"Printed for the use of the Committee on the Judiciary, 1952." ; At head of title: Committee print, 82d Congress 2d session ; Mode of access: Internet.
A fulminating extension of rabies—which has been enzootic in northern Malaya since 1924—occurred in Kuala Lumpur in April 1952. The outbreak was suppressed by the compulsory mass vaccination of dogs, stringent legislation, and intensive stray-dog destruction. Similar measures are being employed in the current campaign, the aim of which is the complete eradication of the disease.
"This manual supersedes TM 9-1990, 15 September 1947, including C1, 26 August 1952; and C2, 6 February 1956." ; Includes updates: Changes no. 1, 13 September 1962; and Changes no. 2, 24 August 1964. ; "14 June 1961." ; Caption title. ; Chapter 1. General -- Chapter 2. Cartridge components and accessories -- Chapter 3. Ammunition for military weapons -- Chapter 4. Miscellaneous small-arms ammunition -- Chapter 5. Destruction of ammunition to prevent enemy use -- Appendix. References -- Index. ; Mode of access: Internet.
In the present-day world of change, every time we pick up the paper we read of something new in our society. We now have new rockets, new satellites, new computers, and new methods or destruction. There are also many "new" things in the field of education. One of these is federal aid to education. As yet, there seems to be no consensus on the merits or this supposedly new approach to educational finance. Some view it as a kind or plague; others see it as an unmixed blessing. Actually, federal aid to education is quite old and quite common.
Correspondence to and from George Yamada regarding the proposed highway through the Hopi village of Hotevilla. Letters include: plans on action to be taken to stop the highway construction; requests for news and information on the Hopi situation; letters to the editor to inform the public of the potential destruction of Hotevilla; and information regarding the hiring of lawyer Wayne Collins to investigate and possibly represent the Hopi tribe. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE: The Ammon Hennacy Associates were Quaker activists Virginia Anderson and George Yamada who in the 1950s wrote letters on behalf of the Hopi to United States Government leaders from the BIA to the Justice Department. Anderson was an Arizona State University Instructor in Social Work and Psychology and George Yamada, was a World War II draft resister.
Historically, there is little doubt that Antipater was a political giant. Even the limited account or his life reveals the shrewdness and native talents of this Idumean. Yet he was and is neglected. Perhaps the reason rests in the shortness or his actual reign as ruler. Perhaps he is forgotten due to the fact that he was never actually crowned as king. But the purpose of this paper was not to answer the "why," but rather to establish the historical fact that Antipater was truly an important figure in the history between the testaments, and that he really did influence the political tone and policies of the New Testament era. The foundations which Antipater laid down were used both by Herod and his sons until the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 A.D. The fact that the rulers after Antipater were not as successful in applying these principles merely points once again to the greatness of the Idumeen. Thus it is evident that the political policies instigated by Antipater outlived the man who originated them, and continued to influence the policies of Palestine through his children and grandchildren even during the time of the Messiah.
1. Definition of "Temporary Substitute Automobile." Defendant issued a public liability policy covering insured's use of a described vehicle (a 1955 Ford) as a taxicab. The policy contained a standard temporary substitute automobile clause, covering a non-owned auto-mobile "while temporarily used as a substitute for the described automobile when withdrawn from normal use because of its break-down, repair, servicing, loss or destruction." ========================== 2. Application of Automobile Policy Liability Limits. A husband and wife (hereinafter H and W) were injured in an accident caused by the insured. In their actions against the insured W was awarded 4,500 dollars and H 5,600 dollars. ============================= 3. Federal Government as an Insured Under its Employees' Liability Policies. In 1961, title 28 of the United States Code was amended to provide that if an action is brought against the federal government for injuries due to the improper operation of a vehicle by a government employee in the scope of his employment, the remedy against the government shall be exclusive. ============================= 4. Definition of "Hospital" in Medical Policy. The medical policy construed in Prudential Insurance Co. v. Cline provided indemnity for hospital room and board charges. ============================= 5. Meaning of "Repairer" and "Breakdown" in Inchmaree Clause. The district court decision in Russell Mining Co. v. Northwestern Fire & Marine Insurance Co., discussed in last year's Survey,' was reversed during 1963 by the Sixth Circuit.
To assure its stability the western World requires a doctrinarian and historical reconsideration of its socio-economic institutions. A possibility would be to amplify the power of administration to direct economic life within a democratic institutional framework. The realization of this possibility is hindered by the class struggles and the capitalistic forces. The first obstacle could be neutralized by means of doctrinarian and constitutional State interventions. As for the second, a transformation can be observed both in its ideological aspects and its material structure, caused by internal and external impulses. The profit principle is being replaced by the security idea and the impersonalization of enterprise converts management in wage earners which, fearing competition sign interenterpreneurial agreements. In order to overcome these obstacles and facing the danger of possible accumulation, stagnation and destruction of economic activity, the State intervention is fully justified. Although the classical economics keeps itself aloof from any ethical value judgment the mere fact that it is based on a free profit economy makes that its alleged neutrality must be taken with serious reservations. The theory must not only interpret reality but must also create the necessary tools for directing economic life, as its aims are evidently social. ; Instituto de Investigaciones Económicas
The world is searching for better and more efficient ways to use natural resources without loss of individual freedom or the destruction or negation of the initiative and energies of individuals. The Tennessee Valley is demonstrating that this can be done; that the people--farmers, workers, businessmen and citizens generally-- can mobilize their energies around the use of a great river and the more productive development of the forests and the minerals and the soil. The people of this Valley have proved that as they do these things agriculture and industry thrive and diversify and the individual finds greater freedom of opportunity for his talents. The Tennessee Valley region has a long way to go before it comes into its TVA own. But a deep frustration has been dispelled and a discouraging trend has been arrested. And in the process to date perhaps we have learned a little bit more about self-government. Perhaps we have found ways by which the state in serving the individual can help him to achieve voluntarily a better balance between his desire to take and his desire to give. Prosperity from our great physical resources the world over will be as nothing unless we can resolve this conflict within us as individuals. Dollars for methods and works that move us along a little in this direction are good investments. But their real values are beyond the reach of the standard tests of the market place.
AUTOMOBILE INSURANCE--COMPREHENSIVE CLAUSE EXCLUDING MECHANICAL BREAKDOWN--REQUIREMENT THAT EXCLUDED RISK BE SOLE PROXIMATE CAUSE BAILMENTS--DELIVERY OF POSSESSION--PROPERTY DEPOSITED IN PUBLIC LOCKER CONSTITUTIONAL LAW--INFRINGEMENT OF CIVIL RIGHTS BY PRIVATE INDIVIDUALS--CAUSE OF ACTION UNDER FEDERAL STATUTE CONSTITUTIONAL LAW--RIGHT TO JURY TRIAL--ACTION FOR STATUTORY PENALTY UNDER PRICE .CONTROL ACT CONSTITUTIONAL LAW--UNITED NATIONS CHARTER--APPLICATION AS TREATY TO RENDER STATE LAW INVALID CONTRACTS--CONSIDERATION--NEW AGREEMENT TO PAY LESS THAN ORIGINAL CONTRACT PRICE CONTRACTS--DEFINITION OF TERMS--EFFECT OF PART PERFORMANCE IN MAKING TERMS CERTAIN COPYRIGHT--ARTIST'S RIGHTS IN PRODUCTION AFTER SALE--"MORAL RIGHT" TO PREVENT DESTRUCTION CRIMINAL LAW--SEARCHES AND SEIZURES--EFFECTS OF VIOLATION OF CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT ON JURISDICTION OF FEDERAL COURTS JOINT WILLS--COMMON FUND DOCTRINE--APPLICATION WHERE PROBATE AND VESTITURE OF TITLES ARE POSTPONED MUNICIPAL CORPORATIONS--GOVERNMENTAL TORT IMMUNITY--LIABILITY OF CITY FOR INJURIES RESULTING FROM DEFECTIVE TRAFFIC SIGNAL NEGLIGENCE--DEGREE OF CARE OWED BY BUSINESS VISITOR TO THIRD PARTIES' ON LAND OF ANOTHER--DOES BUSINESS VISITOR ASSUME POSITION OF LANDOWNER? PLEADING--JOINDER OF PARTIES--JOINDER OF TORT FEASORS WHERE LIABILITY NOT JOINT TAXATION--INTERGOVERNMENTAL IMMUNITY--MUNICIPAL TAX ON BANK DEPOSIT IN CONTRACTOR'S--NAME WHERE COUNTERSIGNATURE OF FEDERAL OFFICER REQUIRED TORTS--ATTRACTIVE NUISANCE DOCTRINE--APPLICATION TO BODIES OF WATER TORTS--DUTY OF LANDOWNER TO PERSONS OUTSIDE THE PREMISES--LIABILITY OF BASEBALL PARK FOR INJURIES FROM BALLS HIT OVER FENCE TRUSTS--TRACING OF FUNDS MINGLED WITH DECEDENT TRUSTEE'S ESTATE--STATUTE LIMITING TIME FOR FILING CLAIMS AGAINST ESTATE HELD INAPPLICABLE, WITHOUT REQUIRING TRACING OF ASSETS UNEMPLOYMENT COMPENSATION--AVAILABILITY FOR WORK--LABOR MARKET AS TO HOME WORKERS
From the beginning of time, the history of man has been his struggle to obtain food. After many thousands of years, this is still a major problem which confronts the peoples of the earth. Although much food is available on earth, a great deal never benefits mankind because of deterioration and spoilage. Various kinds of spoilage cause a million tons of grain to be wasted each year. Man has learned to control and overcome some of these destructive forced through a variety of methods of food preservation. Some forms of preservation such as drying, salting, and so forth, probably have been known since the beginning of civilization. The most ancient method of food preservation, drying, was copied from nature. Early man gathered dried fruits, berries, nuts, legumes, and grains which had matured and dried on the plants. Later they used their shelters to dry food, and pre-Columbus American Indians used the heat from their fires. However, it was not until about the latter part of the eighteenth century that a hot air dehydration room was used. Much of the drying done for modern consumers is in the form of dehydration, which means artificially dried. About the same time that dehydration came into being, Nicholas Appert began work on another process of preserving food, which came to be known as canning. He received an award from Napoleon when he proved that food heated in sealed containers would not spoil if the containers were not reopened or the seal was not broken. For half a century there was no correct explanation for the success of this process until Pasteur discovered that microscopic growth caused food to spoil. It then became clear that Appert had destroyed micro-organisms by heat, and excluded their re-entry by sealing the containers. The invention of a pressure steam retort, social legislation of the Food and Drug Act, use of the common "sanitary" tin can, and research devoted to the study of nutrients in relation to the canning process have all aided significantly in creating our modern canning industry. Desrosier (7) has aptly said that food preservation practices prior to the discovery of canning were copied from nature. Canning, which has no counterpart in nature, has changed the eating habits of the western world. Although freezing was used as a method of preserving foods for centuries, the invention of a successful refrigerator in the late 1800's marked the beginning of the vast field of the modern method of refrigeration and freezing. Fish was frozen commercially as early as 1880; meats, in 1891; fruits, in 1905; and vegetables, in 1929. However, int he 1930's when modern homes contained a refrigerator, frozen foods began to find their place in commerce. It was not until 1940 that freezing assumed its rightful place as a means of preservation. To preserve foods as nearly as possible in their natural state has long been an aim of man. Each method of preservation has obvious advantages, but not one has wholly accomplished this aim. If a method could be found that preserved food without marked change in its natural characteristics, it would mean man was close to achieving his goal. Fruits and vegetables, which are very perishable, make up 40 percent of the total food consumption. Twenty-five to 50 percent of the fruits and vegetables produced to be eaten fresh, spoil before they can be consumed (45). A new method of food preservation was made possible in 1945 when the Congress of the United States passed the Atomic Energy Act. Several divisions of the Atomic Energy Commission were concerned with the application of the peaceful uses of atomic energy. In 1953, considerable research on radiation preservation of food was started on a large scale. Subjecting food to ionizing radiation has been accepted by many as an effective means of preservation. Because of the many complex problems associated with radiation sterilization, preservation by this means is not as feasible at this time as that accomplished by the low doses of radiation for pasteurization. However, there are a number of areas in these low dose treatments which show great promise for use of radiation processing of foods. 1. Conservation of grain and certain packaged products by the destruction of insect infestation. 2. The inhibition of sprouting in potatoes and other root crops. 3. The destruction of trichinae in pork and pork products. 4. The inactivation of Salmonella in egg products. 5. The extension of shelf-life of fresh fruits and vegetables, cut meats, and fresh fish. The first four areas are approaching the stage at which commercial exploitation might be considered. However, considerable research must still be pursued toward the improvement of certain radiation-treated fresh foods in regard to wholesomeness, nutritive value, color, texture, flavor, and odor. The studies presented in this thesis were conducted on the acceptability and refrigerated-life of strawberries, and sweet cherries in relation to gamma radiation dose, variety and maturity of crops and physical changes.
Issue 12.4 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; The Spiril: ot: SI:, Clare and I-ler Order Sister M. Immaculata, P.C: CEVEN centuries'ago, on August 11, 1253, the shadows of death ~ were lengthening around a group of sorrowing nuns whose ~ foundress and Mother lay dying. In ecstatic joy, she clasped to her heart a roll of parchment sealed with the Fisherman's seal. Clare Sceffi, a. noble lady of Assisi, had fled from her castle home when she was eighteen to follow Francis Bernardone. Francis had dreamed of adventure for. Christ, and no one had caught~ the flame of love that burned in his heart more ardently than Clare. Fran~is's course had now been run a full quarter of a century, and he was already b.eing venerated as the great saint whose popularity would grow even to our own day. pope Innocent IV had ascended the throne of Peter but the year before. His keen vision scanned the lower!rig storm clouds over a Europe ever beset by the Moslem threat. Could he but make the rulers of the Christian countries bestir themselves out of their com-fortable and only too often lustful letha/gy, to heed his call "God wills it !" With the burdens of ~his exalted, office heavy upon him, he, the Vicar of Christ thought of one little virgin, hidden behind cloister walls in Assisi. He knew Clare, heard she was dying; and he remem-bered the intrepid courage with which she had pleaded with him and some of his predecessors for approval Of her Rule, and of the Seraphic poverty to which she and her Daughters aspired. Innocent, like several Pontiffs before him, had,hesitated to approve a rule of life requiring such poverty as Saint Francis had bequea.thed to Saint Clare and her Daughters. Men, they thought, might oblige themselves to observe it,-but what of cloistered nuns? What would become of a community thus deprived of all revenue and financial security? Innocent was thinking of Clare, thinking of how she lay dying, her one wish and desire unfulfilled. He did not send her a message of comfort and his blessing. Under the inspiration, no doubt of~ the Holy Spirit, he grasped his pen, signed the Bull of approval con-taining her Rule; and then, with his retinue, turned his face toward Assisi. There at San Damiano he entered tl~e lowly cell of Clare and placed in her hands the approval for which she had prayed and 169 SISTER M. IMMACULATA Re~evo :or Religious ~)leaded and suffered for over f.orty years. We can imagine" the astonishment of Clare and her Sisters when the Holy Father himself stood at the convent portals. How she must have pre,ssed that docu-ment to her heart and sung her last hymn of love to Christ her Spouse. Clare had imbibed th.e spirit of Francis at its source, .cher-ishing it firmly and wholly, and bequeathing it to her Daughters as they knelt at her death bed. And they have cherished, loved, and guarded it. They have preserved it unchanged since 1253. Through 700 years the Rule of Saint Clar~ has often been buffeted by storms, and has been wounded at times by the infidelity of her children, but it has always emerged in its first freshness and .strength. It still lives in 1953, and today there.are 19 houses of Poor Clares in the United Stat~s. Our modern age has not been able to undermine the observance of the Rule nor destroy its spirit. The order has grown silently, spreading its branches in neaily every country of the world. No nationality but has found the Rule and its spirit congenial, so that the daughters of Saint Clare scattered throughout the countries of the world have always been able to adapt themselves to her Rule, which .has proved .independent of time or place. Today our American girls still observe the Rule Innocent IV placed in the hands 0f the dying foundress. " What is the spirit, contained in the Rule of Saint Clare? As. in ¯ her own time, her Daughters live a contemplative life in strict en-closure. The spirit, one of poverty, love of prayer leading to closest union with God, is joyous, and their personal sanctification is as much for the efficacious gaining of gra~e for"soul~ as for the strength-ening of the bond of love in the order. It is a life of joyful giving, closing the doors to what the world calls pleasure by the vow of en-closure, thus finding the treasure which is worth more than all pos-sessions. Though it embraces the deprivation of "the things the world de-sires and cherishes, this seclusion with its penance does not entail a sad, bleak; and joyless existence. It is not the thing~ that are barred from the cloister which bring peace and joy to the soul, but those that are found within, of which the world knows nothing. There is song in the heart of the cloistered nun. for she is not burdened with the superfluous gadgets and noises which fill so many hours of our com-plex modern life. Saint Francis has been coi~sidered a model of penance and self-abnegation, but was ever saint more joyous? Hadever a saint a heart 170 ,July, 1953 SPIRIT OF ST. CLARE more full of music? His seemed to be an overflowing fountain of happiness, and he communicated it to those around him. In this, as in all else, Saint Clare was his faithful follower. Penance for her was not practiced for penance's sake. It was an outlet for the love burning in her heart ,and reaching out for more adequate fuel to feed its flame. This joyous spirit still pervades the cloisters where the Daughters of Saint Clare follow in her footsteps and observe her Rule. Their hearts are the cups that still hold the happiness of which the world has now so little, because their lives are still spent in genuine love and wholehearted giving. The worlff today is filled with sorrow and suffering,, and count: less hearts.are bearing a burden they could well consider supreme penance, did they but think of accepting all in a spirit of penance. The heart's most loving, if inarticulate, acceptance of penance is the willing b~aring of the unwelcome burdens so often placed on it by God. To be silent and lovingly resigned is always, to practice pen-ance in a very perfect form. The Daughters of Saint Clare vowing a Rule which imposes manypenances are but reaching out for greater love, ~vhich is warded With greater joy in God's service. Penance is not ugly, harsh, and fearsome. The bell which call~ one to ri~e from welcome sleep to seek the light of the sanctuary in the dead of night may sound un-welcome to a tired body: but is theie anything rfiore beautifuf_than the religious wending their silent 'way to the choir to make their first act of adoration before their Lord in the taberf.acle when the day has just begun? Standing in their stalls, they offer the praise of virgins before the face of~God, a prayer with the Son of God, ",bhile the world sleeps or sins. Does anyone know the joy in the hearts of those who give Him this homage? So it is with all the penances.prac7 ticed by the Daughters 6f Saint Clare. Penance for penance's sake is repugnant, meaningless, and very often food- for pride and phari-saism, so entirely alien to the spirit of Saint Clare. Penance for "love's sake is sweet. If there are still hearts in the world today which know unalloyed joy, they are undoubtedly those whose lives are being poured out in the most unselfish and wholehearted giving. Their joy is most full because their lives are most full of giving. The transition from the life of our modern girl to a postu!a~nt the cloister is not so drastic as some would suppose. Young, eager, lighthearted, with a soul attuned to God's grace, she assumes by slow degrees the duties and customs to which she adapts herself. She learns 171 SISTER M. IMMACULATA Review for Religious to love the hours of prayer, the Divine Office, the silence and regu-larity, The joyous acceptance of the sacrifices imposed by the Rule creatds a deep happiness and peace, which is found" especially in the hours of prayer. Prayer is not a ready-made gift in anyone. It en-tails mortification, is often itself mortification, but a mortification that decreases as the spirit of prayer and union with God increases There are no secrets of rapid progress over the rough path that leads to union with God, except the secret of persistent self-abnegation and striving for that wlsich obliterates self, and builds up in us the Christlikeness which alone makes us one with Him. But God does not lure us into the wilderness of. the contemplative life to forsake us and l'eave us to our own helplessness. True, we seem to take a leap in the dark When we embrace the contemplative life, but our Lover is not a human being whom we fear to trust. Like Clare who left her castle home in the dead of night, her Daughters follow where their Divine Spouse leads, and the path. is ever to union with God and the embrace of the Holy Spirit. While the enclosed life of contemplation should not be glamor-ized, neither should it be made a fearful existence df joyless sacrifice and penance. Too often is either mistake made. Those who look for a thrill rush to embrace what they do not understand, looking for something occult, dxpecting tangible thrills of gra.ce or ecstatic prayer before they have hid anything like the foundations of the spiritual life. On the other hand, ferszent though timid souls are often over-come by fear of what may be expected of them once they step behind the cloister walls. Neither is the correct attitude. Those to whom God gives a vocation to the contemplative life, have, nearly always, a natural yearning for God. They want Him, are looking for means of. union with~Him, "have a certain joy in prayer, and, with the light affd guidance of the Holy" Spirit, find pehce of soul in the difficult stretchds of the way as well as happiness in His tornforts. Union with God is a growing state, and though it often advances in dark-ness there are times when it comes into the light, and a light that does not fade entirely even when the way is again through dryness. There is too much emphasis put on the trials, sufferings, and dark-ness of the interior life and not enough on the joy in God and peace Of soul found therein. It has been said that Saint Clare, had she lived in our day, would have founded a missionary order. No Daughter of hers would ever consent to this opinion. Clare knew without a doubt to what she 172 dulg, 1953 SPIRIT OF ST. CLARE was called and she never wavered. She did not simply follow a pat-tern of her time. Indeed, we know that a number of:Benedictine houses, especially the large one at Florence, took the Rule of Saint Clare. It was Agnes, her sister, who was sent there to be the abbess under the new Rule. Francis knew Clare was a contemplative, as he was himself, and the hearts of both were so much the missionary's that no field of labor would ever satisfy' their zeal. Nothing less than the entire world would be Clare's mission field, as it was that of Francis and his Order. Italy and Assisi were no closer to her than the farthest-flung mission. No contempla.tive is one indeed if she has not' the heart of a missionary. Francis's was the call to go out and preach,. Clare's the outstretched arms of a Moses on the mount of contemplation. Clare would give to Christ, her Spouse, not only herself, but all the world. She'knew the fields were white for the harvest and she would obey the words of Christ and pray that the Master send laborers into it. He did not bid her go out and gather it in, bu~ strengthen the arms of the workers. She knew the limita-tions of her own weakness, but prayer and sacrifice, united with the prayer of Christ in the Divine Office, in in~erior love and union, were and are the all-powerful weapons which can reach the opposite ends of the earth at one and the same time. It was the spirit of Clare. as it was the spirit of Francis, to be daring enough to wish to support the Church, on her own weak shoulders, knowing that the Hands and Heart of her Divine Spouse were supporting her. The Spirit of Saint Clare, the foundress of the "Poor Clares, is still living and burning brightly after seven centuries. It calls to the heart cJf the modern girl of our cities as it did t6 those of the middle ages. The life she and Francis instituted for her Daughters is not outmoded in the 20th century, but instead is as living, warm, and joyous in the hearts of the novices of ~oday as in the days of Saint Clare in the little monastery of San Dami~no in 1253. ST. CLARE PLAY BY A POOR CLARE Candle in Umbria is the story of Saint Clare of /~ssisi told in a verse play by a Poor Clare Nun. The play of four acts, eight scenes is suitable for production by college :students or by high schools with special direction. The play was written to honor the foundress of the Poor Clares on the seventh centenary (1953) of her death. The authi~r is a regular contributor to Spirit magazine. ~$1.00 per copy, including the music for the "Canticle of the Sun" which is embodied in the play. Those interested in obtaining a copy of this productior~ should write to: Poor Clare Monastery, Route 1, Box 285 C, Roswell, New Mexico. 173 News and Views Yocational Institute at Fordl~am The Third Annual Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Voca-tions will be held by. the School of Education, Fordham University, Wednesday, July 29, and Thursday, July 30, on the Fordham. campus. Ways of encouraging, fostering, and guiding vocations~.to the diocesan priesthood an/d to the religious life will be~ discussed by outstanding experts. For further information write to Rev. John F. Gilson,.S.J.,' Fordham Univ. Sch6ol of Education, 302 Broad-way, New York 7, N.Y. ,~ Institute of Spirituality At the National Congress of Religious, held last summer at the .University of Notre Dame, it ,was suggested that the University offer summer school courses in spiritual theology and an institute of spir-ituality each year for the Sisterhoods. This suggestion was favorably received by the representati(,es of the Sacred Congrdgation of Reli-gious and by th.e religious superiors who attended the congress. To carry the suggestion into effe~0 the Notre Dame Department of Religion is inaugurating this summer a program of courses in spir-itual- theology as part of its graduate work in view of a Master's De-gree in Religion. Moreover, since many superiors and mistresses of novices are unable to be present for the summer school, courses, the University is offering a distinct. Institute of Spirituality for them. This is also sponsored by the Department of Religion. The Institute is not a part of the academic program and offers no credits towards a degree. All the lectures and discussions are specially arranged for Sisters superior and novice mistresses. A~ the formal opening of the Institute, on the evening of July 31, His Excellency,. the Most Reverend John F. O'Hara, C.S.C., D.D., will deliver the address. From August I to 7, there will be three lectures each morning. Topics and speakers for these series of lectures are: "'The Role of the Sister Superior and Novice Mistress," by Rev. Paul Philippe, O.P.; "The Theology of the Religious Life and the Vows," by Rev. Joseph Buckley, S.M.; and "Ascetical and Mystical Theology," by Rev. Charles Corcoran, C.S.C. Each after~ noon, August 1-6, the three lecturers will cbnduct workshops on their subject-matter. On four evenings, August I-4, there will be 174 Julg, 1953 NEws AND VIEWS special lectures, running simultaneously, as follows: "The Liturgy and the R~ligious Life," by Rt. Rev. Martin Hellriegel; "Canon Law for Religious," by Rev. Romaeus O'Brien, O.Carm.; and "Psycho-physiology and Religious Sisterhoods," by Rev. Gerald Kelly, S.J. The Institute will close on the morning of August 7 with an address by Very Rev. Theodore M. He.sbargh, C:S.C., President of the Uni-versity of Notre Dame. Morol Theology ond Love There was a day when the science of Christian moralit~r included everything that is now partitioned into moral theology, ascetical the-ology, and mystical theology: in othei~'words, it included the entire Christian life, in all its degreesof perfection. Bdt the very growth of the su,bject-matter made some kin~i of division necessary, at least for teaching purposes. This division more or less limited moral the-ology to the sphere of what is obli~Tator(/: tb the study of laws, of the exact limits of the obligations imposed by the laws, to the.conditions which might constitute exemptions from these laws. and so foith. There is one great advantage of this ~partiti0n: it makes a dear distinction between what is obli~Tator~l and what is superero~lator~t; and this distinction is ext~rbmely important for the preservation of peace of soul. Nevertheless, from the point of view of moral the-ology, there is also a decided disadvantage: the science is made to ap-. pear too negative. Perhaps every student and professor of moral the-ology has been conscious of this disadgantage, and perhaps many of them h:~ve tried to find some way of introducing a more.positive and inspirational dement into moral theology without, of course, scaring its basic clarity. Father G. Gilleman, S.J., a Belgian Jesuit who teaches theology in India, suggests that moral theology can gain its necessary inspira-tional note by emphasizing charity as the very soul of the Christian life--which it truly is, whether in the sphere of obligation or' of supererogation. Those who ire'intdr~sted in improving.the method of moral theology should nbt fail to read Father Gilleman's book. The title is, Le primat de la charitd en thdologlie morale. It is pob-lished by E. Nauwelaerts, Louvain, Belgium. The price is 225 Bel-gian fr'ancs. $t. Joseph Research Center A St. Joseph" Research and Documentation Center has been estab-lished at St. Joseph's Oratory, Montreal 26, Quebec. The constitu- 7.5 NEWS AND VIEWS tions of this organization have the approval of His Eminence, Paul Cardinal Lel~er, Archbishop of Montreal. The purpose of the so-ciety is to encourage a more profound study of the position of St. 2o-seph, and eventually to subsidize works published on the saint. It will sponsor research in fields such as church history, liturgy, and the arts, as well asin theology. Membership is open to' all interested in-dividuals or groups. Inquiries can be sent directly to St. Joseph's Oratory in Montreal or to Rev. F. L. Filas, S.J., at Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago 26, Illinois. Scholarships at Catholic University" The Catholic University of America has made provision for. 160 half-tuition scholarships for post graduate studies for the next aca-demic year. Open to lay men and women, priests, Brothers, and Sisters, the grants/ worth $300 towards 'tuition, will be awarded on the basis of scholastic excellence and financial need of the applicant who is entering on post graduate work. Grants are available in all studies except philosophy, engineering, and architecture. Appli-cants should write to the Registrar, Department G, Catholic Univer- ¯ sity of America, Washington, D.C., for additional details on the program. Office of the Passion in English The Confraternity of the Passion, in answer to many requests, has had The Little Ofl$ce of the Passion of Our Lord desus Christ translated into English and made available in Small booklet form. The booklet may be obtained for 25 cents from the Confraternity of the Passion, Sacred Heart Retreat, 1924 Newburg Road', Louisville, Kentucky', or from any Passionist Monastery. ~ Layos Catholic Records Layos Records is a Hollywood recording company devoted ex-clusively to the production of Catholic records. The first record, " "Act of Contrition," is already in circulation. Original music was composed by Peter; Jona Korn, and the piece is performed by the Roger Wagner Chorale. The company plans to sell the recordings through advertisements in the Catholic press. A five-year schedule calls for the production of a new Catholic record, at six-week inter-vals. The firm is being advised in its musical program by Father John Cremins, head of the music depastment of the Los Angele~s Archdiocese. The record company is anxious to ha~,e suggestions from Catholic music and audio-visual departments regarding the type of material to be recorded. 