grace in a particular soul, his prime task is not only to show evidence of personal interest, but also to provide opportunities for self-revelati0n. The tenob of a confession, even though it contains only "ordinary human failings," should suggest the topic for a simple instruction of a psychological character, calculated to show how these faults develop or how the opposite virtues may be strengthened. Probably nothing so encourages penitents as to hear a description, however brief, of a condition similar to their own interior activities; to see pictured before them, as it were, their own feelings and thoughts which are often difficul~ for them to express in language. This is especially true of those penitents who feel that they are deriving no fruit from their prayer, and think they are making no progress in perfection. An instruction of this kind, given with prudence and gentleness, may do much to invite spontaneous openness towards Ft. A. Fr. A, when all is said and 'done, may-decide to limit.himself;- ¯ after hearing a confession, to a few pious phrases and admonitions. He may even speak sublimely about the Holy Trinity, the Blessed Eucharist, or the Sacred Humanity of our Lord. To be sure, this practice is very praiseworthy and ought to engender devotion in a general way. But let us refrain from calling it "Spiritual Direc-tion." Wise guidance demands an intimate knowledge of the main factors in a penitent's past life: of present faults, virtues, habits, dis-positions, temptations, etc., which cannot be garnered magically out of the air. And it stands to reason that these spiritual hors d'oeuvres are destined to fall far short of any real plan of direction, to say nothing of their inefficacy to provide a substantial diet for each indi-vidual soul. May we add that in the direction of penitents who are composed of bod~/and spirit, it is essential that a good confessor ground him-self well in the fundamentals, at least, of human temperamental traits and the organic and nervous funetions of the human frame. Not all failings are the direct result of bad will or the blandishments of the devil. Let Fr. A examine himself on whether he has ever attempted to corrdct, by spiritual remedies, a meditation made poorly because of physical fatigue or severe mental strain. With this last thought in mind, besides the bibliographical suggestions made in the previous issue of this REVIEW one might profitably recommend to any con- 408 COMMUNICATIONS lessor, as a supplement to his spiritual wisdom, such books as: Psgchologg of Character, by R.'Allers: Lindworsky's Psychologg of Asceticism and Training of the Will; McCarthy's Safeguarding Men-tal Health; D. yon Hildebrand's In Defense of Purity; the excellent study of characters (as a basis for spiritual activities) in one of the appendices to Tanquerey's Spiritual Life; and any standard works, e.g. Gray'~, on Anatomy and Physiology. Signed, etc; Reverend Fathers: The authorsof most of the communications in the S~ptember REVIEW, especially the priests, seem to think that the priest should always take the initiative in giving spiritual direction to reli-gious; and they find fault with youk Father~ A for not doing this. But I think that much can~be said on Father A's side. Not all reli-gious are interested in getting spiritual direction from their confessor. Furthermore, as for those religious who would appreciate some spir-itual direction, why should not they take the initiative? Why shouldn't they presume that the priest is willing to help them until he shows that he isn't? Why should it be necessary for a priest to deal with mature people as he would with a child and ask such ques-tions as, "Is there anything that is a source of anxiety to you?°'- "Is there any way I can.help you?" etc . I propose these difficulties sincerely. I think that spiritual direc-t'ion is a two-sided affair, and that in general the approach should be made by the penitent, not ~he priest. There is no comparison between the retreat-confessor and the ordinary confessor. At the time of retreat religious are particularly susceptible to good advice, and the conferences of the retreat are often occasions for seeking counsel. The ordinary confessor has no such external helps. Signed, etc . From Sisters Reverend Fathers : As a suggestion concerning the problem of direction by the con-fessor, I would say that religious should be taught how to go to con-fession. We were taught when children, "Say what sins you have committed and how many times," and that is perhaps all many of us did before entering a convent and even continue to do. If, after entering upon the religious life, confessions would be made differ- 409 COMMUNICATIONS ently, as they should be according to books, and retreat conferences~ it would be helpful to be told what to tell in confession besides sin. Another thing: Many of our difficulties are with superiors and members of the community, and to seek direction the Whole story or part of the story would have to be told. "As this means bringing the faults of others into one's own confession, spiritual direction is often skipped, and one plods along perhaps on the wrong road. But what can one do? Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: I wish to say that for many religious, spiritual direction is simply out of the question because of the custom of having the pastor serve in the capacity of confessor. I do not say this by way of criticism, but it is a simple fact that this custom does give rise to an embarrassing spiritual predicament. I'm certain that many souls would be eter-nally grateful and that a revival of spiritual fervor would be effected in many convents if this custom could be changed. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: As I have been fortunate at different periods in my more than thirty years in religion in receiving valuable direction from the ordinary confessor, and also have hungered for it for long stretches and now rejoice in three and a half years of satisfaction, may I try to make this available to other sisters? "How to get together?" If possible, a word from the confessor on his willingness to give personal 'he!p any time wanted. If that is not suggested, then the sister should ask straight out for help, or-- if she wants steady, consistent supervision--for direction, and express her readiness to be a real child in candor and obedience. If at any time ~she does not seem to get the confessor's meaning, or if she feels the advice is not fitting her, she should say so, knowing that both want to make the necessary adjustment for real help. She can certainly say when advice has helped her and where a point is often repeated ask to have it more fully developed. Sometimes a "light" or a resolution from her meditation or day of recollection may be a God-sent hint, and the confessor can help her to use it more effectively. I think the weekly confessor's direction can not be substitute~l 410 COMMUNICATIONS for by advice in the anfiual retreat or by an occasional visit from a special confessor. Its unique advantages seem to be: 1) consistency through ups and dgwns; 2).more balanced judgment of what should be striven for; 3). convincing encguragement and reproof; 4) the sister's confidence in knowing there is one who knows her to help in an emergency. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: Your article.Spiritual Direction by the Ordinary Con~:essor in the July issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has greatly interested me and a number of Sisters who have just returned home from the various brands of summer sessions. Among those who read your article; the consensus of opinion seems to be that we ask for and receive educa-tional guidance more readily and effectively because we understand how to state: our problems in that field, a thing with which most of us have difficulty in spiritual guidance. Nearly all Sisters have read Saint Ignatius, Saint Francis de Sales, Faber, Dora Marmi.on, Tissot, et al. ; so generally we have s6me background, But we simply do 'not know the procedures for the practice of regular and consistent spiritual guidance: As far as I can judge, all our confessors have been Father A's, but the net result in guidance is indefinite and without satisfying.resultl, at least in my case. A few model "opening exercises" including hints on the amount of background, if any, which is needed, and other essential details for the presentation of one of the "practical situations" would glad-den the heart of any of us as well as give the Sisters' ordinary con-. fessor a real "starting point'." ~ Having missed the ordinary confessor, I steppe~t into the confes-sional of one of the parish curates to make my weekly confession. "Jt{s't what progress have you made during the past week in the prac-tice of . . . ?'' I was not prepared to give a definite account. The expecthtion of an o~casibnal qhestion of ~this""t~;pe would hel~ in many ways and provide an opening. Signed, etc. Reverend Fathers': ~ I am speaking for all,the members of our small community, ten religious. We.have been without any real spiritual direction for a 411 COMMUNICATIONS long time, and our positive suggestion would be this: Let the con-lessor give a few words on the saint of the day, virtues to be imitated, etd., or on the Gospel for the Sunday. This direction need not be specific direction for one special individual, but a general one suitable for all. We do hope to receive some direction in the confessional, if not weekly, at hast occasionally. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: Your case of Father A was so well put that I almost sympathized ~with him. Yet I do not see how timidity can be an excuse for one so zealous. Even if it were, it would not answer in many cases. If direction is "the methodical, regular instruction given by a person with grace of state to an upright and generous soul to help her advance in solid piety and even toward perfection," how could so many priests --"persons with gra.ce of state"--be unable to fulfill this office? If they.are unable is it not rather because of their lack of interest in the spiritual life than their lack of preparation to undertake the work of helpful confessors? Father A may be excused because of timidity. That is surely not the reason the great number of confessors rarely give more than absolution. Why should they be so timid on spiritual matters? And if they hesitate to attempt to find out whether their advice would be received by us, what of our timidity about asking help occasionally from one who never gives more than he must even when he is asked and sometimes cuts us off sharply with no help whatsoever ? Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: I have read all of the comments on Confessors of Religious and ¯ Confessions by Religious. May I add a few running thoughts? 1. The kindness and patience of confessors even after hours in the confessional is really remarkable. The readers of this REVIEW must confessthat ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they have met with utmost consideration. 2. Penitents should forget the phrases used in prayer-book examinations of conscience and really tell what they did as it hap-pened, e.g., "I got angry and slammed the door." I will admit that it is not so genteel as, "I became impatien~ and broke silence," but it gives .the confessor a better idea of the incident and is more humili- 412 COMMUNICATIONS ating to the" penitent. Humiliation fosters spiritual growth better than consolation and generalities. 3. Personally, I like a comment on the confession I have made. and would welcome a suggestion for a weekly or a monthly practice. I must admit an abrupt question makes me mentally blank: but a suggestion to report on my particular examen at my next confession would make me do some spiritual work. 4. Sisters would do well to keep silence about their confessions and their confessors. If I were a confessor I should not like the advice I gave repeated at community recreation. 5. Most of the Sisters are very appreciative and very grateful to their confessors for the generosity shown by them in accepting the arduous, assignment of "ordinary" confessor. If all cannot be fatherly and psychological and very energetic and alert; we must admit that all, or nearly all, are earnest and devout, and above all. patient. 6, Both confessor and penitent will be more at ease if they are unacquainted outside of the confessional. 7. Better guidance can be given if the penitent will present her-self "regularly" to the ordinary confessor. A Sister " Reverend Fathers: It is the experience of most of our houses that there is a real need for spiritual direction in the weekly confessions. Without this there is a tendency for the Sisters to put work first and spiritual exercises second. Routine confessions with little or no practical advice are of little help. Some years ago, in one of our houses, the confessor, when first appointed, gave each of the Sisters a subject for particular examen and insisted that they report to him each week regarding the subject. In less than a month there was a marked difference in the spirit of that community--so much so, that the superior said that, had the confessor remained six months, the community would have been a community of saints. (The Father was only replacing.) In another community, the retreat-master carried the theme of the Indwelling of the Holy Spirit all through the retreat. The confessor took it up and encouraged the Sisters in its practice afterwards.In that com-munity charity reigned supreme. 413 COMMUNICATIONS If confessors could lead their penitents in contemplative com-munities to God through self-forgetfulness, they would be of the greatest help. These souls can reach the heights of. perfection if they can be persuaded to fix their attention on God instead of self. Thank you for this opportunity to express our opinion on an important subject. A Mother Superior Reverend Fathers: As religious, we really wish and seek for spiritual guidance and more or less expect the confessor to be the one to guide. In many cases we do not know how to go about it: in other cases, when this guidance has been asked for and there is no follow-up, we lose heart. Again, we may have waited for weeks or months to seek advice or help from a certain confessor (for instance the retreat-master), and here were treated lightly or hurriedly. Is it any wonder that one loses heart and makes the weekly confession just the mere recital of one's sins and imperfections, and many times just a repetition of last week's story? To advance in our spiritual life through our confessions there must be interest and patience off the part of the confessor and the penitent. If the confessor is interested, he will find a way that will lead the penitent on to greater holiness and peace of heart. The religious herself will want to improve her spiritual status and will work at it with heart and soul, if she finds in her confessor this inter-ested guide: In my mind, there is no place where a priest can do as much good as in the confessional, since there he speaks directly to the