176 On !:he Particular i:::xamen [EDITORS' NOTE: The first two articles on the particulmr examen .arrive~l almost simultaneously. The fact that the first is from an American Brother studying in Switzerland and the second from a Belgian missionary in India would seem" to indicate, universal interest in this practice of asceticism. The third contribution to this "sytfiposium"'is .from a member of the Jesuit Mission Band of the New Yot;k province. Communications from Our readers that may bring some more hdpful ideas to the practice of the particular examen are: welcome.] William T. Anderson, S.M. UMAN nature is prone tO falling into a rut. Those who lead very ordered lives often become slaves to routine. Religious sometimes feel the deadening effe~ct of routine and.habit: in fact, if we ark not car~eful, we find ourselves going to chapel without any preparation and without ~any aim. Day after day slips by and, before we know it, a year is gone. When .we 'take inventory at the annual-retreat, the shelves of our spiritual warehouse look" bare indeed. Perhaps we ought once in a while to ask ourselves a few embar-rassing questions on our religious duties. The reflections listed below are the result of just such a scrubbing of the~ soul. What effect has particular examen had on me? What is my attitude towards this ex-ercise? What importance has this exercise ir~ the spiritual life? Is there any direct ratio between successful zeal and progress in particu-lar examen? After .asking yourself these questions, try to answer them honestly. Then read on and see whetheroyou agree with the ideas given below. 1. A written record is a "'must" for examen. A record book for examen was insisted on in the novitiate. Over and over we heard how necessary this was. Yetsome 'religious perhapscast their examen book out the window of the car carrying them from the novitiate to the train station. Some of us used it for a while, but then discarded it. And that ~ras the beginning of the end. Perhaps most religious who do not make examen with a record as a help do not make exa-men. I~ this a rash statement? Do .you make examen faithfully without a iecord? Does your personal experience agree with this observation ? 177 "~,VILLIAM T, ./~NDERSON Re~iea2 for Religious 2. The subject for~ examen must be specific. If the subject is not limited to definite occasions during the day, or to specific'times scat-tered oxier the usual schedule, after a time the examen, period becomes' " 6nd during which 6u~ Stomach continually reminds us "that a meal is not,far off, or it is a p~eriod of planning unconsciously our work for the rest of the day or the morrow. Vagueness here is the deadly ene-my of progress. 3. Our apostolic influence is in direct ratio to our efforts at par-ticular examen. We learned in the scholasticate that while knowl-edge is very necessary for a teacher, the more important ingredient for a successful teacher and religious educator was the hbility to get along with people and to attract souls. Anyone who has taught fora few years will attest to the authenticity of this statement. Any one will also agree that teaching boys, especially adolescent b.oys,.can be a very nerve-racking job. Nervous tension may ruin any influence which we might have with students when we use sarcasm or unjust punishments, show favoritism or laxity on some occa-sions, or exercise undue ~ever!ty on others. Examen is the means which we have at our disposal to develop in us that self=control which is so necessary for the teacher. To be kind when words of sarcasm rise to outlips, to be exacting ~h~n we fed sluggish and lazy, to give words of correction which yet, do not cut, to be patient when we have had little sleep or food (as on fast days), ~o work steadily despite the fact that "results" are not forthcoming--is M1 this.poisible without examen? Most prob-ably not. As soon as we stop working at examen, we find ourselves difficult to get along with, harsh, lazy, or sarcastic. The weeds of our defects spring up rapidly'bnce we lay down the hoe of particular exam'en. 4. Particular examen is a sine qua non for communit~l life. All of the.foregoing can be just as well applied to community life. Com-munity life sometimes causes a lot of friction, some heat, and at times, even fire. Examen is the~exercise we need to mold our charac-ters so that we learn to avoid occasions which.cause arguments' or to cement, fraternal relations, once they are broken.~ Community life is sometimes a big cross; there is no need to make Jrbigger for a fellow r~ligious. 5. Examen is one of the best means we have of attaining our ideal, desus,'Son of Marv. Putting off the old man and putting on the new man is quite a job for us weak mortals, afflicted as we.are by 1"78 953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN the effects of original sin. It seems impossible that a religious can be sincere and continue hi~ striving for perfection in religious life with-out keeping up with the daily examen. Progress tgward making ourselves like to Jesus, Son of Mary, is made only by the grace of God and constant striving on,our part. Much of oar progress in the spiritual life proceeds, ex opere operantis. And examen is an excel-lent measuring rod for our own effort. 6. Examen is one of our most poten~t means of recruitment. Stu-dents join our ranks, not because of what we say or what we write. but because o~ what we are. If we are real religious, if we are. happy in the knowledge that we are striving to perfect ourselves,, if we show the acquired virtues of patience, charity, humility, and piety, it is ~mpossible that recruits will not come to us. Is there a. better adver, tisement for the religious life than a real religious, one who is daily advancing in virtue? Holiness attracts. Examen is a potent means of holiness. . Perhaps you do not agree with all or even any of the foregoing reflections. 'Be that as it may, you must admit that, granted that particular examen is necessary, we often negl.ect this important reli-gious exercise. Not only must we strive to be present for the examen each day, but we must make it fruitful by daily striving.~ Growth. in" virtue seems to demand the daily examen. As his particular examen goes, so goes the religious. P. De Letter, S.J. The particular examen i~ a common practice of modern spiritual-ity, As every canonical fiovice knows, it consists in direct.ing atten-tion to a particular point, either a fault to be corrected or some practice of virtue, to be fostered. Popularized if not originated by St. Ignatius~ of Loyola, this has become a common tactic in the spir-itual life. All have a passing acquaintance with it. As proposed in the Spiritual ExWcises, attention is to be focused on the particular examen three times every day: at the morning oblation, in theexam-ination of conscience at noon, and again 'during the evening exam-ination. Through this practice gifferent defects, are "gradually elim-inated and needed virtues acquired. 179 ~ P DE LETTER Remeto for Rehgtous A Fact from Experience Yet some religious do not succeed with the particular examen. They apparently fail to see its use 6r grasp its meaning: At any rate, they draw little, profit from it even whrn they do not drop it alto-gether as a useless formality. This is true even among religious who in no way neglect their interior life. Their failure is not due to wil-ful neglect or to tepidity. They simply do not' see their way to making a success of the practice. . Since sound spiritual writers speak so highly of the worth of the particular examen, it seems desirable to examine some apparent neglect and to revalue._.this spiritual exercise. We may sum up its importance by saying it is a sign of spiritual vitality, especially for those who have spent some years in religion. It may not be all-important m itself, at least when it is thought of and practiced in too narrow a manner. Generally its practice is a good indication that.the interior life is thriving. More often than not, its neglect means alack of spiritual vitality. In a limited sense, fidelity to" the practice of the examen can serve as a barometer reading of spiriti~al fervor. A Restricted Conception of the. Exarnen The formal idea of the particular examen can be applied in two different ways regarding both the choice of the subject matter and the manner of conceiving its pragtice. One way is very concrete and definite, perhaps too mechanical and artificial at least for life-span practice. For instance, we decide on rooting out a habitual fault such as the neglect of silence, resolve to avoid transgressions, and keep a record of the eventually-decreasing faults. Or we concentrate our attention on a specific practice of virtue such as kind interpretation of the actions of others and endeavor to. increase the number of these acts throughout the day, checking at noon and night to see how we have succeeded. This method is very rightly advised in the beginning of the religious life. It is an effective means of correcting exterior faults and defects and of gradually developing a religious way of thinking, speaking, and acting. It is also useful at other periods in life when it is necessary to remedy some faulty way of speaking'or acting that has crept in unnoticed. Another Approach If the particular examen is to measure up to what writers say about it and be a really powerful means of progress, there ought to be another way of conceiving its practice which does justice to its 180 1953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN importance. A number of religious have given the assurance that the following approach "works." Instead of taking just any particular fault or practice of virtue, we should fix on some central interest or need of our spiritual life. If the subiect is important it will less easily be forgotten. Then its !~ractlce, oreferably positive rather than nega-tive, should be conceived in a broad and inclusive manner. By means of the resolve made and renewdd at the three times--morning, noon, and night--we work at gradually penetrating our working day with an ideal or conviction rather than at c.ounting a number of particular acts 6r ,defects. To be more specific, the most suitable ;sub.iect matter for our par-ticul~ r examen is the main resolution or resolutions of our annual re- " treat. When this subiect is properly" chosen, it answers a real need and generMly our great~st one. It may crystallize into some maxim or mqtto. Then the oractice will consist in keeping this before our mind or recalling it when needed and pbssible. We thus slowly come to live in the atmost)here or disposition which our watchword con-veys. ¯ We begin to think, speak, and act accordingly. Some examples are: "The LordIoves a cheerful giver": "Ndt for me, Lord, but for Thee": "To have that mind in you which is in Christ." The prac-tice of framing our resolution in a driving maxim or a quotation from Scripture can be very helpful 'though it is not essential. What is essential is to keep before our mind a definite objective, sufficiently central and important for our personal interior life, such as cannot be lost sight of as long as our effort for spiritual "progress is kept alive. In this method our faithfulness and success in the,practice of the par-ticular examen are the criterion of our vitality and fervor. This will create a .congenial interior climate in which our souls can thrive. The importance of tEis concep~ion of the examen is evident at once. Nor is there any danger that we shall overlook and forget it throughout a busy day. If our work is permeated with a driving spiritual ideal, as it should be if it is to be different from mere secular work, a particular examen that looks after 6ur present main spiritual need will help sustain this retreat-clear inspiration. It is only in moments of forgetfulness when we neglect grace and allow natural-ism to guide our thought or conduct that the particular examen will also suffer from this spiritual thoughtlessness, But the examen itself, by reason of the resolve and the effort it implies, helps to forestall or exclude and .certainly to dimi6ish these "secular moments" in our days. 181 P. DE LETTER Review [or Religious Room [or Varietg We need not fear that this method will leave no room for a helpful variety that will maintain interest. When our particular examen aims at our central, yet definite, spiritual interest or need, its subject, matter can and naturally will take on many different aspects according to the variations of that interest or need, directed both by grace and by our psychology. As a matter of fact, our spiritual needs and interests evolve gradhally according to seasons and circumstances and to the inspirations of grace. These will reveal now one,e, ~now another side which before remained more or less hidden or unnoficed. Moreover, when our retreat resolutio.n, as is gener~ally the case, is not restricted to one but foresees several particular needs, we can alternate the practice and change from one to the other when the 'one seems to have worn out and lost its grip. Later, we can often return to the first with a refreshed outlook and new ardor. ( Dispositions and/or Acts Does this manner of practicing the examen require specific acts as does the first, or may we dispense with these? It may require them and generally does. That depends on the subject matter and on in-dividual dispositions. Some people can maintain a habitual disposi-tion of recollectedness or selflessness without insis(ing on or multiply- , ing definite acts. Others are in need of such acts, which arise spon-taneously from their resolve to be recollected or self-forgetful. spirit of praye.r normally demands some explicit acts of formal prayer; habitual or virtual prayer alone would not be sufficient. Self-lessness, trust, apostolic zeal can be habitual dispositions, but some explicit acts, whether exterior or interior, would not do any harm but would help very much even if they were not altogether necessary. The marking in a book after the noon "and evening check-up, which is generally a real help to our dodging human nature,'is not to be overlooked in this second way. But it need not be done in numer-als. Some people are congenitally poor in.arithmetic. Instead of marking the number of acts or df faults, a gener~al notation may suf-fice, for instance: good, average, poor; or A, B, C; or any way one prefers. When we mean business with our particular examen and make use of all the means to succeed, we still must expect times when our effort will have little success. Some days everything goes well spir-itually; other days it does not. These ups and downs need not be 182 July, 1953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN ; magnified; even in0 the "downs:' our effort can and generally does remain substantially faithful and successful to an extent. This should not be oveHooked: otherwise unwarranted and naive optim-ism may flounder during low moods, Provided our desire and effort .does not flag, even this partly unsuccessful particular examen still marks a steady progress. - The second way of conceiving and. practicing the particular exa-men makes the exercise not just a small device for casual use if it suits but rather an important ~nd obligatory factor in every serious effort for progress. Without it. spiritual life~.slackens if it does not die down. Perhaps we should say that every, fervent life actually keeps this practice of the particular examen, though possibly without giving it that name. Every fervent spirituality is practically boun,d to aim at and concentrate on some definite objective required by the present need. Fervent sduls do so spontaneously. It can only make for better ~esults if they are aware of this law of spiritual vitality and resolve to follow it. Seen in this light, the particular examen-is an essential unit inthe structureof spiritual progress. It is, not just a decorative trifle. We need not fear that this determined and steady effort at lJrog-ress in one particular direction will result in a state of uneasy t~nslon and nervousness. As in the whole spiritual life, so also here, ti~e-de-sire and endeavor for advancement must combine ardor and peace,, earnestness and patience, genuine'effort and disinterested acceptance of the results. For is it not grace that makes our effort possible and suc-cessful? Human endeavor is a subordinate factor. It is no doubt, necessary: grace does ndt replaceit. But it is trust in grace combined with sincerity in not sparing ourselves unduly that makes a burning, yet peaceful ardor possible. The particular examen, understood in this grand and realistic way,, repays, th~ effort we make in a measure which it is impossible,to anticipate. Fidelity to grace is often re-warded beyond human expectation. Gabriel A. Zema, S.J. 1. Let us take, for example, the habit of passing on to a friend or acquaintance our low opinion of the fault or sin 0f another. De-pending on circumstances, the thing may be no sin at all, a.venial, or a mortal sin. Even if no actual sin, it is a habit that belongs to no 183 GABRIEL A. ZEMA lady or gentleman; and it can lead to a lot of trouble. 2. On rising, or after morning prayer, write a figure, say "3," some place where you can again see it at the end of the day. (Even nosey people will never know what "3" stands for.) For you "Y' means you are determined to control your tongue three times that day on the habit you set ouk to break. 3. When you look at the figure at the end of the day while examining your conscience as every sincere re!igious.should--it is pos- Sible you won't know what it stands for yourself. You may even have forgotten you put it there. ,But a little reflection will bring back the breaking-that-habit idea. 4. Very well, begin all over again. On the second day you may find that you have not controlled your tongue even once. Go to the third day more determined than ever. 5. I~eep'up the practice for ten or twelve days. You will find a definite improvement if you are at all serious about it. 6. At the end of ten or twelve days take tip another fault and give it ~he same treatment. Follow the same procedure. After you have worked on three or four faults.--never forgetting to keep im-' proving on them--go back to the first one and see how the patient looks! 7. In morning and evening prayers ask Our Lady to come to your aid. BOOK NOTICE THE INTERIOR CARMEL: THE THREEFOLD WAY OF LOVE, by John C. H. Wu, a very brilliant Chinese. convert, diplomat, and scholar, "wi'll help highly intellectual.lay men and women to raise their spiritual lives of contemplation and divine love td an equal height and to give them something of the lofty mysticism that char-acterized St. John of the Cross. It will also aid very busy religious or priests to make their exterior activities conducive to a ,higher and more intense internal spirit. Interestingly and inspiringly Dr. Wu quotes the ancient Cbiriese sages, Confucius and Mencius, to rein-force the lessons of modern Catholic and Spanish Carmelite mysti-cism. (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1953. Pp. xii + 257. $3.25.) 184 Child Mo!:her: r cious ynt:hesis Mother Winifred Corrigan, r.c. AT HOLY COMMUNION, the soul authentically in love with ~ God, is sometimes conscious of itself as a banq~ethall in which the memorable gospel of the anointing of the Lord's feet by "a sinner" is being reenacted. This soul becomes aware in itself of two sep.arate impulses. One is the generous spirit of the Magdalen, utterly expending self for the beloved Master, freely offering to spend its best years in obscurity or lovingly giving its body to be burned. The other impulse, also within .the soul, is viewing, rea-soning, even objecting: "To what purpose is this waste?" It is the soul speaking in terms of the apostle 3udas, not yet the traitor, who prudently considers the extravagance of broken alabaster."For this might have been sold for much, and given to the poor." That Our Blessed Lord openly favored and approved the sym-bolic self-surrender ~f Mary Magdalen, the sinner, we know. "The poor you have always with you but me you have not.always." We have experienced, too, bow the logic of Divine Wisdom reconciles our opposing desires and restores equilibrium. "Thy. sins are for-given thee. Thy faith hath'made thee safe, go in peace." Devotion to Mary performs a similar function. It tends to unify two spiritual realities sometimes thought to be at variance: the doctrines of spir-itual" cbildbood and spir!tual motherhood. Why are these doctrines ever considered incomigatible? In the natural order, it is plain that the two states, childhood and mother-hood, are not in opposition. Obviously, the same person can be both child and mother. The basic concept, mother, one who merci-fully sustains the life of her offspring ("do not kill it"), is unfor-gettably presented to us as illustrating the wisdom of Solomon. "Give the living Child to this woman.for she is the mother there-of." This concept of mother ~choes the first woman's name, Eve, mother of the living. The concept of child, in the Divine Mind, is expressed for us in the Fourth Commandment. In the Book of Ec-clesiasticus (Chapter 3) the blessings of fruitfulness and long life are promised in detail to the loving, obedient child. Writing to his dear Ephesians, St. Paul confirms this divine revelation for New Testa- 185 MOTHER WINIFRED CORRIGAN Review for Religious merit times.- "Children, obey your parents in. the Lord, for this is just. Honor thy father and thy mother, which is the first command-ment with a prorriise: that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest be long lived upon earth." Thus, for the Christian, it is natural for the faithful child to become fruitful, nor would the sacrifice of mar- ¯ riage and family usually be required in order to keep the Fourth Commandment. In the supernatural order, the harmonious' sequence between the roles of child and mother is less apparent. In making ready to lighten up the mists by reference to M.ary, it may be well to clarify the meaning of the terms, spiritual childhood and spiritual mother-hood, according to Scripture and the lives of the saints. Spiritual Childhood Our Lord has strongly set forth the reality, even. the necessity of spiritual childhood. "Amen, I say to you, unless you be converted, and become as little, children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." He then counsels the humility of a little child for his disciples, and for all who would be "greater in the kingdom of heaven." The reality of spiritual motherhood is presented for us in the forceful language of St. Paul. "My little dhildren," he wrote to the Galatians, "of whom I am in labor again, until Christ be formed in you." His apostolic cry for souls re-echoes the appeal of the Divine Lover, heard in the Old Testament (Isaias 49:15). There it tran-scends rather than distinguishes itself from the pangs of .natural motherhood. "Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her wombs. And if she should forget, y.et will I not forget thee/' Amid the miracles of Our Lord Jesus Christ, we find this divine, motherly concern for human needs manifesting itself in a sweet, considerate way. He took the hand of Jairus' 12"-year-old daughter and raised her from the dead. Then, having counselled her parents to secrecy, he "commanded that something should be given her to eat." Some of tl'Je saints have discovdred the .beautiful qualities of spir-itual childhood and spiritual motherhood.contained in the above and similar passages. At Holy Communion, they have explored the mystery of their Eucharistic Lord .entering the human body, resting there like a helpless, unborn child, in order to nourish the life of the soul. The Divine Word, repeating the mother's cry: "Do not kill 186 Jul~,1953 GRACIOUS SYNTHESIS it!" 'daily fulfills His own promise: "The bread that I will give. is my flesh, for the life of the world." The saints have understood how, by their very self-effacement, by being belittled and becoming as little children, they too can maternally assis~ in the birth, growth, and' development of the Mystical Body. St. Th~r~se of the Ch'ild Jesus (1873-1897) has renewed the interest of the modern world in the doctrine Of spiritual.childhood: Her position as youngest child of the Martin family and her early entrance into religious life preserved in her soul the true attitude of a child. How this spirit of utter dependence on her heavenly Father helped her to fulfill her maternal duties as nox}ice mistress to the souls "who came to me asking for food," she tells with unique charm in her Autobiographgt (p. 213). Her present title of patroness of the missions suggests the breadth of her spiritual moFherh0od, hidden deep in her youth and Carmel. No discordant contrast is the spirituality of Blessed Th~r~se Couderc (1805-1885), foundress of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Retreat in the Cenacl~. As the oldest girl in a large family and as young superior of a religious community, sloe early developed the valiant traits characteristi(of spiritual motherhood. Then. con-sequent upon bet consecration to Our Lady, shesaw her responsibili-ties removed and she went down willingly into years of oblivion. In her 60th year, Blessed Th~r~se or, as we know her better, Mother Th~r~se, had emerged from the darkness of humiliation and failure, to find herself a humble, cherished adorer confronted with the holi-ness of God. "He treats me always." she wrote at this time, "like a child who would not have the strength to bear trials, Also the sweetness He makes me feel in His service makes me forget and bear all." This is the stage at which she detailed her doctrine of self-surrender. While it graduall~ led her into the thicket of unitive suffering and reparation, she continued to call it an easy means of sanctification, noting that there is "nothing so sweet to practice.': Marg, the Ideal The ideal of self-surrender is Our Lady of the Cenacle. It is Our- Blessed Mother in th~ last. perhaps 15-year, epoch of her earthly life. She has already received her Divine son's formal commission for the motherhood of mankind, on Calvary. In the Cenacle or "upper room," by a mother's persevering prayer and a claild's anonymity- ("who when she was first of all became-the last" St. Bernard), 187 COMMUNICATIONS ReotetO [or Reltgtot~s Mary continues to attract us to the sublime by the gracious synthesis of her life. In religious life, Mary's spirit is learned and gained in a'variety o.f ways: perhaps in the shared intimacy of Holy Communion, perhaps in the fragrant solitude of a retreat. Our Lady is ever the, true child ,and the true mother. Her spirit, '!meek and strong, zealous and prudent, humble and courageous, pure and fruitful," imparts to us our own proper measure of both these roles. When we have reverently analyzed ~and appreciated the doctrines of spiritual childhood and spiritual motherhood, we may be allowed to accommodate an angel's words as our simple directive,. "Take the Child and His mother." Thus, sincere, day to day imitatio'n of Our Blessed Mother. gradually becomes our meaningful response to an ever more imRerative invitation. We then find that we have tended to integrate in our spiritual .life the two ways'of which Mary, our model, is the gracious synthesis. Reverend Fathers: I agree with Sr. Ma~y Jude', 0.P., in her articl~, "The Summa for Sisters" (March, 1953), that a study of the works of St. Thomas would help our Sisters become better religious and better teachers However, I do not agree with Sister regarding "the distinctive phe-nomenon of the active orders today." Professed religious who are seeking admission to contemplative orders are a growing concern of the Church, but they are not a phe-nomenon. They are the logical result of the transition that has been taking place within active orders. Truly "their final profession is far enough behind," but a glance at those former days may illuminate the darkness, mistrust, and mis-understanding that surrounds them. When ~hey entered religious life the goal was one--it was clear-cut, that is, perfection which would I, mean intimate union with God. During their novitiate and perhaps I' for the first ten years of their religious life their concentrated all their it efforts to attain this end. Then stress was not on education, nursing, i! or Catholic Action, but on the presence of God and the pursuit of I virtue; however, because of pressure from without, the change of l 188 duly, 1953 COMMUNICATIONS standards, and the requirements by the St'ate, professional knowledge, ability, and skill became a necessity. Therefore. higher education with Saturday and weekday classes was added to teaching, plus parent-teacher m~etings, sodalities, public relation groups, discussion clubs and first~id courses. These religious lack neither intelligence nor good will. They readily admit with St. Thomas the greatness of the charity of the apostolate. Theylive, for the most part, lives of self-renunciation and sacrific6. Other,wise they would not be seeking admission to the cloister.- Nor are they seeking only the joys of contemplation. Most of them would gladly spend themselves and be spent in the apostdlate if they could still be c~rtain that their union with God was increasing not decreasing. But the signs point in the opposite direction. Let us look at one of these Sisters of fifteen y~ars ago. Today, instead of the one goal of 'union with God, she has another, that of professional competence. What has happened to her.as a result? First, the intensity of her desires and her efforts in the spir~itual life has naturally been weakened by her concentration on her work. Second!y, the virtues of the interior life, silence, and recollection do not have the opportunity for development they had in fdrmer days. Distractions in one form or another and activity hinder their growth. Thirdly, the virtues of the hiddefi life have become watery. They lack the positive yirility that so characterizes interior souls. She is in the world and does not wish to be of the world, yet its spirit of ac-tivity and distraction are now hers. ~ Viewing these results, she finds a growing conviction that her. spiritual life is deprived of the degree of vitality that once was hers and thai the culprit is activity. From this conviction flows the fear that her work and its accessories are separating her from Christ. It is not the fear of a neurotic; it is a well:founded fear that demands recognition and attention. No zealous religious desires to go to heaven alone; no thinking religious denies the value of the apostolic life,, but there is much ac-tivity in the life of the religious today that could not conceivably be put in the category of Apostolic. Those who strive to unite prayer and action as St. Paul and St. Thomas, St. Catherine and St, Teresa of Avila did, find they fall short of the ideal, in fact they fail. Tl~is is not just subjective thinking. It can be proven without much spiritual examination. As in nations, so in groups, and so with the individual, the pe- 189 COMMUNICATIONS ~" riod of adjustment is 'fraught with dangers. These must not be spurned. They should be recognized and analyzed. It is the chal- . lenge of our age. , The desire for contemplation is rapidly growing in America, not o~ly.in orders of women but also among men. We have a Father Moore, a Father Raymond, and a Father Merton, to name only a few outstanding ones, to prove this. Not only is contemplation sought by' religious in active orders, but so many young, eager Americans have sought admission to the Trappist Monastery in Kentucky that they .have had to build five new foundations in a short time, The Carthusians, stiil in their infancy in America, have a waiting list. All. this is significant. ¯ Would Sr. Mary Jude say all these people were exceptions, or that they lack the ability to find the delicate balance between prayer and work. I doubt it. Looking at it from this' broader .point of view, we see that this cbndition of which~ Sister M, Jude speaks i~ only a branch of a much larger river that is sweeping America from coast to coast. If we wish to insure the vitality and growth of our active orders, we must see that. the desire for intimate union 'with Christ is given outlets and opportunities for development, .even if it means the curtailment of many activities. We can do without the latter, but without the for-mer all action is but sounding brass and tinklilag cymbals. --A SYMPATHIZER. "BLESSED BE HER GLORIOUS ASSUMPTION" .On December 23, 1952, Our Holy Father, Pope Pius XII, decreed that the in-vocation printed above is.to be added, to'the Divine Praises whenever they are re-cited after Mass or'after Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.' In the official publi-cation of this decree, which appeared in the Acti~ Apostolica Sed~'s under date of March 21, 1953, vol. 45, p. 194, it was stated that this new invocation should be inserted after the invocation "!Blessed be~ th~ Name of Mary Virgin and Mother." However, L'Osseroatore Romano for April 9 contained a correction, issued by the Sacred Congregation of Rites on Apr!l 8, to the effect that it should be inserted im-mediately after the other invocation: ',',Blessed be her Holy and Immaculate C.oncep, tion." ,. The ob'.i~ati0n of inserting this new. invocation into the Divine Praises begins on dune 21, 1953, that date being three months from the date of the ACtu Apos-tolicae Sedis in which the decree appeared, in conformity with canon 9 of the Code of Canon Law. We take this occasion to remind our readers that on Oc~0ber 31-, 1950, in con-nection with the formal definition, Pope Pius XII decreed that the invocation Queen assumed into f-leaven should be added to the Litany of Loretto after the ~'oCation "Queen conceived without original :sin." At the same time he also up-, proved a new Mass which is to replace the Mass formerly said on the Feast of the Assumption. 