soul, to a soul that is eager to reform and advance, therefore to a soul that is more open to suggestions, etc. In the many confessions that I've made, those that gave me the greatest help were those in which the confessor came right back at me with something that I had confessed or asked me if there was any-thing in which he could help me. To this day the help I received on those [eu~ occasions still urges me on. If spiritual guidance will do this on rare occasions, what would it not do if given oftener? Now comes the question, "How can this be brought home to the confessor who is not in the habit of doing this?" Also, how would one work out a plan for nuns like the one given by the Brother Novice Master? A Sister Superior 414 COMMUNICATIONS Reverend Fathers: This letter is the result of discussions carried on by a large num-ber of nuns representing many small communities. What we say will offer no "positive suggestion," but if may throw light on the reason why the religious community often does not take the initiative in seeking spiritual direction. 1. Most sisters do not like to take the initiative in asking the confessor for guidance unless he assures them by an invitation or some remark that he is willing to do so. Among the reasons for this timidity, a predominant one is the time element. For instance, here are some situations that present the "time" difficulty: The confessions of the sisters are heard shortly before Mass, or shortly before the priest's supper time; or the priest must go immediately to another convent for more confessions; or the priest has to drive quite a dis-tance over bad roads and if delayed he would have to drive in the dark. 2. Sometimes the ~isters feel that they cannot express their diffi-culties to the more learned confessor. 3. In a small group of sisters, some who would like to seek guidance do not do so because they fear that others would be sus-picious of such souls. 4. The question of charity presents a particular difficulty: These matters are hard to formulate without reflecting on any individual, especially in a small group of sisters. Many sisters think they may never ask questions about such things in the confessional, as this would be a violation of charity and a mark of disloyalty to their own community. Signed, etc . [EDITORS' NOTE: Some of these communications had to be slightly shortened and certain points were omitted. The omission is only temporary. The points will be included in the summary to be given at the dose of these discussions on spiritual direction. Readers who have anything further to say on the subject of spiritual direction are encouraged to send in their communications as soon as possible. Address them to: The Editors of Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas.] 415 Book Reviews THE ART OF LIVING JOYFULLY. By the Reverend Henry Brenner, O.S.B. Pp. 138. The Grail, St. Meinrad, Indiana, 1942. $1.00. "The aim of this book is to give concisely and in an interesting form for the usual reader the various helps recommended in quelling the mental and spiritual disturbances of human nature." The quotation is taken from the jacket of the book. The book itself contains thirty-seven brief essays that mostly concern what we are wont to call the "natural ~iirtues"--for example, cheerful-ness, patience, meekness, composure, and so on. The author's general plan is to recall an incident from the life of our Lord, then to give some ~ommon-sense advice on the virtue illustrated. The book is not specifically directed to religious; some of the applica-tions would not concern them at all. But a large percentage of the essays could be used profitably for meditation.--G.KELL¥,$.$. CATECHISM COMES TO LIFE. By the Reverend Stephen Aylward. Pp. 189. Catechetlcal Guild, St. Paul, Minnesota. $1.00. Regardless of how good' a teacher of religion you already are, we believe that you will be the better for the reading of Father Aylward's book, Catech~'sm Comes to L~'t:e. Catechism is not dead, and it does not require a miracle to make it come to life, but in some classrooms it appears dead just because teachers fail to make use of such methods as are explained and recommended in this most recent contribution to the field of catechetics. .Father Aylward rightly maintains that if the teaching of. tell- ' gion is really to be made to live it must be animated in two ways: "Animated with the spirit of Christ's holiness. Animated by the methods of Christ." Referring to the imitation of Christ's holi-ness he says: '~'Love and humility--this is the hidden and abso-lutely necessary foundation of any good Catechism teaching. The loving and humble heart speaks the universal language of child-hood. The teacher with a childlike heart has the great and enduring secret of making Catechism live and become beautiful for children." Among the methods recommended are four main types of examples: doing things, drawing things, showing things, and telling, things. As the author himself states, his book "is an intro- 4.16 ~ BOOK REVIEWS duction to a method of visual