190 I Spiri :ual Progress and Regress Charles A. Nash, S.J. AN IDEA as old as St, Augustine, and. rebbrn in Rodriguez, pic-tures the spiritual life "as a ,b~all of string you are carefully winding up. IL once you drop it, it readily unwinds, and it takes a long time and much effort to .wind it up again. This same idea, on a natural plane, permeates the business day of six thousand psychiatrists in the United States who have become profoundly, interested in what happens once the ball of life is dropped and starts to unwind. Their technical name for it is regression or the reversal of t~ae normal steps Of growth. Regression is of such paramount im-portance in psychiatry that it is often .defined as "the science of re-gressive phenomena." The aim of this article is to picture regression in the spiritual life and.to use psychiatric data in order to empha.size certain psychological factbrs that underlie spiritual progress. " Because it is their.daily, business, psychiatrists today are fast be-coming experts in the delicate art of character change or the forward step to maturity, As modern scientific.innovators in an ancient field. these medical specialists have made many valuable scientific investi-gations and acquired much practical experience in the last twenty-five years. Religious ark wise to profit by some of their ideas on regress and pr,og~ess toward maturity 'which have a direct practical bearing on the religiou~ life. Like the psychiatrist, a religious, too, practices daily the delicate art of character change, but be aims at a greater spiritual maturity. The forward progress at which a psy-chiatrist aims in treating his patient strikes a close parallel to the for-ward progress of a religious in the spiritual life. Both involve a gradual change of character. Psychiatrists must know character change in two directions, both Zegre~s and progress. The classic exampl,e of regression or unwinding in human life is old age. We are often a casual witness when time, by its slow process, lays its fingeron a man. We have watched elderly PerSons gradually drop things most cherished in !ife, one by one. first a man b~gins to lose the wide ifiterests he once had. Sports no longer interest him; he stops traveling is much as he used to; his friendships narrow dow.n; interest in his daily, work begins to lag. All gradually culminate in his retirement.1 If he.k~eps his mind open '~Leland El Hinsie?Concepts and Problems of Ps~ychotherapg, p. 124: Understand-able Psgchiatrg, chapter on "Regression." * 191 ¯ CHARLES A. NA~H Reoietu for Religious and pliant and is ready to welcome whatever the future may bring, the elderly pers.on often mqves gracefully through his last years. Often enough, however, his mind closes up and he loses track of the day and the hour. He becomes hostile to what is new, to change, to innovation, closing off hislmind to the future. In the ,course of time he may become self-centered and petulant, and fall back upon the 'manners of his childhood, then of his infancy. He may have to be bathed, fed, dressed, assisted in walking. For him it is a haven of repose, a citadel of safety. He has reverted to his "second child-hood" and regressed to the activities of an infant. Besides the com-plete unwinding of habits of maturity in "second childhood," there are many pictures of partially unwound habits which are but-smaller portraits on a much reduced scale. Unwinding Spiritual Life Complete spiritual regression can be 'seen in-the nominal of "fallen-away" Catholic of any age who knows his religion but drops. its practice entirely. The unwinding spiritual, life runs down a path more or_ less parallel to "old age and ~econd childhood." The ¯"fallen-away" .Catholic's practical interest in religion slowly wanes, and he gradually closes off his mind to religion, becoming spiritually self-centered. One by one he drops the religious practices he once cher-ished. -Sunday is like any other day; the churchdoor remains ever .i:los~d. He stops going to Mass; he falls away from the Sacraments: his prayer life diminishes to a minimum or none at all. Gradually, his acquired spiritual habits Unwind until he is back to "childhood," where spiritual obligations and.moral responsibilities are at a mini-mum. He has traded away God for careless, vacant ioaming. As far as religion is concerned, he is once' again like a small boy, sans reason and his seventh birthday. Instead of progressing to an ever greater possession of God, he has gone backwards. Here, too, miniature por-traits of regression are quite common in the spiritual life where a spiritual habit or two may start to unwind. Progress and regress follow definite patterns. .One is a dynamic, forward-moving pattern toward maturity; the other moves back-ward down the path a man has come up, Life experience normally present~ the picture of a continuum of, forward growth along a life-line which falls into natural periods: birth, childhood,, adolescence, young manhood, adulthood, change of life, and decline. It is the common lot of mortal man to :crown his numberless daily experi- 192 Jul~j, 1953 PROGRESS AND REGRESS ences with.an ever greater maturity. This growing maturity is dearly won through countless small successes. In sharp contrast, the re-gression pattern, at any age and at any level of development, is a're-versal of the' normal steps of growth along', this life-line. Read the life-line forward and you have progress; read it backward and you have regression. Psychiatrists'~tell us that every man takes a backward step now and then. No one, save Christ our Lord and His Blessed Mother, is co,mple.te master of his every action. For religious, the single back-ward step may occur in problems of obedience,' the daily order, pov-erty, t~he practice of virtue, the daily rosary, spiritual reading--to name but a few possibilities. The single backward step is not. so significant. When this backward step becomes a definite pattern, then real spiritual regression is beginning. But despite" occasional backward steps, psychiatrists say the nor-real person is about ninety per cent adjusted to life.~ About ten per "cent of life he cannot quite master and he dodges it in one way or another. In other words, man's daily batting average is about .900; the ratio of small successes in life to small failures is about ninety to ten. Whether saint or sinner, some failure pursues him every day, but success (forward progress) definitely predominates in his actions. Dgnamic Equilibrium Because he is fundamentally successful but always carries some failure in tow, the average person strikes a balance with life. He reacts in terms of an equilibrium--a dynamic, forward-moving equilibrium in which progressive factors predominate, ,but regressive ones are also present. This equilibrium ,is built into the very struc-ture of his mind through the years. It is his own practical system of reacting to life, his working method of dealing with experience de-rived ,from his past.psychological history. Psychiatrists have learned~ to investigate this equilibrium scientifically and now actually measure it,.with~scientific formulas,a When it breaks down, regression begins. If it does not break down, progress continues. ~This figure refers to the over-all or.comprehensive picture of all man's actions in meeting life. Personal success in one particular action, however, may vary from mastery, to littleor no control. Leland E. Hinsie, Concepts and Problems of Pay-. chotherapt./, p. 77. Edward A. Strecker, Fundamentals of Ps~/chiatr~/, graph on p. 231, 3E~lward A. Strecker, Fundamentals of Psv. chiatr~t, p. 51. Franz Alexander and H~len Ross, Dgnamic Psgchiatrg, p. 140. CHARLES A. NASH Reoieto for Religious This dynamic equilibrium produces manifold effects. It gives an even tenor to, man's ways and stability to his character. It embeds past success in the human system for'future successful operation. As a result, whatever a man does in his normal day leaves most of his old order standing. A singld act, forward or backward, leaves most of his autobiography of character largely unchanged. Occasional back-ward steps are readily tolerated and absorbed without throwing the forward motion offstride. Because of it, a major change of character. occurs slowly. A spiritual character change requires many actions over a considerable period of time. In many aspects of life this equilibrium acts as a shock-absorber, an internal ,resistance built right into the structure of personality for resisting the "blows of outrageous foitune." For instance, a death in the family may score a temporary psychological and emotional knockout in other members of the family~. But soon the pendulum swings back to normal and old habits take over once again. Gradu-ally, the appreciation of life built up through the years prevails, and life goes forward once more. Because of his equilibrium, a man does not deteriorate psychologically at one major blow, nor can ,he turn himself'inside out, for better or worse, overnight. Role o~ Failure After much failure or long-enduring stress, this same personal balance or equiliblium can wear thin or even "break down." When this occurs, the backward pattern of regression slowly begins. Then, a religious falls back upon lower and lower levels of his spiritual life, and becomes beset by earlier and earlier habits of his career. The first failure is easy to take, but not a series of them. Failtire is hard on morale, and daily failure has a numbing effect on our effort. The effect of failure is to close off the mind to the difficulty and 0fall back upon.earlier habits. After repeated failure, for instance, a religious may gradually close off his mind to formal mental prayer, and fall back upon his earlier habits when mental prayer was not part of the daily schedule. All spiritual regression has one point in common: it is a back-ward step to an earlier and easiei adjustment to the difficulties of the spiritual life. At the, same time, unfortunately, spiritual progress either slows down or stops. Part of the goal drops out of the picture "for the present," and there is a partial farewell to hopes of greater things. Instead of the "new man in Cl~rist," it is a return to the 194 PROGRESS AND REGRESS "old man" of self when spiritually less mature. The significance of regression in the spiritual life is that it sounds the knell of forward progress. Continued progress requires that a religious take failure~ in stride. Often small successes in life become so integrated into a religious per-sonality that they almost go unnoticed. We only see and take note of our failures, and they can come to loom large on the daily hori-zon. After repeated failure, therd is danger that a religious will close his mind and chart his future course by past failure. The true measure of the future, bower(r, is past success. There is no small touch of humility and wisdom in expecting some daily failure and not charting our future course by it. Man normally moves forward in a dynamic equilibrium with a ninety per-cent rate of success. American Stgiritualitg The pace or tempo of character chahge is a slow one. Being' American-minded, we naturally expe.~t rapid results. The very at- . mosphere of our times--an era of modern machine .efficiency, high- 13ressure business methods, production miracles, and high-speed travel--promotes an ingrained bent toward immediate success. Rightly' or wrongly, we feel there should be a twentieth-century ¯ masterkey to the spiritual life, a foolproof device as dependable ?s the multiplication table. Yet strangely enough, our spiritual life seems to move at the tempo of the first centuiy in a twentieth-century World. True character change may be hard to see. We Americans see the, entrancing picture of industrial production, but we look upon spiritual progress in our own lives as a vague or blank picture. Sanc-tifying grace and internal actual grace are both intangible and invis-ible. We sow the representative crops, the seeds of humility, love of God, obedience, and the other virtues, yet always wonder2--when's the harvest? To see results, we often make one good resolution suc-ceed another in rapid succession, turning our spiritual life into a series of short-term cycles, partly for variety, partly to convince ourselves that we are getting somewhere and making progress. But after six months of short-term cycles we are ready to doubt whether we are changed an iota. That old spiritual problem which we settled once, and for all two weeks ago somehow surges back to life again today. A series of .these experiences can readily warp ore: spiritual judgment or ~lgrudence and lead to loss of effort and discouragement. Then 195 CHARLES A. NASH Review for Religious failure charts our course. Being constitutiOnall~y successful, we shift our effort to some more promising line of_ endeavor, and the spirit of' spiritual progress becomes like a ghost on the outermost rim of the real business of daily living. 200-300 Hours Psychiatrists have much this same time-problem. How much time is required to make a permanent change in a patient's character~ How long to turn a man around and start him forward again on the life-line to maturity? A considerable body of evidence indicates that it takes two hundred to three hundred hours, roughly speaking; to make a permanent character change.4 This means one hour a day, seven days a week for about nine months devoted to making the change, whate;cer that change may be. No matter how un-American it may sound, there seems to be normally no substitute for time in a 'permanent character change. Even if our minds thunder and rever-berate in syllogisms, it still takes from two to three hundred hours to drive' the lesson home permanently and to relate it in experience to the concrete parts of life. A religious may profitably add a bit of timing to his spiritual motor; Permanent growth is not like reading through a spiritual book in three or four days ~nd expecting the result; it is more l,!ke the slow, nine-months' nurturing of the child in the mother's womb. It is not the work of a day or a week, but it finds a closer parallel in the one hour a day for nine months thata student devotes, say, to mathe-matics ~r history or language in school. Putting on a facet of Christ's personality is not done in one meditation; it slowly develops like the b.aby slowly developing back and neck muscles, balancin'g on his feet at six months, and finally learning to walk near the end of a year. Permanent character change, is more in the image of St.,Peter and the Apostles learning confidence in Christ over a period of several years, and still being a bit shaky at His death when confronted with actual life experience. But worth noting is the ever-recurring fact of suc-cess. After nine months in the womb the baby actually is born; a year later he walks; in nine months the student knows his history, mathematics, and language. In time the Apostles did attain cona-dence in Christ. Actual success is the constant experience of the hu-man race if timk and energy are dev6ted to the task. 4Leland E. Hinsie, Concepts and Problems of Psychotherapy, 11-12. 169. John Knight, S~o'ry oI My Psychoanalysis, 2-3. 196 155, 166- Ju~,~, ! 953 PROGRESS AND REGRESS ¥~rhat l~appens in two or three hundred hours? In that time our perso.nal equilibrium changes. Through ~ur mind and emotions there slowly winds a new track of virtue all its own. Character change invoIyes a rather thoroughgoing shift in our habitual reaction to life. It requires a new appreciation of life as a permanent part of the m~nd, a' new emotional pattern, a new reaction to a vast number of concrete situations. Suppose, for example, a close friend dies with whom you have associated night and day for ten years. In all the old situations which constantly remind you of this lost friend you m~lst make clear to yourself that you have this friend no longer, and that a renunciation is necessary. He is Vividly represented {n many personal memories and experiences. You will have to correct your reactions for many a day, and detachment must t~ke place separately in each instance. Similarly in character chan, ge. "The single action, the passing thought hardly dents the human system: it remains more like a feeble echo in the soul. A single action leaves one's equilibr!uin for meeting life largely unchanged. In two or three hundred" hours, however, the new reaction "works through" and permeates our mind and our thinking~ In that time it develops its own emotional pat-tern and becomes permanently related in experience to most of the concrete parts of life. Factors in Adult Progress As adults, we tend to sell human nature short. We frequently forget what a long way we have come since childhood, the countless number of small successes involved in our present degree of maturity. Starting out as a helpless babe, man slowly learns t6 walk, to speak, to run, to master language, to enjoy countless new experiences,, to cope with school life, to earn a living, to marry and support a fam-ily. Any one of thesehas practical difficulties of time and energy and personal ability somewhat like those in the spiritual life: Yet by the common experience of mankind, their attainment ih practically cer-~ rain if sufficient time and energy is devoted to the task. As adults we tend to forget the countless milestones we have already passed, and even come to expect no new milestones in the future. Often as adults we cut down on spiritual time and energy, and act in the practical order as if religious experience had been exhausted. If a religious tries to compress thirty hours int6 twenty-four, it is inevitable that he will have to scalp time from his spiritual life to ac-complish this feat. In this regard it would seem that all of us are endowed with a certain native shrewdness of the horse-trading vari- 197 CHARLES A. NASH ety. But little time means little progress. Sometimes we run our spiritual life like a carburetor with too thin a mixture of energy to operate the machine. Life's fast teinpo drains away energy. The more our limited daily energy is channeled to other things, the less remains available for character change or spiritual growth. ~ If there is no time and energy, there is no progress. As we grow older, our ideas of spiritual experience tend to become mote and more .rigid. Spiritual progress is difficult in a rigid mind, like mov, ement in a. straitjacket. Progress demands an open and pliant mifid with the door ever open to wider spiritual experience. Often in order to pro-gress we first have to unstiffen our spiritual ideas and keep them lim-ber. Age is not a true limit to spiritual growth. Remai'ning ever an experiencing being, man normally moves ever forward irma dynamic equilibrium toward an ever greater maturity in God. If the human mind closes to the future, it falls back upon the past. Not age but the man himself puts a stop to progress, by refusing new spiritual ex-perience. The Divine Plan Time, energy, and an open mind docile to the Holy Spirit fit into God's design for human experience on earth. In His divine plan as the Creator of human nature and every human experience, God has an eminently skilful regard for bo~h the strength and the weakness of the earthly pilgrim in his slow daily progress. He assists the slo~v, three-hundred-hour pace by the superior motivation of divine reve-lation, by countless actual graces, by the supernatural virtues of faith, hope, and charity. When only a miracle can be substituted for time, when our very best efforts are always attended by some failure, we catch no small glimmer of the "divinity that shape~ our ends" in the gift of-the three theological virtues. For without hope progress stops; without faith the path grows dim: without love the heart grows faint along the way. But in God's design for religious ex-perience ,the pilgrim is fortified by God Himself. Faith illumines our mind along the road to God; hop~ keeps effort alive and the goal be-fore our eyes; and love is even now a participation of the goal itself while progressing along the way: Divine assistanc~ and a ready w~l-come ever await the pilgrim at every step of his journey. "Come to Me all you that'labor and are heavily burdened and I will refresh you." The lq.ng-run trend of spiritual growth, in God's design, is a quickening triumphal march. ~ 198 The Unseen World Jerom~ Breunig, S.J. THE telescope and microscope have extended our horizons im- | measurably. They have opened up unseen worlds for us. "How mean is earth when I look to heaven," said St. Ignatius one night in Rome more than 400 years ago. Hbw much more mean-ingful this remark is today when the giant eye at Mt. Palomar, California, a 200 inch telescope, helps us penetrate into the sky to the staggering limits of more than one billion light years" and reveals millions of suns like our own moving at the incredible .speed of 500,000 miles, per hour. .~Apart from the findings of the great ob-servatories, even a good telescope on a clear night can reveal wonders hidden to the eye. We can see the pock marks that craters ma~ke on our next ~lo~r neighbor, the moon, which is a scant 238,000 miles fr6m our planet. We. can see the nine moons that cluster about Jupiter, the'ring of light about Saturn, as well as the fiery masses said to be billions of stars. ~The inicroscope opens another unseen world. To the unaided eye what is on the glass slide lo6ks like'a drop of water. Under the microscope we see many protozoa of all kinds. We can see scores of little slipper-shaped animals called paramecia caromin~ about in the water. Perhaps a sluggish, slow-moving amoeba can be sighted or a green euglena of the mastigophora (whip-bearing) family, propel-ling itself by its whiplike tail. After human vision gtopped, the zo-ologist has pushe,d on with his microscdpe to discover 30,000 kinds of protozoa in an unseen world. But there is another world still more 'marvelous and far more important than the worlds that the magnifying glass reveals. It is the unseen world of spiritual realities. Higher visual aid is required to penetrate far into this invisible but real world. We are blind and helpless without the eyes of faith. St. Paul speaks right to the point. "What is faith? It is that which'gives substance to our hopes, which convinces, us of things we cannot see." What are some of the realities in this unseen world? What are some of the "things we cannot see" except with the eyes of fai'th? No one has ever seen a soul at the moment God created it,'when it.left the body, or at any other time. Nor has anyone seen the re-birth of a soul at Baptism when the higher life of grace is infused and the human clay is made immortal diamond, when the bap'tized 199 ,In I JEROME BREUNIG Reoieto for Religious is made a son of God and heir of heaven, when the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity come and make their home in the soul, trans-forming it into a temple of God. "Blessed are those who have not .seen and have believed." Faith convinces us of things we cannot see. No one has seen a soul red as scarlet washed whiter than snow by the absolution of a priest. Nor has anyone seen the bread of heaven restoring the waning strength of the soul. No one has seen the inexpressible joy of the elect in the mansion,s of heaven, the chastening anguish of the souls in the prison of purgatory, or the black despair of the damned 'in hell. "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed." Faith convinces us of things we can-not see. Opposition of the Sense-World It is essential to salvation to stay aware of the unseen world but it is not easy. We live in a world of sense. Our very mode of learning is rboted in sense impressions. There is nothing in the mind / that was not first in the senses. Even faith comes by hearing. Our convictions about what we cannot see are constantly being challenged by things we can see. It is a losing battle, naturally. For instance, we will ordinarily be more vividly impressed by paging through a national picture magazine for a few minutes than we will by reading the Imitation of Christ for the same length of time. Unless we con, stan.tly cultivate supra-sensible reality by reading, reflection, and prayer, we will not be able to offset the ever-present attraction of the sensible. We.are also at the m'ercy of our less immediate environment. We are influenced by what we see, hear, feel; and much of this is secular. It is not informed with respect for the sacred unseen realities. There are also abundant examples of godlessness. To claim there are no atheists in foxholes, on the operating tables in our hospitals, among the alumni of our schools; Or ("there but for the grace of God go I") among ex-religious is to close one's eyes to the facts. The lack of respect for God's creative co-operation in h.uman generation is widespread and appalling. There are hardened, blinded men who look on death like the fallen-away who "assured" the hos-pital chaplain: "If I die on the operating table, there will not b'e any-one to take me away." Many non-believers patronize our "naivete" in accepting the sacramental system. A Catholic mayor was openly ridiculed in the public press: "How can he be fit to manage the city goverttment when he is foolish enough to believe a little wafer is his 200 duly, 1953 THE UNSEEN WORLD God." Communists use brutal methods.to eradicate, "to wash away," a sense of the supernatural, but secularism has a smooth ap-proach that sometimes is even more effective in uprooting faith, hope, and charity. The recent ~u.rvey of religion in the United States has produced some startlin~ data. The first report that 99% of the people be-lieved in the existence of G~od was heartening, but the subsequent studies revealed the shallowness of much of this belief. Thd eighth" of the series, "What Americans Think of Heaven and Hell," reported the following statistics in the March number of the Catholic Digest. "Do you think there is any real possibility of your going to.hell? Yes, answered .I 2 %; No, 29 % : Don't know, 17 %; Do not beh.eve in hell, 42 %." In other words, 88 % of those questioned were not greatly concerned with .a truth that Christ underlined clearly, in His teaching. And this is the. environment, through the press, radio, television(?), and a thousand other contacts, we live in. The un-seen world of faith has competition. Witnesses to the Unseen The greatest Witness to the reality of the unseen world was" Christ, God2s Son, who clothed Himself with flesh and blood, a true human nature, worked miracl~s, and founded a ,visible Church to bear witness to the invisible grandeur of divine realities. He invites religious in a special way to continue to bear witness. He has invited them to prove the eternal value of.a better world to a money-mingled, sex-sick, rugged-individual generation by being poor, chaste, and obedieht as He was in the wor'ld. "But if religious are not inhabi-tants of this unseen world they will never impart the irresistible con-viction that the unseen world exists." The recent communication from a Poor Clare (REVIEW, No-vember~ 1952, 312-14) contained the eloquent witness to the un-seen world that is afforded by contemplatives. "There is an unseen world which to her (a Poor Clare) is very real. The incidents of daily lilt'are mere accidentals which are of value so far as they pur-chase for her more perfect union with God. This unseen world is as real to her as the things she can reach out and touch, and touching it she can make every action of hers prayer. I am speaking of prayer,mnot prayers," Until the unseen world is as real to us as the things we can reach out and touch, we will not convey the conviction so badly needed. 