education, applicable to every major problem in the Catechism, which can make religious doctrine interestingly clear to all age-groups. Since it is an introduction it would be impossible to give detailed illustrations and treatment of every Catholic doctrine, but sufficient examples and explanations of the method are cited to give you all that is necessary to make yourself a practical catechist." No doubt the author of Catechism Comes to Life would be one of the first to admit the general saying that all comparisons limp. This should be noted especially in making use of his unique method of applying chemistry in teaching the sacraments. Like-wise no one should fail to notice Father Aylward's warning that not all his methods are equally applicable to all age-groups'. There is however sufficient material adaptable to all age-groups to war-rant recommending this book to all teachers whether they be in elementary scl~ool, high school, or college.--A~. J. HEEG, S.J. SAINT THOMAS AOUINAS MEDITATIONS. Adapted from ÷he Latin of Rev. P. D. Mezard, O.P., by Father E. C. McEnlry, O.P. Pp. xlv -k S:~6. College Book Company, Columbus, Ohio, 1941. $:}.00. This is an important book, especially for priests and religious. Father McEniry, in his preface, gives the following description of its contents. "These meditations may truly be called a compendium of the Summa since they are culled mostly therefrom to the number of some four hundred and arranged, with references to the original, for daily use throughout the year . . . "During A~dvent will be found excerpts from St. Thomas on the Incarnation. These are succeeded by sections on the Birth of Our Lord, His Infancy~ and Public Life. The time df Lent is taken up with reflections on Our Lord's Sufferings and the 'Death on the Cross. Afterwards with the Risen Christ the new life of regenera-tion through grace, through glorification and inspiration of the Holy Ghost,-~ and through the Eucharist are successively treated, ending with the Feast of the Sacred Heart. "In the second part, extending through July to Advent, will be found five sections dealing successively with God and His Attributes, the purgative, illuminative and unitive ways of spiritual advance-ment and fina|ly St. Thomas' treatment of the four last things. Succeeding the meditations proper will be found seventeen topics for 417 BOOK REVIEWS spiritual retreats from the Angelic Doctor, with Thomistic pr~yers, the. entire work standing forth as a real synopsis of religion and of the spiritual life." Reference to the doctrinal and ascetical soundness of such a book would be, quite obviously, superfluous. We have here the antithesis of pietistic effusiveness. Consequently, it is felt that a Word of caution is in place for those who may be unacquainted with the "Summa. St. Thomas, in writing that masterpiece, did not intend primarily to prepare a collection of meditations. His main intent Was to instruct, to teach Christian doctrine, rather than to motivate. 'Consequently, 'the selections offered in the volume under discussion are expository and instructive, but they contain very ¯ little by way of explicit practical application to life. The one using the book is left to his own resources. That is a very good thing, provided he is sufficiently skilled in the art of mental prayer, and realizes the inadequecy of intellectual effort unless it results in acts of the will. And even the intellectual content of very many selections included in the volume is to be discovered only with difficulty. The difficulty arises, it seems to this reviewer, first, because the selection is not.seen in its context. Frequently St. Thomas is answering a series of objections against the true doctrine, and the full force of his answer cannot be appreciated without an. acquaintance with the objections. In the second place, the translation is rather stiff and stays too close to the Latin idiom to make for smooth reading. It is no easy task to turn the concentrated phrases of the Angelic Doctor into idiomatic ~nglish, but one wishes that more of an effort to do so had been made in the present instance. At the same time, appar-ent carelessness in punctuation might have been avoided. The fol-lowing sentence, from p. 175, is not an isolated instance: "And he is said to deserve it, inasmuch as his unjust will, is chastised thereby." And the reader will be hard put to it to glean any meaning from ¯ this sentence, found on p. 287: "But because this union is the effect of charity from the fervour of which man obtains forgiveness, not only of the guilt but also of the punishment, but according to the measure of his de~rotion and fdrvour." Of course, by checking the passage against the original Latin, it is discovered that somewhere in transit the entire main clause of the sentence was lost!. Let these few observations suffice to show that the book is not 418 BOOK REVIEWS without shortcomings~ To all who have been thus forewarned, it is highly recommended because, in the words of Father McEniry,.it does stand forth as "a real synopsis of religion and of the spiritual life."mC: DEMUTH, S.J. " "DRAW NEAR TO H!M." By Sister Mary Aloysl Kiener, S.N.D. Pp. 165. Frederick Pusfet, Inc., New York, 1942. $1.50. I have ~truggled through books of r~pute in the spiritual life with less pleasure and profit than I read Draw Near to Him. Sister Aloysi ~as some worth-while messages, on Communion, on the Cross, on Sacrifice. Am!d the many ecstatic expressions of an overflowing heart.are thoughts that remain in one's mind as vivid.ly as ~i shout during sacred silence. Such are her comment on the fact that Christ gave Himself as our food in Holy Communion: "We should have con-sidered it blasphemy for a mortal even to propose such a cotirse of action tb the Son of God"; this laconic but memorable statement:' "Thereis nothing spectacular about the simple injunction: Follow Me"; and lastly, "Our happiness w~ill always be commensurate with thd perservefing energy we bring to the business of carving sanctity out of the timbdr of life, painfully, perseveringly." Sister A1oysi could,in general, have devoted more attention to those religious who are struggling along wkhout experiencing deep interior consolations. Some effort might have been made to solve the conflict that must arise in those who, at one and the same time, wish to follow Christ in" "derision and shame," as she suggests, yet must, for Goffs glory, use their talents in a way to bring the applause of the world. The section on suffering migh't have been improved by more insistence on cf'Jeerfu! suffering. Especiglly. worth-while is her explanation of the Catholic teaching on daily Communion as opposed to ~he Jansenistic view. -~B. FAHERTY, S.J. THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND THE VOWS." A treatise by Monseigneur Charles Gay, Bishop of Anth&don. Translated from the French by O.S.B. Pp. viff -{- 276. The Newman Boo~ Shop, Wes÷m[nster, Maryland, 1942. $2.50. An introduction ~ on the Religious Life and a separate treatise on each of the Vows f6rm the contents of this book. Treating of poverty; the author outlines the moral obligations of the vow, 419 BOOK REVIEWS then dwells on the motives for observing perfect poverty. He fol-lows somewhat the same method regarding chastity, giving first the concept, then the motives. Obedience he subjects to a pro-longed analysis that deals successively with .the obedience of our Lord, the principles on which obedience is founded, advantages flowing from its observance, and the duties imposed by religious obedience. The treatises on poverty and obedience contain many good points: for instance, the six motives for practising poverty are inspiring, and the discussion of the foundation for obedience is well calculated to impress the reader with respect for good order and authority. However, these good points are offset somewhat by the fact that the wordiness and long paragraphsmake for tedious reading. The section on chastity is a distinct demerit of the book, in this reviewer's opinion. Like many others who write lyrically of this virtue, Monseigneur Gay uses words and definitions inaccurately. "As a natural virtue," he writes, "it (chastity) may be looked upon as a kin~! of royal habit of the soul, by means of which she keeps all the acts of the body, even its slightest movements, com-pletely beneath her sway." Again, in summing up, he says: "Chastity, properly speaking, and looked at on its practical side, is only a religibus respect which the soul has for her own body, for the love of God Whom she has espoused in ,lesus Christ: and there-in is the actual matter of the vow of Chastity." These are not merely isolated statements: they are typical of the author's treatment of the conc.ept of chastity. The concept is not correct. We are, of course, justified in using "reverence for the body" as a motive for chastity (as St. Paul did); but we are not~Justified in iclenti~:~/ing chastity with the control of or rever-ence for the body. Chastity is but one of the virtues that concern the control of the ~body; it has to do with the control of only one specific function, and not with all the movements of that function but only with such as are voluntary. Souls who have to struggle to preserve their chastity would get neither help nor consolation for the vague and hll-embracing notion of chastity given in this book: souls inclined to scrupulosity might be harmed by it. The translation of this work was published in 1898. This seems to be a re-edition of that same translation.-~G. KELLY, S.,J. 420 BOOK REVIEWS LA VIE DES COMMUNAUI:f-S RELI~IEUSES. By ~he M~nor~e Franc~s-cans of Canada. This promising new magazine for. religious communities is a thirty-two page monthly (except July and August) in French, issued in Montreal at the annual subscription price of $1.25, and directed principally to Canadian religious. The editor is Adrien M. Malo, O.F.M.; the publication secretary, 3ogues Mass~, O.F.M. On its advisory board of three is Bishop 3. C. Chaumont. In the maga-zine there are various departments: history, canon law, spirituality, liturgy, etc.