201 C. A. HERBST Reuieto for Religious, There is on~ way to make this world that real. It is by living in it. I remember a retreat master's remark on tills point. "You have to have darkness to find a picture on the sensitive plate, and you ha~e to have prayer to bring out the invisible presence of God." Again, it is ' prayer and not prayers that will enable us to live the convictions of our faith. Chari!:y C. A. Herbst, S.J. W~HEN a learned man among the Jews asked Our Lord: "Which is the great commandment in the law?" Christ answered: "Thou shalt love the' Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, andwith thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment." (Mt. 22: 37, 38). This was not new with Christ. It is the burden not only of the New but als0 of the Old Testament. written, as St. Paul says, "with the Spirit 6f the living God.in the fleshly tables of the heart" (II Cot. 3:3). The theological virtues are the greatest of all the virtues. Thdre are three of them: faith, hope, and charity. "And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three." Of these three, love of God' for His own sake is the queen: "But the greatest of these is charity" (I Cot. 13:13). Its object is God Himself, and our motive for loving Him,. too, is His own dear Self, "because Thou are all good and worthy of all love." "I call charity that virtue which moves the soul to love God 'for His own sake and oneself and the neighbor for God's ~ake," said St. Augustine. Charity makes all the virtues live. It is the soul even of faith, without which it is impossible to please God. "The life. of the body is the soul. By it the body moves and feels. Even so the life of faith is charity, because it works through charity, as you read in the Apostle: 'faith that worketh by charity' (Gal. 5:6). When charity grows cold, f~ith dies, just as the body does when the soul leaves it." (St. Bernard, Serrn. "2 In Resurr.) "O my God, ,I love Thee above all things." How can I truth-fully say this when I prove many times every day by committing venial sins that I love even tiny creatures more than I love God? Or why is it that I do not cry for love of God wheaa I lqse Him by mor-tal sin but I do cry when I lose my mother by death? Although ¯ 202 drain, 1953 CHARITY these actions seem to be contradicting my words "0 my God, I love Thee above all things," they, really do not. I can weep over my mother's death and commit venial sins and" still love God objectively above all things. That is, I can, and do, go on sincerely and earnest-ly wishing Him the l~reatest good, .that He will continue to be the supreme object of all love and receive divine honors. I can commit venial sins and weep over temporal ld~s and still love God above all things appreciative4 , too. by preferring God with an efficacious will to all created things, by esteeming Him as thehighest good. I can so value and esteem Him ak to be r~eady to lose all else rather than abandon God. We canndt recall too often that true love is in the will, not in the fe~!ings or ~motions. A mother's instinctive and spontaneous feelings and enfotions may draw her to love her child more ir~rensel~, with greater ease, tenderness, and alacrity, than she does God, yet she is ~eady to lose her child rather than offend God seriously. Her love for God is greater and deeper, and influences her soul more p[ofoundly. She loves God objectively and appreciatively more, and intensively and emotionally less. Thihgs of sense appeal more directly and affec-tively than spiritual things do. That in the supreme test, love for God is greater and stronger than any natural love is wonderfully shown in the death of St. Perpetua, martyr. "Neither the tears and oft-repeated prayers of her. aged father, nor the mother-love for the baby boy at her breast, nor the ferocity of her tormentors could move Perpetua from her faith in 3esus Christ." This is brought out, too. by the incidents in the daily lives of the "little people" in Christ's Church' in this living present, so well presented by Father Trese. " 'We've a good pastor,' my.people say --and I am ashamed. Ashamed as I stand beside Katie Connelly at the bed of her just-dead son, and hear her say, 'It's God's will. isn't it, Father?' while she clutches my. hand. Ashamed as I stand beside Ed Fetter at his wife's bier, and hear him say, with three little tykes hanging to his pants-legs, 'If this is what God wants,, we've got to take it, Father.' Ashamed as I ride with the Martins to the Stat~ Hospital where they are taking their son, and hear the mother say, as she bites her lip, 'Well, we've all got to have our cross, Father.' " (Leo Tress, Vessel of Clapt, 24.) Love has various degrees. - In the love of concupiscence there is something of self. I love another because I will get something out of it for myself. This is love of God for my own sake, with selfishness, 203 C. A. HERBST but a very good selfishness. This is the great virtue of hope. Then there is the love of complacency, in which I am glad and rejoice, take pleasure in, another's good, just~ because it ishis good. By it I re-joice in ~the divine perfections~ "Thus approving the good which we see in God, and rejoicing in it, we make the act of l~ve which is called complace-ncy; for we please ourselves in the divine pleasure infinitely more than in our own,' (St. Francis de Sales, Looe of God, V, i). A third and higher'degree of love is~ the love of benevolence, By it we wish another well, want good to come to him. This love we express in the Our Father when we pray: "Hallowed be Thy Name, Thy kingdom ~ome, Thy will be done!" Love consists more in deeds than in words. "If you love me, keep my commandments," Our Lord said (John 14: 15). Every-body knows that "talk is che~p,'° but actions filled with love are purest gold. A fine expression of love is a gift. That is why we give gifts on birthdays and on other joyous occasions. Gifts are the language of love. This is shown most strikingly at Christmas time. It is ~ the . feast of giving, of the Gift. Men give then because God taught them to show love that way. He gave the first Christmas Gift by giving Jesus Christ, His son. "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten son" (John 3:16). That was Bethlehem. That was Calvary, too. "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten son." The .lesson ChriSt taught from the crib and from the cross is the same lesson; love in deed, in giving. The soul that loves God cannot miss that. It is convinced that love consists in a mutual exchange of gifts. "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I do for cnrlst. The answer leaps forth: "Take, O Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding~ and my whole will." One gives oneself whole and entire. We cannot do more. But we can do it more solemnly and more specifically, and we have. Religious surrender to God the goods of the world by the vow of poverty. They surrender to .God the goods of the body and of family, life by the vow of chastity. They surrender to God the goods of the soul, especially that most precious thing, their will, by ~he vow of obedience. "Almighty and Eternal God, I vow to Thee perpetual poverty: chastity, and obedience." This is our answer to the divine challenge: "Thou shalt love'the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy .whole soul, and with all thy strength, and wi'th all thy mind . This do, and thou shalt live." 204 The Moral Code Cat:holic I-lospit:als Gerald Kelly, S.J. SOME years ago there was a colorful basketball official who used to delight (and sometime~ enrage) spectators by his dramatic way of telling players, "You can't do that[" Again and again his whistle would be heard and he would be seen speeding across the floor, an accusing finger' pointed at some offending player, as his piercing voice insisted," "You can't do that!" ¯ For all too many people, I fear, this officialmminus his pleasing dramatics--might represent the Catholic hospital and its moral code. Engraven in the minds of these people is the picture Of a devoted non- Catholic physician bending over his patient in the operating or de-livery room, yearning to do something to save the patient's life, but frustrated in this salutary design by the Church, which, through the Sister superior or supervisor or chaplain, raises its restraining hand 'and says unsympathetically, "You can't do that!" Certainly much of the publicity given to v~arious events that take place in our hos-pitals caters to this impression. For example, a few years ago, in Brownsville, Texas, a physician who had sterilized a woman in defiance of the hospital code was dis-missed from the staff. The incident received nation-wide publicity in the daily'papers; and the correspondent of one widely-read weekly devoted to it considerable space and ev?n more emotion. The Sisters of Mercy had closed the doors of mercy to the doctor whose only purpose was mercy~ Follow-up letters from doctors, including one from the vice-chief'-of-staff of their hospital, favored the Sisters and showed little sympathy for the expelled physician. Other letters, however, showed marked sympathy for the doctor and for his emo-tional reporter. One letter in particular expressed great !mpatience with this.Church which insists on projecting the taboos .(a favorite epithet for commandments, divine and human) of the Dark Ages into the twentieth-century operating and delivery rooms. In this and similar incidents We have examples of the old prob-lem of misunderstanding.' The critics usually do not understand our hospital code. Even Catholics, I think, seldom realize what goes into a code. In fact, many seem to have the impression that a Cath- 205 GERALD KELLY Review fur Religious olic hospital moral code consists in ond supreme principle (which, incidentally, is "best-seller" nonsense at its best) that mothers must die fortheir babies. These people ought ko have more accurate in-formation, and it seems logical that they might expect to get it from religious because the Catholic hospital, is one of the most distinctive and extensive achievements of our religious institutes. The following paragraphs p~ovide at least the minimum essentials for giving correct information. ~ Why a Code? Since.the administrators of Catholic hospitals are men and women whose lives are consecrated to God, they can conscientiously conduct these hospitals only when they have a reasonable assurance that the law of God will be observed in the treatment of the sick. One way of obtaining this assurance is to formulate the pertinent moral prin-ciples and their applications into a code and to have the staff-members guarantee that they will observe this code. The first reason for having a code, therefore, is to satisfy the conscience of the admin-istrators. This is aptly stated in the introduction to the present code of the Catholic Hospital Association: "Catholic hospitals exist to render medical and spiritual care to the sick. The .patient adequately considered, and inclusive of his spiritual status and his claim to the helps of the Catholic religion, is the primary concern of those entrusted with the management of Catholic hospitals. Trustees and administrators of Catholic hos-pitals understand this responsibility tbwards each patient whom they accept, to be seriously binding in conscience. "A partial statement of this basic obligation is contained in the present Code of Ethical and Religious Directives. All who associate themselves with a Catholic hospital, and particularly the members of the medical and nursing staffs, must understand the moral and reli-gious obligations binding on those responsible for the management and operation of the hospital, and must realize that they are allowed to perform only such acts and to carry out only such procedures as will enable the owners and administrators to fulfill their obligations." What was .lust said might be construed as meaning that the sole or primary purpose for having a moral code is to protect administra-tor~ against doctors who might perform illicit opera.tions in their hospitals. This" is not true. Generally speaking, doctors and nurses, both Catholic and to a large extent the non-Catholics, want clear 206 July, 1953 ~ HOSPITAL CODE guidance in the ethical problems of their profession. And they want it because they are conscious of a need. As members of a. profession ithat deals constantly with life and death, with mutilation of the hu-man body, with expensive and sometimes dangerous remedies, they are faced again and again With acute ethical problems. Yet large numbers of them, even among tl~e Catholics, have never had the op-portunity of taking~a course in medical ethics. Others who have had such a course have grown "rusty" and need some convenient way of refreshing their memories. For all of these a moral code, which con-tains concisely-stated principles and practical applications to the field of medicine, satisfies a definite need. Making a Code What have our Catholi~ hospitals done to provide the needed guidance through a moral code? For many years the hospitals of the United States and Canada used a very brief ~ode which was excellent at the time it was formulated but which became more and mor~ in-adequate as the progress of medicine introduced new problems and threw new light on old ones. A new and more complete code was needed, and many dioceses prepared such a cod~ for their own use. It was not until 1947 that work was begun on a revised code for the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada. The work done by the committee on this revised code may be of interest., The committee first made a careful examinationof all the recently-composed diocesan codes, selected what seemed the best material from them. and arranged this material plus their own contributions in a manner that seemed best for handy reference. When this was done, a preliminary draft of a new code was sent for criticism to a large number of doctors and moralists in various parts of the United States and Canada. The doctors consulted included both Catholics and non-Catholics. They were chosen for eminence in their profession and not for ~hei~'religion. These consultants, doctors and moralists;: submitted criticisms some of them. very detailed---of the prelim-inary formula. The criticisms were carefully weighed by the com-mittee and a new formula was drafted. , This was referred again to the original critics; more suggestions were offered; and the code was finally formulated in a manner that met"with universal apprbval. This code was publ!shed in 1949 by the Catholic Hospital Associa-tion of the United States arid Cahada, and it is used today in most o'f the dioceses of these two countries. Some dioceses which had gone~ 207 GERALD KELLY Review [ur Religious to great trouble to prepak-e their own codes still use these in preference to the revised code of the C~tholic Hospital Association. Two observations are in place here in order to ~0revent misunder-standings. First, there is a question pertinent to revising a code: does this mean that morM principles change, or, as some people would put it, does it mean that the Church has changed its moral ~tandards? Obviously, the revision of a hospital code should have no such im-plications. Moral principles do not change: and, from the stand-point of ~principles, the only'reasons for revising an approved code might be to include some principle not beret0fore included, or to ex-press more clearly and simply one of the principles already included. But the application of moral principles to medicine can change be-cause this application depends on the medical facts, which can change with the progress of.science. For example, there was a time when the only way of successfully treating certain infections was' by surgical operation, but tod~ay many of these infections can be arrested by the use of recently-discovered drugs. A fact like this can be the basis for declaring that an operation which was permissible several years ago because necessary for the patient's welfare is no longer permissible. This is but one example of how the application of principles to con-crete cases can change. The revision of a code is largely concerned with these concrete cases. A second observation concerns ~he fact that different codes are fol-lowed in various dioceses. Does this mean that what is morally good in one place is immoral in another? Again the answer is in the nega-tive. The differences in the codes concern neither the moral prin-ciples nor the licitness of specific operations and treatments. They concern rather the selection and arrangement of materi.al, with per-haps the addition of some purely disciplinary regulation .which may be thought necessary in one place but not in another: for example, on the need of consultation before some operation is allowed. Content of Code .: At this point, if not before, someone might well ask just wh~it, is a code, and what goes into it. I can best answer this question by're-ferring specifically to the revised code of the Cat.holic Hospital As-sociation, which is entitled Ethical and Religious .Directives/~or Cath-oti~ Hospitals. As the title implies, this code contains two sections. The second section contains directives of a religious nature which concern the reception and administration of the ~acraments and the 208 dulg, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE reverent disposal of.amputated members and immature babies. For the most part, this sectibn of the code would directly concern only Catholics or those who wish to become Catholics. The first section contains ethical directives, that is, principles of the natural law with applications to medicine. Since the natural law binds all men, the provisions of this section apply to all patients, doctors, nurses, and other hospital personnel, regardless of their religion. This is really the moral code of our hospitals. My subsequent remarks app.ly to this section. Basic Principles The,baslc moral principles which are ~ formulated and applied in ¯ our ethical directive~ can be reduced to these six: (a) the .need of the / patient's consent; (b) the inviolability of innocent human life: the intrinsic.evil 'of contraceptive practices: (d) the principle~.of the "double effect"; (e) the principle of "liberty" and (f) the principle of "totality." Perhaps a few words about each of these principles will .be informative without being unduly soporific. ~) The patient's consent. Each individual human being has bqth ~the right and the duty to care for his health. When a doctor treats a patient, he is simply exercising the patient's own right of self-preservation for him, and he may not perform even legitimate operations without the consent of the patient.,. This Consent may be' given explicitly, as would be the case if an operation would be ex-plained to the patient and he ~would then agree to it. Or it may.be implicit, as would be the case if the patient asl~ed for a cure, with the understanding that he is.willingto Submit to all the necessary pro-ce. dures, even without .explanation. Or it may be reasonabtg pre-sumed, as is the case when a doctor gives emergency treatment to an unconscious man. Sound morality requires consent in one of these forms and l~oth civil law and medical associations recognize ~his. For infants and others who are incapable of acting rationally, the parents or guardians have the right to give the consent., b) The inviolabilitg of innocent human life. The meaning bf this principle is strongly and clearly explained in a memorable pas-sage of our present Holy Father's Allocution on the moral problems of married life (October 29, 195 I). This.passage Should be f~imiliar, not 0nly to religigus in hospital work, but to educators as well. "Now the.child, ~ven the unborn child," said the Pope, "is a hu-man being, a human being in .the same degree and by ~he same title as 209 ,,It GERALD KELLY Review for Religious is its mother. Moreover, every human being, even the child¯ in its mother's womb, receives its right to life directly from God, not frdm its parents, nor from any human society or authority. Therefore there is no man, no human authority, no science, no 'indication,,' whether medical, eugenical, social, economic/or moral, that can show or give a valid juridical title for a deliberate and direct disposing of an innocent human life, that is to say, for an action which aims at its destruction, whether such destruction be intended as an end or as a means towards some other end which may "itself be in no way illicit. So, for example, to save the life of the mother is a most noble end, but the direct killing of the cl~ild as a means to that end is not law-ful. The direct destruction of the 'so-called 'valueless life,' whether born or unborn, which was practised a few years ago in numerous in-stances, can in no way be justified. And therefore when this i~ractice began the Church formally declared that it is contrary to the natural law and to the positive law of God, and consequently" illicit--even under instruction from the public authority to kill those who, al: though innocent, are nevertheless by reason of some physical or-ps3;- chical taint useless to the nation and even become a burden on the ¯ community. The life of an innocent human being is inviolable, .and any direct assault or. attack on it violates one of those fundamental laws without which it is impossible for human beings to live safely in society. We have no need to teach you the particular significance of this fundamental law and its bearing upon your profession. But do not forget it: above any human law, above any 'indication' whatso-ever, there stands the indefectible law¯ of God." The Pope's words are obviously directed against doctbrs and others who think that in certain situations there are good reasons (they call them "indications") for the direct killing of an unborn child. Against these men he defends the right of the child. But he does not limit his words to the child; he defends all innocent human life. The direct (i.e., the intentional) taking of such life is never permissible. Any procedure which'would result in death for either the mother or the child (or for any other innocent person) can be justi-fied only when the death is an unintended and unavoidable by-product of the procedure. Incidentally, this principle of the inviola-bility of human life also condemns the so-called mercy-~killing (the taking of a patient's life to relieve him of suffering), whether it is done with or without the patient's consent. c) The intrinsic evil of contraception. The Church, especially in 210 July, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE the oi~cial t~aching,of the two last Popes, has'constantly branded artificial birth control as contrary to the law of nature, and therefore intrinsically evil. The most ~adical form of this evil is direct steri-lization, which means the intentional destruction of the procreative power. Doctors have many ways of accomplishing this, and all of of them.are forbidden by our code. .d) The principle oF the "'double effect.'" Students of ethics are familiar with this principle and know that it contains the solution to many of the practical,~problems of life. Conscientious people often use it without knowing it exists. The aviator who bombs an im-portant military target, foreseeing but not desiring the deaths of some civilians, is perhaps unwittingly using this principle. The student who must read a treatise on sex, foreseeing but not wanting tempta-tions against chastity, is using perhaps also unwittingly the p~inciple of the double effect. And all of us. whether we realize it or not, are following this same principle when we perform some good and neces-sary action, realizing that, despite our best intentions, certain others will misunderstand and will be'led to rash judgments and to criti-cism. The deaths of the civilians, the sexual temptations, and the harsh thoughts and criticism, are all simply unavoidable and un-wanted by-products of actions that are good in themselves and of sufficient importance to be performed despite the evil effects that at-company them. The principle of the double effect has many applications in medicine, especially as regards surgical operations on diseased repro-ductive organs with the unavoidable destruction of the procreative power and as regards treatment of a pregnant mother with some un-intentional but unavoidable risk either to herself or to her child. This last point was clearly explained by. Pope Plus XII in his Allodution to the "Family Front" (November 26, 1951): "On purpose," he said, "We have always used the expression "direct attempt on the life of an innocent person,' "direct killing.' Be-cause if, for example,-the saving of the life of the future mother, in-dependently of her pregnant state, should urgently require a surgical act or other therapeutic treatment which would~have as an accessory consequence, in no way desired or intended but inevitable, the death of the fetus, such an act could no longer be called a direct attempt on innocent life. Under these conditions the operation can be licit, like other similar medical interventions, granted always that a good of high worth is concerned, such as life, and that it is not possible to 211 GERALD KELLY Review fur Religious postpone the operation until after the birth of the child, or to 'have recourse to other efficacious remedies." e) The principle of ."libertt.t." Physicians do. not always see eye-to-eye on the value of certain treatments or operations. For ex-a.~ ple, take the much-discussed and too-much-popularized operation called Idbotomy. Thisoperation consists essentially in severing cer-tain fibers in the brain, and its general purpose seems to be to reduce emotional tension and thus help in the cure of some mental illnesses and in relieving otherwise unbearable pain. The sharpest kind of con-troversy exists among reputable physicians as to the good produced by the operation, the risks it involves, the types of patients that might benefit from it, and so forth. And this is but one example of many decidedly controversial questions in the sphere of medicine: Theologians, too, have their differences of opinion; and this is especially true when they are faced with a new problem. "There are pros and cons to many of these problems, and it may take a long time before the issues are sufficiently clarified to have a ffnanimous opinion for either side or until the teaching authority of the Church inter-venes to settle the matter. Sound morality supplies this practical principle that may be fol-lowed in these legitimately debated matters: obligations (i.e., pre-cepts and prohibitions) are not to be imposed unless they are certain. This is what I mean by the principle of "liberty." For the doctor, this means that, with the consent of the patient, he and his consult-ants may follow what they sincerely judge to be the proper medical procedure as long as this procedure is not certainly wrong. I f) The principle of "totality." I have taken this woful from Pope Pius XII, who said in his address on the moral limits of medical research a~ad treatment (September 14, 1952): "By virtue of the principle of totality, by virtue of his right to use the services of his organism as a whole, the patient can allow individual parts to be destroyed or mutilated when and to the extent~necessary for the good of his being as a whole." Obviously, this is an extremely important principle in medi'cal practice. Every time a doctor, acting according to the principles of sound medicine, and with the consent of his pa-tient, removes an eye, a hand, a gall-bladder, etc., he is following this principle of totality. He removes the member, which is a part of the whole, because it has become in some way.a threat to the survival or the well-being of the whole. 212 Jul~, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE Conclusion The foregoing are. the main, if not the only, principle~ that form the core of an~] sound medico-moral code. Perhaps I have giventhem too much space: yet it seems to me that one really appreciates our hos-pital codes only when he sees these basic principles grouped together and briefly explained. It may be taken for granted that an~ doctor who conscientiously follows these principles will act, not ~nly ac-cording to sound morality, but also according to sound medicine. Earlier in this article I suggested that in the minds of many people the supreme moral principle of Catholic hospitals seems to be that mothers must die for their babies. This, as I said, is best-seller non-sense at its best, and perhaps I should have said at its worst. Implicit in this attitude is the idea that in a critical situation a Catholic mother must always prefer her baby's life to her own. The idea is erroneous. Obviously, no mother may allow the direct taking of her life in order to save her baby, because, as Plus XlI declared, the direct destruction of any innocent life is morally wrong. And even a~ regards the risking of her life, e.g., by submitting to a dangerous operation, for thd sake of her baby, we must be very careful about making universal state-ments. We would have to consider many concrete factors before we could decide whether such a risk is obligatory or even permissible. Closely related to this erroneous notion that in our hospitals mothers must die for their babies is the idea that, since Catholic hos-pitals do not permit thereapeutic abortion (a "gentle" expression for the practice of killing babies to "save" mothers), they lose more mothers than do other hospitals. Not only is there no statistical basis for this, but what statistics we have indicate the very opposite. /~or example, two Boston doctors, Roy J. Heffernan and William "A. Lynch, recently obtained information about maternal deaths from 171 hospitals in various paris of our country. This information covers a period of eleven years, 1940-1950. In these hospitals, during this long period, there were more than ~hree million deliveries, about evenly di~iided, between hospitals that permit therapeutic abortions and hospitals that exclude this practice. The maternal death rate in the hospitals that do not allow therapeutic abortions was .87 .per thousand deli~ceries, whereas in the hospitals that do allow therapeu-tic abortion the maternal death rate was .98 per .thousand deliverles. According to these and similar statistics', the keeping of God's law saves not only babies but their mothers, as well. This is a too-littld-known aspect of the apostolate of Catholic hospitals. 213 .ues!: ons and AnSwers ~18m What can be done to counteract some Iong-sfandincj practlce, s en-gaged in during time of retreat by Sister-retreatants, for example, re-hearslng daily for one or two hours the Mass and hymns to be used ,for the reception ceremony; embroidering and crocheting between conferences2 The Sisters who participate in these works find that it interferes with thei~ recollection. ¯ Some work ab.out the house, some choir practice, and other little jobs (like needlework) would not seem to interfere ,too much with retreat recollection if indulged in only for about aft hour or so a day. That would still allow the retreatants a fair amount of time for un-disturbed private reflection an~l personal duties. If, however, the re-treat schedule were already extraordinarily crowded (which is usually not the case), there might be little time left for such tasks as indi-cated in our question. In any case, it is important that retreatants h~ve a fair amount of leisure time for private reflection, for jotting down. spirittlal "lights," for additional rest, and the like. ml9m At times it is necessary to post items pertinent to religious' in various departments of an establishment in regard to keeping rooms in order, having greater care of furniture, and the like. Would it not further a bet-ter ~om;nunity spirit if such directions were posted in the community room rather than on the doors of the different departments where outsiders may read them and make comments? Yes, it would be better to post items of a personal or private na-ture, whether they pertain to the community as a whole or to indi-vidual members of the community, in some place reserved to the reli-gious family .in preference to other more or less public places. Thus criticism might be lessened. It is possible, :though, that sometimes superiors ihtend such notices not merely nor primarily for religious who are in charge of or are working in a department, but especially for the outside help. Then such notices would be posted where those for whom they a~e intended would see them. In these cases, however, care should be taken that the wording of the notice does not occasion criticism of the religious. 214 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS In a religious congregation (in which simple vows are taken) may a ~ell-glous who is subiect fo a provincial superior have a right of appeal to the superior general when the religlous wants a farad or extra permission? To begin with, religious have the right of communicating with higher superio.rs: such correspondence is sealed. Religidus could. therefore, ask for various permissions from higher superiors. Some extraordinary permissions are usually asked of higher superiors ra~ber than of the immediate superior. Ordinary permissions, however, as a general rule are to be sought from the immediate superior. If that superior refuses the permission, one should not request the same per-mission from a higher superior without informing him that the per-mission was refused by the lower superior." Good government dic-tates that procedure, as ~ell as courtesy ahd possibly the rules of the institute. Before asking for any extra permissions or "favors," religious should remember .that superiors are to help their subjects observe common life; hence superior~ may not readily grant extra permission.s to a subject unless the Circumstances of the case warrant it. Likewise superiors must then be willing, and able, to grant the same permission to any other, subject in the same circuhastances. Subjects should try to lighten° the superior's burden' of of~ce by not requesting permis-sions which superiors should not grant either because they are not consonant with religious life, or because they would violate or harm common life, or because of some other good reason. Besides being a violation of common life, "favoritism" in a community is always odious. The cause of our Venerable Founder has been in progress at Rome for thirty years. In order to help Stimulate popular devotion to our Founderu particularly among ou~ students and their parents--our Order is in the habit of prlntlng, from time to time pictures and devotional pamphlets about him. Up to now. printed matter of that type only bore the nlhll obsfaf of the ordinary of the diocese where our motherhouse is located. It was brough~t to our attention lately that we need the approbation of the Holy See ~or an~ printed material about our Fo, under who has been de-clared Venerable. Is that observation correct? Canon 1387, of the, Code of Canon Law states that what per-tains in any way to the causes of beatification and canonization of 215. QUESTIONS ~ND ~NSWERS Servants of God may not be published without the permission of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. @his restriction applies only~to causes which are pending before the Sacred. Congregation; not to those which are finished (person b~s been canonized), or are pending be-fore some other body "than the Sacred'Congregation of Rites. During the time permission must be obtained from the Sacred Congregation, no further permission of the local ordinary is necessary for publica-tion of matter approved by the Sacred Congregation. The Codex pro Postulatoribus Causarum Beatiffcationis et Can-onizationis i4th edition, 1929, page 26, nos. 21 and 22) repeats the abo~ce and includes pictures (imagines) under the provision of can-on 1387. Several author~ who comment on canon. 