---eleven in all, covering every angle of the religious life, each in charge of an expert. The format is neat; the type is easy to read; the cover, designed by a young Franciscan, is attractive, but somewhat somber. The first number, September 15, 1942, has an introductory let-ter of commendation from 3. M. Rodrigue Cardinal Villeneuve, O.M.I. of Quebec and contains some excellent articles---on the early religious of Montreal; on spiritual theology, of which an entire course is outlined for succeeding numbers; on the juridical aspect of reli-gious life; on the novitiate according to. the mind of the Church; on the Mystical Body and eucharistic liturgy, the latter by Archbishop Georges Cabana. Book reviews, a chronicle, and a question box complete the contents of this first issue. The Vie has already been well received. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS wishes it continued success and heartily commends it to all who read French. Moreover, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is privileged to unite fraternally with the Vie in striving to achieve the two objectives laid down in the foreword of the first number: the proximate one of giving to religious communities that Life which Christ came to give to mankind so abundantly (John 10: 10), and the ultimate one of pre-paring for Christ a "Church in all her glory, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but . . . holy and without blemish" ('Ephesians 5:27).--A. KLAAS, S.J. NOTE: For the review of Maql In Her Scapular Promise, by John Mathias Haffert; please turn to p. 426.reED. 421 Questions and Answers 36. If there are" two or three members of the same family in a r.eligious congregation, does the junior member lose the right to vote in com-munity affairs? The general law of the Church has no particular regulations regarding two or more members of. the same family who are pro-fessed in a religious institute. It would notseem to be just to deprive a religious who has made profession of perpetual vows of his right to active voice (the right to vote)in community affairs. Some approved constitutions limit the right to passive voice (the right to be voted for) in the case of near relatives to the extent of not allowing two brothers or two sisters of the same family to be elected councillors at the same time. Such a partial limitation of passive voice would not seem to be contrary to the spirit of the Code. The approved consti-tutions should be followed in this matter. 37. Please explain +he Crozier indulgences, and tell us which priests have +he faculty 1o bless rosaries with these indulgences. The Crozier indulgences are a special indulgence of five hundred days granted for the recital of each Pater or Abe on a rosary of the Blessed Virgin especially blessed for this purpose. It is not necessa.ry tO say the entire rosary of five decades, nor even one decade, in order to gain the indulgence. It is gained every time that either a Pater or an Ave is said on such a rosary. Nor is it necessary to meditate on the mysteries of the rosary in order to gain this indulgence. While it is a general rule that one can gain only one indulgence at a time for the performance of a good work, still we have an excep-tion in favor of the Crozier indulgence by reason of a special privi-lege granted by Pope Pius X on June 12, 1907, whereby the faithful may gain by one and the same recitation of the rosary, both the Crozier and the Dominican indulgences, provided the rosary has received both blessings. In this case, however, the conditions for gaining the Dominican indulgences must be observed: five decades of the rosaiy must be said on the same day, though the decades may be said at different times: and one must meditate on the mysteries of the rosary. 422 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS While the privilege of blessing rosaries with the Crozier indul-gence was restricted for many years to the Crozier Fathers (Canons Regular of St. Augustine of the Order of the Holy Cross), Plus X granted the Father General of that order the power to d~legate any priest to bless beads with the Crozier indulgences, and later he granted the same faculty to the S. Congregation in charge of indul-° genres. 38. If ÷he Angelus is said at a time other than when the church bell rings, is it necessary to ring a small bell while saying it? No, that is not necessary. In 1884 Pope Leo XIII granted the indulgences to the faithful who, for a suffcient reason, either could not kneel while reciting the Angelus, or who could not do so when the church bell rang. The latest decree on the subject, issued by the Sacred Penitentiary on February 20, 1933, is given in the official col-lection of ihdulgences (Preces et Pia Opera, 1938, N. 300) as fol-lows: "To the faithful who recite the Angelus . . . at dawn, at noon, and at eventide, or as soon after these times as 'they can, is granted: an indulgence of ten years as often as they do so: a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions, if they have-recited it daily for an entire month." It is a laudable custom, however, to ring a small bell if the r.eli-gious community recites the Angelus regularly at a time which does not coincide with the ringing of the church bell. 39. What is meant by the obligation imposed upon superiors by canon 509 "to have read publicly the decrees ordered by the Holy See to be so read"? From time to time the Holy See issues decrees regarding religious institutes, and occasionally in the decree itself orders that it be read publicly in each community at least once, or even every year. Thus, before the new Code of Canon Law went into effect (May 19, 1918) there were three decrees which had to be read every year in every religious community, and which were usually pri.nted in the book of rules and constitutions. These decrees dealt with the account of conscience (Quero~,dmodam of Pope Leo XIII), the confessions of religious (Cure de sacramentalibus of Plus X) and the frequent reception of Holy Communion (Sacra Tridentina Sgnodus of Plus X). These decrees need not and should not be read any 423 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS longer, since the matter contained in them has been incorporated into the'Code, and has been changed in some minor details, so that the original decrees no longer fully express the mind of the Church on these subject~. Canon 509 re~ers therefore only to new decrees which have been or will be issued after the Code. At present there is only one such decree which must be read in its entirety to religious clerics at the beginning of each year. This is the decree concerning the clerical and religious training of subjects destined for the priest-hood, issued by the S. Congregation of Religious by order of Pius XI, on December first, 1931. It will not be out of place here to quote the first part of the canon referred to i "Every superior should promote among his sub-jects the knowledge and the execution of the decrees of the Holy See which concern religious." This refers primarily to decrees which deal with the obligations of the religious life. But it will be very useful and at times necessary for superiors to inform their subjects of other decrees which have an immediate interest for religious, although not issued by the S. Congregation of Religious. Such would be decrees which regard indulgences, the liturgy, and any others which grant privileges to the faithful at large. 40. In some communities of women, the superior conducts the Stations, or the Way of the Cross, in the same manner as the priest for his con-gregation. From this practice two questions arise: I. Is not this prac-tice on the part of a woman a violation of the law of the Church which forbids a woman's conducting services in the church or chapel? 2. Do not religious who remain in their places lose the indulgences granted ÷o those who make the Stations? Generally speaking, one of the conditions for gaining the indul-gences attached to the devotion of the Way of the Cross is that the person who wishes to gain them must move from station to station. However, the Sacred Congregation of Indulgences (Decr. auth. n. 210) granted the favor that in the public practice of this devo-tion, where disorder might arise, it is sut~cient that a priest accom-panied by two acolytes go from station to station and recite the usual prayers, the congregation answering from their respective places: in which case it is advisable that the people rise and genuflect at each station with the priest. On February 27, 1901, the same S. Congregation granted a similar favor to the Marist Brothers 424 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS whereby they could gain these indulgences if only one person~. (for example, a brother of the community) made the round of the sta-tions, the rest of the community remaining in their places. The condition laid down in this grant was that there was a lack of space in the community chapel for all the religious to move from station to station. On May 7, 1902 this same privilege was extended to the chapels of all religious women, under the same conditions. 41. Is it advisable to permit Sister catechists who 90 to mission places during the summer to llve in the rectory or to board with seculars during the time they are teaching catechism in the parish? The good done by religious in conducting so-called oacatior~ schools, that is, teaching Christian doctrine to children in parishes and missions in which there is no parochial school, is of the greatest value to the Church, and should be duly appreciated by religious superiors. Difficulties must be met with, and the problem of housing the reli-gious is a serious one. Since there is no general legislhtion in canon law covering this case, we may follow the norm of canon 20 of the Code which directs us to follow directions laid down by the Church in similar cases. We have some such norms in two instructions of the Holy See regarding religious who are away from home on a begging tour (see canon 624). For such religious women the Holy See prescribes that they