1387 say that it seems to refer only t6 documents and. acts connected with the prosecution of th~ cause, such as summaries and proofs proposed for furthering the cause, opinions of consultors; comments of. the prornotor tidei, and the like. These authors rely on a Monitum of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Rites of February 12, 1909, which required previous' permis-sion of the Sacred Congregation for the publication of accounts,of the llfe, virtues, and "wonders" of Servants of God. Consequently it seems probable that the devotional pamphlets and pictures mentioned in our question need not be submitted to the Sacred Congregation for approval. m22-., Postulants are being sent out to the missions to hel'p with the teaching in schools*. They return to the motherhouse fop the week-ends. Are supe-riors justified in extending the postulancy for,three or four months, because the number of novices to be 'professed is not sufficient to fill the places of Fhe postulants? The Normae of 1901 (which have been used as a model for the constitgtions of rehgzous ,congregations) allowed a period of pos-tulancy ranging between gik--and twelve months. They permitted the superior general f~ a ~just cause to prolong the postulancy up to three additional months i~ particular cases (n. 65). A just cause was considered to exist if superiors remained uncertain about the vocation of the candidate, about his qualifications Or defects, or about his ad, justment to the life of the institute. ¯ The Code of Canon Law speaks of a postulancy of at least six entire months which must. be made by all women in religious insti- 216 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS tutes with perpetual vows and by the lay brothers in the.institutes of men. It permits the major superior ,to prolong the postulancy, but not beyond another six months (canon 539). This may be done in particular cases. The purpose of the prolongation is again to allow superiors more time to size up the applicant's vocation and more pre-cisely. his aptitude or fitnes~ for their religious institute. In the light of the above, it is rather difficult to see how superiors wbuld be justified in extending the postulancy for three or four months in the case under consideration. It might be well to add that the Apostolic Delegate has special .faculties to shorten or prolong the postulancy pre~scribed by the Code of Canon Law. Relatives of a relig;ous send money to a mutual friend with the under-standing that the religious will let that friend knowwhat he wants the friend to buy for him on the occasion of his blrfhday, Christmas, Easter, and the like. Is such procedure in keeping with poverty, or would the religious be considered as having a reserved fund of money? In the final .analysis the practice outlined' in the question reduces itself to a private fund of money at the disposal of the religious, a form of peculium generally contrary t~o the poverty professed by most. religious institutes, At best, this is contrary to cohamon life and the spirit of povert, y. A religious who countenanced such a practice could very well profit from reading Father Gallen's excellent article on "The Spirit of Poverty'" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII .[1949], 35-43), not to me.ntion various other articles on common life arid the vow of poverty. As a practical solution, the religious could advise his relatives, who wish to give him a present, to send the money.to 'him rather than to the mutual friend. It would be understood that the reli-gious will turn in the money to his superiors to be added to the com-munity funds; then, when the religious needs something, the superior will provide it from the community funds. In that way both the vow and the spirit of poverty, as well as commott life, will be safe-guarded. A Sister acts as organist for the children's choir and for the adult choir during Mass and other services. Does canon law forbid this? A similar questi6n about a Sister organist was answered in the 217 Review ?or Religious BOOK REVIEWS pages of this REVIEW, VIII (1949), 325. Attention was called to possible diocesan regulations on the matter, even though the Code of Canon Law says nothing about it. In genera~ it seems that there would riot be much objection to a Sister acting as organist for a chil-dren's choir. In case of reai need this might also be stretched to in-clude an adult Choir of women only. But for a mixed adult choir:. "In practice,no Sister should undertake to play the organ for amixed choir of men and women without the express permission of the local ordinary and of her ownhigher superior" ibid.). / Book Reviews .~IRACLES. By Jean Hell~. Translated by Lancelot CL Sheppard. Pp. v~ -h. 288. David McKa¥ (~omp~ny, Inc., New York, 1952. $3.~0. This work is not a philosophical or tbeo16gical treatise on mir-acle. s. Rather, by a fairly detailed historical presentation of selec.ted cases, it is designed to give the reader a fairly general knowledge of, them. It is "a synthesis, or more modestly perhaps, an attempt at a synthesis" (p. 14). The whole story is built around persons, and l~eferably persons Who are not very remote from us in time. The language is not technical, but adapted to all intelligent readers. ,, The first chapter is an account of "miracles of humility": it: pre-sents the "stories of the Cur{ .of ~Ars and of Bernadette Soubi~ous; Then there follows, "Fatima, or the Age of Mary." Therese Neu-mann does not measure up to the author's standards and require-ments. But--surprisingly enough--"Catberine Emmerich, 'Narra, tot' of .the Gospels" and her writir~gs touched up by Clement Bren-tano meet with his full approval. The apparitions at Beauraing, BelgiUm, 1932-1933, are judged t6 be "childish fiction.'" Neverthe~ less' this is one of the few among recent cases that have received epis-copal approbatton. A particularly interesting feature of th~s book is the final chapter: "imitators and Fakers of Miracles." By contrast it serves especially well to bring out the great differences that obtain be-tween, genuine supernatural signs and others that are ~fraudulent, and how the pretended marvelous can be detected and distinguished from whaTt his~ a wuthhoelnet iwc.ork emphasizes the prudent reserve and critical spirb of the Church toward whatever is proposed as surpassing the limiv 218 duly, 1953 BOOK REVIEWS of nature, and tends to,bring about in the mind of the reader a simi-lar wise attitude.---AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD. ., A LIFE OF CHRIST. By Aloys Dirksen, C.PP.S. Dryden Press, New York, 1952. Pp. 340. $3.75. This book is unique in two respects: first, it has the '.'split-p~ge format." that is to say, in the upper part we find the Confraternity text of' the Gospels, and entirely separated from this section, a com-mentary on the Gospel text. One can turn the pages of the upper section without disturbing those below. Secondly, the Commentary and its Introduction are models of intelligent compression. Eight introd_uctory chapters furnish,,~i background for a better understanding of the actual commentary. These include a brief dis-cussion of the sources for a life of Christ, an outline of the geography of Palestine, a survey of the l~revious history of the Jews. the politi-cal and social conditions and prevalent religious beliefs of the period when our Lord was onearth. Such a comprehensive introduction can treat these matters only in barest outline, and if a few inaccuracies have crept in, this can readily be excused. The commentary, too, is suggestive rather thar~ exhaustive: but it is usually very much to the point. The ordinary reader will find there what he wants to know about the Gospel text he is reading. At the end of the commentary, by way of appendix, is a list of messi-anic prophecies found in the-Old Testainent. and of the Old Testa-ment quotations found in the four Gospels. Since the author uses many tec
Issue 20.5 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; HENRI HOLSTEIN, S,J. The Mystery of Religious Life Religious life1¯ interests contemporary man; this in-terest, in fact, constitutes one of the curious, paradoxes of our times. However surprising and unexpected this may seem to be, our contemporaries' interest in religious life is shown by the success of the novelized memoirs of ex-religious, especially when they are .transposed to the film. Books about religious are a financial success; this is true even in the case of expensive publications like the recent volume of Mo_nsieurs Serrou and Vals on the Poor Clares;2 this volume, illustrated by remarkable photographs that give the reader a realization of the life of the religious, is a continuation of a series on various comtemplative orders of men and women. Mademoiselle Cita-Malard, who lived with the permission of the Holy See0within the cloister of most of the important orders of women and who is able to make them known in an intelligent and respectful fashion, has published a brief, well-written volume to in-troduce French readers to "a million religious women."a And on. the stage in Paris, Monsieur Di~go Fabri presents the Jesuits4 to an audience which from all appearances:is deeply attentive and thoughtful; by means of a somewhat flamboyant plot which the playwright has imagined on the frontiers of that part of the world cut off by the iron cur-tain, the problem of the contemporary apostolate is placed'~ What is the source of this interest and curiosity which in general is sympathetic even if it is aroused by anecdotal or vestimentary details rather than by what is essential 1 This article was originally a conference given at the University of Louvain as the conclusion of a series of lectures on religious life. !t is reprinted with permission from Revue des communautds re-ligieuses, v. 33 (1961), pp. 65-~9. * Les Clarisses: les pauvres dames de sainte Glaire d'Assise. Paris: Horay, 19fi0. ~ Un million de religieuses. Paris: Fayard, 1960. ¯ A critical review of this drama was given by P. L. Barjon, S.J. in Etudes, February, 1961, pp. 251-57. ' "4. ,4. "4. Henri Holstein, s.J., teaches theology at the Institut Catholiqu, e in Paris. '~ ~' VOLUME 20, 1961 317 Henri Holstein, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 to religious life? I believe the reason is that religious poses a problem for modern man; in its own way religious life is a sign of contradiction which ~ angers, shocks, and at times arouses iriescapable questions. If one reflects and considers the matter, religious life by its an.d by its numbeis is a social fact to which modern man can not remaiff~ indifferent, desacralizedas he and living in a paganized atmosphere. This has been stated by Mademoiselle Cita-Malard when she writes religious women, the number of whom she estimates to a million: Is it not a paradox that out of two and half billion human beings and out of about five hundred million Catholics, million women have renounced forever--and in most cases even before personal experienc.e in the matter--the pleasures and the servitudes of the flesh and that they have stripped them-selves of everything, even their own will, either to follow publicly the strict and minute obligations which impose COmmon life on them or to free themselves for a more or !hidden apostolate in their milieu and prof~ssi0n, an apostolate which makes of their life an Oblation without reserve? What have pledged themselves to is directly opposed to the liberties claimed by Ouroindependent, self, centeoroed, sensual age? To this situation, so loudly underscored by:t_he indiscrete means of communication of our era, only we canbring answer by our life and our witness. Doubtless, this Witness will come from religious themselves, for, eveh if people do'not admit it to us, they nevertheless watch u~; si'nce dress and our way of life attract their attention; but witness will come especially from Catholics who Should able to explain to any man of good will what religious in the Catholic Church means. Accordingly; I hope present to y6u what, you already know in a kind of theo-logical synthesis and to give you in ~a simple way :the stitutive essentials of the religious life. Of the two partsof.this conference, the first will attempt [o show religious life as the fullness of baptism; the second will emphasize the .nature 6[ the witness given in and the Church by the religious who is a witness of heaven w~ll as a witness of the love of Jesus Christ for all men, brethren. Religious Life the Fullness~ of Baptism "Religious life," canon 1law tells us, "is a s~able c~o~mmunity way of ili[e in ~hich the faithful besides precepts common to all propose to observe as wello th evangelical counsels, through the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (c. 487). ~ Un million de religieuses, pp. 6-7. ~ In constitutions ~nd, vow formulas the,order is usually reversed "poverty, chastity, and obedience." Was not the purpose of th legislator, however, to show here the p~eeminence of the vow o obedience as mentioned in the well-known text of John XXIII o this matter? ~ In analyzing the obligations of religious life, this legal text first mentions the precepts common'to all Christians to which, it is evident, religious are also bound. It then adds .that besides these religious take on the observance of the evangelical counsels, obligating themselves to these by the observance of the required vows lived out not in isolation but--as far as there is question of religious life in the proper sense of the term--in a stable and commun-ity life. This description might seem to say that religious life claims of those who profess it something more than the Church demands of "ordinary Christians/' This, however, would .not be completely exact. Our Lord's command to be perfect as the heavenly Father holds for al.1, and the exigencies of baptism are the same for all the faithful. But the religious, in responding to a call that comes from our Lord and is acknowledged as such by. the Church when she admits to the vows of religion, intends to live this baptismal perfection in aradical way that by a definitive and irrevocable intention suppresses, the obstacles that might hinder or retard his fervor. "Every Christian," Pius XII said, "is invited to strive with all his powers for the ideal of Christian perfection; but it is realized .in a more complete and.sure way in. the states of perfectton. In religious life there is no question of a Christian ideal 3f life other than that~imposed on every baptized person; it is rather a matter of a complete and total effort to live 3ut in an authentic way the life begun by baptism. The .ame program of perfection is proposed to all; the Gospel s directed to all Christians; religious know no other code of perfection. The originality of religious consists in the ~doption'of radical means which permit them to give full ealization to their baptism; this is done in a prescribed ¯nd organic way within an institute or religious family :pproved by theChurch. In response to a call of our Lord, ,there takes place, at he beginning and origin of religious life a consecration vhich is complete and irrevocable for the heart which hakes it even before the person's lips are authorized to ormulate it publicly before the Church. This consecra-ion, which has .all the fervor and generosity of those -spousals with our Lord of which S~t. Paul speaks, is a lear-sighted and exacting renewal of baptismal-consecra-ion. .~ The life of every Christian is a consecrated one, since n ineradicable character marks it with the baptismal par-icipation in the death and resurrection" of Christ. Every ,aptized person is conformed to Christ; that is, he is T Discourse of December 9, 1957. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 50 ~958), p. 36. 4. 4. ÷ Religious 319 4. 4. 4. Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 320 regenerated to His likeness, is a member of His Body, and in Him is an adopted son of the Father, Religious profession is not a second baptism: there can be no such thing, but only renewals, more or less fervent, of the baptismal promises. Religious profession--and this is its grandeur and its seriousness---is a decisive act which binds the one who makes it to the obligation of a strict living out of his baptism by forbidding to him everything which could be opposed to the life of the new man. The negative aspects of religious life--separation, re-nouncement, despoiling--which are the first things to capture the attention of the general public as well as of relatives who are present at an investiture or a profession, are nothing else than the execution of this program of radi-cal renouncement which baptism implies. "We are dead with Christ . " says St. Paul. "Regard yourselves as dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus. Let sin rule no longer in your mortal body . " (Rom 6:8-12). The demands of baptism are understood by the religious with a total fullness. If it is necessary to renounce sin, then it is necessary to separate oneself from all the occasions of sin, from everything which would be capable of attaching us to a master other than Christ, from-that world for which Christ refused to pray. To renounce sin, says St. Paul, is to refuse to submit to lust. Accordingly, the re-ligious renounces those earthly lusts which are represented by money, by the body, and by self-will; he separates him-self from these by his vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence which in their very austerity represent for him a welcome liberation. In this there is no unconscious self-pity or masochism'. There is only the liberating conclusion of a logic which dares to take literally and without gloss or casuistry the abrupt words of the Gospel. Ever since an Anthony left his town and his family to bury himself in the desert when he heard read in church the gospel passage, "Go, sell what you own," and ever since a Francis of Assisi despoiled himself of all he possessed and returned it all--even :his clothing--to his father, religious life has known the joyous liberty of understanding our Lord literally and ol leaving all to follow Him. This would ,be a childishly imprudent act were it not dictated by a total confidence in the promise of our Lord "The folly of youth," say the wise, when they hear of young men and young women who joyfully put themselves withir the cloister or who bring themselves to enclose their whoh lives within the barriers of obedience and chastity, But i is.not the folly of youth; it is the folly of God who is wise than the wisdom of the prudent, For it is not s~lf-con fidence which brings a person to religious life; and if on should enter in a burst of enthusiasm, the long month of the novitiate would suffice to extinguish it. What leads one to religion is a humble confidence in our Lord who calls, a confidence that is capable of checking an under-standable apprehension and even at times a fear bordering on panic. Like St. Peter, the r~ligi6us makes up'his mind to let down the net only at the word of Jesus. And when the inevitable illusions of the first fervor have yielded place to that maturity of religious life which has been described so profoundly and accurately by Father Voillaume in his recent Lettres aux [raternitds of the Little Brothers of Jesus, then there appears in all its naked grace the power of hope to sustain the religious. More than in his early days, he realizes that what he proposes is humanly senseless; but he also realizes that the power of our Lord sustains him day after day and that it allows him to ad-vance up the steep road which he has chosen. Those who come to us, St. Ignatius of Loyola used to say to his first companions, must pray over it for a long time so that "the Spirit who urges them may also give them the grace of hoping to be able to carry the weight of their vocation with His aid.''s But religious life must not be defined by its negative characteristics, as though a religious placed his. happiness in the restrictions of strict cloister and of stifling prohibi-tions. The truth about religious life--and unfortunately this was left in the shadows in thememoirs of Sister Luke --is that it is the road on which one accompanies Christ as closely as possible; it is the means of imitating and fol-lowing Him as loyally as human weakness permits. If he avoids the sources of earthly desires, the religious knows very well that this is done only to remove the obstacles which spring up between him and Christ. "Whoever wishes to be my disciple," said Christ, "must renounce himself, take up his cross, and follow me." It is not a case of the cross for the sake of the cross nor of suffering for the sake of suffering; it is for the sake of being with Jesus. As Charles de Foucauld wrote in his notes: I can not conceive of a love for Christ] without an overwhelm-ing craving for likeness; for resemblance, and above all for a share in the pains, difficulties, and hardships of life . To be rich, comfortable, living contentedly with my possessions when You Were poor, uncomfortable, living a painful life of hard labor for me . I can not love You in such a way. The separation and the renouncements of religious life which each day accomplish in the religious the "death with Christ" of his baptism are considered by him as so many means of resurrecting with Christ. Better still, his vows appear to him as the attitudes of a person already resurrected. s In Christus, v. 7 (1960), p. 250. 4. 4- 4. Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 321 Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For religious life is not a life of dying, it is a resurrected life. The Lord who is followed is not only the poor work-man of Nazareth and the crucified one of Golgotha, He is also the Lord of glory who appeared on the radiant morn-ing of Easter. And the One to whom virgins give them-selves on the morning of their profession and whom they choose as their Spouse is not only the agonizing Christ of Gethsemane but is as well the Lamb in the paschal splen-dor of His triumph. Already they belong to the procession of virgins who follow the Lamb wherever He goes; their virginal promise is the beginning of the eternal espousals which the Lamb intends to anticipate with them here on earth. By virginity, Christ becomes the only Spouse of their heart. At first view, the vow of chastity is a refusal. Its ef-fect seems to be that of a total renouncement--renounce-ment of the senses, renouncement of affection, renounce-ment of a family. It demands that one leave his family and it forbids all hope of ever founding a family. In reality, however, the vow of chastity is an assuming of a total and exclusive belonging to our Lord. The religious who as-sumes it refuses all idea of a partial belonging; thereby he expresses his desire for that total consecration which re-ligious life realizes as the fullness of baptism. This is the behavior of the new man for whom nothing of the old man, nothing of the partial, nothing of the worldly can make sense. Furthermore, chastity gives its meaning to .the vows of poverty and obedience which in turn give to it their own dimension not of repression, but of a complete spiritual expansion in a total love. For poverty is not the sad ac-ceptance of small privations and of petty dependence; it is the gesture of confidence by one who is no longer anx-ious about those things which the heavenly Father knows we have need of: Moreover, poverty is a refusal to be weighed down by the things of earth and by the cares which afflict those who possess things, making them always fearful of losing or decreasing their precious little treas-ures. The religious knows of another treasure: the love of our Lord which leaves him no time to be occupied in the acquiring of riches, the manipulation of capital, and the preserving of property. Poverty is the testimony of the love given to the divine Spouse by one who has chosen Him in an undivided way. Not~only does the religious place his confidence in Him with regard to his temporal life, he also detaches himself from every self-anxiety and from the monopolizing desire for possessions, d6ing this in order that he might give himself wholly to the Spouse of his soul. Chastity, which is the choosing of our Lord alone,~and poverty, which refuses to allow a person to be monop- lized by any selfish interest, mutually complement each ther. And by the conjunction of these two, obedience re-eives all its meaning. Obedience can easilyJappea~, to be n infantile submission; actually in the eyes of faith it is preferring of the will of God. Defined in the negative 2rms of renouncement of .initiative and independence~ bedience is a caricature that is ridiculous and hateful. It as value only so far as it is an ardent search for the good ,leasure of the One who is loved. Christ Himself said that Iis food was to do the will of His Father. Accordingly, the eligious has only one nourishment: the will of our Lord ;hich is the will of the Father who is the only guide of the ctivity of the only begotten Son: "I always do whatever s pleasing to him." The superior, this brother or this sister who commands ,le, is important for me only because he represents Christ. The abbot," says St. Benedict, "takes the place of Christ." t is Christ whom through faith I hear and see in _my uperior. The man does not interest me, even though he ,e a saint, a genius, or a dear friend. It is Christ who is the ,bject of my obedience; it is to Him that I render my .omage in performing what is commanded me in His ,ame. There is good reason for saying that "obedience is n attitude of faith and love only if it is chaste; that is, if t is inspired.by the exclusive love o,f 9ur Lord." Otherwise t becomes degraded and turns into an interested con- 9rmism or into an Unacceptable infantilism. In religious life, all the elements are consistent with.~ach .ther; chastity, which is an espousal and a consecration ~ Christ, gives its own characteristic mark to a life that is ,oor and dependent through obedience; for these two ows, if they are to be genuine in both great and little hings, imply an exclusive choice of Christ as the only pouse of one's soul. This is why there must be a question here of ~vows, of tatutory promises which oblige one's whole life, thereby arpassing the unstable impulse of a moment of fervor. ¯ ove demands definitive commitments, it engages the ,hole life, it gives assurance for the future. All this which among men is often only an illusion 'hich the future may soon contradict unless the love is ~oted in prayer and nourished by recollection is made ossible for the re.ligious by his original and constantly 2newed confidence in the grace of Him who has called. The religious vow is the instrument of that consecra-on which realizes the baptismal consecration in all the lentitude 9f its demands. If at first view it appears as an ll-out effort to excludeand eradicate the obstacles which re opposed to the perfection of baptismal life, neverthe-ss the religious vow signifies the total consecration of ÷ + ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 20, 196]. Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 324 one's whole life to our Lord. It is included in the initia "consecration" which Christ made when He came into world: "I have come, O Father, to do thy will1" The Ser vant has no other intention than that of accomplishing work for which He was sent into the world; for tliat reasor His sole occupation will be to do the will of the Father In line with this consecration of our Lord and in ticipation of this "intention" of the Incarnate Word, religious places himself in the hands of God. As Fathe Bergh has said: The vow is the expression of a positive consecration to divim love. God loved above everything; there in short is the mean ing of religious life . Its program should not be enunciatec precisely in the abstract terms of poverty, chastity, and obedi ence, but rather under the concrete form 0[ a loving imitatior of Christ poor, chaste, and obedient, of Christ the Servant of th~ Father and of men? Religious Life a Witness in the Church Up to this point we have looked at religious life onl, from the viewpoint of a personal relation that unites to our Lord, Now, however, it is necessary to consider in the Church. To do this, we shall consider two points First, the significance of religious life in relation Church and second, the testimony ~to the Church whirl religious life gives to the world. What then does religious life signify in relation to Church?~In other words, why does the Church, withou whose consent there could not be ~ community or an stitute professing the life of the counsels, recognize amon[ her baptized children the existence of groups which order to live out their baptismal life in a more radical oblige themselves publicly to the observance of poverty chastity, and obedience? It seems to me that by the ligious life the Church expresses her own proper mystery The purpose of religious life is to concretize and to realization to the mystery of the bride who is without In the admirable fifth chapter of the Letter to Ephesians, St. Paul presents the Church as the bride whon Christ has chosen for Himself. In order to make her hol~ and to "present to himself the Church in all her glory, having spot or wrinkle," He delivered Himself for Being submitted to Christ, the Churcti has for Him deference and respect, the discreet and fervent love whicl the Bible constantly presents as the expression of the sponse of the creature to his Creator. This is a virgina union which is consummated in those "nuptials of Lamb" to which the angel invited the seer of the Apoc~ lypse: "Come, I will show you the spouse of the Lamb., "And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming dow, ~ In Revue diocesaine de Tournai, v. 15 (1960), p. 18. tom out of heaven from God, made ready as a young bride :dorned for her husband" (Ap 21:9,2), The holy bride has lo gifts other than those .given ~her by her Spouse--the :lorious heritage which He acquired by His Blood; could he, then, have any other desire thafi to follow her Spouse :nd to accomplish His entire will: "The Church," says ¯ aint Paul, "submits to Christ" (Eph 5:24)? ~ If all Christian living manifests in its own way the nystery of the Church, is it not fitting that certain ones hould have the particular duty:of manifesting the mystery ,f the virginal bride in its complete authenticity? These :re those who among all the redeemed have the singular ,rivilege of following the .Lamb wherever He goes; for 'they are virgins." Theirs is an absolute and undivided ove which blossoms in holy poverty and lov!ng obedience; t is the mystery of the Church and her consecrated ones. Through religious life the Church manifests her own ~roper mystery to herself and to the world.-This is why eligious life is so dear to her; it is the reason why through he voices of her leaders, especially the recent Popes, she ~ever ceases to increase her efforts to maintain the cor-ectness of religious life in its striving for sanctity: Holy Mother Church has always Striven with solicitous ~are nd maternal affection for the children of her predilection who ,ave given their whole lives to Christ in order to follow Him reely on the arduous path of the counsels that she might onstantly render them worthy of their heavenly resolve and ngelic vocation?° Religious, by reason of the vocation which surpasses hem and which they know themselves unworthy of, are an ntimate witness to the Church herself; at the same time hey are a witness of the Church to all those who see them ive. Nourished in the Church and directed by her, they ,ear witness to her and show forth that the Church in its nmost reality is truly the bride whom Christ has chosen or Himself. First of all, religious give testimony to the sense of God. )ur modern world has lost this to the extent, that even qany Christians do not understand the contemplative ire; their attitude is a questioning one: "Of what use is t?" To this I would answer that to judge religious life by ts relation to human utility is to condemn oneself to fisunderstand it. I readily maintain the paradox that eligious life is not justified by its usefulness for men but ,y its value in the sight of God. In its primary meaning it ppears useless to the city of man, for the precise reason hat it exists in its entirety for God. Speaking o[ contemplation, Mademoiselle Ceta-Millard uotes the phrase of Joan of Arc, "God the first to be _'rved." I would be tempted to einphasize this even more ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 114. 4- 4- 4- Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 325 Henri Holstein, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by saying,, "God the 0nly one to be servedl" This is wh there are in the Church contemplative orders, monasterie of prayer--Carmelites, Poor Clares, Carthusians, Tral~ pists. Their proper witness is to recall to men the im portance of prayer, the urgency of penance, the necessit for adoration. But this same witness is also given by every genuin religious life. Under pain of an anemia'that would quickl become fatal, religious life must always include prayel It can exist and is able to flourish only by reason of spirit of prayer which animates every hour of the day, n matter how filled it may be with the care of the sick, th education of children, the help of the aged or the undel developed. In order to create a suitable climate, there added to prayer religious observance, the rule of silenc~ cloister. One may be tempted to smile at these or to b scandalized by them. Every tradition can manifest a tain rigidity; at times inevitable minutiae may make n ligious life a little out-of-date or unadapted to the time But these are simple human weaknesses which the Churc herself does not hesitate to remedy. To judge religiou tradition by such details is to give proof of pettiness c spirit. W.hat is at stake here and what justifies the ot servances of religious life is the need and the desire to s~ up a favorable climate for prayer. For religious life is a present heralding and'anticipatio of the eternal life to which we are destined by our ba[ tism. It shows forth that this present world is not the onl one, but that there exists a true city in comparison wit which the city of this world with its bustle and its.narro~ cares is vanity. This is the often emphasized eschatologic~ meaning of the vow of chastity: It is an anticipation of th life of heaven; on this earth where the body and sensualit count for so much, it represents "the life of the angels as lived by beings of flesh and blood. Turned toward th heavenly Jerusalem, religious already attempt to live th~ which will be their condition in heaven. "That which will all be," said St. ,~mbrose to the virgins of his tim, "you have already begun to be, Already in this world, yo possess the glory of the resurrection; you live in time, bt without the defilements of time, In persevering in chastit you are the equals of the angels of God." This eschatological witness must be extended to th entirety of religious life. As Father Giuliani writes: Being .a complete break with the world, religious life is witness gwen to the Kingdom of God. Through his life of po erty, chastity, and obedience, the religious makes apparent reality that is begun here below for all, but which will be vealed in its fullness only in the world of the resurrection. is poor in order to affirm that God constitutes the riches of elect in the city of the blessed; he is chaste in order to affirm th there will be no other nuptials other than that of God and H people; he is obedient in order to affirm that the liberty of the creature consists in submission to the full accomplishment, of the will of God. Thus it is that in the Church on earth the re-ligious is a witness to the Church of glory,a But at the same time and by a sort of paradox, religious life also manifests in the Church the charity of Christ who willed to share our condition. To present religious life only as an anticipation of heaven risks considering it as a comfortable evasion, a charge, often enough directed against it. Are religious dispensed from one of the two facets of the great commandment, the one .that commands love of neighb.or? God forbid, for. then they would no longer be Christians. Besides, one has only to recall the multiplication in the Church of charitable orders, insti-tutes, and congregations to reduce to nothing the objec-tion of laziness and flight made against religious life. Contrary to this objection, it can be shown that religious life in its essence is a life of devotion to the neighbor. Pope Pius XlI in the constitution Sponsa Christi has stated this without ambiguity: Since the perfection of Christian life consists especially in charity, and since it is really one and the same charity with which we must love God alone above all and all: men ir~ Him, Holy Mother Church demands of all nuns who canonicallyproo fess alife of'contemplation, together with aperfect love of God, also a perfect love of the neighbor; and for the sake of this charity and their state of life, religious men and women must devote themselves wholly to the needs of the Church and of all those who are in .want. If out of love for Christ a religious consecrates himself to only one thing, the following of Christ as closely as 'possible, then it becomes unthinkable that he should be disinterested in the work of redemption, the salvation of the world. The love of God, which is sovereignly jealous, is also sovereignly generous; this love desires the good, even the temporal good, of all men. The commandment of mutual love .is primary for all religious, and religious life gives testimony in the Church to the charity of God. The witness of religious, then, will be a witness of fra-ternal charity, Of a charity that is patient, inventive, char-acterized by the unfetterable impulses of missionary zeal, of pedagogical discoveries, of parental solicitude. Is there a single kind of suffering, of sickness, or of infirmity which religious life has not sought to care for in the course of history? The almost infinite variety of hospital and teach-ing congregations represent a sort of diffraction of charity towards the neighbor; it is touching to discover at the origin of a given institute the desire to take charge of a particular type of misfortune which seemed to the founder not to have received sufficient care. Although admittedly "In Etudes, June, 1957, p. 397. 4- 4- + Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 327 Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 328 it is often overly dispersed, such an attitude is a magnifi-cent and multiform witness given by religious life of a tireless and tirelessly inventive charity, renewed each day by prayer and union with Christ. This last characteristic must be emphasized. The apos-tolate and the devotion of religious draw their strength and their constancy from the consecration of their life to the Lord. It is ~his consecration that enables religious to be kind and sympathetic to the unfortunate and the afflicted. Likewise it is this consecration that makes it possible for a religious to interest himself in everything that is human, in science, in literature, in the arts. Did not our Lord who took on Himself every infirmity, also assume by His in-carnation every authentic human value? Conclusion This is the witness to the Church which is constantly given in silence and modesty by religious life. It does give witness for itself, but for the Church which has it, accepted it, encouraged it, and which does not cease to be interested in it. Moreover the religious does not give testimony for his own limited congregation, but the entire Church of Christ. Religious life manifests the magnificent fecundity of Church of which the Vatican Council speaks, in the fra-ternal diversity of vocations and spiritualities, religious life is a permanent sign of both the catholicity and unity of the Church. For on the magnificent path which our Lord calls all of them to follow, there is the same love of Christ, the same faithful adherence to the Gospel as the unique rule of their attitudes, the same charity welcoming every appeal of suffering, of education, of the apostolate. And all this takes place in the calm and serene joy those who, having given Up all for our Lord, know that even here below they have 'received the hundredfold. Who are better witnesses than religious of the joy the children of God and of the children of the Church? True, they do not have a monopoly of this, for they lay claim to nothing, not even the peace which radiates from. their faces. But the joy of their Lord which they always bear about with them--they know well that no one can take it from them. The joy of religious life is perhaps the most constant and the most efficacious trait of its witness. This is so pre-cisely because it manifests itself spontaneous~ly without being conscious of itself and without imposing itself upon those it meets. Julien Green relates that on a walk in the United States during the .war he visited a scholasticate of religious order. To the young man who was showing him through the large establishment, he would have liked ask a single question, a question more important to him han all the details of architecture and of theological programs that the young man was giving him. The .fiues-tion he wished to ask was one addressed to the young man personally, since he was a person.about whom some might think that his ardent youth had been enclosed within the ~ad walls of a seminary and the complicated prescriptions of a rule. The question was this: "Young man, are you happy here?" But, continues the diary of the novelist, I :lid not have the courage to ask the question. "For my guide had about him the radiant air of those who feel themselves loved by heaven.''12 ~ Julien Green, Journal, v. 4, p. 106. ÷ Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 329 I~'; 'LEGRAND The Prophetical Meanin of Celibaq ÷ L. Legrand is on the faculty of St. Peter's Seminary, Bangalore, India. REVIEW FOR ~RELIGIOU~S 330 When Jephte's daughter realized that she had to in fulfilment of her father's vow, she withdrew mountains "to bewail her virginity" (Jg 11:37-40).significant that what she laments over is her virginity For hers.elf, her father, her companions, and those wh~ recorded that tradition, what made her fate so pitifu was not the fact that she had to leave the world in bloom of her youth: this is a romantic view which not belong to the stern biblical times. For the Israelite the pathos of her story lies in the fact that she will experience the joys of matrimony and motherhood. will die a virgin, and it is a curse, a disgrace similar the shame attached to sterility (see Lk 1:25). The prophet have a similar thought in mind when, in their lamenta tions, they give the chosen people the title of "Virgin Israel": "Listen to my lamentation, house of Israel!. has fallen, she shall not rise again, the Virgin of Israel." this text Amos (5:2; see J1 1:8; Lam 1 : 15; 2:13), by callin~ Israel a Virgin, wants to emphasize her misery: she will like a virgin, without leaving any descendants. It is like echo, at the collective level, of the laments of Jephte' daughter. These examples show clearly that according to the Semitic mentality, virginity is far from being an It is a fecund matrimony which is honorable and a of God's blessings (Ps 126). The same applies to men L. K6hler remarks that the Old Testament has no wore for bachelor, so unusual is the idea.~ Christ will change that attitude towards celibacy 19:12). But can we not find already in the Old Testamen a preparation and an anticipation of His teaching? Towards the end of the Old Testament period at leas some groups among the Essenes observed celibacy. This article is reprinted with permission from Scripture, Octobe 1960. pp. 97-105, and January, 1961, pp. 12-20. =Hebrew Man (Loudon: S.C.M., 1956), p. 89. fortunately the authors who mention it are very vague on the motives of that observance. Josephus (The Jewish ,,War, II, 8; 2) and Philo (quoted by Eusebius in Prepara-tion for the Gospel, VIII, 2; Patrologia Graeca, 21, 644 AB), putting themselves at the level of their pagan readers, reduce the celibacy of the Essenes to a misogyny entirely void of any religious value: "They beware of the impu-dence of women and are convinced that none of them can keep her faith to a single man," says Josephus. Pliny (Natural History, V, 17) describes the Essenes as philoso-phers, "tired of life" (vita fessos), who give up. the pleasures of love: Essenian celibacy would be of a Stoician type, but evidently Pliny's competency can be doubted when it comes to interpreting the motives of a Hebrew sect. The Qumran texts might have given us an explanation, but so far on this. question they have not been Very helpful. Though they know of a temporary continence on the occasion of the eschatological war,3 they do not impose .celibacy on the members of the community. On the con-trary, the prologue of the m~inual for the future congre-gation speaks explicitly of women and children,4 and the discovery of female skeletons in the cemetery of the com-munity5 makes it cl~ar that at Qumran as in the sect of DamascusS---if the two sects were distinct--matrimony was at least allowed. In short, a few groups among the Essenes present an interesting case of pre-Christian celi-bacy; the study of thai case might throw some light on the New Testament ideal of virginity, but such a study is impaired by the lack of reliable explanation of their mo-tives. And when we come across first,hand contemporary documentation, it happens that it concerns a sect which ~id not observe celibacy as a rule. ~qremiah, the First Celibate Fortunately the Old Testament presents a much more ancient and clearer case of celibacy: the case of Jeremiah, "a virgin prophet and a figure of the Great Phophet who too was a Virgin and the son of a Virgin.''7 Jeremiah was apparently the first biblical character to embrace celibacy as a state of life. At least he is the first one to whom Scripture attributes celibacy explicitly. Others before him may have abstained from marriage. Ancient Christian writers often suppose that Elijah did so3 and make of him s The War o[ the Children o! Light, VII, 3, 4. iSee Theodore Gaster, The Dead Sea Scriptures (Garden City: Doubleday, 1957), p. 307. 5 See Revue biblique, 63 (1956), pp. 569-72; 6 Document o[ Damascu.~', IV, 20-V, 6; VII, 6-8. 7 Bossuet, Mdditations sur l'dvangile, 109th day. SSee the texts in Elie le prophOte (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1956), V, 1, pp. 165 and'189. But St. Augustine was not convinced of the celibacy of Elias: De Genesi ad litteram, IX, 6. 4, The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 ,+ L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the father of monastic life. But the testimony of Scripture concerning Elijah is purely negative: no wife is mentioned, but the Bible does not speak of his celibacy either. Even if he remained a celibate, we have no indication as to the reasons that prompted him. Jeremiah, on the contrary, in his confessions speaks of his celibacy and explaim it. We may owe this insight on his private life to his intro-spective mood, another quality that was rare in ancient Israel. Anyway he provides us with the most ancient re-flection on celibacy. In it we can trace to its beginnings the biblical doctrine of virginity: The word of the Lord came to me saying: Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place. For thus says the Lord concerning the sons and daughters that are born here and concerning the mothers that bore them and concerning their fathers who begot them in this land: They shall die miserably, without being lamented, without being buried. . They shall be as dung upon the face of the earth. They shall perish by the sword and by famine. Their carcasses shall be a prey for the birds of the air and the wild animals (Jer 16:1-4). Those are the terms by which Jeremiah explains his .celibacy. Are those verses to be understood as a positive order of God, given to the prophet when he came of age and enjoining him to abstain from matrimony? It might be said that celibacy was progressively imposed upon the prophet by the circumstances, his isolation, and the per-secutions that made him an outcast. Eventually he would have understood that beneath those circumstances there was a divine ordinance and, with typical Hebrew disre-gard for secondary causes, he would have expressed it in the literary form of an order. In any case, it is clear that Jeremiah gives his celibacy a symbolical value. The loneliness of his unmarried life forebodes the desolation of Israel. Death is about to sweep over the country, Jere-miah's forlorn celibacy is nothing but an enacted proph-ecy of the imminent doom. Calamity will be such as to make meaningless matrimony and procreation. Jeremiah's celibacy is to be understood as a prophecy in action. Symbolical actions were frequent among the prophets. Thus to announce the imminent captivity of the Egyptians, Isaiah walks naked in the streets of Jeru-salem (Is 20:1-6). Jeremiah breaks a pot to symbolize the destruction of the capital (Jer 19:1-11). Ezekiel makes a plan of the siege to come, cooks impure food as the famished inhabitants of the besieged city will have to do, cuts his beard and scatters it to the four winds as the population of Judah will be scattered (Ez 4:1-5:4). In some cases it was the whole life of a prophet which was given by God a symbolical significance: for instance, Hosea's matrimonial misfortunes symbolized the unhapPy~ relations between Yahweh and His unfaithful spouse Israel (Hos 1:3). Jeremiah's life too was symbolical. He lived in times of distress. He was to be a witness of the destruction of Sion. It was his sad duty to announce~the imminent deso-lation: "Every time I have to utter the word, I must shout and proclaim: Violence and ruinsl" (Jet 20:8). Still more: it was his tragic destiny to anticipate in his existence and signify in his own life the terrible fate of. the "Virgin of Israel." "The Virgin of Israel" was soon to undergo the fate of Jephte's daughter, to die childless, to disappear with-out hope. With his prophetical insight, Jeremiah could see already the shadow of death spreading over the coun-try. He could hear already the moaning of th~ land: "Teach your daughter this lamentation: Death has climbed in at our windows; she has entered our palaces, destroyed the children in the street, the young men in the square. Corpses lie like dung all over the country" (Jet 9:20-21). This was 'no mere Oriental exaggeration. What Israel was about to witness and Jeremiah had to announce was really the death of Israel. Israel .,had been living by the covenant and now, by the sin of the people, the cove-nant had been broken. The two institutions in which the covenant was embodied and through which God's graces came down upon the people, the two great signs of God's indwelling in the land. of His choice, the temple and the kingship, would soon disappear. Only a few years more and Nabuchodonosor would invade Judah, burn the sanctuary, enslave the king and kill his children. For the Israelites this would be the end 6f the world, the day of the Lord, day of doom and darkness, day of i~eturn to the original chaos (Jer 4:23-31; 15:2-4). Ezekiel will explain in a dramatic way the meaning of the fall of Jerusalem: the Glory of God will leave His defiled abode and abandon the land (Ez 8:1-11:25). Israel will die and nothing short of a resurrection will bring her back to life (Ez 37:1-14). When the exiles leave Palestine, Rachel'can sing her dirge at Rama (Jer 31:15): her children are no more. Israel as a people has disappeared. God's people has been dispersed. There are no more heirs of the promises and ~children of the covenant unless God repeats the Exodus and creates a new people. A testament is over. God's plan has apparently failed. Death reigns. Prophetically Jeremiah sees all that beforehand. He experiences it proleptically in his flesh. Excluded from the Temple (Jer 36:5), excommunicated so to say from his village (Jer 11:8; 12:6; 11:19-23) and from the community (Jer 20:2; 36:25), he will experience before the exile what it means to live estranged from one's country, away 4. + The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Legran~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the Temple of the Lord. Before the Israelites he knows the bitter taste of a life which has no hope left on earth. "Never could I sit joyful in the company of those who were happy; forlorn I was under the power of thy hand for thou hadst filled me with wrath'~ (Jer 15:17). Thus was Jeremiah's life an anticipation of the im-minent doom. His celibacy too. When death :already casts her shadow over the land, is it a time to marry? "For thus says Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel: Behold I will put an end, in this place, under your very eyes and in your very days, to the shouts of.gladness and of mirth, to the songs of the bride and of the bridegroom" (Jer ~16:9). An end of joy, life, marriage: the country turns into a sheol: there is no marriage and no begetting in the sheol. The command of the Lord to "increase and multiply" (Gen 1:28) assumed that the world was good (Gen 1:4, 10). But now 'that man's sin has aroused death, the Lord re-verses His command: "Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place." Jeremiah's life of solitude announces the reign of death and anticipates the end of the world he lived in. His celibacy is in line with his message of doom. It is part of those trials by which "the most~suffering of the prophets," as St, Isidorus of Pelusia puts it;9 anticipates God's judgment. It is ~part of the sufferings which point to the cross, the final expression of God!s judgment. The solitude of the lonely prophet of Anatoth announces the dereliction-of the crucified vic-tim of Calvary. It has the same significance: it signifies the end of an economy in which God's promises and graces were entrusted to Israel according to the flesh and communicated by way of generation. This order dis-appears. When God will raise a new Israel, it will be an Israel according to the spirit .in which one will have access not by right of birth but by direct reception of the Spirit'(Jer 31:31-35). In such a people the fecundity of the flesh will have lost its value. The Negative Aspect of CelibacyI" "'On Account ol the Present Necessity" Replying to a question of the Corinthians concerning virgins, St. Paul's advice is to leave them" in that state: But,the explanation,he gives is not very clear; "I consider that it is better to be so on, account of the present neces-sity" (1 Cor 7:26). What is that "present necessity" that justifies celibacy? Catholic commentators (Cornely, Lemonnier, Allo, Cal-lan, W. Rees, Osty, and others) see in that "necessity;" as Osty puts it, "the thousand worries of married life,"x0 o In Patrologia graeca, 78, 356. ~ Epttres aux Corinthiens ~Bible de ]~rusalem) (Paris: Cerf, 1949), p. 40. or else the imminent persecutions "which'an unmarried person is better able to bear.''11 The standpoint of the Apostle would be purely individual, psychological or as-cetical. On him who is married the burden of the world is more heavy. The celibate, on the contrary, can devote himself fully to the service of God. ,~ Such a thought is certainly not foreign to St. Paul's mind: he expresses it in verses 39 to 35 of, the same chap-ter. Yet this does not seem to be for him a primary consider-ation. The immediate explanation he gives of his pref-erence for celibacy follows another line: "The time is short . The world in its present form is passing away" (vv 99- 31). This shows that his outlook is mainly collective and eschatological: the end of the world is~'drawing near: let us adapt our attitude to these new circumstances; it istime to detach ourselves from a ~d0omed world. "Even those who have a wife, let themlive as if they had none., and those who have to deal with the world as if they had not." Individual considerations are only an application,,of this iiew on the divine economy. It is because the'times we re' living in are the times of the end that it is better not to be burdened with matrimonial obligations, so as to be able to give one's undivided attention to God. The vocabulary used by St. Paul in this section confirms this ~schatological interpretation of his views on cdibacy. The words he uses clearly belong to the vocabulary of apocalyptic literature. The "necess.ity" (andgk~) .whs the technical term used to describe the crisis of the last times (Lk 21:23; 1 The~ 3:7; Ps.Sal,,5:8; Test jos,,2~.4.);.,in th~t sense it is akin to "tribulation (thlipsis) used l~e.re also to describe the present condition (v 98) a.nd which has also an apocalyptic value (Mt 25: 9-28; Ap 1.: 9~; 7:14; 2 Thes ! : 6), Similarly the term used for "time" in verse 29 (ttairos) 'is about a technical term for the period before the Ad-- vent''12 (see Rom 13:11; Heb 9:9; 1 Pet 1:5, 11). It is true that these terms are not always taken in their technical eschatological sense. But their convergence and the con-text make it clear that St. Paul sets virginity against an eschatological background. With Jeremiah he considers celibacy as a testimony that the last times have come, an attitude that presages the end. The difficulty of this interpretation--an.d what makes Catholic commentators to shrink from it--is that it seems to suppose in St. Paul the erroneous belief that the end bf the world was imminent. Can we 'accept such an ex-n W. Rees in Catholic Commentary on Holy Scripture (Edin-burgh: Nelson, 1953), p. 1090. ~ A. Robertson andA. Plummer, First Epistle o[ St. Paul. (Edin-burgh: T. and T. Clark, 1911), p. 152 . ÷ ÷ ÷ The Mean~ing Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Le~and REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 planation of celibacy without rallying to the consequent eschatology of A. Schweitzer?xa Prat, followed by Huby and Spicq, does not think the objection decisive. He accepts as possible the eschatologi-cal explanation of virginity. Quoting I Corinthians 7:26- 31, he explains: "Is it possible that Paul was haunted by the near prospect of the Parousia? We must not deny this a priori . Lacking certain knowledge, he might have formed an opinion based upon probabilities and con-jectures . It is at least possible that he guided his con-duct and his counsels by such probabilities.TM This inter-pretation can be defended, provided we attribute to Paul not a positive teaching concerning the imminence of an event, the day and hour of which none can know, but an opinion, a desire, a hope without certitude,x~ This is surely sufficient to safeguard biblical inerrancy and remain within the limits fixed by the Biblical Commission, Yet this exegesis is not fully satisfactory, for it leaves the im-pression that the eschatologic~il explanation~of celibacy should not be taken too seriously. It would be one of those views that reflect more the prejudices of the time than the Apostle's personal thought, like the arguments bY which Paul tries to justify the imposition of the veil-on women in the assembly (1 Cot 11:2-16) or the midrashic allusion to the rock following the Jews in the deser~t (1 Cor 10:4) Thus St. Paul would have used the naive expectation of an imminent Parousia to insist on virginity, but that would be a mer_e argumentum ad hominem that should not be pressed too "much. The real and solid ground fo~ celibacy would remain the personal and ascetical con-siderations sketched in verses 32 to 34. Accepting Prat's eschatological interpretation of Paul's arguments for virginity, it may be possible to go deeper b) comparing the thought of the Apostle with that of Jere-miah. Is not the "present necessity" of 1 Corinthians 7:26 parallel with the explanation Jeremiah .gave of his celi-bacy? If so, can we not find in Paul~s eschatological justifi. cation of virginity a lasting value, something much deeper than a pious illusion? It all amounts to a proper evaluation of his eschatolog~- cal hope. Was it a delusion which he had, but which he avoided expressing firmly? Or was it on the contrary a 18 See the decree of the Biblical Commission of June 18, 1915 in Enchiridion Biblicum, 2nd ed. (Naples: D'Auria, 1954),'nn. 419--21. a, The Theology o[ St. Paul (London: Burns, Oates, and Wash bourne, 1926), V. 1, p. 112. Prat explained his mind still more clear!} in a few pages of his final chapter on "The Last Things" which h~ suppressed to satisfy an over-zealous censor. These pages have been published in Prat's biography I~y J. Cal~s, p. 99. a~j. Huby, Ep~tres aux Corinthiens (Paris: Beauchesne, 19.46); W Rees also (op. cir.) accepts an eschatological influence on St. Paul't thought on virginity. central element of his faith and of his spiritual outlook? O. Cullmann, for the early Church in general, and L. Cerfaux, for St. Paul in particular, have shown that is the second view which is true. There is much ~ore than a question of knowing whethei~ Paul or the early Church ex-pected or not an imminent Parousia. For them and for us, the heart of the matter is not the date of the Par0usia but its significance. In Cullmann's terms, what is the connec-tion of the present period of history (the times of the Church) with the past (death and resurrection of Christ) and the future (final resurrection)~1~ The problem is not chronological but theological. St. Paul may or may not have been under the impression that Christ was to return soon. This is rather °immaterial and irrelevant. What matters is that, for him, and for the early Christians, ours are the last days (Acts 2:16 if). The last hour has begun with the death of the Lord (1 Jn 2:18), How long will it be? Nobody knows, but it is clear that now, in Christ, history has reached its end and what we wimess now in the world is the consummation of the end: "The world goes disappearing" (1 Jn 2:i7). The Apocalyp~ses of St. John and of the synoptic Gospels show in a veiled language that the trials the Church has to undergo are the fore-running signs of the consummation, and St. Paul explains that the individual tribulations of the Christians are their share of the Messianic woes (Cor 1:24).xr The present period may be short or long: after all, "with the Lord, one day ,is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day" (2 Pet 3:8). In any case, Chris-tian life is thoroughly eschatological in character. What-ever may be the actual date of the Parousia, we live after the end of history has been reached. We are just waiting for the consummation of the end, we turn towards it and we prepare it. Parous.ia hangs so to say over our life: even if chronologically it may be still distant, it is theologically imminent: it is the only development of the history of salvation that we can expect, and it gives its color to our outlook on things. Seen in the light of faith, the history we live in and our personal fate appear as signs of the end. Celibacy is one of those signs: it shows that the last times have come. It proclaims that the world is disap-pearing. The end has come. Man's primary duty is no more to continue the human species. It is on the contrary to free himself from a fleeting world which has already 10 O. Cullmann, Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950), 17 In Col 1:24 "tribulationes Christi" should be translated "the messianic woes" and not "the sufferings ot Christ" (it is thlipsis and not path~ma). The phrase does not refer to the sufferings of our Lord but, according to a terminology common in Judaism, to the trials God's people had to undergo to reach the messianic times, the birth pangs of the new world. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celiba~'~ VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR REI.IG]OUS lost its substance. This is not an attitude of panic before a threa, tening disaster. It is rather an act of faith in the significance of the Lord's death, beginning of the end. Thus Paul understood virginity exactly as Jeremiah. Jeremiah did not know the date of the destruction of Jerusalem: it is not the role nor the charisma of the prophets to give a chronology of the future. But'one thing he knew for certain: on account of the infidelity of the people, the former covenant had become void. Conse-quently the old institutions like the Temple and the kingship would break like empty shells and Israe!, aban-doned by God, would collapse. H~ knew that his was a time of death. The nuptial songs 'would be replaced by lamentations. Marriage and procreation had lost their meaning. The prophet showed it by his own life: his celibacy was an enacted lamentation. Similarly, St. Paul did not know the date of the end. But he knew for certain that the world had condemned it-self by condemning Christ and that the worldly powers had been nailed down on the cross. It was God's plan to leave some interval before the actual end of all, time to: allow the mystery of iniquity to reach its climax and the Church to spread all over the w~rld. During that time life was to continue and marriage was still legitimate. Yet even married people had to understand that they were no longer of the world they were in. Still using the world, they had to be detached from it. Even in marriage they had to bring an attitude of freedom, a tension towards a higher form of love, the love of Christ 'towards His bride the Church (see Eph 5:25-33). And itis quite fitting that to remind men of the freedom they should keep towards a fleeting world there should be, in the Church, a special charisma (1 Cor 7".'7) of virginity, akin to the charisma of prophecy. The celibate's life is an enacted prophecy. His whole life shouts to the world that it is passing away. As Jeremiah announced to the Chosen People the end of the old covenant, the celibate, new Jeremiah, announces the end of the old world. He embodies the teachings of th~ Apocalypses. He stands as a witness of the day bf the Lord, the day of wrath and of death which began qn that Friday of Nisan when the'Lamb was slaughtered Mount Calvary. + The Positive Aspect ot Celibacy: "'On Account ot the + Kingdom of Heaven'" + What has been said so far has shown that, according to the Bible, and according to Jeremiah and St. Paul es-pecially, celibate life is a prophecy in action, a forebodiiag of the end, a public proclamatioh of the fleeting character of this world. It goes without saying that this is only one aspect of the mystery. There is another one. The last days are not only days of doom: they are also days of resurrection. Jeremiah was not only the prophet of the fall of Jerusalem: he was also the prophet of the .new covenant (Jet 31:31= 35). Similarly for St. Paul the last days are only~secondarily days of woe: primarily, they are the days of the Par0usia~ when Christ will come and hand over to °the Father the world revivified by the Spirit (1 Cor 15). The Apocalypse~ ends its enumeration of th~ eschatological calamities~by the resplendent description~of the~heavenly ~Jerusalem° where everything is niade new (Ap 21). Christ's death:on Calvary was only the beginning of his exaltation 1~-15; 12:32-33). The full, prophetical meaning of virgin-ity is to be understood ifi reference td the whole mystery of death and life contained in Christ. Celibacy is 'not only an enacted prophecy of~th~ imminent doom: it announces also and anticipates the life to come, "the life of the new world in the Spirit. ~ ~ Jeremiah, who.had announced the new covenant, might' have understood that virginity would be the typical state~ in that new life which was.nol6nger to be granted bythe power of the flesh but by the Spirit. But in fact he does not seem to have realized these implications of~his prophetical' teaching. Or if he did, he had no occasion to express it. We have to come to the Gospels to find' this doctrine ex-pounded. ~ ¯ Jesus lived a celibate life. We~can not say that hlscase was unique. By the beginnings of the Christian era, the~ ideal of virginity seems to have been cultivated at least in some restricted circles of Judaism. We.have seen the rather~ mysterious case of the. Essenes. John~the Baptist also must tiave observed celibacy. This movement might explain the pu~rpose of virginity expressed by Mary in Luke 1:34. Jesus assumed that ideal and. by His very life fulfilled the la'tent aspirations it contained. Yet there is very little in the Gospels about virginity. This is not surprising. The Gospels are only factual: sum-maries. There is little in themfor introspection and self-~ analysis. They have,little to say. about Jesus' personal life. They do not tell us how he felt when praying;when work-ing miracles, when undergoing-the trials o~ His 'Passion. It is no wonder,., therefore, ~that they would be ~almost completely silent concerning Jesus' celibacy. This silence gives more value to the one statement of the Gospels in which Christ explained howh'e understood His virginity. It was on an occasion in which he had emphasized once more the law of~ indissolubility o[ matrimony. The dis-as See R. Laurentin, Structure et thdologie de Luc I-H iPa.ris: Gabalda, 1957). The Meaning Celibacy VOLUMEo20~. 1961 ,~ , 339 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ciples could hardly understand the intransigence of the Master. As usual, Jesus tried to bring light to the discus-sion by taking it to a.higher level. The heart of the matter is not the convenience of men but the requirements of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God does make exact-ing demands upon its members. See the case of those to whom it has been given to realize fully the implications of the coming of the Kingdom: they can be compared to eunuchsl "There are eunuchs who were born so from their mother's womb; and ttiere are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" (Mt 19:12). Though this pericope appears in Matthew 0niT, there is no reason to deny its authenticity, In his book on the synoptic Gospels, L. Vaganay insists several times that Matthew 19:10-12, along,, with several other passages, though appearing in one Gospel only, belongs to the oldest layer of the Gospel formation,~ .and to the most ancient tradition common to the three Synoptic Gospels.19 If the text figures in Matthew only, it is not because it was added afterwards to the~ final edition of Matthew: it is not a case of addition by Matthew but of omission by Marie and Luke. The pericope on the eunuchs has an archaic ring that would, have been shocking to Gentile ears. It is the kind of coarse Semitic paradox, frequent in the Bible, quite appealing to the rough peasants of Pal-estine accustomed to the loud and often brutal eloquence. 6f the prophets. It could hardly be exported to Greece or. even to Asia Minor, Syria., or Egypt. It is not surprising that Mark and Luke preferred to drop it. Yet "its very paradoxical aspect guarantees its authenticity.''20 More-over, the parallel text of Mark seems to leave traces of the amputation. In Mark 10:10, after the discussion with the Pharisees on matrimony, Jesus returns home together' with His disciples. There is a change of place and of audi-ence: Jesus is now in the intimate circle of His disciples. Usually when He retires together with them, it is to teach a deeper doctrine (Mk 4:10, 34; 7:17; 9:30; 10:32). One would expect here, "at home," further explanations on the views He has just exposed. Yet, according to Mark 10:10-12, Jesus merely repeats the elementary explana-tions ivhich, according to Matthew 19:9; 5:32 and Luke 16:18, He would as well give to the crowds. Does not this mean that in the source Mark used, there was "at home" some other deeper teaching imparted to the disciples? But l what other teaching was there except~the logion on the, 1~ L. Vaganay, Le probl~me synoptique ('rournai: Descl~e, 1954), pp.~167, 211, 216, and elsewhere. ~Ibid.,p. 167. iI eunuchs recorded by Matthew? Mark removed this saying, but the operation has left a scar in the text. If the pericope does belong to.th.e origins of the Gospel composition, there is no rea.soia to doubt that it was really an utterance of Jesus and this decides the question of its exact bearing. In the concrete context of jesus'ocelibate life, it is easy to find out to whom the third category of eunuchs refers. When the disciples heard that saying, they could~but think of Jesus Himself and possibly also of John the Baptist.!t is clear that Jesus here speaks of His own case and explains it. He does not advocate self-mutilation; He sets up His own example. He observed virginity and He did it con-sciously "in. view of God's Kingdom." John the Baptist had done it before Him; others would follow. Thus Jesus presents Himself as the leader~ in a line of men who; think-ing of God's Kingdom, will live like ~unuchs, giving-up the use of their sexual powers. But what is exactly the relation between virginity;and God's Kingdom? Why should one remain a celibate prop-ter regnum caelorura (in view of the Kingdom of God)? What is the precise value of that propter (dia ifi Greek)? In biblical Greek, dia with the accusative denotes causality or finality (out of, for the sake of, in view of). It is obvious that, in this'context, the meaning must be of finality. But this is still very vague, too vague to base on it an explana-tion of virginity. We can not build a theology on the strength of a preposition. If the preposition is vague, the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven," on the contrary, is clear enough. The 'Kingdom of.Heaven--or the Kingdom of God, since both phrases = This evidently settles the problem, discussed from the time of Origen onwards, of whether the saying should be understood in a realistic or in a symbolic sense. In Kittel's Theologisches Wb'rterbuch -urn Neuen Testament (TWNT), V. I, p. 590, Schmidt favors the ,ealistic interpretation: the saying would allude to people who ac-ually castrated themselves; it would invite the disciples not to imi-ate them but, at least, to reflect on their earnestness. Origen himself s a proof that there were such'cases in the early Church. But was it o during Jesus' own life time? It is rather doubtful and still more loubtful that Jesus would have set as an example this hypothetical berrant behavior. In the same TWNT of Kittel (2, p. 765), J. chneider maintains the traditional interpretation. The problem could be viewed also from the angle of Form Cdti- ,sin. What are the concrete circumstances in the life of the' ehrly ¯ hutch which led to a reminiscence of these words of-the" Master? 'Chat is the concrete problem to which they were given as an answer. t was most evidently the problem of the virgins, an acute problem as "e know from 1 Corinthians 7, and possibly also, together with it, he problem of the widows "who are truly widows" (1 Tim' 5:3; sde Cor 7: 8). According to J. Dupont, Mariag~ et divorce darts l'evangile ~ruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), the saying would refer to the case of husbands separated from their wives. This is a rather far- [etched $itz im Leben; moreover it overlooks completely the refer-ence to Jesus' own example. The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 196~. 341 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS haye the same significancem--appears as a key concept.of the ~synoptic Gospels. It.stands at the center of. Jesus' preaqhing. If not exactly in Judaism, at least in Jesus' mouth, it is ',a comprehensive term for the blessings of .salvation,''23 having practically .the same meaning as "the age to come" or "the life of the age to come2'~24 It is es-sentially an eschatglogical entity,. ,What the Jews had ~ !onged for,-the prophets had promised, and the apoca-lyptic writers had described, the new life coming from above, the new world, ~he new cov.enant imparted by God, t.h.e ~new Israel, the gift of ~he Sp'irit, Resurrection ,and Re,creation: it is all that.which is contained in God's Kingdom. ,Butmand th.i_s is the novelty of Jesus' teaching--with His coming, the eschatological world, the world to come has become present, though it remains unfulfilled. With the coming of Jesus the Kingdom of God offers the para-doxical character of being at the same time future and pre~ent. Jesus assures us that it is already present among us (Mr 12.:28; see Lk !2;21),but He also invites us to pray fpr~it.s coming (Mr 6:10). Exegetes have tried to rationalize ¯ this mystery by reduting Jesus' preaching to one or the other-aspect. The "co.nsequent eschatology" of A. Schweit-zer retaiged only the future aspect: the life-of Jesus was mere expectation of an imminent advent of the Kingdom,': expectation which was deceived by the event. On the con, ffary, the "realized eschatoIogy" of C. H. Dodd retains only the present element: with Jesus, the. Kingdom is .:presen~t and there is nothing ~to expect from the future; escha, to.logical elements should be dismissed as mere apoc- ~alyptical phraseology. Both views are only partial. Kiim-mel2~ and Cullmann,2n among others, have shown-that ihe integral' teaching of Christ combines both aspects. In Jesus the powers of the coming aeon are already active and the future Kingdom of God is already at work in the pres~' ent. The Spirit is given~ Yet He works only like a seed: present" in Jesus and in those who will follow Him, He has still to extend His influence to the whole world tillf His life-giving activity covers and trans,!orms the whole/ crea.t, ion. Such'is the meaning of,the parables ., of , the ¯ ~ "The Heaven" is a term used by the Jews as a' s u b s t i t uGtoed for to" a.yo.id, prgfiouncing the divine name. .m G. Dalman, The Words~o] Jesus (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1902), p.A35. Dalman shows thaLJesus somewhat altered the mean-ing of the phrase by giving .it a specifically eschatological value in connection with Daniel 7 : 27. So, though in Judaism the phrase should be translated "the kinship of God," it becomes, in Jesus' teachings, ~ynonymous with eschatological salvation. ~ Hence the equivalence with the Johannine theme of "eternal~ ~ ~ Pror~ise and Fulfilment (Naperville: Allenson, 1957). ~ Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950). Kingdom" (Mk 4 and parallels). We are still waiting for the end: the period we live in is at the same time "promise and fulfilment." This appears especially in the "signs" of the Kingdom. Accgrding to the biblical conception, a "sign" is not a pure symbol, faint image of a distant reality. It is the reality itself in its initial manifestation. In the biblical sign the coming reality is already contained, yet still hidden.27 Kiimmel has shown how in that sense J.esus' .victory over the devils and his miracles are signs of that kind.2s They show already "the coming, consummation of salvation breaking in on the present.''2s Cullmann has added to those signs the main ecclesiastical functions: the missionary preaching of the Gospel,s0 the cult and the sacraments for, in them also, in the Spirit, and "through the merits of Christ, everything is fulfilled which was ac-complished in the past history of salvation and which will be achieved in the future.''~1 In the light of Matthew 19:12 we can add virginity to those signs. Like the miracles and the sacraments virginity is a "sign. of the Kingdom," an anticipated realization of the final transformation, the glory of the world to come breaking in on the present condition. Such is the meaning of propter regnum caelorum. Jesus and many of those who follow Him refrain from sexu~al activity "in view of the Kingdom," that i~, to live already now the life of the world to come. Eschatological life has begun to stir in them and that life will be, and can already be now, a: life which has gone beyond the necessity and the urge of pro-creation. As with their preaching and miracles, Jesus and His "disciples by their celibacy proclaim the advent of the Kingdom, They exemplify already i.n_this world the fu-ture condition of men in the next aeon. As Jesus explained to the Sadducees (Mt 22:30 and parallels), in the world of Resurrection, "one shall neither marry nor be married, one will be like the angels in heaven." This does not mean that man in the Kingdom of God will be asexual, losing his human nature to become a pure spirit in the philosophical sense of the term. Such a philosophical consideration would be quite alien to the biblical mentality. Man was not made as a pure spirit neither in this world nor in the other, and consequently celibacy can not consist in trying to ape the angels. St. Luke explains the exact meaning of this analogy between the risen man and the angels in his rendering of the ~See J. Pedersen, Israel its Li[e and Culture (London: Oxford University Press, 1926), V. 1, pp. 168 ft. ~ Op. cit. (note 25), pp. 105-91. ~ Ibid., p. 121. ® O. Cullmann, Christ and Time. ~ O. Cullmann, Early Christian Worship (Chicago: Regnery, 1955i, p. $5. ÷ The Meaning ~elib~y VOLUME 20, 1961 343 4. L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 344 logion: "They shall neither marrynor be married for they are no more liable to die: for they are equal to the angels and they are sons of God, being sons of Resu~rrection'' (Lk 20: 35-36). The point of resemblance with the angels is not their spiritual nature but their immortality. It is account of his immortality that the risen man need no longer procreate. Life of Resurrection is no more a life "in the flesh," in a body doomed to death. It is a life God, a life of a son of God, life "in the Spirit," in a body transformed by the divine Glory. Hence the functions' the flesh become useless: procreation loses its meaning which was to make up for the ravages of death. The celibate shows by his cofidition that such life has already started. His celibacy testifies to what O. Cullmann has called "the prol~ptic deliverance of the body.''~2 proclaims that, in'Christ, despite the appearances, man escapes the clutches of death and lives in the Spirit. A passage of the Apocalypse echoes that teaching. Apoc-alypse 14:1-5 describes the glory of the Lamb in the heavenly Sion. There His throne is surrounded'by a hun-dred and forty-four thougand men, 'all those who "were redeemed from the earth." They represent the perfect number of all those who, saved by the Lamb, will con-stitute His retinue in the world to come; namely, all the elect. Their main characteristic consists in that "they are virgins" (v '~). Virginity must be understood metaphoric-ally: it means primarily fidelity to God by opposition idolatry, often described in Scripture as a "prostitution." Yet considering the realistic value of Hebrew symbolism, the concrete sense of virginity should not be altogether dismissed: "They have not defiled themselves with women" (v 4).~3 This does not mean that the author would make of virginity a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. This passage must be understood in parallel-ism with Chapter 7, which also describes a hundred and forty-four thousand men leading an innumerable multi-tude which surrounds the throne of the Lamb. While Chapter 14 they are all virgins, in Chapter 7 they are all martyrs. This should not be understood as meaning only martyrdom can lead to salvation. But it does mean that one has no access to the Kingdom unless "he washes his =O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: S.C.M., 1956), pp. 165-76. In his article CuIlmann does not extend his conclusions to the question 0f celibacy. He shows only that marriage has a special theological value since it "corresponds to the relation between Christ and His Church" (p. 173; see Eph 5:29). This view is quite true but should be completed by an awareness that the love between Christ and the Church is of an eschatological--hence virginal--type, The Spouse is a Virgin (see 2 Cot 11:2). Similarly, even conjugal love will have eventually to turn into the-eschatological virginal agape o! which celibacy is a prophetical type. = See L. Cerfaux and J~ Cambier, L',~pocalypse de saint Jean lue aux Chr~tiens (Paris: Cerf, 1955), pp. 124 ft. robe and makes himself white in the blood of the Lamb" (Ap 7:14). The martyr is the typical Christian for he shares the most closely in the cross of his Master. One cim not be a Christian unless he shares in.some way in the fate of the martyrs, in the cross of Christ: The same interpretatiori can be extended to the fourteenth chapter. "As martyrdom, virginity is eminently representative of Christian life. Even as' one can not be saved~without participating in the dignity of martyrdom, one can not be saved without participating in the dignity of .virginity. Virginit~y is a heavenly perfection, an anticipation, for those who are called to it, of what will be the final destiny of all in the Kingdom of Heaven.TM In the world to come all are virgins~ Even those who are married must keep their eyes on that ideal and know that their love has to turn into virginal charity. Those who remain celibate "in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" be!ong to the virginal retinue of their heavenly King the Lamb. As St. Gregory of Nyssa says: Virginal life is an image of the happi~aess that will obtain in the world to come; for it contains in itself many signs of the good things which in hope are laid before us . For when one brings in himself the life according to the flesh to an end, as far as it depends on him, he can expect "the blessed hope and the comin.g 9f the great God,;' curtailing the interval of the in-tervenlng generations between himself and God s advent. Then he can enjoy in the present life the choicest of the good things afforded by the Resurrection.= Thus the mystery of virginity, as any mystery of Chris-tian life, has a double aspect. It has a negative aspect: it represents the death of Christ and, through it, looks towards the complement of that death, the end of a!l, the apocalyptic consummation. It has also a positive aspect: it shows forth the new life in the Spirit, initiated by the Resurrection ofChrist, to be fulfilled at the Parousia. This doctrine is best embodied in the Lukan account of the virgin birth of Christ. Mary is a virgin (Lk 1:34) and, in her virginity, through the operation of the Spirit, she gave birth to Christ, the "first born" of the new world. Thus, in her virginal fecundity, she anticipated and even originated the re-creation of the world through the Spirit. In that account it must be first noticed that Luke-- and Mary--following the Hebrew mentality, do not extol virginity for its own sake. In the Magnificat Mary describes her condition of virgin as a condition of humilitas; that is, a low condition (Lk 1:48). This was exactly the term used by Anna in 1 Samuel 1 : 11 to qualify her disgrace of having ~' Ibid., p. 125. ~ De virginitate (Patrologia graeca, 46, col. 381 ft.). The theme of celibacy as heavenly life or angelic life is frequent in patristic litera-ture. See L. Bouyer, The Meaning o] Monastic LiIe (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 23-40. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celibacy voLUME 20, 1961 4- 4- 4- no child. In fact the whole narrative of the virgin birth of Christ in Luke is built in parallelism with the narratives of the Old Testament d.escribing how sterile women were made miraculously fecund by God.36 To some extent.Luke puts Mary's virginity on a par with the sterility of those women. By remaininga virgin, Mary shares in the wretch-edness of Jephte's daughter, in the abjection of the poor women who had no child (Gen 16:4; 1 Sam 1:1~16; Lk 1:25). She accepted willingly the utter poverty and the op-probrium of those who had no hope of reaching, in motherhood, their human plenitude and who conse, quently were rejected by the world as useless. But in the new Kingdom by God's transforming power, there is a reversal of the human values, The lowly are ex-alted (Lk 1:52), the poor possess the earth (Lk 6:20), those who weep laugh (Lk 6:21), the sterile and the virgins are visited by the power of the Spirit and become receptacles of the divine life. These are simply various aspects of the revolution of the cross turning infamy into glory, death into life. The glorious fecundity of Mary's humble vir-ginity contains already the mystery of the gross. Thelhope, lessness of her virginity points to the hopelessness of the cross: it proclaims, that the world is doomed and that no salvation is to be expected from the flesh. But the fecundity of that virginity presages the triumph of the cross: by the power of the Holy Ghost life will spring from death as it had sprung from the closed womb of a virgin. Thus Mary's virginity announces the disappearance of the world of flesh and the rise of a new world of the Spirit. Jeremiah's celi-bacy had prophesied the first part of the mystery. To Mary it~was given to see the fulfillment and to prophesy, in her life, both aspects of the imminent consummation. Mary's Virginity was prophetical: it turned towards the cross and anticipated the end; it ina~ugurated the~new worldwhere the flesh has no power, for that world knows no other fecundity than the fecundity of the Spirit. The charism oPvirgiriity in the Church continues and com-pletes that prophetical fUnction. Like Mary and Jesus, the Christian celibate renounces any worldly hope," for he knows th~it the world has no hope to propose. But, in his loneliness, he announces and through faith already en-joys the esc, fiato~logical visitation of the Spirit. ' u See S. Lyonhet, "Le r~cit de l'Annonciation," in L'ami du Clergd, 66 (1956), pp; 37-8, and J. P. Audet, "L'annonce h Marie," in Revue biblique 63 (1956), pp. 346-74. REVIEW FOR .RELIGIOUS BARRY MCLAUGHLIN, ~s.J. The Identity Crisis and , Religious Life We often hear it said that the child stabilizes the family. After the first four or five years of marriage the love of the honeymoon is usually exhausted: A new love unfolds. Ideally, it is the affection both parents share for the child that forms the basis for this newmand more maturebond of conjugal love. Perhaps a similar phenomenonJ occurs in religious life. After the first four or five years (or even much later sin~e circumstances and persons differ) a process of reintegra-tion takes place. The religious must re-examine and re-interpret his initial motives and goals. CA newer,° fresher love must supplant the older, faded love. And because ~he natural aids which married life affords are lacking', this transformation to a higher and more perfect love requires supernatural grace and natural maturity. There is no dichotomy here; rather, there is an inter-action. Since God has Himself implanted laws in nature, it is logical to suppose that He will follow the natural patterns operative in the human personality when He works through grace. And grace is, of course, necessary for any form of spiritual development. Yet it is imperative to emphhsize the Scholagtie'axiom that grace builds upon nature. Maturity, on the natural plane, is a prime requisite for supernatural progress and for this transformation of love. To hone Occam's raz6r to a new edge: miracles are not to be multiplied withofit necessity. Like sanctity, maturity develops slowly. For a mah is not born a saint. He is born to be a saint. The distinction is significant: men are not saints all at once; with God's grace men become saints. But-men first'become mature. Maturity, as the natural correlate and predisposition for sanctity, takes time. Psychologists point to a series of crises preliminary to its attainment. " We are especially interested in the "crisis of idehtity" ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry $. McLaughlin, S.J., 3700 W. Pine Bou-levard, St, Louis 8, Mis-souri, is doing graduate studies in psychology at St, ~'~Uis ~Jniversity. VOLUME 20~ 1961 347 the crisis contemporary With the process of re-integration and re-evaluation which occurs once the novelty and freshness of the early years of religious life have disap-peared. Resolution of the identity crisis allows a more mature and transformed love to unfold. But several more basic crises must b~ resolved first. ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry M cLaughlin, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 Development Toward Maturity One of the most widely used theoretical conceptions of psychological development.is the neo-Freudian synthesis proposed by Erik H. Erikson. At a given age, because of physical, intellectual, and emotional maturation, a human being willingly and necessarily faces a new life task. A Set of choices and tests are prescribed for him by his ciety's structure. This new life task presents a crisis. The outcome of this crisis can be successful graduation or im-pairment of the life cycle (which will aggravate future crises). Each crisis prepares for the next--each is a step taken in the direction of the ne~t, until the adult identity is attained. The first crisis is the one of early infancy. What is at stake here, the psychologist feels, is the question of whether a man's inner mood will be determined more by basic trust or basic mistrust. The outcome of this crisis is de-pendent largely upon the quality of maternal care. The mother's affection and her gratification of the child's needs lend a certain pr~edictability and hopefulness in spite of the urgency and bewildering nature of the baby's bodily feelings. This first crisis corresponds roughly to what Freud has described as orality; the second to anality. An awareness of these correspondences is essential for a true understand- ]ng-of the dynamics involved. The second crisis, resolved usually by the fourth year, develops the infantile sources of the sense of autonomy. In this period the child learns to ,~iew himself as an indi-vidual in his own right, apart from his parents although dependent upon them. If there are conditions which in-terfere with the child's achievement of a feeling of ade-quacyv- if he fails, for example, to learn to walk during this ~period--then the alternative is a sense of shame or doubt pervading later adult consciousness (or uncon-sciousness). The third crisis is a part of what Freud described as the central complex of the family; namely, the Oedipus com-plex. According to the opinion of many psychoanalysts, this crisis involves the lasting unconscious association of sensual freedom with the body of the mother; a lasting association of cruel prohibition with the interference of the father; and the consequent love and hate in reality and in phantasy. This is the stage of.initiative; correspond- ing to Freud's phallic stage of psychosexuality. It is the period of vigorous reality testing, imagination, and imi-tation of adult behavior. The major hazard to the solution of this crisis is an overly strict discipline which produces a threatening conscience and flae internalization of rigid and exaggerated (non-rational) ethical attitudes. In the fourth stage the child, now between six and eleven years old, becomes capable of learning intellectually and collaborating with others. The resolution of this stage decides much of the ratio~between, a. sense of in-dustry and a sense of tool-inferiority. A man learns simple techniques which will prepare him for the tasks of his culture. A. rational sense of duty and obligation is also involved here, and the laying aside of fantasy and play for the undertaking of real tasks and the development academic and social competefice. This stage corresponds to the.Freudian latency period. The Identity Crisi~ We are chiefly concerned inthis ~rticle with the identity crisis, first of~all in its broader, cultural dimensions, and then within the specific framework of the religious life. The young~adolescent in our culture must~clarify his understanding of who he is and what his role is to be. He must forge for himself some central perspective and direc-tion, some effective integration, ou_t :of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adulthood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosi~s,-psy-chosis, or delinquent behavior. More frequently,, however, there is a generalized sense of role diffusion. The possession of a role within the culture and,of standards of cultural living constitutes the social side of identity. In addition, there is an optimum ego synthesis to which the. individual himself aspires. The Judeo-Chris-dan tradition and the ideals of the American heritage stress the immeasurable worth of _the individual person. The dignity of the individual, respect for the individual, self-det~rmination these are phrases which attest to our consciousness of the value of personal identity. Each per-son is certain of what is in fact true: that he stands at the center of a unique network of relationships, experiences, influences. He is different and he knows it. Consciousness of the value.of personal identity and a strong sense of personal uniqueness do not,. ho.wever, neces-sarily imply a resolution of the crisis of identity. In some young people, in some classes, at certain periods of history, the identity crisis will be minimal; in other people, classes, and periods this crisis will be clearly marked off as a criti-cal period. There is considerable evidence that in our cul-ture today the identity crisis is of maximal importance, that most individuals undergo a prolonged identity crisis. ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 20, 1961 349 ÷ 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 During this crisis there is a desperate urgency, often con-cealed under the camouflage of social conventions, to resolve the problem of what one should' believe0in and who one should be or become. Three crises follow the crisis of identity; they concern problems of intimacy, generativity, and integrity. What role diffusion is~to identity, its alternative and danger, isolation is to intimacy, egocentric nonproductivity is to generativity, and the lack of consistent values is to integ-rity. When~ the identity crisis is prolonged, these three crises are interwoven with it. The resolution of the identity crisis brings concomitantly the resolution of intimacy, gen-erativity, and integrity crises: A lasting sense of ego identity is the characteristic of the mature adult. The Identity Crisis in the American Culture Victor Frankl, one of the leading .proponents of Ex-istential psychology, has pointed out that Freudian psy-choanalysis has introduced into psych.ological research what it calls the pleasure principle or the will-to-pleasure. Adler has' made psychologists conversant with the role of the will-to-power as a main factor in the formation of neurosis. But Frankl maintains that man is neither dominated by the will-to-pleasure nor by the will-to-power, but by What he'would call man's will-to-meaning; that is, man's deep-seated striving for a higher and~ultimate mean-ing to his existence. Frankl .has perhaps overstated his case; it is more likely a question of emphasis. But the will-to-meaning does re-flect the modern concern with personal identity and, in this sense, is probably as strategic in our time as the study of sexuality was in Freud's time or the study of the drive" for power in Adler~s time. , It is signific~int,-too, that concern with matters of identity is greatest in this country. Psychologists and psychoanalysts recognize th~at in America especially adult patients hope to find in the psychoanalytic system a refuge from the discontinuities 6f existence and a re-gression to a more patriarchal one-to-one system. America has been a melting-pot, a country which attempts to make a super-identity otit of the' identities imported by its constituent immigrants. Previous agrarian and patri-cian identities have been" submerged in the wake of the rapidly increasing ,mdchanization of industrial technology. Frequently the American man has been unable to formu-late his new identity. Depreciation-of.the American way of life is, of course, the favorite indoor sport of cultural critics. The per-tinence of their remarks is not always apparent,.yet in the present context several criticisms'are relevanf. They point out some Of the reasons for the identity crises of con- temporary Americans. From these criticisms we can gain some understanding of the identity crisis of the American man and ultimately of the identity crisis of the (American) religious man. In Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, Biff'exempli-ties an American "type." Society 'has failed to provide him with a clearly defined role: "I just can't take hold, Mom, I just can't take hold of some kind of life.''1 He-lives in constant frustration, unaware of who he.is or what he is to be. And many psychoanalysts feel thatBiff's number is legion. That Biff should address his problems to Morn is sig-nificant, During World War II the expression "Momism' came :into existence :as a means of denoting a type of per- _~onality commonly :encountered in ybung men. There is ¯ n excessive dependence upon and 'attachment' to, the ,nother, with but feeble' attachment to:the father and no =lear image gained through him of man's role. Psychol-ogists have commented upon the probable roots of this phenomenon: the absence, both physically and psycho: logically, of the father from many American urban, and .uburban homes. Because of the conditions of .ecdnomic ~nd social life, many fathers have neither the opportunity qor the inclination to "take on" their sons in the way that a, as common, for example, in the days of the older patri-archal society. This is the first cause we wish to mention "or the prolongation of the crisis of identity: . the failhre ~,f the father in our culture to give to the son a clear image ,f the masculine personality and the role of man. ~ :~ 'Critics have also noted the American fear of loneliness. Individual identity is sacrificed in an effort to stay. close o the herd, to be no ~different from others in" thought, eeling, or action. To stand aside, to be alone, is t6 assert ¯ personal identity which refuses to be submerged. So-iety will not tolerate this; innumerable social features are lesigned to prevent it: stadiums to accommodate~thou-ands at sport events, open doors of private rooms and of- ¯ ces, club cars on trains, shared bedrooms ih colleges and ,oarding houses, countless clubs, organizations; associa-ions, societies, canned music (for gilence~is unbearable) ,iped~into hotel rooms, railway cars, and supermarkets. Yet one of the surest signs of the resolutio~ of' the iden-ity crisis is an increased capacity for .being alqne, for ~eing responsible for oneself.~The gradual process that ¯ ill end in perfect identity involves 'an awareness of he'fact that there are decisions in life and aspects of life's truggle tha~t a l~erson mu~t fa~e alone. ~o Fgr~. a~ young person becomes dearer in his own mind ,f his role in society and of his personal identity he is a In J6hn Gassner (ed.), Best American Plays: Third Series, 1945- 951 (New York: Crown, 1952), p. 19. Identity, ~risis~ VOLUME 20~ 196~. 4. 4., 4. Barr~ MeLaughlin, $.L REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 352 likely also to become more aware of how he differs from others. Gradually he becomes conscious of his isolation from others, not because others are pulling away but be-cause the fullness of personal identity cannot be achieved without.some degree of aloneness. Here we have a para-dox: the more richly a person lives, the more lonely, in a sense, he becomes. And as a person, in his isolation, .be-comes more able to appreciate the moods and feelings of others, he also becomes more able to have meaningful relationships with them. But the unwritten code of our national culture pro-hibits aloneness, and this is the second causative factor for a prolonged identity crisis: the obstacles our society im-poses to the cultivation'of a sense of personal identity. Finally, we see what the critics refer to as the "deper-sonalization" of man by the mass media. "Man is losing himself," Emmanuel Mounier wrote, "in his handiwork instead ~of losing himself in his consciousness; he has not been liberated.''2 There is much that could be said about these factors and their deleterious effects upon a sense of individual identity; but much has already been said by the critics, What is of primary interest here is that mass media standardize thought by supplying the spectator ~ith a ready-made visual image before he has time to construct a rational interpretation of his own. Man has come to'ac-cept ideas and attitudes without having submitted these to himself for intellectual decision. Man is so much a part of the verbal noise going on around him that he does~not notice what the noise is conveying to him. There are, of course, many other causative factors contributing to our national and individual identity crises Millions of young people face these and other psychologi-cal and social obstacles to identity and transcend them in one way or another. If not, they live, as Captain Ahab says, with half their heart and with only oneof their lungs, and the world is the worse for it, The Identity Crisis in the Religious Life The religious man--and by this is meant the man pos~ sessing a fundamentally God-oriented personalitydis of course, immune from cultural influences. Yet as Erikso observes in his book on Luther,., He is always older, or in early years suddenly becomes older than his pla.ymates or even his parents and teachers, and focuses in a precocious way on what it takes others a lifetime to gain a mere inkling of: the question of how to escape corruption i living and how in death to give meaning to life. Because he e periences a breakthrough to the last problems so early in hit life maybe such a man had better become a martyr and seal his message with an early death; or else become a hermit in a soil ="A Dialogue with Communism," Cross Currents, v. $ (195~ p. 127. i! tude which anticipates the Beyond. We know little of Jesus of Nazareth as a young man, but we certainly cannot even begin to imagine him as middle-aged? This short cut between the youthful crisis of identity and the mature one of integrity makes the religious man's problem acutely intense. In addition, the method of "indoctrination" to which he subjects himself aims at sys-tematically descending to the .frontiers where all ego dan-gers must be faced in the raw, where personal guilt is un-covered, drives tamed by prayer and asceticism, and where, ultimately, self must abandon and transform its own identity. In a sense, only "religious geniuses''4 are cgpable of such an enterprise. Yet the man or woman who enters religious life specifically chooses to face this challenge. Per-haps the most important ramification of the life of the vows is the consequent necessity of mature personal iden-tity. There are those, however, who consider it dangerous, unreasonable, and even in a sense against nature, to com-mit a young person in perpetuity to the religious life. Martin Luther became convinced that religious commit-ment was impossible to a man under thirty years of age. A young man of twenty does not know what th~ future may have in store, what sacrifices he may have to accept. He has only a very general view of what religious life will be and his final renunciation can only be made when he knows in detail and as a whole what such a life entails. Yet St. Thomas held that a person could decide upon a religious vocation years be~fore puberty. This poses a problem which involves more than a ques-tion of the religious vocation. It is concerned 'with one of the fundamental aspects of the problem of life. The ma-ture man is future-oriented; for him life is a continuous whole. In his youth he finds that he must commit him-self to an identity, to a course to which he will remain bound in the future. His acts are weighted with the future. If a man refuses to commit himself, identity becomes im-possible. Marriage and the religious vocation are the two funda-mental forms of commitment. When a man marries he is unaware of the trials and responsibilities'of marriage; he does not know what it is to have a dependent wife and children. But the will to do that which is irrevocable de-pends on the strength of a person's love. A love which is genuine takes possession of the whole of the personality. Then it desires to be irrevocable. This notion of commitment is most perfectly delineated in the thought of Gabriel Marcel: I see it like this. In the end there must be an absolute com- " The Young Man Luther (New York: Norton, 1958), p. 261. 'Jean Dani~lou, s.J., God and the Ways o] Knowing (New York: Meridian Books, 1957), p. 10. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry MeLaugh!in, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 354 mitment, entered upon by the whole of myself, or at least by something real in myself which could not be repudiated with-out repudiation of the whole--and which would be addressed to the whole of Being and would be made in the presence of that whole. This is faith. ObViously, repudiation is still a possibility .here, but ,cannot be justified by a change in the subject or object; ~t can only be explained by a fall? This notion, of personal commitment leaves little room for the so-called "temporary vocation" (which is actually a contradiction in terms), even when this is understood as an actor the permissive will of God which allows a person, for his sanctification, to live for some time as a religious and with religious vows. Although a person does grow and develop as he lives out his commitment, although his in-itial love deepens into a more perfect and more mature love, there can be no possibility of a repudiation. This would be a denim of identity and is only explained by a "fall." These are strong words, and are not, of course, meant to be dogmatic. The nature and binding force of a religious commitment such as life with vows requires much more adequate theological analysis. Yet the problem remains. The religious man must be mature before, his time. Ultimately it is a question of the initial acquisition of what Lindworsky calls the "'voca-tional ideal": Before every man there stands~ a picture of that which he should become; and never will he be fully at peace, undl the ideal shown in that picture has been brought to perfect rgaliza-tion. G This provides a focal' point for personal identity within the religious vocation. Perfect identity is not something acquired in its fullness all at once. It comes at the termina-tion of a long and gradual process of growth. Each step along the way presents new difficulties and necessitates closer scrutiny and deeper meditation upon the nature of the identity chosen. There must be a gradual transforma-tion and identification with Christ. ¯The vocational ideal guides the individual to this new identity within the confines of a life of the vows. Gradu-ally the significance of each vow becombs apparent. Each involves a secondary crisis of its own, a danger to personal identity. Once each of these crises are faced and resglved perfect identity is realized. By his vow of poverty the religious man is thrust once more--thi~ time on a much more conscious and more spiritual level--into the primary crisis of trust. In a real (though qualified) sense, religious experience, as Erikson points out, retraces our earliest inner experiences, giving ~ Being and Having (Glasgow: University Press, 1949), pp. 45-46. o Johannes Lindworsky, S.J., The Psychology o! Asceticism (West-minster: Newman, 1950), p. 15. angible form to vague evils and reaching back to the .~arliest moments of childhood. The child must learn to rust his mother; the religious man ~must learn 'to rust God. Only then can he venture out into the.apparent cold which lack of possessiong m~ans to his natural un- ]erstanding and to his provident instincts. Otherwise he "alls into a new and much worse predicament. When a nan has adopted poverty, he will take daily action to keep dive his trust in God; and from the constantly reiterated :onfirmation ~of this t~'ust, he will draw nourishment "or ~his love of God. Voluntary poverty is an attempt to live so strongly upon he inner surge of love for Christ that external supports :an be reduced to a minimum. It is an attempt to be as ~nuch as possible. It is an incentive for a man to restore ~rder of the right kind to his own life and in his relations o God and his fellows. To he more a man and more truly ~ man, as completely and perfectly a man as~possible~: hat is the purpose of the yow of poverty. Failure to achieve uch an identity is its danger. .Chastity also entails a crisis. Th~ religious community "isks becoming an assembly of old bachelors or old maids, whose egoism is concealed beneath a facade of renunci-ation. The mainstay of the family is conjugal love and the ove between the parents and their children. In tl~e re-igious life it is God alone who is the bond, and the corn-non life cannot be sanctified except insofar as the person, ~y loving God, passes beyond its natural aspects.-The ring of mortification is always there because the affections :stablished between members of a community do not form hat personal link which is characteristic of the family. The religious man finds affection, but this is on a piritual plane, leaving certain sides ofthe human per-onality unsatisfied. Men do not go to religious life to ind what they normally find in the family. There is friend-hip, but basically a religious man's life is in God, and n,God one is alone. Fundamental solitude: God is the ~ortion of his inheritance. Psychologically, this involves a sublimation of the nost radical type, yet Freud himself admitted its possi-bility and its actual fulfillment in St. Francis of Assisi nd others. A new and different identity must be forged. In order to arrive at being everything, desire to be noth-ng," wrote St. John of the CrossF This crisis involves, ~asically, final surrender of self-identity and union and bs0rption into the identity of Christ. The vow of ob'edience entails an equally radical crisis. Fhe religious man's identity threatens to be submerged. The Ascent of Mount Carmel, 1, 13, I1 in E. A. Peers (ed. and rans.), The Complete Work o] St. John o] the Cross (Westminster: ~ewman, 1953), v. 1, p. 62. Identity Crisis VOLUME 20,~ 1961 355 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 Existentialist literature especially makes this point: "W~ want freedom for freedom's sake and in every particula circumstance," writes Sartre. "Those who hide their com plete freedom from themselves out of a spirit of serious ness, I shall call cowards.''s Self-identity seems impossibh without the freedom to choose, to determine one's owt conduct and profit or suffer by the consequences. This i a notion rooted in contemporary American Protestan ideals. So much so ttiat William James admitted: It is difficult even imaginatively to comprehend how men po~, sessed of an inner life of their own could ever have come t think the subjection of its will to that of other finite creature recommendable. I confess that to myself it seems something o a mystery? There is a paradox here. When'the religious ma empties himself of his own will (not to other finite crea tures, of course, but to God), at that moment the whol world enters in to fill the vacant space. The saint has n~ particular desires. He seeks only to be allowed to disap pear. He reveals the world to mankind as God has willet it. Yet more than any other man, the saint is responsible He is aware of his obligation to choose for himself. Th terrible duty of the saint is the duty to choose consistentl the "chOice of God. There is one other aspect to the identity crisis in re ligious life, the professional aspect. There are two side to the identity crisis: achievement of personal identity an~ of social identity. We have discussed in some detail th religious man's growth in personal identity. There is als the social role of religious men and women in Americ today, the role of teacher and scholar. Much has been wrftten and much said about the pligh of the American Catholic educational endeavor. We ar concerned here with but one facet of these discussions the undeniable need of Catholic educators to dedicat themselves completely to the subjects they teach. Thi dedication must mean a commitment of the sort which in volves the individual completely in the field he is intel ested in, so much so that he is eager and enthusiastic to se and to contribute to its progress. And since there is fi way to dedicate oneself to learning from the outside, th individual must devote himself totally to his field. A b] stander is too uncommitted. As Father Ong has observed If there is anything that our American Catholic education suffel from, it is the fact that too many of us are not committed enoug to the subjects we profess, not dedicated to them with that tot~ ~Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism (New York: Philosophical brary, 1947), pp. 54--55. ~ The Varieties o! Religious Experience (New York: Longma Green, 1909), p. 311. :~ edicati~n which, for us, should be part of our religious dedica- ~on of God Himself, who makes human knowledge to advance.10 It would seem that many religious men and women, who ,ave to a great extent resolved aflm~i~rably the problems of ,ersonal vocational identity, have not resolved the prob-ems of social identity, have not seen clearly their own role s teachers and scholars. Perhaps the opposite is 6ften true, ,ut in either case it is apparent that there is need "for a uccessful resolution of the identity crisis on both levels nd for an integration at an even higher level. ",6nclusion The gyeatness of man consists in his origin, his nobility s a creature, as a child of God. But more than this: there s also his vocation; man is called upon to co-operate with he divine liberty in the creation of his own identity. This nvolves a process of what Dietrich Von Hildebrand calls 'confronting all things with Christ.''n The saint alone ,as solved the identi.ty crisis perfectly. He has transformed fis self-identity into the identity of Christ. Each saint s a pane of glass of a different color through which Christ's adiance shines. But we all are called to be saints. And if maturity is a ,rerequisite to sanctity, the resolution, with grace, of cer-ain psychological crises is necessary. Above all the reso-ution of the identity crisis, usually concomitant with the ,rocess of re-examination and re-evaluation which occurs ,nce the novelty of the early years of religious life has ,assed, prepares the way to sanctity. Each religious, like he saint, must deepen and transform his love. There is a continuity in life which the saint makes nanifest. The child persists in the man; the mature adult ,as grown out of" childhood without losing childhood's ,est traits. He retains the basic emotional strengths and he stubborn autonomy of the infant, the capacity for onder and pleasure and playfulness of the preschool ears, the capacity for affiliation and the intellectual curi- ,sity of the school years, and the idealism and passion of dolescence. He has incorporated these into a new pattern ;ominated by adult stability, wisdom, knowledge, re-ponsibility, strength, and prudence. The saint is not a man apart from, and outside of, the ;retchedness of everyday life. He is not a man in corn- ,union with God and out of communion with other men. ~ecause he lives in close contact with God, because he has onformed his mind to the mind of Christ, the saint is the ~Walter Ong, S.J., American Catholic Crossroads (New York: ¯ *acmillan, 1959), pp. 104-05. n Translormation in Christ (New York: Longmans, Green, 1948), ¯ 74. VOLUME 20, 1961 357 one man who is in communion with us, while all other live apart. This is why the saint is the per[ectly mature individual at once the most sensitive and the most spiritual o[ men The most sensitive because nothing and no one in world finds him unresponsive, since he is always in mediate and loving contact with persons and things. He the most spiritual o[ men, ~or every movement o[ his sonality has its origin in the realization that Christ measure o[ all things, the source o[ his own identity. embodies per[ectly the words of St. Paul: "So we shal reach per[ect manhood, that maturity which is propor ¯ tioned to the complete growth of Christ" (Eph 4:13). Barr~ McLaughlin, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 358 ROBERT F. WEISS, S.J. The Christ of the Apocalypse Toward the end of his long life in the closing years of the first century, our Lord's beloved disciple, the apostle St. John, penned from his place of exile on the island of Patmos a beautiful message of hope and encouragement for the Christian churches. The style: 0f this letter, the last book of the Bible, is apocalyptic; that is, it deals with the revelation made to John of things present and pastas well as future. Its theme 'is the ,triumph of Christ. In images of surpassing beauty, St. John describes for all ages the glorious King of kings. Although it is the same Christ of the Gospels whom we meet here, a great change has come over Him. He is still "like unto a son of man," but He no longer has the weaknesses and limitationS of His humanity. We will see Him in settings of majesty, power, and triumph--all of which are meant to stir up hope, love, and courage for the struggle ahead, for the difficulties and persecutions the Church must always suffer. He has already conquered. This is Christ as He is now, and yet His victory is being constantly repeated. The message is, therefore, one of personal concern for all Christians of every .age. "Blessed be the man who reads this prophecy," says John, "and those who hear it read and heed what is written in it, for the time is near." For each one of us the battle is now raging, and the end of our own struggle is approaching. Christ conquered sin and death long ago; but as long as this world lasts, the conflict goes on. Not until the last day will Ghrist:s triumph be final and complete. But for us, each individual, the time is near and Christ is coming soon. John begins his epistle in a Trinitarian setting, using a salutation much like Paul's as he wishes peace and blessing to the seven churches in Asia from "Him who is and was and is coming"--the Father--"and from the seven spirits befOre His throne"--the Holy Spirit represented by His Robert F. Weiss, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University, 221 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 3, Mis-souri. VOLUME 20, 1961 359 + 4. 4. Rober~ F. Wei~s~ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 360 sevenfold gifts--and "from Jesus Christ." The full title, Jesus Christ, used here in connection with the other per-sons of the Blessed Trinity, is not used again until the very last verse in the letter. John seems to prefer Jesus alone, in this way emphasizing the humanity of the glorious Christ and His identity with the historical person who lived and suffered. Christ alone as a title occurs only four times. All of these are in the last half of the book in settings of solemnity and majesty and in close association with name of God. John's favorite title for Christ is, as will later, the Lamb, although he also .uses Son of God and Son of Man. The apostle's cast of mind is revealed by the prayer Of praise he offers to Christ at the outset--"to Him who loves us and has released us from our sins." This Christ "has made us a kingdom of priests for His God and Father." Just as Israel when set free from Egypt acquired a national life under its divinely appointed king, so Church, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, makes up a holy nation. As kings, the faithful of Christ will reign all the peoples; as priests, united to Christ the Priest, they will offer to God the Whole universe in a sacrifice of praise. In his magnificent opening vision, John sees the glorified and idealized human form of Christ: a being like a man, wearing a long robe, with a gold belt around his breast. His head and hair were as white as white wool, as white as snow; his eyes blazed like fire; his feet were like bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the noise of mighty waters. In his right hand he held seven stars; from his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword, and his face shone like the sun at noonday. The garments are the first object to catch John's attention. The figure wears a long robe of the priesthood and girded with the belt of royalty. His snow white hair His eternity, and His eyes blazing like fire repre-sent His divine knowledge. Feet glowing like bronze furnace symbolize His power and utter stability. His voice, which is compared to the thundering rush of a waterfall, and His face, shining like the noonday sun, which recalls the glorious transfiguration on Mount Tabor, give Him a majesty that is terrifying. In His right hand are seven stars representing the seven churches over which He has power and care. It was among seven lampstands that this figure had appeared; they are likewise churches and signify His omnipresence. From His mouth comes the sharp two-edged sword of the word of God which has power to condemn or reward. This is He who is "coming on the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even the men who pierced Him." John is so overawed by the sight that he falls at the feet of Christ like a dead man. But our Lord lays His hand him and tells him not to be afraid. For He is the first and tlie last, that is, the Creator and the last end of all things. He is the Living One, an idea prominent in the tliinking of the Hebrews. Theirs is a living God, not the dead idols of their pagan neighbors. Chi'ist ~a~ defid, crudi~ed; yet here He is alive forever and ever. He has risen from the dead never to die again. More than that, He holds the keys of death and the underworld, over which as God He alone has power. He carries the key of David and thus has ab-solute authority to admit or exclude anyone'from the city of David, the new Jerusalem. He "operis and no one shall shut, and'shuts and no one shall open." This is the Christ of the Apocalypse, infinitely majestic and august. He wiil come in the end seated on a cloud, and with a single swing of His sickle the' harvest of the earth will be reaped. His prhdominant characteristic is unbounded power. Only once or twice, it is said, does the tenderness of Christ's compassion or the intimacy of His fe!lowship with men make itself felt in this book. Yet when it does, it is unexpected and most poignant. Afier rebuking and praising, encouraging the faithful and castigating the tepid, Christ concludes: I reprove and discipline all whom I love. So be earnest and re: pent. Here I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice ~and opens the door, I will be his guest and dine With him, and he with me. I will permit him who is victorious to take his seat.beside my father on his throne. In apocalyptic literatur~e Christ is frequently pictured as a judge at the door. Hire the beloved disciple sees Christ not as a judge but as a friend inviting us to :the closest kind 6f intimate companionship. For the Orientals the Lidea of perfect friendship is represented by the notion of taking a meal together. Since it is not uncommon for John to use words with additional connotations, even with a triple meaning, he may well be alluding here also to the Holy Eucharist, in which Christ Himself becomes our food, as ~vell as to the banquet prepared for the faithful in heaven. Even in this setting of gentle and tender intimacy, the glory awaiting the loyal friends of Christ is not forgotten. The place asked by their mother for the sons of Zebedee is to be had by all those who are faithful unto the end. The risen and ascended Christ is all in all to the members of His Church. He loves them; He redeemed them; and He has made them what they are, a new Israel, a kingdom of priests. In the succeeding visions, John prefers to speak of Christ as the Lamb. This is not to be looked on as a photograph or a picture or even as an imaginative'representation. Like the other images used, it is a symbol, a thought-representa~ tion to be taken according to its intellectual content. ~Th~ images are not essential and sho~uld not be retained. The ÷ The Christ o] the Apocalypse VOLU~E 20, 1961 361 + + ÷ Robert F. Weiss, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 author wishes to convey an idea, and that is all the image should be used for. He gives us a succession of these sym-b~ Is~rom ~hich he wishes us.to take an idea and then move on to the next. This is especially true of the various qualities ascribed to Christ whom he will repeatbdly iefer to as simply the Lamb. This is not the sacrificial Lamb of Isaiah about whom John is speaking; rather it is the Lamb as a leader. He the strong one, the sheperd 0f the faithful who will guide them.to the springs of living water, the fountain of which is God Himself. It is this Lamb alone who can break the seals and open the book upon which are written the secrets of history-~the story of the great sufferings to endured, the conflict that will rage, and Christ's ultimate and magnificent victory. The Lamb, has seven horns signify His unlimi~ted power and seven eyes as symbols His vast knowledge. As so frequently in the peculiar apoc-alyptic style of this letter, the number seven is used to completeness and plenitude. The Lamb as John sees Him appears as if slaughtered, and yet He lives. He has conquered sin and death. He was slain as a victim, but only the splendid results of sacrifice remain. To Him indeed belong the ~rerogatives of God. He is spoken of more and more, as John's account proceeds, in the same breath with God the Father. He has a share in the works of God. "Our deliverance is the work of our God who is seated on the throne and of the Lamb." In the glorious day of the heavenly Jerusalem, Christ Lamb will reign with His Father. John saw this Jerusalem: the holy city, coming down out of heaven from God, in all the glory of God. It shone with a radiance like that of some very precious stone, like jasper, clear as crystal . I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God, the'Almighty, and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun nor the moon to shine in it, for the glor~ of God lighted it, and the Lamb is its lamp. The heathen will walk by its. light. The kings of the earth will bring their splendor to ,t. Its gates will never be shut by day--for there will be no night there and they will bring the splendor and the wealth of the heathen into it. Noth!ng unclean will ever enter it. In this day God will make "all things new." The apostle is trying to describe heaven in .this passage using the language of the Old Testament with which his readers were familiar. The essential jo~ of this state of glory is that God will be with those who have remained faithful and they will be with Him. Everything good will also be in heaven, but the presence of God will be everything. God and His Christ are its sanctuary; God's glory will light it; the Lamb will be its lamp. There will be no need for a temple other than God or for the intermediary of religion, for God Himself will be possessed. The Lamb in the day of judgment can be terrible in His anger, and as a shepherd He rules with a rod of iron. But there is an arresting touch of tenderness in the glimpse we are given of the glorious victory to which .He will lead His followers: They are the people who come through the great pe~secuti0n, who haveowashed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. That is why they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his :temple, and he who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will never be hungry or thirsty again, and never again will the sun or any burning heat distress them, for the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes., Seel God's dwelling is with men, and he will live with them. They will be .his people and God himself will be with them. Those who come through the time of tribulation are those who have washed their :robes in the blood of the Lamb. This symbolic expression includes both the idea of salva-tion through the death, of Christ and theoactivity of-the faithful' themselves signified by the washing. Their reward will be to participate in the worship of God day and night. With typical Hebrew reverence for the name of God, John speaks of Him "who is seated on the throne" rather, than repeat the sacred name: Just as in the land of promise there was to be a cessation of suffering, so in heaven the faithful will be eternally free from all care and want and every sort of mental distress or bodily pain. For the Hebrews water was scarce and very precious; a plentiful source of it signi- ,fled abundance and prosperity. The water here is a symbol of God's grace, and God is its source. John's vision is in terms of the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah, but now in Christ the fulfillment is assured. There isone other appearance of Christ which must be mentioned, perhaps the most striking vision of all. Before, we saw the temple; now heaven itself is opened, andwe see the magnificent, triumphant Warrior-King followed by the armies of heaven: Then I saw heaven thrown open and there appeared a white horse. His rider was called Faithful and True, and he judges and wages war in uprightness. His eyes blazed like fire. There were many diadems on his head, and there was a name written on him which no one knew but himself. The garment he wore was spattered with blood, and his name was the word of God. The armies of heaven followed him mounted on white horses and clothed in pure white linen. From his mouth came a sharp sword with which he is to strike down the heathen. He will shepherd them with a staff of iron, and will tread the winepress of the